MORITURI TE SALUTANT!! [S!4] ROUND 3- OPHIDIAN JADE!

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Nameless and Carlie fled into the backstage, down a narrow and dimly lit corridor. They were too preoccupied to note how bare and plain it was in comparison to the ostentatious decoration that adorned most of Il Maledicta. Occasional wall sconces lit their way down the well-worn hallway, illuminating numerous doors with long faded names. As they ran Carlie was glancing over her shoulder and muttering in between breaths, cursing both her powers and this absurd situation. Nameless was quickly running out of breath; previous to this battle she had not exercised or even left her booth for a long time. As the effort started to burn her lungs she grabbed Carlie by the sleeve and pulled her through the nearest door, into a room empty of people but filled with clothing.

There were rows of racks of fantastic costumes towards the back of the room. Amongst the selection there were elegant gowns in a rainbow of colours, stylish waistcoats, leather jackets, decorated surcoats and ornate suits of armour in shining silver or cruel black, drab jumpsuits and stylised uniforms of policemen, soldiers, nurses and maids and so on and so forth. There were heavy fur costumes with sewn on claws and antlers, designed to give the look of some kind of monster foreign to both Nameless and Carlie and more, too much to mention and still there was more; boxes of props littered the floor. They were filled with fake crowns with numerous glittering gems of different colours, staffs and sceptres, canes, helms and shields and swords, pistols fashioned from clockwork or from more modern materials. On the right hand wall there was a short row of tables each sporting a large semicircular mirror, framed with plastic flowers or faintly glittering lights. The tables were covered with pots of powders all coloured slightly differently from one another, vials of sweet smelling perfumes, brushes like paintbrushes but thinner and more delicate, and other brushes; hairbrushes and combs. On the nearest table a lit candelabrum flickered to itself, with a packet of matches beside it.

For a moment, while Carlie and Nameless caught their breath, they stood in a stunned silence, gazing around the room at the innumerable costumes. Even if this wasn’t your thing it was difficult not to be impressed by the extraordinary collection and the sheer scale of it. Carlie might have wondered what this room said about her psyche but she was past the point where it seemed useful to question the how or the why of this bizarre hallucination. As it was she was more concerned with getting away from that psycho in the mask. She figured that this place was likely a dead end, and was turning to head back out when she was stopped short by the sight of Nameless casually slipping out of her robe.

“What are you doing?” Carlie demanded, immediately averting her eyes from Nameless’ candlelit nudity. “Remember the psycho with the mask? He’s probably coming after me so we don’t have time for whatever the shit this is.” It took her a moment to notice Nameless’ pale reflection in the row of mirrors and then she jammed her eyes shut. “Seriously if this is some repressed sexuality thing then I’m not interested and this is hardly the time.” There was no response for half a minute or so until Carlie felt a tug upon her sleeve and then a book pressed into her hands and it was only then she remembered Nameless’ unwillingness to speak. “Are you still doing that? Okay fine.” She reluctantly opened her eyes and looked down at the note.

‘u need nu cloves’

Carlie glanced over at Nameless who was still nude and trying on a fistful of golden necklaces. “Oh right obviously. This is clearly the perfect time for a makeover!” She snapped. “What a fantastic idea! I’m sure that the masked psychopath is just going to stand and wait while we pick out clothes and braid each others hair.” Nameless glanced momentarily back towards Carlie and then back to the box of costume jewellery she was investigating, absently she clicked her fingers and beckoned Carlie over. Carlie sighed and brought her the notebook. “Seriously can you not just talk to me? It would save so much time.” Nameless took the book and after a moment handed it back.

‘i cant talk’ and written below it ‘u stik out’

“Is there a point to this?” Carlie asked. “I mean I know I keep going on about this psycho mask guy and everything, but seriously lets not be still here when he gets here. I mean hanging around talking about fashion is just about the dumbest fucking thing we could be doing right now!”

For the slightest moment Nameless almost kind of regretted selling her voice. It was the first time she’d ever felt that way as before the battle she had seldom had need for conversation. Days and weeks and sometimes months had passed without ever needing more than the price list she’d wrote out. Things were more interesting now she guessed, but at the same time they had been substantially less profitable, which now she thought about it was something she wanted to talk to this woman about, but one conversation at a time. ‘syco spot u easy bcos’ and here she drew an arrow back to ‘u stik out’ Understanding dawned.

“Oh a disguise.” Carlie replied. “Why the hell didn’t you say that in the first place?” She looked down at herself and reluctantly had to agree. Amongst the myriad of different styles she’d seen the people of Il Maledicta wearing she hadn’t seen anyone wearing anything even close to this. “Yeah I guess you have a point. I’ll try to find something to blend in.” She started towards the racks of clothes when Nameless gripped her by her sleeve and yanked her back. “What is it now?”

‘too much ?’ Carlie looked at Nameless. She looked almost as though she’d decided to try to wear every item in the costume jewellery box at once; a number of necklaces hung around her neck, clattering and clanging into one another with her every movement, she wore a golden ring on every finger, a matching pair of bracelets and anklets hung loose from her stick like limbs, and finally a delicate silver-effect tiara. But despite the copious amounts of fake jewellery the most noticeable thing about Nameless was how painfully thin she was. She had no curves; her body was like a bag of bones balanced upon a pair of twigs. Her ribs showed through her chest making her look malnourished. The overall impression was of vulnerability; she looked as though the slightest tumble could break her.

“You’ve absolutely no modesty have you?” Carlie asked.

‘yes $1000 if u want it ?’ Nameless grinned.

Carlie frowned and reread the note, attempting to parse the sentence into something that actually made sense and after a moment gave up. Ever mindful of the potential threat of death by murderous mask wearing psychopath Carlie opted to not try to press Nameless for an explanation and instead headed to the racks of clothing to look for a disguise.

Nameless did the same, though really it wasn’t a disguise as the masked man had never seen her. It hadn’t been vital that she change her clothes so much as it was potentially opportunistic. Before she’d met up with Carlie she’d observed the people of this place, acting out the parts that they had been assigned and she figured that there was almost certainly money to be made here if she could find the right angle, and the right character to become. She’d found it rather surprising, and fortuitous, when her collar had informed her that none of these items were owned; all of them ripe for the taking if she wanted them. As such it was something of a shame that nothing was really valuable; everything was just a cheap imitation of the thing it purported to be.

As she looked through a rack of elegant dresses she contemplated assuming the role of a wealthy aristocrat; certainly the shimmer and the sparkle of the dresses made this option appealing. However when she ran her hand along the fabric she found it rough and uncomfortable and she decided against such a role. The illusion of wealth was not the actuality of wealth and she couldn’t see a clear path from one to the other. Nonetheless she claimed the dresses as her own and sold them for the measly few dollars that they were worth. They disappeared one by one, seemingly into nothingness, but in fact off through the multiverse and into Raxucorp’s Acquisition Department back in her home world.

Carlie was nowhere near as picky. She wasn’t an exhibitionist and had no intention of stripping down to her smallclothes just to find a disguise. As such she opted to wear the first thing she found that she could wear over her clothes; a full length hunter green greatcoat with a scarf and an almost matching trilby hat to take the attention away from her messy blonde hair. She walked along the aisles to where she found Nameless still nude and scrutinizing a semi-transparent frilly white dress with attached feathered wings and a plastic halo suspended by a wire. She turned to Carlie and cocked her head questioningly as if to say ‘what do you think?’

“I'd say that’s probably a bad idea.” Carlie replied. “Look… um… what was your name again?”

The conversation came to a halt for a moment while Nameless retrieved her notebook and scribbled down: ‘dont hav 1’

“Okay, yeah, sure. You don’t have a name, whatever.” Carlie was tiring of Nameless’ evasiveness and of her attitude in general. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’d saved her life earlier, she’d probably have left her to fend for herself. “Look, you’re probably sick of hearing this by now, I’m getting sick of saying it, but hurry the fuck up and lets get out of here before that psycho masked man finds us.”

‘i didnt c him folow us he dusnt no we r here unles he heres u shouting’ Nameless wrote, after a moment she continued to write. ‘mite not b folowing us ?’

“Might-” Carlie started and then stopped herself and lowered her voice. “might not be following us? Why on earth would he not be following us?”

‘just didnt seem the tipe hes 2 showy cant see him chasing peepl’

Carlie was a little relieved, though skeptical, while simultaneously a little irritated that Nameless hadn't thought of mentioning this earlier, but whether she was right or wrong she wasn't going to risk her life on a hunch. "Maybe, but hurry up and put some clothes on anyway."

Nameless leafed through the uniforms of various service professions but rejected them because in order to earn any money with them she’d have to seek employment and then presumably do the job long enough to pick up a paycheck. If the last round of this battle was anything to go by someone would be dead long before that became possible. Though she kept hold of a couple of the uniforms on the basis that they might prove useful for other purposes; she shoved them into a faux-leather satchel taken from the props bins, into which she had already stashed her robe.

Carlie was waiting at the doorway, tentatively peering out into the corridor beyond every couple of minutes. Eventually Nameless emerged from the racks, clothed in a sleeveless top and ankle-length flowing skirt, both in a distinct midnight blue. Under her arm she carried a bundle of bunched up semi-transparent fabric, also midnight blue. “Finally.” Carlie said, “You look… whatever… lets just get out of here.” Nameless held up one finger towards Carlie as she walked over to the makeup tables. “Oh god, you have got to be kidding me!” Carlie said, with a resigned sigh.

Nameless’ world had never developed a thriving cosmetics industry and so much on the packed table was alien to her. After some trial and error and some reluctant assistance from Carlie she finally achieved the look she was after; dark violet eyeliner and a matching shade of lipstick. When she was done she retrieved the bundle of fabric, a semi-transparent midnight blue veil, and draped it over herself. She was going for an exotic look, and while she wasn’t quite there she gave a reasonable approximation of exotic, which was all that was necessary in Il Maledicta anyway. ‘how do i luk ?’ she wrote it on the mirror with the lipstick.

“Hot.” Carlie said. “Or whatever it is you are going for, I don’t even know. Please tell me you’re done now?”

‘allmost’ Nameless grabbed another satchel from the boxes and quickly began to fill it with items from the makeup tables; creams, lotions, perfumes and powders, after a certain point she stopped being selective and tipped as much into the bag as it could hold.

“I’m not helping you put all that on.” Carlie said, “You want to look like a clown you can do that on your own time.”

Nameless retrieved her other satchel and from within it her notebook, in which she wrote ‘murchandice’ Carlie seemed nonplussed until she added ‘o k lets go’ and finally they went.

In the corridor Nameless insisted they double back upon themselves, reasoning that it would be the last place the masked man would be looking for them. In the time in which they had been gone, the empty great hall had filled once again, though not to the extent it had been before. The remains of the chandelier had been dragged away and the feasting table set back up how it had been. A rudimentary and rickety scaffolding had been partially set up off to one side, and a number of people dressed as some approximation of construction workers were standing around it arguing with one another. The peril of the masked man’s attack seemed to be largely forgotten; people were eating, drinking and being merry without a care in the world. Despite Nameless’ insistence that he wouldn’t be here, Carlie couldn’t help but glance anxiously around, looking for any sign of that black cloak, though none was to be found.

They passed straight through the great hall and eventually came to where Carlie had first arrived in Il Maledicta; the market district. The only sign of the man who had been murdered and then unmurdered again was a chalk outline, drawn after the fact and with a great deal of uncertainty; both about the build of the man and the position he had died in and seemingly about the shape of human beings in general. The first empty stall that they passed Nameless claimed for her own. Paying no heed to Carlie’s further complaints she quickly covered the stall with cosmetics, taking care to place those with the brightest colours or most interesting looking bottles near the front to draw attention. On the siding of the stall she wrote ‘toniks and tinchures’ and ‘remedys from a faraway land’ in the fanciest script she could manage.

Carlie rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, I see. I’m really glad we’re hanging around here, risking our lives, so we can try to sell makeup and pretend its some mystical ointment from a mystical land.” She said with mock enthusiasm. “I mean I know that it’s clearly makeup and that some of the stuff clearly has the label still on, but man this just feels like such a good productive use of our time here, right?” she sighed. “Seriously, who is going to buy this crap?”

‘ne1’

“Uh huh.” Carlie replied. “And when it doesn’t cure what ails them?”

‘it wil’

“That’d be a neat trick, care to tell me how you intend to make that happen?”

‘they r acters theyr ilneses r acting they buy my cures and act like they r cured’

To her chagrin Carlie couldn’t really find a fault with that logic, and shortly Nameless was proved to be correct. Customers went away satisfied; their imaginary maladies cured by her imaginary remedies. A small pile of wooden coins was slowly beginning to mount up while Nameless’ collar was busily trying to work out an exchange rate for this new currency. Business was even brisker after Nameless hired a street urchin (or a kid acting the part of a street urchin) as a barker after Carlie refused to do so.

“Great so you’ve earned a pile of wooden coins.” Carlie said. “So what, they’re not real currency, they’re not worth anything.”

‘do u hav paper mone in ur world ?’

Carlie replied that she did, but that that was different.

‘how ?’ Nameless asked. ‘mone is pretend here but if every1 pretends that makes it real mone’

Carlie was silent for a minute or two, while Nameless attended to a couple of customers. When she finally looked back over Carlie opted to change the subject. “What are we even doing here anyway? What’s the point? Shouldn’t we be going after that guy, Imago?”

‘y ?’

“Why?” Carlie parroted back as if shocked at the question. “No actually I shouldn’t be surprised, I don’t know why I expected you might have paid the least bit of attention to that creepy death woman who told us that that is what we should be doing.” Nameless responded by underlining her previous ‘y ?’ and Carlie snapped back, “Well how else am I going to snap out of this and get back to reality?” She paused. “Look I’m not standing around dissecting my motives with a figment of my imagination, this is unbelievably stupid. I’m out of here.” Nameless grabbed her by the sleeve once again and pulled her back. “What is it? You don’t need me. I’m completely irrelevant to your plan to set up a shop and settle down in this place or whatever the hell you’re up to!”

Nameless scribbled up a sign saying ‘bak in 5 minits’ and put it up before turning her attention to Carlie. ‘how wil u kil imago’

“I don’t know!” Carlie replied. “But how do you propose to kill him? How does this achieve anything?”

‘i cant im not a fiter and i dont think u r ither’ Nameless wrote, ‘masked man said he had “clients” and “hed be paid wel 4 an angel” ?’

Carlie was momentarily speechless. “You think he’s a mercenary? Are you saying you want to hire the psycho who tried to kill me?”

‘no’ Nameless wrote. ‘i dont care about imago’

“Then what do you care about?” Carlie asked.

Nameless shrugged. ‘$’ she wrote, ‘speaking of wich u o me 4 ur resq’

“Pardon?” Carlie frowned.

‘gess im like mersenary il do whatever u want 4 $’ and underlined ‘u o me 4 ur resq’ for emphasis.

“Give me a minute.” Carlie said thoughtfully.

In the meantime Nameless reopened the shop and served the waiting customers, before shutting it down for good. During her conversation with Carlie her collar had worked out an exchange rate and it had become apparent that running a stall simply wasn’t worth the hassle. She paid the urchin for his trouble, gathered up her unsold wares, cashed in her almost worthless wooden coins and returned to Carlie.

“Okay.” She said. “But you’ll listen to me and actually do what I say.” Nameless nodded in response. “And we’re going to need some plan to take down Imago; preferably one that doesn’t suck.”