Re: MORITURI TE SALUTANT!! [S!4]
12-28-2012, 07:45 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.
Chad figured they were reaching to the deeper parts of Il Maledicta because everything there was positively ugly.
Apparently, they were reaching the bowels of the ruins because everything was getting larger and proportionally quieter. Claustrophobic alleyways gave way to nigh-abandoned hallways, their skeletons constantly hinting of Maledicta's former glory. Statues of mourning angels in various stages of crumbling. Stubborn ribbons of wallpaper clinging at the corners. Rain-rotted ceilings filled with flaking depictions of scenes from the play - or would have been if it were not for all that obtrusive wildlife in place. Chad kicked a frayed-edged pamphlet and watched it skid into a crack of a wall. Everything in this ruins was disgusting. He could go all day about how disgusting it was.
Too bad there was a parrot nestled between the lapels.
"I don't exactly understand why of all the body parts I have," Chad hissed, obviously trying his best not to rip the parrot from his suit and bite off its head like some sort of demented rock-star (with perfectly white teeth, of course). "You had to choose the most awkward place."
"My wings were sore," the parrot named Nestor Notabilis let out a content pattering of chirps, nestling deeper into pocket between Chad's expensive cotton shirt and even more expensive cashmere suit. The parrot's comfort level rose proportionally to the young man's chagrin.
"Well, you still have your feet." Chad fired back to this opponent.
"Well, my feet were sore too," Nestor replied.
It did not take a genius (genius) like Chad to realize Nestor was lying out completely, considering flying tend to use the forelimbs of the bird rather than the hindlimbs. If you wanted to be more specific, it was the keel (the sternum of the avian anatomy for you ingrates) that was a natural hook for the bundle of flight muscles that made flying possible for a bird. For course, Chad would never, ever, ever correct Nestor. He did not quite deserve such a worthy charity from Chad Chaswell Charles.
"But most of all," Nestor sighed as though he remembered a great loss from generations back - sad but not exactly distraught over the "tragedy" that had occurred. "My heart broke. I had to rest, my dear Chad. I needed a little tenderness within my life. I needed you."
But you just flew and asked for directions, Chad screamed in inside his head. You fucking lazy parrot.
"Also where you get that suit?" Nestor cocked an inquisitive head at Chad's chin, his parroty eyes drooping in laziness but shining in cheekiness. "I love it."
You fucking lazy greedy parrot. Chad screamed even more. In his thoughts, of course. Otherwise it would be embarrassing.
"I like you," the parrot playfully did a flip in the suit-shirt pocket and nibbled at the lapels drooping over his head. Then, he spread his pinecone-spade feathers, transforming into a misshapen sphere of fluffy irritation and comfort. "I think we are going to make a good team."
Being a time traveller that traversed various portions of space and time, Chad had the experience of sampling all sorts of exotic cuisines. Some were comparably mundane when placed side-by-side by meals from his native timeline. Some were incredibly novel, turning otherwise prosaic ingredients in unusually appetizing directions. Some others were so mind-blowing that it literally exploded the heads of the consumer. Of course, such an embarrassing fate never befelled Chad because well, he's Chad. At this point and time, Chad was wondering what roasted parrot tasted like.
"Uh, Chad?"
Chad glared at Hector so venomously the poor man nearly jumped out of his skin. To be honest, Chad had almost nearly forgotten about the book-fellow. If each member of the trio ("trio" as Chad was not exactly a fan being in a group with two complete strangers let along a parrot) were characters in some sort of novel-like collaborative endeavor, Hector was sort of the minor character. As in, he was just there for some enigmatic reason which was forgotten to the author of the book. Of course, it was obvious that Chad was the main character. Because reasons.
"Oh, uh. Haha. Don't mind me," It took Hector about ten seconds to back away and chuckle nervously. "I was just wondering if you were just about to, you know--" Hector made an motion with hands that implied shoving a parrot-sized object into his mouth before realizing he completely sucked at charades and gave up. "--Nevermind."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah. Uh-huh, that was what I was thinking." The bibliomancer adjusted his tie more than it was mortally necessary. It was pretty clear Hector was attempting to brush off the conversation. "Anyway, uh. what I was saying was that...we are here."
With a melodramatically sweep of his arms, Hector pointed to the majesty that was the mostly-intact library. It was a magnificent piece of work forged from the finest of alabasters, the strongest of metaphysical metals, and the most delicate of jewelry. (Just enough. Otherwise, it would look completely tacky.) Two sphinxes flanged at the columns, snarling in heraldic ritual. Their pinions heavy with the ripe fruit of a single fat gem. Wreathing the heads of these mythological hybrids were angels, laden with wing and fork-tails of bejewelled birds. In one hand carried a harp. In the other carried a plaque carved to look like a grandiose banner. On the banner, the words "AVE IMPERATOR" was engraved with expert hands and flawless kerning. Strangely, each face of these creatures, sphinx and angel, were the same - a sort of indescribable wad of plasticine with singular smug eye and an equally smug smile. It looked rather familiar.
"Well, someone likes himself a bit too much," Chad said.
Hector and Nestor stared at Chad for a few seconds before disregarding what he had just said.
"Anyway, I suppose we have important things to do," Nestor dropped down and flew down to the bottom of the suit (much to the wearer's irritation). Nestor wobbled to a comfortable height and turned back. "Allow me to introduce you to 'AVE IMPERATOR' Library. Home of the most complete collection of 'In The Company of Full-Stop Angels.'"
---
"Uh, Nestor sir." Hector raised a finger. "I thought you said this library has the most complete collection of 'In The Company of Full-Stop Angels.'"
"Well, I meant to say it had the most complete collection of variations," Nestor made bobbing gesture with his head as though he was trying to find the words appropriate for the sentence. "Of the play. I never said it was the real deal."
Hector sighed, the resulting echo truly showing how vacuous the library truly was. Apparently, it was larger on the inside than the outside as there were columns upon columns of shelves. All full of plays that were for some reason, arranged into the Dewey Decimal System. Each shelf embellished with a title pertaining to what most of the plays consists of. The titles were written in a strange language that seemed foreign but in fact, was quite understandable. "Main Character Dies," "Main Character Lives," "Everything Explodes" - the titles were so direct that Hector wondered if the unnamed lord of this delirict library was being particularly spiteful to the readers.
"Why do they have the same titles," a particularly irrate Chad interrupted the silence with two pamphlets in each hand. Each playbook was all in all completely the same to the down of the font they used - or would be if it were not for the fact that the labels on the bottom that dryly explained the contents. Chad's right had "Metafictional Plots." Chad's left had "Gratituous Homosexuality." "If the contents were completely different."
Hector stared at Chad's left. Then, the bibliomancer stared at the playbook in his own hand - the label in which claimed "Romantic Fantasy Comedy Plus Dragons" before sheepishly pocketing his version into his pants knowing that he was bit too embroiled in the story. "Ah, Chad. Because...fanfiction?"
Chad glowered. He knew. Oh, he knew.
"Ah ha ha, but you see," Hector continued as he was totally not smuggling "In The Company of Full-Stop Angels": "Everyone Is A Dinosaur" edition into his shirt. "This play probably was enviously beloved and as such, people had made copies upon copies in sort of a subconscious worship to this magnus opus. After all, imitation is the most sincere of flattery."
If Chad blinked, no one knew because of his sunglasses. A tangible awkwardness filled the library until Chad saw fit to interrupt it with a frivolous toss of his playbooks. "So, bird brain." Chad smiled warmly but his emphasis was more malignant than benevolent. "Why did you bring us here."
"AVE IMPERATOR was the first library of Ile Madedicta" a man's voice reflected aganist the ancient corridors as Nestor bobbed into the view of Hector of Chad. In the parrot's gnarled claws, there was a small and heavy object. "Before the theater fell into the abyss of decadence, there was a thing called regulation. You see, forgeries were a thing since the initiation of the Angels." Nestor blinked smugly before turning to the mage-librarian. "Hector, if you be so kind..."
A small object fell into Hector's hand. It was an important-looking seal of some sort, used to mark documents for some unknown purpose lost long ago. The stamp was an intricate but macabre design - two crowned hummingbirds spearing each other with their beaks. The bibliomancer could not help but marvel at the master craftsmanship of such an object. It was beautiful. Simply beautiful.
"That is the official seal - the proof that whatever play worthy enough to get such an brand is a bona-fide authentic Full-Stop Angel." Nestor settled down on Hector's shoulder and peered down as though he never seen such a seal before. "No one had seen it for centuries - perhaps eons if I may had to be flagrantly exaggerating - especially since all the authentic copies were systemically destroyed long before the theater fell. Well, most of them, at least."
Nestor glanced up at Chad. "Don't ask how I got it - it's a bit complicated."
Chad simply frowned and crossed his arms. Whether he was incensed that he was deprived of the opportunity to hold the official seal or not - no one knows. "Well then, why did you bring us here?"
Nestor scratched at his feathers with a zygodactyl claw as though he was completely ignoring him. Then, he opened his beak. "Well, first of all. AVE IMPERATOR" the capital letters were very important "is a library no one had visited in years and no one is going to bother to visit. Second of all, this secluded library is a perfect hiding place. A perfect place to commit...a confidence trick."
"A trick?" Hector was very confused.
But Chad knew. He knew so well that his lips curled at their corners into a smile - and it was not the pretty kind. No, it was not. It was the type of smiles to decorate the chins of serial killers and never-do-wells. It showed part of his gums but every single one of his teeth. All shining, scintillating with ill-intentions and self-serving bravado. Chad knew what Nestor was going to imply.
"We are going to forge a play, are we?"
"Yes," Nestor gravely nodded. "Yes we are."
Chad figured they were reaching to the deeper parts of Il Maledicta because everything there was positively ugly.
Apparently, they were reaching the bowels of the ruins because everything was getting larger and proportionally quieter. Claustrophobic alleyways gave way to nigh-abandoned hallways, their skeletons constantly hinting of Maledicta's former glory. Statues of mourning angels in various stages of crumbling. Stubborn ribbons of wallpaper clinging at the corners. Rain-rotted ceilings filled with flaking depictions of scenes from the play - or would have been if it were not for all that obtrusive wildlife in place. Chad kicked a frayed-edged pamphlet and watched it skid into a crack of a wall. Everything in this ruins was disgusting. He could go all day about how disgusting it was.
Too bad there was a parrot nestled between the lapels.
"I don't exactly understand why of all the body parts I have," Chad hissed, obviously trying his best not to rip the parrot from his suit and bite off its head like some sort of demented rock-star (with perfectly white teeth, of course). "You had to choose the most awkward place."
"My wings were sore," the parrot named Nestor Notabilis let out a content pattering of chirps, nestling deeper into pocket between Chad's expensive cotton shirt and even more expensive cashmere suit. The parrot's comfort level rose proportionally to the young man's chagrin.
"Well, you still have your feet." Chad fired back to this opponent.
"Well, my feet were sore too," Nestor replied.
It did not take a genius (genius) like Chad to realize Nestor was lying out completely, considering flying tend to use the forelimbs of the bird rather than the hindlimbs. If you wanted to be more specific, it was the keel (the sternum of the avian anatomy for you ingrates) that was a natural hook for the bundle of flight muscles that made flying possible for a bird. For course, Chad would never, ever, ever correct Nestor. He did not quite deserve such a worthy charity from Chad Chaswell Charles.
"But most of all," Nestor sighed as though he remembered a great loss from generations back - sad but not exactly distraught over the "tragedy" that had occurred. "My heart broke. I had to rest, my dear Chad. I needed a little tenderness within my life. I needed you."
But you just flew and asked for directions, Chad screamed in inside his head. You fucking lazy parrot.
"Also where you get that suit?" Nestor cocked an inquisitive head at Chad's chin, his parroty eyes drooping in laziness but shining in cheekiness. "I love it."
You fucking lazy greedy parrot. Chad screamed even more. In his thoughts, of course. Otherwise it would be embarrassing.
"I like you," the parrot playfully did a flip in the suit-shirt pocket and nibbled at the lapels drooping over his head. Then, he spread his pinecone-spade feathers, transforming into a misshapen sphere of fluffy irritation and comfort. "I think we are going to make a good team."
Being a time traveller that traversed various portions of space and time, Chad had the experience of sampling all sorts of exotic cuisines. Some were comparably mundane when placed side-by-side by meals from his native timeline. Some were incredibly novel, turning otherwise prosaic ingredients in unusually appetizing directions. Some others were so mind-blowing that it literally exploded the heads of the consumer. Of course, such an embarrassing fate never befelled Chad because well, he's Chad. At this point and time, Chad was wondering what roasted parrot tasted like.
"Uh, Chad?"
Chad glared at Hector so venomously the poor man nearly jumped out of his skin. To be honest, Chad had almost nearly forgotten about the book-fellow. If each member of the trio ("trio" as Chad was not exactly a fan being in a group with two complete strangers let along a parrot) were characters in some sort of novel-like collaborative endeavor, Hector was sort of the minor character. As in, he was just there for some enigmatic reason which was forgotten to the author of the book. Of course, it was obvious that Chad was the main character. Because reasons.
"Oh, uh. Haha. Don't mind me," It took Hector about ten seconds to back away and chuckle nervously. "I was just wondering if you were just about to, you know--" Hector made an motion with hands that implied shoving a parrot-sized object into his mouth before realizing he completely sucked at charades and gave up. "--Nevermind."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah. Uh-huh, that was what I was thinking." The bibliomancer adjusted his tie more than it was mortally necessary. It was pretty clear Hector was attempting to brush off the conversation. "Anyway, uh. what I was saying was that...we are here."
With a melodramatically sweep of his arms, Hector pointed to the majesty that was the mostly-intact library. It was a magnificent piece of work forged from the finest of alabasters, the strongest of metaphysical metals, and the most delicate of jewelry. (Just enough. Otherwise, it would look completely tacky.) Two sphinxes flanged at the columns, snarling in heraldic ritual. Their pinions heavy with the ripe fruit of a single fat gem. Wreathing the heads of these mythological hybrids were angels, laden with wing and fork-tails of bejewelled birds. In one hand carried a harp. In the other carried a plaque carved to look like a grandiose banner. On the banner, the words "AVE IMPERATOR" was engraved with expert hands and flawless kerning. Strangely, each face of these creatures, sphinx and angel, were the same - a sort of indescribable wad of plasticine with singular smug eye and an equally smug smile. It looked rather familiar.
"Well, someone likes himself a bit too much," Chad said.
Hector and Nestor stared at Chad for a few seconds before disregarding what he had just said.
"Anyway, I suppose we have important things to do," Nestor dropped down and flew down to the bottom of the suit (much to the wearer's irritation). Nestor wobbled to a comfortable height and turned back. "Allow me to introduce you to 'AVE IMPERATOR' Library. Home of the most complete collection of 'In The Company of Full-Stop Angels.'"
---
"Uh, Nestor sir." Hector raised a finger. "I thought you said this library has the most complete collection of 'In The Company of Full-Stop Angels.'"
"Well, I meant to say it had the most complete collection of variations," Nestor made bobbing gesture with his head as though he was trying to find the words appropriate for the sentence. "Of the play. I never said it was the real deal."
Hector sighed, the resulting echo truly showing how vacuous the library truly was. Apparently, it was larger on the inside than the outside as there were columns upon columns of shelves. All full of plays that were for some reason, arranged into the Dewey Decimal System. Each shelf embellished with a title pertaining to what most of the plays consists of. The titles were written in a strange language that seemed foreign but in fact, was quite understandable. "Main Character Dies," "Main Character Lives," "Everything Explodes" - the titles were so direct that Hector wondered if the unnamed lord of this delirict library was being particularly spiteful to the readers.
"Why do they have the same titles," a particularly irrate Chad interrupted the silence with two pamphlets in each hand. Each playbook was all in all completely the same to the down of the font they used - or would be if it were not for the fact that the labels on the bottom that dryly explained the contents. Chad's right had "Metafictional Plots." Chad's left had "Gratituous Homosexuality." "If the contents were completely different."
Hector stared at Chad's left. Then, the bibliomancer stared at the playbook in his own hand - the label in which claimed "Romantic Fantasy Comedy Plus Dragons" before sheepishly pocketing his version into his pants knowing that he was bit too embroiled in the story. "Ah, Chad. Because...fanfiction?"
Chad glowered. He knew. Oh, he knew.
"Ah ha ha, but you see," Hector continued as he was totally not smuggling "In The Company of Full-Stop Angels": "Everyone Is A Dinosaur" edition into his shirt. "This play probably was enviously beloved and as such, people had made copies upon copies in sort of a subconscious worship to this magnus opus. After all, imitation is the most sincere of flattery."
If Chad blinked, no one knew because of his sunglasses. A tangible awkwardness filled the library until Chad saw fit to interrupt it with a frivolous toss of his playbooks. "So, bird brain." Chad smiled warmly but his emphasis was more malignant than benevolent. "Why did you bring us here."
"AVE IMPERATOR was the first library of Ile Madedicta" a man's voice reflected aganist the ancient corridors as Nestor bobbed into the view of Hector of Chad. In the parrot's gnarled claws, there was a small and heavy object. "Before the theater fell into the abyss of decadence, there was a thing called regulation. You see, forgeries were a thing since the initiation of the Angels." Nestor blinked smugly before turning to the mage-librarian. "Hector, if you be so kind..."
A small object fell into Hector's hand. It was an important-looking seal of some sort, used to mark documents for some unknown purpose lost long ago. The stamp was an intricate but macabre design - two crowned hummingbirds spearing each other with their beaks. The bibliomancer could not help but marvel at the master craftsmanship of such an object. It was beautiful. Simply beautiful.
"That is the official seal - the proof that whatever play worthy enough to get such an brand is a bona-fide authentic Full-Stop Angel." Nestor settled down on Hector's shoulder and peered down as though he never seen such a seal before. "No one had seen it for centuries - perhaps eons if I may had to be flagrantly exaggerating - especially since all the authentic copies were systemically destroyed long before the theater fell. Well, most of them, at least."
Nestor glanced up at Chad. "Don't ask how I got it - it's a bit complicated."
Chad simply frowned and crossed his arms. Whether he was incensed that he was deprived of the opportunity to hold the official seal or not - no one knows. "Well then, why did you bring us here?"
Nestor scratched at his feathers with a zygodactyl claw as though he was completely ignoring him. Then, he opened his beak. "Well, first of all. AVE IMPERATOR" the capital letters were very important "is a library no one had visited in years and no one is going to bother to visit. Second of all, this secluded library is a perfect hiding place. A perfect place to commit...a confidence trick."
"A trick?" Hector was very confused.
But Chad knew. He knew so well that his lips curled at their corners into a smile - and it was not the pretty kind. No, it was not. It was the type of smiles to decorate the chins of serial killers and never-do-wells. It showed part of his gums but every single one of his teeth. All shining, scintillating with ill-intentions and self-serving bravado. Chad knew what Nestor was going to imply.
"We are going to forge a play, are we?"
"Yes," Nestor gravely nodded. "Yes we are."