DGS3 -- Staging: The Executive Level
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The chase took the trio through a series of intricate turns and misdirections with Coda leading the way, since she knew the ins and outs of the facility. She took them up some stairs, down some others, through a lengthy hallway with walls coated in mirrors, and then around a corner where Nanaue knocked over a marble bust of an elegant looking old man. He looked far less elegant in pieces on the floor, but they did not take the time to stop and lament the loss of art, and soon they found themselves stepping off an ‘Up’ escalator and into a well-lit and well decorated but otherwise empty lobby.
Coda led the conga-line with Zayin in the middle and Nanaue bringing up the rear. They were quiet for a moment, looking around as they moved forward in unison, and the only noise that hummed through the room was the gentle buzz of electricity emitting from the fluorescent lighting. Every once in a while a plant, a chair, or a piece of art punctuated the walls on either side of them, and rarer yet was the occasional closed door.
“I think we’re getting close to the Executive Level,” Coda said quietly - her voice carried despite her efforts, and she winced. “I don’t come this way often. This is kind of a secret sort of office area before you get to the actual Executive -”
“We lost Nanaue,” Zayin interjected.
Coda whipped around, wide eyes hidden by her sunglasses. “What!?” she whisper-shouted.
“We lost Nanaue,” the angelic sword-of-a-man thumbed over his shoulder, past his black hair, looking nonchalant. “He’s not behind us anymore.”
“Was he there when we got off the escalator?!”
Zayin brought his thumb and forefinger up to his chin, thinking.
“Oh, this is not good, Zayin. This is not good at all. Really not good. Really, really, really, really not-”
“Well, let’s not panic,” Zayin cut Coda off before she could spiral any further. “We just need to think this out and come up with a plan. He couldn’t have gotten too far, right? If I had to guess, he probably went through that open door.”
He pointed, and Coda let out a breath of relief that visibly relaxed her. She adjusted her sunglasses, straightened her overcoat, and started towards the door. Her angelic companion followed behind.
When they stepped through the door, they both stopped and frowned.
“It’s a hallway,” Zayin pointed out. “And that’s a lot of doors. And they’re all closed. How are we going to know which one he went through? He may not have gone through any of them! …I really think we need to stop and come up with a plan.”
Coda, visibly tense again, clenched her jaw.
“This is really, really not good.”
Coda led the conga-line with Zayin in the middle and Nanaue bringing up the rear. They were quiet for a moment, looking around as they moved forward in unison, and the only noise that hummed through the room was the gentle buzz of electricity emitting from the fluorescent lighting. Every once in a while a plant, a chair, or a piece of art punctuated the walls on either side of them, and rarer yet was the occasional closed door.
“I think we’re getting close to the Executive Level,” Coda said quietly - her voice carried despite her efforts, and she winced. “I don’t come this way often. This is kind of a secret sort of office area before you get to the actual Executive -”
“We lost Nanaue,” Zayin interjected.
Coda whipped around, wide eyes hidden by her sunglasses. “What!?” she whisper-shouted.
“We lost Nanaue,” the angelic sword-of-a-man thumbed over his shoulder, past his black hair, looking nonchalant. “He’s not behind us anymore.”
“Was he there when we got off the escalator?!”
Zayin brought his thumb and forefinger up to his chin, thinking.
“Oh, this is not good, Zayin. This is not good at all. Really not good. Really, really, really, really not-”
“Well, let’s not panic,” Zayin cut Coda off before she could spiral any further. “We just need to think this out and come up with a plan. He couldn’t have gotten too far, right? If I had to guess, he probably went through that open door.”
He pointed, and Coda let out a breath of relief that visibly relaxed her. She adjusted her sunglasses, straightened her overcoat, and started towards the door. Her angelic companion followed behind.
When they stepped through the door, they both stopped and frowned.
“It’s a hallway,” Zayin pointed out. “And that’s a lot of doors. And they’re all closed. How are we going to know which one he went through? He may not have gone through any of them! …I really think we need to stop and come up with a plan.”
Coda, visibly tense again, clenched her jaw.
“This is really, really not good.”
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They searched for what felt like hours.
Truly, the Executive Level was like a maze; the halls were a regular labyrinth of winding corridors and doors that opened to nowhere, reminding Coda of a dream she'd had once where she'd been trapped inside a never-ending office building. What’s more, the air was painfully sterile and there were no windows— only the harsh glare of the artificial lightning beaming down from on high, casting everything in stark, shadowless relief. Even most of the offices they peered into were empty, only the occasional employee manifesting to send odd looks their way.
Every turn brought no sign of Nanaue, and the pair had all but lost hope.
“Coda, there’s no need to panic,” soothed Zayin when they finally paused for a breather, clearly channeling as much divine patience as he could muster. “We will find him.”
“Panicking?” Coda scoffed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Who’s panicking? Certainly not me. I am the picture of calm right now. The spitting image of inner peace! You’re the one who’s panicking. Not me.”
“... As you say,” the angel replied, very obviously not convinced. He glanced around the hall they were currently standing in, a calculating glint in his eye. “We’ve tried nearly all of the doors in this hall, singing out for him all the while. I don’t believe he’s here, Coda.”
Shoulders slumping, Coda heaved a heavy sigh that seemed to drain the life out of her. She shook her head, pain evident in her expression. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but…”
With a blatant lack of enthusiasm, she reached inside her jacket, producing a misshapen, brown object that closely resembled a dried prune.
Her angelic companion’s attention zeroed in on the strange object instantly, his brow furrowing as he attempted to puzzle out just what it was. It appeared to be about the length of a finger, an unattractive greenish-brown in color, and emitted a… distinctly… fishy-smelling odor.
Zayin’s nose wrinkled in disgust when the unpleasant aroma assaulted his nostrils, his lips curling back as he shot Coda a disbelieving glance.
“A… dried sardine? Have you been carrying that with you this entire time?!”
Coda sniffed. “What? I snagged a few in the Recreation Level on our way out. Figured it might be easier to dissuade Nanaue from eating people with treats… you’ve seen how food-motivated he is!”
Zayin stared at her, clearly speechless. “He is not a dog, Coda.”
“Yes, but… he’s like a toddler, right? At least mentally.” Coda rubbed at the back of her neck, looking away. “Positive reinforcement... works better on kids. Believe me, I would know.”
Well... there wasn’t much Zayin could say to that. There were things he wanted to say, certainly, but he figured now would not be an opportune moment, especially when tensions were already so high. Instead, the angel looked back at the last door lining the hall they were standing in, a portal that would probably open up to an endless maze of even more doors. He sighed, steeling himself for the task ahead.
“Right,” said Zayin. “What is the plan with the fish?”
Holding the repugnant sardine out before her like an exorcist might a crucifix, Coda began to walk to the last door. Only lagging a few steps behind (mostly because of the powerful smell), Zayin followed.
“Sharks have a good sense of smell, you know. Maybe he’ll come to us if he can sniff out a tasty snack!” Coda declared, swinging the last door wide open with a grand flourish.
The door banged open with a loud, echoing thud, revealing a small yet comfortable waiting area. Several Carnivale employees were scattered about the room, either carrying files from one place to another or milling about the reception desk.
Heads turned. All eyes focused upon Coda and Zayin with unwavering attention.
Coda hastily lowered her fishy beacon, her cheeks blazing an embarrassing shade of bright cherry red.
"Erm— nevermind all that," she muttered to Zayin, avoiding direct eye contact with anyone. She stuffed the fish back into her pocket, stepping inside the room. Her gaze darted from one place to the next, drinking it all in.
Thankfully, the waiting area was a far cry from the meddlesome hallways they had just left behind. In fact, it appeared more like the study of a fancy mansion or a sitting area than a corporate office. A plush couch in a deep shade of crimson sat near an old-fashioned armchair in front of what seemed to be a gas fireplace, artfully arranged around a glass coffee table. On one wall hung an impressive oil painting depicting a rugged mountainside, the broad brushstrokes of the canvas lit in a beguiling glow by the lamps scattered about the room.
No sign of their shark-shaped quarry, though. Drat.
Coda's eyes slid across the room, mind whirring. On either side of the reception desk stood a pair of polished mahogany pillars, generally towering over the room and making the place seem very well-to-do and luxurious. And behind that reception desk was a door. Big. Swanky. Important-looking.
Turning on her heel, Coda leaned in close to her angelic companion.
"Zayin," she began, in a whisper. She nodded towards the big fancy door. "We absolutely have to get past that door there."
"What?" the angel asked at a normal volume, gaze darting to the door. One eyebrow quirked, questioning. "Why? What's behind it?"
"Keep your voice down," Coda hissed, eyes darting to squint suspiciously at the employees over her shoulder. Thankfully, they appeared to have all gone back to doing... whatever they were doing, seemingly content to let their fellow Carnivale attendant make an absolute fool out of herself.
Attention returning to Zayin, Coda sighed. "The big man himself, my angelic friend. That's the Man in Red's office. He runs this whole show."
"What?" boomed Zayin, eyes flashing a brilliant, vengeful gold. His mouth set in a grim line, his shoulders thrown back as he made to stalk forward and vanquish evil or whatever else— and were it not for a gentle pressure at his elbow, he might very well have done it!
Instead, Zayin glanced down to find Coda holding him in place, a delicate hand laid in the crook of his arm. She stared up at him, brows lowered in reprimand and chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
"I know you probably really, really want to, but you can't go in there and fuck him up, dude. He'll pummel you, or else security will," Coda timidly reminded him. "And, well... Nanaue might be in there."
She had no earthly idea how a giant half-shark half-man might have escaped the notice of an entire waiting room full of people, but Nanaue had slipped under her nose, so she could only assume he had some hidden talent for stealth. Because of course he did.
Face softening upon seeing Coda’s concern, Zayin sighed. "Very well. What do you need me to do?"
"I need you to get an audience with the Man in Red," Coda answered, reaching up to smartly adjust her shades. "I can help you talk your way into it. Once we're inside, I can take a quick look around to make sure our shark-y pal isn't hiding in there. All you need to do... is keep the big man's attention on you. Now, does that sound like a plan?"
Her angelic companion hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "A half-baked one. But I do believe your heart's in the right place."
"That's the spirit!"
Plan in place, Coda sidled up beside the reception desk, flicking her braid over her shoulder as she did. She studied the vase of lilies sitting on the corner of the desk for a moment, even reaching out to tickle at some of the delicate petals with a finger, before finally turning her attention to the receptionist.
She was briefly— very briefly! —distracted by the sight of the oil painting from before, now visible from a different angle. Instead of depicting an idyllic mountainside with all the usual trappings of nature, it now portrayed a twisted, burning hellscape, complete with demonic creatures reveling in the silent screams and piteous weeping of their human victims.
Oh.
Coda gulped, fighting to keep her pleasant demeanor.
Remember your training, Coda, she reminded herself. Remember your training!
"Hi!" she chirped after an unfortunate beat of hesitation, smiling a smile that was usually reserved for the more... difficult contestants, most notably those of the Unruly Witch Boy variety. "My friend here wants an audience with the boss. Do you think you can make that happen?"
The receptionist smiled back, equally as fake. She glanced over Coda's shoulder at the tall, dark and muscular Angel of Challenge, pursing her lips. "That depends. Why is he requesting such a meeting?"
"Oh, you know. The usual," Coda replied breezily. "Self-righteous ranting about the ethical scruples of this whole contest, or lack thereof. I figured the boss might get a good laugh out of it, at the very least. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a lark, every now and again?"
Coda very pointedly did not look back at Zayin as she said this, and thus did not see him staring a pair of very self-righteous holes into the back of her head. Still, she felt his gaze keenly enough, evidenced by the drop of anxious sweat beading upon her forehead.
"Hmm-mmm," the receptionist hummed, tearing her stare away from Zayin. She scrutinized her computer screen, prodding a little at her keyboard with a few sharp clickity-clacks of her nails over the keys. "I suppose I can book you in..."
Truly, the Executive Level was like a maze; the halls were a regular labyrinth of winding corridors and doors that opened to nowhere, reminding Coda of a dream she'd had once where she'd been trapped inside a never-ending office building. What’s more, the air was painfully sterile and there were no windows— only the harsh glare of the artificial lightning beaming down from on high, casting everything in stark, shadowless relief. Even most of the offices they peered into were empty, only the occasional employee manifesting to send odd looks their way.
Every turn brought no sign of Nanaue, and the pair had all but lost hope.
“Coda, there’s no need to panic,” soothed Zayin when they finally paused for a breather, clearly channeling as much divine patience as he could muster. “We will find him.”
“Panicking?” Coda scoffed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Who’s panicking? Certainly not me. I am the picture of calm right now. The spitting image of inner peace! You’re the one who’s panicking. Not me.”
“... As you say,” the angel replied, very obviously not convinced. He glanced around the hall they were currently standing in, a calculating glint in his eye. “We’ve tried nearly all of the doors in this hall, singing out for him all the while. I don’t believe he’s here, Coda.”
Shoulders slumping, Coda heaved a heavy sigh that seemed to drain the life out of her. She shook her head, pain evident in her expression. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but…”
With a blatant lack of enthusiasm, she reached inside her jacket, producing a misshapen, brown object that closely resembled a dried prune.
Her angelic companion’s attention zeroed in on the strange object instantly, his brow furrowing as he attempted to puzzle out just what it was. It appeared to be about the length of a finger, an unattractive greenish-brown in color, and emitted a… distinctly… fishy-smelling odor.
Zayin’s nose wrinkled in disgust when the unpleasant aroma assaulted his nostrils, his lips curling back as he shot Coda a disbelieving glance.
“A… dried sardine? Have you been carrying that with you this entire time?!”
Coda sniffed. “What? I snagged a few in the Recreation Level on our way out. Figured it might be easier to dissuade Nanaue from eating people with treats… you’ve seen how food-motivated he is!”
Zayin stared at her, clearly speechless. “He is not a dog, Coda.”
“Yes, but… he’s like a toddler, right? At least mentally.” Coda rubbed at the back of her neck, looking away. “Positive reinforcement... works better on kids. Believe me, I would know.”
Well... there wasn’t much Zayin could say to that. There were things he wanted to say, certainly, but he figured now would not be an opportune moment, especially when tensions were already so high. Instead, the angel looked back at the last door lining the hall they were standing in, a portal that would probably open up to an endless maze of even more doors. He sighed, steeling himself for the task ahead.
“Right,” said Zayin. “What is the plan with the fish?”
Holding the repugnant sardine out before her like an exorcist might a crucifix, Coda began to walk to the last door. Only lagging a few steps behind (mostly because of the powerful smell), Zayin followed.
“Sharks have a good sense of smell, you know. Maybe he’ll come to us if he can sniff out a tasty snack!” Coda declared, swinging the last door wide open with a grand flourish.
The door banged open with a loud, echoing thud, revealing a small yet comfortable waiting area. Several Carnivale employees were scattered about the room, either carrying files from one place to another or milling about the reception desk.
Heads turned. All eyes focused upon Coda and Zayin with unwavering attention.
Coda hastily lowered her fishy beacon, her cheeks blazing an embarrassing shade of bright cherry red.
"Erm— nevermind all that," she muttered to Zayin, avoiding direct eye contact with anyone. She stuffed the fish back into her pocket, stepping inside the room. Her gaze darted from one place to the next, drinking it all in.
Thankfully, the waiting area was a far cry from the meddlesome hallways they had just left behind. In fact, it appeared more like the study of a fancy mansion or a sitting area than a corporate office. A plush couch in a deep shade of crimson sat near an old-fashioned armchair in front of what seemed to be a gas fireplace, artfully arranged around a glass coffee table. On one wall hung an impressive oil painting depicting a rugged mountainside, the broad brushstrokes of the canvas lit in a beguiling glow by the lamps scattered about the room.
No sign of their shark-shaped quarry, though. Drat.
Coda's eyes slid across the room, mind whirring. On either side of the reception desk stood a pair of polished mahogany pillars, generally towering over the room and making the place seem very well-to-do and luxurious. And behind that reception desk was a door. Big. Swanky. Important-looking.
Turning on her heel, Coda leaned in close to her angelic companion.
"Zayin," she began, in a whisper. She nodded towards the big fancy door. "We absolutely have to get past that door there."
"What?" the angel asked at a normal volume, gaze darting to the door. One eyebrow quirked, questioning. "Why? What's behind it?"
"Keep your voice down," Coda hissed, eyes darting to squint suspiciously at the employees over her shoulder. Thankfully, they appeared to have all gone back to doing... whatever they were doing, seemingly content to let their fellow Carnivale attendant make an absolute fool out of herself.
Attention returning to Zayin, Coda sighed. "The big man himself, my angelic friend. That's the Man in Red's office. He runs this whole show."
"What?" boomed Zayin, eyes flashing a brilliant, vengeful gold. His mouth set in a grim line, his shoulders thrown back as he made to stalk forward and vanquish evil or whatever else— and were it not for a gentle pressure at his elbow, he might very well have done it!
Instead, Zayin glanced down to find Coda holding him in place, a delicate hand laid in the crook of his arm. She stared up at him, brows lowered in reprimand and chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
"I know you probably really, really want to, but you can't go in there and fuck him up, dude. He'll pummel you, or else security will," Coda timidly reminded him. "And, well... Nanaue might be in there."
She had no earthly idea how a giant half-shark half-man might have escaped the notice of an entire waiting room full of people, but Nanaue had slipped under her nose, so she could only assume he had some hidden talent for stealth. Because of course he did.
Face softening upon seeing Coda’s concern, Zayin sighed. "Very well. What do you need me to do?"
"I need you to get an audience with the Man in Red," Coda answered, reaching up to smartly adjust her shades. "I can help you talk your way into it. Once we're inside, I can take a quick look around to make sure our shark-y pal isn't hiding in there. All you need to do... is keep the big man's attention on you. Now, does that sound like a plan?"
Her angelic companion hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "A half-baked one. But I do believe your heart's in the right place."
"That's the spirit!"
Plan in place, Coda sidled up beside the reception desk, flicking her braid over her shoulder as she did. She studied the vase of lilies sitting on the corner of the desk for a moment, even reaching out to tickle at some of the delicate petals with a finger, before finally turning her attention to the receptionist.
She was briefly— very briefly! —distracted by the sight of the oil painting from before, now visible from a different angle. Instead of depicting an idyllic mountainside with all the usual trappings of nature, it now portrayed a twisted, burning hellscape, complete with demonic creatures reveling in the silent screams and piteous weeping of their human victims.
Oh.
Coda gulped, fighting to keep her pleasant demeanor.
Remember your training, Coda, she reminded herself. Remember your training!
"Hi!" she chirped after an unfortunate beat of hesitation, smiling a smile that was usually reserved for the more... difficult contestants, most notably those of the Unruly Witch Boy variety. "My friend here wants an audience with the boss. Do you think you can make that happen?"
The receptionist smiled back, equally as fake. She glanced over Coda's shoulder at the tall, dark and muscular Angel of Challenge, pursing her lips. "That depends. Why is he requesting such a meeting?"
"Oh, you know. The usual," Coda replied breezily. "Self-righteous ranting about the ethical scruples of this whole contest, or lack thereof. I figured the boss might get a good laugh out of it, at the very least. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a lark, every now and again?"
Coda very pointedly did not look back at Zayin as she said this, and thus did not see him staring a pair of very self-righteous holes into the back of her head. Still, she felt his gaze keenly enough, evidenced by the drop of anxious sweat beading upon her forehead.
"Hmm-mmm," the receptionist hummed, tearing her stare away from Zayin. She scrutinized her computer screen, prodding a little at her keyboard with a few sharp clickity-clacks of her nails over the keys. "I suppose I can book you in..."
“Good.” Zayin growled, seemingly fully ready to brawl with whoever was in that office. “When can I go in?”
“Hmm…” the receptionist mumbled as she tip-tapped away at her computer, seemingly more to herself than the pair standing in front of her. “I’m going to give you a number. When we call your number, you can go in.”
“Right…” The angel sighed as the woman printed off a little piece of paper and handed it to him. Taking the scrap, perhaps a little too aggressively, the living weapon stomped over to the couch and plopped himself down, pouting to himself as he glanced at his number. 48.
“What are we?” Coda asked, taking a seat next to him and peeking over at the ticket.
“Number 48.” Zayin responded, looking around the room for any hint of where their number was in the presumed queue. As it happened, though, there was no counter or other indicator of what number they were up to. “Guess we’ll just have to wait.”
The pair sat in silence for some time, waiting tensely for their number to be called. Every moment spent sitting there was another moment more than Nanaue could be doing who-knows-what, and both of them were painfully aware of it.
“How long is this meant to take?” Zayin grunted, finally breaking the silence. There didn’t seem to be any clocks in the room and time seemed to blur together. The angel glanced over at his companion, anxiously twirling his braid around his fingers, noticing that she was doing the same.
“I don’t know.” The Carnivale employee murmured, squirming uncomfortably in her chair. It felt all too much like she was in trouble, waiting to be scolded. “I’ve only ever waited as an employee, I’ve never even seen this ticket system before.”
Realizing that she was just as helpless in this situation as he was, the hero fell silent once more. More time passed, and still their number was not called. In fact, no number was called at all. No one even passed through the reception area.
“This is insanity.” Zayin groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. The angel’s wings drooped dejectedly as he did so, trying and failing to keep his silhouette as the near torture of the constant waiting was beginning to get to him. The waiting room was practically a sensory deprivation chamber, with the receptionist even seeming to stop typing to minimize any chance of stimuli.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the receptionist cleared her throat.
“Fourty-”
Zayin sprung from the couch.
“-seven.”
In disbelief, the living weapon glanced at the receptionist, then at Coda, who wore an equally shocked and exhausted look, and then around the otherwise empty room.
“Hmph, looks like they’re not here.” She snipped to herself before returning to her work.
“If 47 isn’t here, surely 48 can just go through, right?” The hero gasped, practically begging as he approached the front desk. The receptionist simply ignored him, as if she hadn’t heard a thing. Trudging back to his seat like a soldier returning home from war, Zayin slammed himself back down, steepling his fingers and resting his face against them, only his eyes poking out above his hands.
“He’s messing with us, isn’t he?” He hissed to Coda.
“Huh?” She asked, following the angel’s venomous gaze. He was staring right at the fancy door barring them from her boss, as if he could burn through it if he looked hard enough. “Oh, he wouldn’t… he might… yeah he probably is.”
“Well, I won’t play his games.” The hero seethed, getting up to leave. “If he wants to string me arou-“
“48.”
Zayin immediately turned on his heels, storming towards the Man in Red’s office.
“About time.” He thundered, going to throw the door open, only for it to swing wide on its own. Coda was right behind him as it did so, giving the pair of them a perfect view into the room. Just like the room before it, the showrunner’s office was impeccable, fancy and well-kept, with classy wood combined with that iconic shade of red.
And sitting at a desk was the Man himself, grinning at the pair.
“Ah, contestants number 1 and 2, Coda and Zayin.” He said, his voice incredibly calm and even despite the enraged living weapon before him. “What can I do for you?”
“What can you do for me?” The angel spat as he approached the desk, his wings spread wide as his eyes ignited like tiny suns. “You’ve done far too much already.”
“Well, you don’t set up an event like this by doing nothing.” The Man in Red replied calmly, leaning back in his chair a little and steepling his fingers. “But I have a feeling you’re not here to lecture me on logistics.”
As the showrunner and the (reluctant) contestant stared one another down, Coda began to creep around the office, looking desperately for any sign of Nanaue.
“Of course not!” Zayin hissed. “I’m here to have you free me and anyone else who was brought here under duress.”
“You know, you’re not even the first person today to come and try something like this.” The Man in Red said, chuckling at his declaration before leaning forward with a dangerous gleam in his eye, somehow visible beneath his mask. “So, how do you intend to stop me, oh ‘Angel of Challenge’?”
“You know what I am.” The living weapon said quietly, leaning forward as well. “You know what I’m like. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Oh, quite so.” The scarlet showman giggled. “And that’s why I know you’re not going to do anything.”
A silence hung in the air for a long moment, exactly what Coda didn’t need as she was peering behind a portrait and calling fruitlessly for King Shark.
“What do you mean by that?” Zayin asked, his eyes narrowing, the light within shrinking to piercing pinpricks.
“Though the methods used to get you here may have been… unsavoury, my recruiters did not lie to you in their pitch.” The Man in Red said, a slightly smug, triumphant tone leaking into his voice as he conceded the staring match leaning back into his chair. “I thought that angels weren’t meant to have vices, but I know yours, challenger. And I know that it’s a strong one.”
The hero was silent again for a time, visibly calming down as he considered the mastermind’s words. “My… vice?”
“Yes. Even if it’s made for protecting the innocent, the purpose of a sword is to kill.” The showrunner explained, the grin of his mask looking ever more twisted as he grew more and more confident in the fact that he had Zayin under control. “We have recruited plenty of contestants that I’m sure you’d love to kill, and I plan to give you that opportunity.”
As the Man in Red finished, Coda could be heard hissing “-nue!” as she crouched before her boss’ desk, somehow hoping that the shark man would be hidden beneath it. Glancing around at the two, the greeter shot a desperate look at her companion, trying to catch his eye. Instead, she found him trying to avoid the gaze of everyone in the room, covering his mouth as if thinking, though from her angle she could see the corners of his mouth turning up in a reluctant grin.
“Ah, Coda. I had forgotten you were here.” The scarlet showman said, peering over his desk at the girl, his voice sounding like the growl of a predator to the employee despite having the same tone as before. “And what are you doing down there?”
“I was just- uh- tying my shoes.” She gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze as her hands groped for her foot, brushing against… rubber? Finally breaking the stare-off, Coda looked down with a confused look on her face before her jaw dropped, mortified.
“Oh my. Those… crocs are not a part of the dress code.” The showrunner tutted.
“A-Ah, I’m so sorry.” Coda gasped, the blood draining from her face. “I-I changed out of my d-dress shoes in the dojo and must have f-forgotten to change back when the paparazzi were chasing us.”
“I see.” The Man in Red murmured, taking his chin in a hand and stroking it curiously. “Crocs in the dojo?”
“W-Well, it’s because-”
“Why would she wear anything else?” Zayin asked, pulling up the hems of his robes to reveal that he too was wearing the gaudy rubber footwear. “I’m not typically one to wear shoes but these ‘crocs’ are a marvelous creation. They’ve protected my feet faithfully since I lost my ability to fly.”
Coda and the Man in Red both stared at his crocs for a moment until the angel lowered his robes, sensing he had just made some sort of social faux pas. Clearing his throat, the living weapon turned to address the showrunner, but not before Coda could clear her own and gesture to the door.
“Ah, I had better get going. Better get changed back into my proper shoes. Gotta keep up that Carnivale Rosa image, right?” She gasped desperately before speedwalking out the door, not waiting for an answer. The other two watched her go before turning back to one another, the scarlet showman looking at the hero expectantly.
“Alright, I have no intention of letting you go…” Zayin said before his air of confidence faltered. “But… I’m listening.”
“Ah, excellent. I knew you would come around.” The Man in Red said joyfully, clapping his hands together.
They always did.
“Hmm…” the receptionist mumbled as she tip-tapped away at her computer, seemingly more to herself than the pair standing in front of her. “I’m going to give you a number. When we call your number, you can go in.”
“Right…” The angel sighed as the woman printed off a little piece of paper and handed it to him. Taking the scrap, perhaps a little too aggressively, the living weapon stomped over to the couch and plopped himself down, pouting to himself as he glanced at his number. 48.
“What are we?” Coda asked, taking a seat next to him and peeking over at the ticket.
“Number 48.” Zayin responded, looking around the room for any hint of where their number was in the presumed queue. As it happened, though, there was no counter or other indicator of what number they were up to. “Guess we’ll just have to wait.”
The pair sat in silence for some time, waiting tensely for their number to be called. Every moment spent sitting there was another moment more than Nanaue could be doing who-knows-what, and both of them were painfully aware of it.
“How long is this meant to take?” Zayin grunted, finally breaking the silence. There didn’t seem to be any clocks in the room and time seemed to blur together. The angel glanced over at his companion, anxiously twirling his braid around his fingers, noticing that she was doing the same.
“I don’t know.” The Carnivale employee murmured, squirming uncomfortably in her chair. It felt all too much like she was in trouble, waiting to be scolded. “I’ve only ever waited as an employee, I’ve never even seen this ticket system before.”
Realizing that she was just as helpless in this situation as he was, the hero fell silent once more. More time passed, and still their number was not called. In fact, no number was called at all. No one even passed through the reception area.
“This is insanity.” Zayin groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. The angel’s wings drooped dejectedly as he did so, trying and failing to keep his silhouette as the near torture of the constant waiting was beginning to get to him. The waiting room was practically a sensory deprivation chamber, with the receptionist even seeming to stop typing to minimize any chance of stimuli.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the receptionist cleared her throat.
“Fourty-”
Zayin sprung from the couch.
“-seven.”
In disbelief, the living weapon glanced at the receptionist, then at Coda, who wore an equally shocked and exhausted look, and then around the otherwise empty room.
“Hmph, looks like they’re not here.” She snipped to herself before returning to her work.
“If 47 isn’t here, surely 48 can just go through, right?” The hero gasped, practically begging as he approached the front desk. The receptionist simply ignored him, as if she hadn’t heard a thing. Trudging back to his seat like a soldier returning home from war, Zayin slammed himself back down, steepling his fingers and resting his face against them, only his eyes poking out above his hands.
“He’s messing with us, isn’t he?” He hissed to Coda.
“Huh?” She asked, following the angel’s venomous gaze. He was staring right at the fancy door barring them from her boss, as if he could burn through it if he looked hard enough. “Oh, he wouldn’t… he might… yeah he probably is.”
“Well, I won’t play his games.” The hero seethed, getting up to leave. “If he wants to string me arou-“
“48.”
Zayin immediately turned on his heels, storming towards the Man in Red’s office.
“About time.” He thundered, going to throw the door open, only for it to swing wide on its own. Coda was right behind him as it did so, giving the pair of them a perfect view into the room. Just like the room before it, the showrunner’s office was impeccable, fancy and well-kept, with classy wood combined with that iconic shade of red.
And sitting at a desk was the Man himself, grinning at the pair.
“Ah, contestants number 1 and 2, Coda and Zayin.” He said, his voice incredibly calm and even despite the enraged living weapon before him. “What can I do for you?”
“What can you do for me?” The angel spat as he approached the desk, his wings spread wide as his eyes ignited like tiny suns. “You’ve done far too much already.”
“Well, you don’t set up an event like this by doing nothing.” The Man in Red replied calmly, leaning back in his chair a little and steepling his fingers. “But I have a feeling you’re not here to lecture me on logistics.”
As the showrunner and the (reluctant) contestant stared one another down, Coda began to creep around the office, looking desperately for any sign of Nanaue.
“Of course not!” Zayin hissed. “I’m here to have you free me and anyone else who was brought here under duress.”
“You know, you’re not even the first person today to come and try something like this.” The Man in Red said, chuckling at his declaration before leaning forward with a dangerous gleam in his eye, somehow visible beneath his mask. “So, how do you intend to stop me, oh ‘Angel of Challenge’?”
“You know what I am.” The living weapon said quietly, leaning forward as well. “You know what I’m like. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Oh, quite so.” The scarlet showman giggled. “And that’s why I know you’re not going to do anything.”
A silence hung in the air for a long moment, exactly what Coda didn’t need as she was peering behind a portrait and calling fruitlessly for King Shark.
“What do you mean by that?” Zayin asked, his eyes narrowing, the light within shrinking to piercing pinpricks.
“Though the methods used to get you here may have been… unsavoury, my recruiters did not lie to you in their pitch.” The Man in Red said, a slightly smug, triumphant tone leaking into his voice as he conceded the staring match leaning back into his chair. “I thought that angels weren’t meant to have vices, but I know yours, challenger. And I know that it’s a strong one.”
The hero was silent again for a time, visibly calming down as he considered the mastermind’s words. “My… vice?”
“Yes. Even if it’s made for protecting the innocent, the purpose of a sword is to kill.” The showrunner explained, the grin of his mask looking ever more twisted as he grew more and more confident in the fact that he had Zayin under control. “We have recruited plenty of contestants that I’m sure you’d love to kill, and I plan to give you that opportunity.”
As the Man in Red finished, Coda could be heard hissing “-nue!” as she crouched before her boss’ desk, somehow hoping that the shark man would be hidden beneath it. Glancing around at the two, the greeter shot a desperate look at her companion, trying to catch his eye. Instead, she found him trying to avoid the gaze of everyone in the room, covering his mouth as if thinking, though from her angle she could see the corners of his mouth turning up in a reluctant grin.
“Ah, Coda. I had forgotten you were here.” The scarlet showman said, peering over his desk at the girl, his voice sounding like the growl of a predator to the employee despite having the same tone as before. “And what are you doing down there?”
“I was just- uh- tying my shoes.” She gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze as her hands groped for her foot, brushing against… rubber? Finally breaking the stare-off, Coda looked down with a confused look on her face before her jaw dropped, mortified.
“Oh my. Those… crocs are not a part of the dress code.” The showrunner tutted.
“A-Ah, I’m so sorry.” Coda gasped, the blood draining from her face. “I-I changed out of my d-dress shoes in the dojo and must have f-forgotten to change back when the paparazzi were chasing us.”
“I see.” The Man in Red murmured, taking his chin in a hand and stroking it curiously. “Crocs in the dojo?”
“W-Well, it’s because-”
“Why would she wear anything else?” Zayin asked, pulling up the hems of his robes to reveal that he too was wearing the gaudy rubber footwear. “I’m not typically one to wear shoes but these ‘crocs’ are a marvelous creation. They’ve protected my feet faithfully since I lost my ability to fly.”
Coda and the Man in Red both stared at his crocs for a moment until the angel lowered his robes, sensing he had just made some sort of social faux pas. Clearing his throat, the living weapon turned to address the showrunner, but not before Coda could clear her own and gesture to the door.
“Ah, I had better get going. Better get changed back into my proper shoes. Gotta keep up that Carnivale Rosa image, right?” She gasped desperately before speedwalking out the door, not waiting for an answer. The other two watched her go before turning back to one another, the scarlet showman looking at the hero expectantly.
“Alright, I have no intention of letting you go…” Zayin said before his air of confidence faltered. “But… I’m listening.”
“Ah, excellent. I knew you would come around.” The Man in Red said joyfully, clapping his hands together.
They always did.
"Before we proceed....allow me to pose a question to you, my good armament." The Man in Red delicately laced his fingers together, resting his hands on the desk before him. "And make sure you think hard on this one, now."
He paused for an uncomfortably long moment, as if intentionally letting the suspense build in the deafening silence. Zayin, for his part, remained resolute and stubbornly held the masked showman's gaze for a long while.
"Why, exactly...do you think I run this game as such a spectacle?" came the eventual question. "Why all this pomp and circumstance, dressing up such a thoroughly disgusting and mindless blood sport in the delicate veneer of entertainment?"
The bluntness of the question caught the angel of challenge off guard, his head recoiling slightly as if he had nearly been slapped. "Why...?" he repeated, bafflement evident in his tone as he worked to regain his composure. "It...it should be obvious. You find it amusing, every bit as entertaining as the people who watch it."
This brought a strange noise forth from the Man in Red. Something almost like a laugh, but somehow....hollow. Empty, mirthless, cold. Like a deliberate mockery and caricature of what a sound of amusement was supposed to be. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, the eerie feeling growing ever more pronounced.
"No." The response, a single word, came abruptly as an interruption to the awful laugh, shattering the noise and plunging the room back into silence again. The golden eyes behind his mask gleamed like those of a predator in the underbrush, from the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat. "That I enjoy and find amusement in this business is only a happy coincidence. It is not at all the reason that I carry on with it, year after year. There is a much more pertinent reason behind it all."
He unclasped his hands, slowly lifting one to gently slide his hat off, and place it on his desk. Both of his arms spread out wide, sliding over the surface of his desk, as he rose up out of his seat. "This event, this entire thing, my lost little angel...it is a test."
"A test?" Zayin repeated, blinking rapidly. "A test for what?! What is the point of any of this?"
"When you leave this place, after this delightful romp in the mud and blood, I want you to do something for me." The Man in Red's voice dropped any traces of its amusement and smug tone, adopting an icy, deadly serious air. "Study this universe. The current problems afflicting it. Darkseid, and the Unmaking; you've at least heard of it, even since arriving here. I'm well aware of that. But I want you to do more than that. Really look at it. Look into it more deeply, at what it does."
Zayin's expression hardened as he took a step back, regaining his posture and composure fully. "You didn't answer the question."
"Oh, but I am answering," the scarlet showman murmured, slowly bowing his head so that his masked face was shrouded from view. "That you do not understand that answer is no fault of mine."
Zayin's eyes narrowed, as his hands clenched into fists. "Then speak more plainly, and answer straight!" he snapped, his wings flaring out behind him. "What is the point of any of this? Why are you all but forcing people into all but certain death like this?"
"....a test, as I said," the Man in Red said again, his words dripping with ill-suppressed anger. "A bloody, unpleasant test. One intended to be uncomfortable and unpleasant, to force people pressed into it to adapt and overcome. Or die." He lifted his head, the face on his mask suddenly twisted into a nightmarish, frowning grimace somewhere between utter disgust and pure sorrow. "If I can make people face a clearly defined situation they are unprepared for before being dropped into it, and they can adapt and survive...then perhaps there is hope for facing an unknown, undefined threat they are prepared for."
The sudden admission, combined with the awful expression on the masked man's face, caught the angel of challenge wholly off guard, making him take several steps back. "You...don't mean...." He shook his head, trying to wrestle the new information into his head into submission. "....you're trying to say you're doing this for good reasons? To what...help the universe?"
"I am not an altruistic man, my dear lost little angel..." The Man in Red chortled, his tone slowly recovering its strength and amused, mocking tone. "....but I am a very possessive and materialistic one. This universe, now that I am here, is mine. It is my home. The people in it are also mine. They are my crowds, my observers, my audience. I will not let anyone, even some malignant and corruptive cosmic space deity, take them from me."
He slowly lifted a hand up to his mask, shrouding the entire expression of it behind his fingers. "I am, however...merely a man. I am not blessed with the magnificent power and capabilities of someone like Karl Jak. I have to resort to much less...impressive strategies, and far more unsavory methods to do half of what he is capable of. I follow along on the coattails of his events, in blatant mockery of such fantastic events, to cover up my true intentions."
"I wear this mask, and this suit, and hide away in this extravagant facility behind so many layers and barriers and circles of staff and employees....all to make it difficult to pin me down as a singular entity." He threw his free arm out to one side, in a grand sweeping gesture. "The title I go by, that of the head of this merciless entity known as the Carnivale Rosa....it makes me seem equal parts less and more than I am. Impersonal, enigmatic, less approachable. It merely makes me 'the one responsible for organizing the madness'. The one who pulls strings to make things happen...but not the one directly responsible. It provides a layer of safety to allow me more freedom."
".....you're a madman," Zayin finally said, shaking his head. "I don't even know how much of what you've just said is true and how much is an outright, blatant lie. I don't know if any of it was true."
The Man in Red merely laughed. It wasn't hollow and empty as it was before, either; it was a dark, eerie, almost inhuman sound. The kind that didn't stem from joy or amusement, or from any positive emotion at all. It was bone-chilling and seemed to echo unnaturally in the office.
Zayin, for himself, took a step back. "Enough of this... If you won't take this seriously, then we're done here!" he growled. "If I have to go through this farce of a contest to get out of here, then so be it." And he turned on one heel, storming out of the doors.
As the closed behind him, a tingling feeling shot up his spine, the same feeling of some horrible predator looming directly behind him, making the angel of challenge whirl about reflexively, reaching for swords that weren't there.
The Man in Red was still sat at his desk, however. Arms folded atop it, sitting upright and relaxed as if nothing had ever happened. His mask was back to its usual smiling façade. But his eyes...they gleamed like those of a snake, flashing with deadly intent. "You should never take anything at face value, Zayin" he murmured, as the doors began to slowly swing shut seemingly of their own volition. "There is always some truth hidden in every lie, and always some lie hidden in every truth. Pray you are wise enough to tell that when the time comes.
A soft click, followed by a shuddering boom as the doors shut left Zayin dumbfounded in the waiting room. As he turned around to leave, however...he found only another mostly empty, featureless office with a dumbfounded Coda standing confused in the doorway staring back at him.
"What...happened? I thought I heard..." and she trailed off.
"....I have no idea," Zayin answered, shaking his head. "I...think I'm even more lost now..."
He paused for an uncomfortably long moment, as if intentionally letting the suspense build in the deafening silence. Zayin, for his part, remained resolute and stubbornly held the masked showman's gaze for a long while.
"Why, exactly...do you think I run this game as such a spectacle?" came the eventual question. "Why all this pomp and circumstance, dressing up such a thoroughly disgusting and mindless blood sport in the delicate veneer of entertainment?"
The bluntness of the question caught the angel of challenge off guard, his head recoiling slightly as if he had nearly been slapped. "Why...?" he repeated, bafflement evident in his tone as he worked to regain his composure. "It...it should be obvious. You find it amusing, every bit as entertaining as the people who watch it."
This brought a strange noise forth from the Man in Red. Something almost like a laugh, but somehow....hollow. Empty, mirthless, cold. Like a deliberate mockery and caricature of what a sound of amusement was supposed to be. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, the eerie feeling growing ever more pronounced.
"No." The response, a single word, came abruptly as an interruption to the awful laugh, shattering the noise and plunging the room back into silence again. The golden eyes behind his mask gleamed like those of a predator in the underbrush, from the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat. "That I enjoy and find amusement in this business is only a happy coincidence. It is not at all the reason that I carry on with it, year after year. There is a much more pertinent reason behind it all."
He unclasped his hands, slowly lifting one to gently slide his hat off, and place it on his desk. Both of his arms spread out wide, sliding over the surface of his desk, as he rose up out of his seat. "This event, this entire thing, my lost little angel...it is a test."
"A test?" Zayin repeated, blinking rapidly. "A test for what?! What is the point of any of this?"
"When you leave this place, after this delightful romp in the mud and blood, I want you to do something for me." The Man in Red's voice dropped any traces of its amusement and smug tone, adopting an icy, deadly serious air. "Study this universe. The current problems afflicting it. Darkseid, and the Unmaking; you've at least heard of it, even since arriving here. I'm well aware of that. But I want you to do more than that. Really look at it. Look into it more deeply, at what it does."
Zayin's expression hardened as he took a step back, regaining his posture and composure fully. "You didn't answer the question."
"Oh, but I am answering," the scarlet showman murmured, slowly bowing his head so that his masked face was shrouded from view. "That you do not understand that answer is no fault of mine."
Zayin's eyes narrowed, as his hands clenched into fists. "Then speak more plainly, and answer straight!" he snapped, his wings flaring out behind him. "What is the point of any of this? Why are you all but forcing people into all but certain death like this?"
"....a test, as I said," the Man in Red said again, his words dripping with ill-suppressed anger. "A bloody, unpleasant test. One intended to be uncomfortable and unpleasant, to force people pressed into it to adapt and overcome. Or die." He lifted his head, the face on his mask suddenly twisted into a nightmarish, frowning grimace somewhere between utter disgust and pure sorrow. "If I can make people face a clearly defined situation they are unprepared for before being dropped into it, and they can adapt and survive...then perhaps there is hope for facing an unknown, undefined threat they are prepared for."
The sudden admission, combined with the awful expression on the masked man's face, caught the angel of challenge wholly off guard, making him take several steps back. "You...don't mean...." He shook his head, trying to wrestle the new information into his head into submission. "....you're trying to say you're doing this for good reasons? To what...help the universe?"
"I am not an altruistic man, my dear lost little angel..." The Man in Red chortled, his tone slowly recovering its strength and amused, mocking tone. "....but I am a very possessive and materialistic one. This universe, now that I am here, is mine. It is my home. The people in it are also mine. They are my crowds, my observers, my audience. I will not let anyone, even some malignant and corruptive cosmic space deity, take them from me."
He slowly lifted a hand up to his mask, shrouding the entire expression of it behind his fingers. "I am, however...merely a man. I am not blessed with the magnificent power and capabilities of someone like Karl Jak. I have to resort to much less...impressive strategies, and far more unsavory methods to do half of what he is capable of. I follow along on the coattails of his events, in blatant mockery of such fantastic events, to cover up my true intentions."
"I wear this mask, and this suit, and hide away in this extravagant facility behind so many layers and barriers and circles of staff and employees....all to make it difficult to pin me down as a singular entity." He threw his free arm out to one side, in a grand sweeping gesture. "The title I go by, that of the head of this merciless entity known as the Carnivale Rosa....it makes me seem equal parts less and more than I am. Impersonal, enigmatic, less approachable. It merely makes me 'the one responsible for organizing the madness'. The one who pulls strings to make things happen...but not the one directly responsible. It provides a layer of safety to allow me more freedom."
".....you're a madman," Zayin finally said, shaking his head. "I don't even know how much of what you've just said is true and how much is an outright, blatant lie. I don't know if any of it was true."
The Man in Red merely laughed. It wasn't hollow and empty as it was before, either; it was a dark, eerie, almost inhuman sound. The kind that didn't stem from joy or amusement, or from any positive emotion at all. It was bone-chilling and seemed to echo unnaturally in the office.
Zayin, for himself, took a step back. "Enough of this... If you won't take this seriously, then we're done here!" he growled. "If I have to go through this farce of a contest to get out of here, then so be it." And he turned on one heel, storming out of the doors.
As the closed behind him, a tingling feeling shot up his spine, the same feeling of some horrible predator looming directly behind him, making the angel of challenge whirl about reflexively, reaching for swords that weren't there.
The Man in Red was still sat at his desk, however. Arms folded atop it, sitting upright and relaxed as if nothing had ever happened. His mask was back to its usual smiling façade. But his eyes...they gleamed like those of a snake, flashing with deadly intent. "You should never take anything at face value, Zayin" he murmured, as the doors began to slowly swing shut seemingly of their own volition. "There is always some truth hidden in every lie, and always some lie hidden in every truth. Pray you are wise enough to tell that when the time comes.
A soft click, followed by a shuddering boom as the doors shut left Zayin dumbfounded in the waiting room. As he turned around to leave, however...he found only another mostly empty, featureless office with a dumbfounded Coda standing confused in the doorway staring back at him.
"What...happened? I thought I heard..." and she trailed off.
"....I have no idea," Zayin answered, shaking his head. "I...think I'm even more lost now..."
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It was with palpable relief that Coda closed the door to the Man in Red’s office behind her. She let out a gush of air and slumped against the door, taking a moment to gather herself before she refocused on finding Nanaue. She didn’t even care when the receptionist gave her an ugly look, or when that same receptionist gave a friendly wave to an enormous shark man who was exiting the lobby with a briefcase in hand-
“Nanaue!” Coda exclaimed, standing bolt upright.
She dashed across the lobby (drawing another scowl from the irritable receptionist), but Nanaue had already stepped around the corner into the next hallway. Blonde hair flying behind her, Coda slid around the corner just in time to spot an enormous fin disappearing into a doorway. The door shut behind it.
“What in blue blazes is he-” Coda crossed the floor in five quick stomps, wrenching the door open. “DO…ing?”
Hand on the doorknob, she stood there staring. Nanaue met her eyes while he hunched over a desk, phone receiver in hand, saying something indiscernible into the mouthpiece.
“Nanaue!” Coda fumed, slamming the door then leveling a finger at him. “You. Do not. WORK HERE!” and she punctuated each word with a jab of her finger.
Nanaue set down the receiver slowly, turning his big body fully with two crab-steps. He reached out a big hand and offered her an oversized, brown leather briefcase. The case bulged at the seams like an overstuffed teddy bear, and some of the objects she noticed sticking out hither and thither were: a rumpled sock, an important looking document with a bite out of it, and a lanyard with a Carnivale Rosa ID badge in its protector.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded, snatching the briefcase from his enormous hand. “What is all of this stuff? Did you steal all of this? Did you - oh. Oh, no, Nanaue…did you eat somebody and take all of this?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. There was no blood visible around his mouth or splashed about on his chest or anything, but what did that mean? Coda had never actually seen him eat somebody, and with a mouth that big wasn’t it possible that he could just kind of…jam them right in there, garbage disposal style, leaving nothing behind? An involuntary shiver ran down her spine and she set down the briefcase quickly. In fact, she sat down herself, right on the floor, and began to rub her temples.
Nanaue sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, big dopey mouth hanging in that half-grin style he had, looking at his shades-wearing buddy for approval.
“Good day of work,” he rumbled conversationally, reaching for the briefcase.
“Probably don’t…uh…probably don’t carry that around anymore, Nanaue,” Coda instructed him in that wrung-out tone a person gets when they’ve reached peak stress, surpassed it, and then they don’t have any emotional energy left to dump into their exasperation. “Man, I hope I don’t lose my job over this. Whatever this is.”
She gestured vaguely at Nanaue and his briefcase while he nodded his agreement.
“Job.”
“Yeah, job. Wonder how Zayin’s doing back in the office. Should we just wait for him, do you think? That lobby’s a drag.”
King Shark had stopped paying attention, though. Coda noticed that he’d managed to get back his briefcase without her noticing and was fidgeting with the clasps in his lap, briefcase resting against his jean shorts. She blinked.
“Yeah, let’s just go back to the lobby and wait for Zayin. You can leave that briefcase in here. There’s a big fish tank in the lobby I think you’ll like a lot,” she stood up, offering Nanaue a hand as if she was going to help him to his feet before she thought better of it. “...probably don’t need my help to stand.”
A thoughtful look crept across the part of her face uncovered by sunglasses, a look that spoke of preponderances on the social conventions between people and other people, and where the line fell on those same social norms when applied to a shark man. It wasn’t something she’d considered before, but in the moment it seemed of vital importance, like it was something she really should’ve invested some thought into before all of this.
Nanaue had opened the door already, because time waits for no man whether or not he’s half shark, and had stepped out into the hallway. Knowing now that he was able to disappear in the blink of an eye, somehow, Coda shifted into motion and stayed hot on his heels.
They stepped into the ultra-luxe lobby where the receptionist gave Nanaue a warm smile, and Coda a stiff look down the nose before turning back to her paperwork. Coda’s own nose wrinkled in disgust - probably wasn’t even any real work on those papers, anyway.
“Come on, Nanaue,” she murmured grumpily, gripping one of Nanaue’s plump fingers with her whole hand and tugging him along. “The fish tank’s right over here.”
He pressed his enormous shark nose against the glass, which fogged as he breathed on it, begging the question of how exactly his gills worked and what purpose they might serve - maybe some kind of dual breathing system depending on whether he was in the water or up on land? He drummed his enormous fingers against the glass of the tank with such dense thuds that Coda was concerned he might crack the glass. If the fish were concerned, though, they didn’t show it.
Instead they swarmed the water in front of Nanaue’s enormous face as if drawn by some otherworldly force. He slid his face to the left, and the school of fish slid left with him. To the right, and they moved to the right.
His mouth yawned open further, wide and full of a wonderment that contrasted strangely with the rows of jagged ivory threatening death from his slaughterhouse gumline. It was the corners of his mouth, Coda realized, and his eyes. That’s where she saw kindness. At first glance the eyes looked blank, but when you looked a little further into them, you had to wonder how you could’ve missed what was inside of them to begin with.
“Fish,” announced Nanaue, turning his head and shoulders at Coda and pointing at them.
“Yeah,” and she had to smile back at him. “They sure are.”
The door to the Man in Red’s office swung open, seizing the Rosa employee’s attention, and doing nothing to divert Nanaue’s. While he remained pressed up against the glass, Coda moved purposefully towards the doorway and stood in wait.
When Nanaue turned to look for her at his side, she was gone.
“Huh?” he asked himself out loud, scratching his chin.
He twisted his body to the right, then to the left, and finally spotted her - the door to the office had closed, leaving Coda standing in front of Zayin. They both looked very serious, which spurred Nanaue into motion. He departed the fish tank and made his way over to his friends.
“Bird,” the shark-man said to Zayin, by way of greeting. “Big job day.”
Coda shook her head when the dark haired angel looked to her for an explanation.
“Don’t ask,” she muttered.
“Nanaue!” Coda exclaimed, standing bolt upright.
She dashed across the lobby (drawing another scowl from the irritable receptionist), but Nanaue had already stepped around the corner into the next hallway. Blonde hair flying behind her, Coda slid around the corner just in time to spot an enormous fin disappearing into a doorway. The door shut behind it.
“What in blue blazes is he-” Coda crossed the floor in five quick stomps, wrenching the door open. “DO…ing?”
Hand on the doorknob, she stood there staring. Nanaue met her eyes while he hunched over a desk, phone receiver in hand, saying something indiscernible into the mouthpiece.
“Nanaue!” Coda fumed, slamming the door then leveling a finger at him. “You. Do not. WORK HERE!” and she punctuated each word with a jab of her finger.
Nanaue set down the receiver slowly, turning his big body fully with two crab-steps. He reached out a big hand and offered her an oversized, brown leather briefcase. The case bulged at the seams like an overstuffed teddy bear, and some of the objects she noticed sticking out hither and thither were: a rumpled sock, an important looking document with a bite out of it, and a lanyard with a Carnivale Rosa ID badge in its protector.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded, snatching the briefcase from his enormous hand. “What is all of this stuff? Did you steal all of this? Did you - oh. Oh, no, Nanaue…did you eat somebody and take all of this?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. There was no blood visible around his mouth or splashed about on his chest or anything, but what did that mean? Coda had never actually seen him eat somebody, and with a mouth that big wasn’t it possible that he could just kind of…jam them right in there, garbage disposal style, leaving nothing behind? An involuntary shiver ran down her spine and she set down the briefcase quickly. In fact, she sat down herself, right on the floor, and began to rub her temples.
Nanaue sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, big dopey mouth hanging in that half-grin style he had, looking at his shades-wearing buddy for approval.
“Good day of work,” he rumbled conversationally, reaching for the briefcase.
“Probably don’t…uh…probably don’t carry that around anymore, Nanaue,” Coda instructed him in that wrung-out tone a person gets when they’ve reached peak stress, surpassed it, and then they don’t have any emotional energy left to dump into their exasperation. “Man, I hope I don’t lose my job over this. Whatever this is.”
She gestured vaguely at Nanaue and his briefcase while he nodded his agreement.
“Job.”
“Yeah, job. Wonder how Zayin’s doing back in the office. Should we just wait for him, do you think? That lobby’s a drag.”
King Shark had stopped paying attention, though. Coda noticed that he’d managed to get back his briefcase without her noticing and was fidgeting with the clasps in his lap, briefcase resting against his jean shorts. She blinked.
“Yeah, let’s just go back to the lobby and wait for Zayin. You can leave that briefcase in here. There’s a big fish tank in the lobby I think you’ll like a lot,” she stood up, offering Nanaue a hand as if she was going to help him to his feet before she thought better of it. “...probably don’t need my help to stand.”
A thoughtful look crept across the part of her face uncovered by sunglasses, a look that spoke of preponderances on the social conventions between people and other people, and where the line fell on those same social norms when applied to a shark man. It wasn’t something she’d considered before, but in the moment it seemed of vital importance, like it was something she really should’ve invested some thought into before all of this.
Nanaue had opened the door already, because time waits for no man whether or not he’s half shark, and had stepped out into the hallway. Knowing now that he was able to disappear in the blink of an eye, somehow, Coda shifted into motion and stayed hot on his heels.
They stepped into the ultra-luxe lobby where the receptionist gave Nanaue a warm smile, and Coda a stiff look down the nose before turning back to her paperwork. Coda’s own nose wrinkled in disgust - probably wasn’t even any real work on those papers, anyway.
“Come on, Nanaue,” she murmured grumpily, gripping one of Nanaue’s plump fingers with her whole hand and tugging him along. “The fish tank’s right over here.”
He pressed his enormous shark nose against the glass, which fogged as he breathed on it, begging the question of how exactly his gills worked and what purpose they might serve - maybe some kind of dual breathing system depending on whether he was in the water or up on land? He drummed his enormous fingers against the glass of the tank with such dense thuds that Coda was concerned he might crack the glass. If the fish were concerned, though, they didn’t show it.
Instead they swarmed the water in front of Nanaue’s enormous face as if drawn by some otherworldly force. He slid his face to the left, and the school of fish slid left with him. To the right, and they moved to the right.
His mouth yawned open further, wide and full of a wonderment that contrasted strangely with the rows of jagged ivory threatening death from his slaughterhouse gumline. It was the corners of his mouth, Coda realized, and his eyes. That’s where she saw kindness. At first glance the eyes looked blank, but when you looked a little further into them, you had to wonder how you could’ve missed what was inside of them to begin with.
“Fish,” announced Nanaue, turning his head and shoulders at Coda and pointing at them.
“Yeah,” and she had to smile back at him. “They sure are.”
The door to the Man in Red’s office swung open, seizing the Rosa employee’s attention, and doing nothing to divert Nanaue’s. While he remained pressed up against the glass, Coda moved purposefully towards the doorway and stood in wait.
When Nanaue turned to look for her at his side, she was gone.
“Huh?” he asked himself out loud, scratching his chin.
He twisted his body to the right, then to the left, and finally spotted her - the door to the office had closed, leaving Coda standing in front of Zayin. They both looked very serious, which spurred Nanaue into motion. He departed the fish tank and made his way over to his friends.
“Bird,” the shark-man said to Zayin, by way of greeting. “Big job day.”
Coda shook her head when the dark haired angel looked to her for an explanation.
“Don’t ask,” she muttered.
- Status