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

Carlie didn't know where nameless went, but she had noticed and she did suddenly feel a bit more vulnerable. Which was fair enough, considering that in Il Maledicta being alone meant that you were a prime target for someone else's thoughts on how the scene should proceed, whether it be talk to me for a few hours on the wonderful applications of corn or allow me to murder you to advance my character arc. Luckily for Carlie though, she was an angel, the First Angel, according to some, and that meant that on the most part, people were afraid of her and content with using her as a centerpiece.

After realizing that no one was going to approach her, Carlie's feelings of fear were flipped and an indignant Carlie started to walk around and try to get someone to notice her so that she could hypothetically do something to Eemagee.

Unfortunately for her, this worked.

Chad was quite glad to get out of the musical section, as he wasn't sure for how much longer his voice could stand up to the varied voice range of the Quarterless Quartet, and the path to the angel was surprisingly slow. He would have thought that people would be more interested in seeing The First Angel, the Full Stop that bookends the periods before and after in person, but at the same time, it made sense.

Il Maledicta had been without angels for generations, while everyone had tried to make the show go on, become an angel, rise above the fold, become The Star, it had to have always resulted in failure. All of the generations, all of the families, all of the talent and words and variations, and In The Company of Full-Stop Angels was still in act one. Chad supposed that he would have to make sure to move the play forward, whether the people of Il Maledicta liked it or not.

While the time traveler-slash-drama buff mused to himself, a soon to be bit part made his move.

"Oi, Stranger, ye wish to see the Full Stop Angel?"

Chad did not stop walking as he looked at the actor with a bored look and replied, "Of course."

"With what power do you have fellowship?"

"I am but a Stranger from a far land, my allegiances are with powers above you."

"Ah, if so, then a test of skill you must pass in order to see the Angel?"

"By the authority of whom?"

"The Chosen One!"

Chad rolled his eyes. In early versions of the play the Chosen One was a nobody who happened to see the angel first and died from shock, their death being the first of the many tragedies that eventually led to the Stranger tragically murdering one of the angels and putting a metaphorical end to the area's prosperity. However, after a few years, the role of the Chosen One was changed to someone blessed by the angels, to attempt to lighten the play up. From what Chad had gleaned, this had gone over poorly, but it didn't surprise him that there were still some hold outs.

"I see. Show me to him."

And so Chad The Stranger was indeed shown to The First Chosen One Of The (First) Full Stop Angel, a man who was nicely dressed and had the faintest hints of a weird mustache growing.

"So, some foreign prince weeshes to zee The Angel?

"I am but a humble Stranger, here on behalf of my people."

"Well zen, if you weesh to pass, you will have to solve The Riddle."

Chad hated riddles. As the man and his accent continued to defy all rules of speech, Chad looked around. It was him, the Chosen One, and the other guy. No one else was currently around in any significant sense and going by his logic he figured that at least one of them was supposed to be dead anyway.

"So, vat iz your answer, Stranger?"

Chad raised his gloved arm, looking away from the Chosen One and the other guy. He smiled, and said, "Death."

And then there was a moment of silence. And then Chad passed through.

As he went farther, he thought he could hear faint, panicked words talking about some Phantom Killer, Chad sighed at the idea of having to deal with that violence loving distraction, added in to pander to the peasants who couldn't handle the play's complex themes and symbols.

Chad made his way forward, waded through the crowds, and made it to the center where surprisingly, he found a woman with messy blonde hair in jeans and a t-shirt.

"You??? You're the angel?"

"Well, yes, finally, I am Indeed The Angel, howhat are you wearing?"

"I could ask you the same thing!"

"Uh, I'm not the one with the messed up sense of color theory here."

"That's not the point, I-" Chad stopped his tirade, noticing that other people were taking notice. "We need to go." Chad grabbed Carlie by the arm and dragged her away into a nook. This was not well received by the crowd, who upon noticing that their Angel had gone away, moved after them. Still ignoring Carlie's protests, the two moved around the wall, with Carlie yelling frantically as Chad tapped the walls with his metal gloved hand.

*tink*

The wall opened, and Carlie and Chad walked through, leaving a chunk of Maledictians without their angel.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN!"

Now that they were out of dodge, Chad had tuned back in to Carlie's words, although it was not without regret. As the girl went on and on about a bunch of boring things, Chad blurted out what he would hope would shut her the fuck up, "I'm going to kill Imago."

Carlie then shut the fuck up.

With the girl quiet Chad started to think about how to proceed from there. "Alright, I need you to tell me what happened to you and how you got to be the Angel and anything else that might be important, if we want to kill Imago we need to be careful and we need to pull this off as perfectly as possible so don't skim on the details."

Carlie nodded and then began her spiel on events so far. Said spiel also doubled as a criticism on the state of Il Maledicta, much to Chad's disgust. Carlie spared nothing and no one, calling the outfits stupid and ugly, commenting on how no one seemed to know how to decorate or renovate, musing that all of the broken bits of the playhouse were probably safety hazards, and over all just rolling her eyes at everyone's attempts to be dramatic or shocking. Overall, Carlie found the idea that a bunch of people just decided to hole up in some decrepit playhouse for the rest of their lives to be a bit much.

Chad finally lost it at that one.

"A bit much? A BIT MUCH? YOU BRING THE DEAD BACK TO LIFE AND THIS PSYCHOLOGICAL PHENOMENA SUSPENDS YOUR DISBELIEF?"

"It's fucking magic!"

Chad gasped and stared as if Carlie had murdered his first child. "Magic? You think that all this," Chad raised his arms in an exaggerated manner, "Is just the work of fucking magic?"

"Yeah! Some fucking mind control shit!"

"Some... fucking mind control shit." Chad spat out the words, giving them as little legitimacy as possible.

"Well duh, what do you think happened?"

"I think, my dear Carlie, that we are in the middle of something that can only come from the human mind. These are not people under a spell, or curse, if they were, we would fall under it as well! No no, this is something deeper, something primal, this is what happens when the human obsession takes hold." Chad was pointing and moving, as if that added to his argument, "Il Maledicta as we know it is the work of generations after generations of people following their passion, the stage, a chance to star in the greatest play that will ever be written, and to have your legacy spread across the world! They are not locked in by magic or something so blasé, they are locked in by their own minds, by the minds of their ancestors, Il Maledicta is only a prison if you look at it from the outside! Each crack in the wall, every corpse on the floor, it is all the result of a spectacular exhibition of the human minds ability to so majestically defend the choices we come to regret, far after we can take them back." Chad looked like he was on the verge of tears, "It's so beautiful."

Carlie was almost beginning to wonder if Chad's sunglasses made him blind, "It's shit. It is literally, all shit."

"YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND THE BEAUTY BEHIND THE FILTHY OUTER LAYER!" Chad took a deep breath, "Of course, a peasant like you couldn't understand the metaphors that this playhouse holds."

Carlie almost let out a sarcastic, 'Like what', but was afraid that Chad would have an actual answer for her. Instead, she decided to try change the subject, "What about Imago?"

"Well, obviously Imago represents-"

"No, I mean what about killing him?"

"Oh. Yeah, that... I guess we should go back to the library, Hector and Nestor should be finished by now."

Before Carlie could protest or ask more questions, the two most self-centered people in the entire playhouse noticed that the entire time that they were talking, there was a girl carrying an urn just standing there, trying to take up as little space as possible.

Chad stared at the urn, and in a way, the urn stared back.

Chad took a look at her and simply said, "You are coming with us."

She nodded, and something else in the room smiled a smile with many teeth.

Soon.