DGS3 -- Staging: The Library

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The Man in Red

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Situated on the higher floors is a vast library. It seems to sprawl and stretch on into a far larger expanse than could reasonably fit in a building whose first floor was only as large as the entrance hall. It rises through several floors, and houses a vast assortment of books, newspapers, comics, audio recordings and even videos from numerous different points in history, and from several worlds and realities. The entire thing is laid out in a vary comfortable, pleasant manner and lit by lantern and candles, with many a fireplace situated around. There are always staff lurking and wandering among the shelves to ensure nothing gets...out of hand, as well as to assist anyone who wants to find something in particular.
 

Arthur Morgan

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The duo found themselves strolling down one of the facility's many hallways, its pristine marble floors gleaming an almost blinding white under the artificial lighting. Each step elicited a resounding echo in the space, the sound bouncing off the walls and making the hallways seem almost never-ending, only the occasional Carnivale employee passing them by.

Naturally, Coda strode ahead, pointing out various points of interest as they went along. Adopting the role of tour guide, she gestured to the many museum-esque items of decor that the event's host had evidently deemed worthy of furnishing the corridor, eagerly rattling off information about every new object, artwork or antiquity they walked past.

Her angelic companion trailed behind her, offering the occasional nod or shrug in response to her commentary; it was obvious that Coda had trained to give such a thorough tour, so he didn't relish interrupting her by speaking up. Instead, his golden eyes darted from one ostentatious decoration to the next, expression fixed in a polite mask of indifference for many of the, apparently, priceless items.

Funnily enough, it was only once Coda mentioned weaponry that Zayin seemed to get really interested, though he looked quite disappointed when he couldn't simply pluck a pair of antique swords from their place mounted on the wall. That had taken a bit of convincing on Coda’s part, but she’d managed to dissuade him well enough with promises of checking out the Prep Level’s training facilities later.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. A grand set of double doors hulked wide and tall before them, the deep crimson hue of their rosewood finish decorated all over with ornate carvings that stretched from the top of the door frame all the way down to the solid brass handles. Walking up to the entrance to the library, the silence was almost palpable; no sound could be heard emanating from within, which seemed about typical for such a place.

Coda's excitement could hardly be contained as she bounded forward– so many memories dancing in her head from the first time she’d visited this place that she felt about as giddy as a schoolgirl. This was no ordinary library, after all; it was an incredible vault of wisdom, with gathered knowledge from all across the Crossroads. The sheer possibilities it presented for research alone nearly sent her into orbit!

Taking a deep breath, she beamed at Zayin and swung open the doors with a dramatic flourish, the effect only somewhat hindered by the low, ominous groaning of the massive door's hinges.

Upon stepping inside, it was immediately apparent that the library was a physics-defying marvel of architecture, easily rising up several floors despite occupying a relatively small facility. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed to overflowing with thick tomes of knowledge and yellowing scrolls, the light from a multitude of candles dancing in waves of warm luminescence upon the shelves. Interspersed amongst the shelves were branching pathways, the faintest glimpses of even more books visible in the spaces between them, continuing on into what seemed to be an uncertain infinity.

Straight ahead, a grand staircase curved upwards to the second story balcony, where several tables were piled high with books and manuscripts. A roaring fireplace could be glimpsed just beside it, casting a pleasant orange-yellow glow over the walls, its smoky, heady woodfire scent filtering all throughout the room in a pleasing haze.

The musty scent of ancient books and parchment hit Zayin, sending a zing of excitement throughout his body. There was something special and arcane about this place; something that made him want to explore and discover every nook and cranny, uncover its deepest and darkest secrets. This was no ordinary library, clearly, but rather a vast chamber of hand-picked scholarship… the impossible dimensions of the space only made exploration seem all the more tantalizing of an idea.

With an air of purpose, Coda strode confidently towards a nearby shelf labelled "Crossroads Bestsellers.” Zayin watched, intrigued, as she hovered her fingers over the assortment of books for a moment, mumbling incoherently under her breath— before decisively selecting two volumes in particular.

She whipped around to face him, brandishing the books. "Ta-da! These two self-help books were, like, my saviors when I first came to the Crossroads. Let's just say they were practically a godsend for me," she grinned playfully, holding them up for his inspection. "Maybe you'll get the same amount of use out of them!"

Absorbing some of Coda's infectious excitement, Zayin eagerly grasped the books and inspected the covers with enthusiasm, even angling them in his hands to read along the spines. His brows shot up in surprise upon seeing the titles, however, lips pursing in confusion as his gaze travelled over the covers.

Bright, poppy bubble letters practically screamed the book titles into his face, a nonsensical assortment of iconography decorating their sleeves. Still, the books in question, What the F@!% is an Arbiter?! and So You’ve Been Transported to Another Dimension, did indeed appear to have received rave reviews, judging by the many quotes flaunted on the inside cover...

"What the F@!% is an Arbiter?! is a must-read for anyone entering the Crossroads. It was incredibly helpful in acclimating me to life here, and I'm sure it will be just as useful to others." -The Arcadian Times

"So You've Been Transported to Another Dimension is a fascinating and funny step-by-step guide on how to make the most of what is oftentimes a mysterious and scary new experience for many. Highly recommend, it makes universe-hopping seem like a walk in the park!" -Galaxy's Haven

"So You've Been Transported to Another Dimension is an amazing resource for travellers of the Crossroads. Packed with anecdotes, advice, and plenty of outlandish adventures, it will make a great companion in navigating the worlds!" -City of Hope Magazine

Glancing up, Zayin noticed that Coda was observing him with an expectant look on her face, not unlike a faithful pup awaiting a doggy biscuit after performing a trick.

"Ah," the angel hastened to say, unsure of how to respond. "Yes. I am sure these will be... very helpful?"

Coda's face lit up with unmistakable joy. "I'm so glad you feel that way! I thought these would be just perfect for you," she exclaimed, a sense of pride in her voice. She gestured around them, flapping a hand towards the other shelves and aisles. "And there are plenty more where that came from! We have books here that can teach you all about the Crossroads, its inhabitants, its customs, and anything else you're curious about."

Just as Zayin was about to respond, another Carnivale attendant appeared in the corner of his eye and shushed them. Coda muttered a quick apology, grinning sheepishly, before turning back around to face him.

"Anyway," she whispered, lowering her voice to a much more acceptable volume. "How about we go take a look at some stuff about the Unmaking, huh? I'm sure there's some video footage around here, somewhere!”
 

Sandor Clegane

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There are mass murderers out there. There are many more of them, in fact, than most people realize. Out of all of these mass murderers a shockingly low number are captured and brought to justice. Now, the public might feel as if the percentage is higher than it actually is. That the authorities are out there bagging, tagging, and fragging the bad guys, and that inevitably justice prevails. That’s an easy assumption to make, too, because the papers hyper-fixate on a story. Little girl goes missing, little girl is found, six weeks elapse or six months do, and then the suits find their guy. Trial ensues, the evidence tells the story, and one more mass murderer goes to the chopping block - tale as old as time. What they don’t focus on is the way that five sick-minded freaks go free for every one they siphon through the system.

Rarer still is the mass manslaughterer. In the instance of a trial most defenses will go to bat for a claim of manslaughter, and why wouldn’t they? It’s a lesser penalty, and it paints their client in a different light. Murder has malice. Murder has forethought, intention, and evil behind it. Manslaughter is an accident, something someone could stumble into ass-backwards by clipping a pedestrian with their car on a Sunday drive with their loved ones. Manslaughter is defined by an absence of malice and premeditation.

In that way King Shark was not a mass murderer. Sure, some might argue that he was, because it was easy to look at a big man-eater with a triple digit body count as an evil thing. A man with a triple digit body count is heinous, after all.

A shark with a triple digit body count, though? Well, that’s only natural, isn’t it?

When a killer stalks a victim, nabs ‘em, stashes ‘em in a basement, and little Jimmy’s mother doesn’t come home, well, that’s a crime.

When Nanaue grabs a bite to eat because a hapless mother passed by the wrong alley, groceries and all, and little Jimmy’s mother doesn’t come home…isn’t that different?

At any rate, Nanaue didn’t let it keep him up at night.

In the back of the library there resided several televisions: big, flatscreen affairs with OLED screens and all the fixings. While a television might seem counter-intuitive towards a library environment, these televisions had an out. Several sets of over-the-ear headphones - the fancy kind with all the trappings of luxury - sat beneath the televisions on wall-mounts.

The televisions themselves which lined the walls like so many ducks in a row each played a different scene, and each scene came from Death Game competitions past. Murderers and manslaughterers of days gone by, immortalized in widescreen resolution, struggled against one another in eternity for the enjoyment of others, or for the education of competitors to come.

There weren’t many spectators, though. Only one. The theater style seats were all empty except for just the single one which groaned in protest each time the enormity of a shark-man who’d found it suitable as a seat moved or shifted.

He watched unblinkingly, mouth hanging open, chest rising and falling gently. His glass-marble eyes were transfixed, locked in an eternal dance with the television. He wore no headphones, for they were beyond him, but he didn't really need sound anyway. Just the moving images were enough, really, because Nanaue really liked moving images. If one could set aside his appearance, and the natural fear an abomination like he tended to inspire, they might get close enough to see that the corners of his gaping maw turned upward. In fact, if someone were to look past the rows of sharp teeth, and the endless abyss of dark eyes, they might find an expression of joy. Raw, unfiltered joy.

“Suit man,” he announced to himself, pointing. “Not very smart.”

He followed the figure on the screen - some suave looking man a bit too skinny to look appetizing - with a large grey finger. It dangled there in the air - the finger, not the man - following the figure as it shifted in accordance to the panning of the camera. Nanaue watched.

He also listened, though the television was silent, and as he did so he heard…something. His lower jaw bobbed, his head swiveled, and with it his shoulders turned. Physically, that was the only way his head really could swivel, and when it did a significant amount of his torso did, too. The lounger didn’t agree with that position, though, and Nanaue nearly toppled the thing trying to get a peak over the back of it.

No doubt about it, though. Those were voices coming from the shelves. They weren’t loud, but they were there, and Nanaue found a meandering curiosity creeping through his brain. Voices always meant something. Sometimes they meant num nums, and sometimes they meant spectacle, and every once in a great while they even meant a conversation. Not often, but…it had happened a time or two.

He lurched out of the chair, though the effort to pry his bulk from its arms was considerable, and the chair tried to follow his aft end up as he stood; when he’d finally wrenched free, though, he made his way around and shuffled away quietly. Well, he thought it was quiet, anyway. A seven foot monster of man and shark could only manage so much subtlety, even at the best of times and in the best of circumstances, and a near silent library was not specifically the best of circumstances for that kind of sneaking.

He followed the hushed voice the way one might follow an aroma, letting it wrap around him and guide him, awkwardly shuffling ever onward. He shuffled past tables, and he shuffled past shelves, until he heard an abrupt ‘shush’ and found the sense to stop.

“Stealth,” he reminded himself in a deep low rumble. “Be stealth.”

A large sharky nose and small sharky eyes poked around the side of a bookshelf. His beady little eyes bore forward, and locked on two strangers. He looked at them. They looked at him.

Then King Shark groaned, slapped a hand to his head, and clenched his jaw.

“DAMN!” he cursed himself, loudly and thickly. “Not good stealth.”

He stepped out from around the shelf, so wide that he could not enter the gap between one bookshelf and another if he had wanted to, and stood there. He stared, but he didn’t say anything. His mouth hung open, a yawning chasm of pink and ivory that sunk back into his throat and onward.

And he watched. Very awkwardly.

Then, after awhile, he said: “...chum?”

Now, Nanaue knew the word chum, but he only knew one definition, and there was in fact more than one definition out there. One type of chum, of course, is the sort one might head on down to the pub with to pal around. The other type of chum…well, that’s the type a fisherman might toss overboard, and that a fellow like Nanaue might take in as an afternoon snack. Though he could never tell that’s what they were doing, Nanaue had watched more than a handful of folks try and puzzle out which definition he might be familiar with.

It was fun for him to watch. …he loved to watch things.
 

Zayin

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Zayin blinked at Coda, giving her a blank look at her invitation to go learn about the Unmaking.

“Video… footage..?” He murmured, careful to keep his voice low while tilting his head to the side. “I can’t say those words mean much of anything to me, sorry.”

“Oh… right.” The Carnivale employee nodded while leading the angel through the library. “It’s like… a moving image with sound, more or less.”

“Huh. Interesting.” The hero said, perking up at the description. Truth be told, while the library was certainly an impressive thing, Zayin wasn’t the biggest reader. He could enjoy a book, certainly, but the idea of reading about the Unmaking was much less enticing than this ‘video’ his new friend spoke of. “I like the sound of that.”

Grinning with a sense of self-satisfaction at another accurate recommendation, Coda turned the angel over to a secluded area where some computers had been set up for the access of audio and video recordings, only to pause abruptly as the pair heard a clumsy thumping behind them followed by a deep voice cursing its own lack of stealth. Turning, the two could hardly believe what they saw. A shark head was poking around the shelf at them.

“...chum?”

Zayin had been staring dumbly at the display, almost unable to comprehend what he had been looking at, until the… thing stepped out from around the corner, dwarfing the pair, both in height and breadth. Angelic instincts kicking in, the living weapon stepped in between the stranger and Coda, though realistically he had come to learn she probably didn’t need his protection.

“By the light of the expanse… What is that?” He hissed quietly at her, trying not to make any sudden movements or sounds that would alert the shark creature.

“I- I don’t know!” The Carnivale employee whispered back, gladly placing her new companion between herself and the strange being as she quickly switched on her tablet and flicked frantically between contestant profiles. “Just keep an eye on it.”

“I- Of course.” Zayin agreed. As far as he could tell, that was an order that could conceivably involve protecting a mortal. Which meant he was honorbound to keep the landshark busy. As he opened his mouth to greet the stranger, however, he found himself rather speechless. “Hi there… big... guy...?”

The shark simply stared at him blankly, though to be honest the angel wasn’t sure if he could identify a shark’s expression if it was making one, its mouth hanging agape. After a few moments of silence, the creature raised its hand, pointing at the hero. He couldn’t help but tense, wondering what it's intentions were. Was it singling him out? Was it challenging him? In spite of himself, the living weapon’s instincts began to kick in, his wings flaring and stretching as a little grin formed on his face and quickly began to grow. Well, if it was a fight it wante-

“Wings.” It said simply, catching Zayin completely off guard. “Bird.”

Utterly disarmed by that response, his jaw dropped a little and his wings dropped, visibly dulling and hanging low behind his back.

“Ok, I’ve got it.” Coda murmured victoriously. “His name is Nanaue, aka King Shark. Big, dumb, and dangerous, but not malicious. Kind of like-“

“A shark?” The angel asked, raising an eyebrow and looking back at her, receiving a quick nod. “How did you find that out?”

“Oh, it's all on here.” She replied, flashing him a look at the screen of her tablet. Sure enough, there was a page of information about the shark man, as well as a moving image that he presumed to be one of those ‘videos’ Coda mentioned.

“Right…” The hero replied, his eyes narrowing a little. “And your possession of this information, would it happen to be related to-“

“Hey, come on.” The Carnivale Employee snipped, knowing full well where this was going. “I’m no cheater. This information is public to all contestants.”

“I see.” Zayin sighed before turning back to Nanaue. As Coda had said, he certainly didn’t seem particularly wicked. It was hard to imagine a malevolent scheme cooking up between those dull, unfocused eyes. But, that said, the thing was still part shark. It was a predator, and worse, it’s human(?) part meant it was unpredictable. He had no way of knowing how much of its psyche was that of a person and how much was that of a wild animal. Whatever. If it attacked, he could deal with it when he had to.

“Hello there… Nanaue?” The angel hazarded an attempt at communication. It had proven its ability to speak, at the very least. In response, King Shark’s eyes and mouth widened ever so slightly.

“Oh… know name!” The sharkman said, impressed(?) by hearing his name without having to tell it to the pair.

“That’s right.” Zayin nodded, glancing over at Coda. She was no longer standing behind him, but wasn’t jumping at the chance to approach the shark either. “My name is Zayin.”

“I’m Coda.” His companion followed up.

“What brings you here, Nanaue?” The angel asked. In response, he got a blank stare from King Shark. Did… did he know what he was doing there himself? The swordsman was quite tempted to simply exit through the other end of the bookshelves, but part of him was nagging the rest that he probably shouldn’t leave the creature to its own devices. “Would… would you like to look at some moving pictures with us?”

Nanaue revealed several rows of razor-sharp teeth at the invitation, something that Zayin momentarily tensed up at the sight of before he realized that the sharkman was simply grinning, not giving some sort of threat display. The human and the angel glanced at each other for a moment, Coda giving him a slight ‘wtf’ look, before they began to approach King Shark, trying to squeeze between him and the bookshelves. After a brief struggle, the pair were free and the now-trio made their way over to the small PC area.

“What the hell was that?” The girl whispered to her new acquaintance, trying not to let Nanaue overhear, though he probably wouldn’t have done much if he did.

“I don’t know… I wanted to keep an eye on him.” Zayin shrugged. “I suppose I felt a little pity for him too.”

“You really are an emotional type, huh?”

“What can I say, I’m a right sword- uh, right brain thinker.”

Coda gave him a weird look but said no more as they arrived at the computers. Taking the initiative over her tech-illiterate companions, she took the chair of one of the PCs while the other two hovered behind her, watching over her shoulders.

“Well, let’s see.” The girl muttered quietly to herself, clicking her tongue absentmindedly. Clicking through some screens that made next to no sense to the living weapon, Coda eventually brought up a video file. “Here we go, the assault on the City of Hope. This one’s real gristly.”

As she hit play, a slightly grainy recording taken from the midst of a city began. It had clearly began after the assault in question, with bodies strewn about and mutated flora and fauna tearing into the populace. They weren’t without resistance, however. There were several individuals, most of which were clearly not from the city, fighting back against the corruption with weapons and magic alike, including-

“STOP, stop the footage!” Zayin commanded, immediately receiving shushes from around him. Coda was caught off-guard by the sudden reaction, feeling the angel’s grip tighten on the back of her chair, pausing as he said. Turning back, the living weapon’s face was a make of barely contained rage, his eyes flaring like tiny suns while his wings were extended magnificently behind him.

“Aww… no move.” Nanaue said sadly.

“What’s the problem?” Coda asked, confused. Was the footage too intense for him? Unbeknownst to her, however, the angel had his gaze fixed on one point in particular. Far in the background of the footage, a blue-cloaked figure was striking at a mutated plant with a wave of crackling purple energy.

‘I see you, eldritch scum.’ Zayin seethed internally. He would recognise the taint of an elder god anywhere. To think that they had spread this far, the news was so much worse than any ‘unmaking’. “Sorry… it's nothing. You can continue.”

The Carnivale employee nodded silently, knowing that something had disturbed her companion but not pushing any further. Nanaue was just glad that he got to watch some more.
 

Arthur Morgan

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Coda observed Zayin out of the corner of her eye, chewing on her bottom lip. His face was a stone mask lacking in expression, his ordinarily soft golden eyes having taken on a distinctly hostile gleam. Well, if he wasn't gonna share with the class, Coda would just have to—

“Fish!” Nanaue uttered suddenly, nearly startling Coda out of her skin. He pointed with one of his thick, blunt fingers at a gargantuan shape that had just come into view on the screen, his unpleasantly warm breath washing over her like the stench of a late afternoon fish market as he spoke. "Big fish."

"Huh?" Coda asked, her gaze darting back to the screen. She hastily rewound the footage again, allowing them all to get a better look.

The video unfroze. The trio not-so-subtly leaned in, Zayin hovering over Coda's left shoulder whilst King Shark stood to her right, effectively boxing her into her seat.

A great floating chunk of rock, likely part of the island suburb, hovered in the middle of the shot, buoyed up by the same force that kept all of Opealon's aerial islands aloft. For a moment, Coda was confused about why the cameraperson had decided to focus on this particular piece of debris when there were already SO many to choose from— and then she noticed what appeared to be an unfortunate family of four scrambling on their hands and knees across its jagged, uneven surface, screaming their fool heads off.

But that wasn’t all. Writhing atop and around the island of Nausicaa were gigantic tentacles so thick that they were hardly visible inside the video’s frame thanks to their sheer size. Each thrashing movement sent visible shock waves rippling throughout the stormy sky, shadowy purple-black tentacles strangling the life out of the lovely little residential island. A peal of rapid gunfire rang out, the eldritch creature's wet hide flickering green wherever the island's defenders struck it.

They all watched with reactions ranging from mild horror to blank-eyed fascination as one tentacle separated from the mass, rising slowly into the air like a fat, viscous tree trunk, and idly swatted the tiny hunk of rock— screaming family and all —into the churning sea below. Like they'd been nothing more than insects, their lives as easily discarded as a common housefly's.

Swallowing thickly, Coda paused the video, her fingers slick with sweat and fumbling a bit over the keyboard. The footage froze on a blurry capture of the ocean waves, nothing but agitated seafoam and dark water visible in the shot.

Coda shuddered. Now that had been unpleasant to watch. She'd probably be seeing that family's faces again in her nightmares, pale as death and mouths gaping open in silent screams as they were sent tumbling to their doom...

"I don't think I can stomach much more of that, to be honest. It was bad enough watching it the first time," she admitted, wrinkling her nose. She glanced over at their sharky friend, who seemed somewhat puzzled by the fact that the pretty pictures had stopped moving. "So, uh... you wouldn't happen to know what that thing is, would you, Nanaue?

Nanaue stared at the computer, the beady black pits of his eyes wide and unblinking, their dark depths reflecting the faint bluish light of the carnage on screen. A deep rumbling went through his massive chest, the gills lining the side of his meaty neck rippling as the vibrations traveled throughout his frame, Coda noted with some fascination.

"Good num nums," King Shark reported. His nostrils flared, then, almost as if he was scenting at the library's cool, mechanically-filtered air. "Hungry."

"O-oh!" Coda chuckled hesitantly, trying to exchange a quick glance with Zayin. Unfortunately, he was still busy glaring at the poor computer. "Watching all that, um, made you hungry huh? Well, I'm a bit famished myself! What about you, Zayin?"

Zayin frowned slightly, his severe stare still fixed on the computer and the still image depicted on its screen. Seriously, it was like he was trying to stare a hole through it! Coda sincerely hoped that wasn't an actual power most angels had, because if so, she'd be looking at a slightly smaller paycheck.

Finally, though, he tore his gaze away, adopting a mildly intrigued expression at Coda's question. "I... don't need to eat to maintain this form. That being said, it might be an interesting way to pass the time."

"Great!" chirped Coda, already getting up from her seat. It was a bit hard to do so with the both of them towering over her like they were, but she managed to clamber out without getting her head bit off by a giant shark man, so she'd take it. "We can head to the Recreation Level, then. You'll love it— it has food, games, and a bunch of other fun stuff!"

"Games?" echoed Nanaue, the word having apparently caught his interest.

"Yes, games. All sorts. Karaoke, dancing, arcade games... are you any good at singing, Nanaue?"

The shark man stared at Coda, his saw-like maw agape. His black eyes rolled around inside his skull, the whites flashing in a sickly fashion, before refocusing on her.

"Me sing good."

Despite her reservations, Coda was intrigued. "Oh? What kinds of songs do you like to sing?"

Nanaue lifted an arm to scratch at his wide snout, the cartilage stiff and unmoving under his blunt fingers. An unidentifiable, rust-colored substance flaked off, peppering the floor. "Only pretty songs."

What kind of symphonic atrocity would he unleash upon us, if he could? wondered Coda, within the privacy of her own mind. She wasn't very confident in a shark's musical tastes appealing to the average mammal, after all.

Speaking aloud, she said, "Pretty songs! I see. Well, er, I'm sure we'll have a lot to choose from, my friend!"

Nanaue paused, his arm lowering from where it had been scratching at his snout. "Friend?"

Coda blinked. "Oh, sorry. Are we not friends? I know we've only known each other for a short while, but I figured, why not be friends!"

The shark man appeared to ponder this, his head lightly bobbing around atop his broad shoulders. Or maybe he wasn't pondering anything at all and Coda was completely misinterpreting his expression. Whatever the case, his mouth widened, more of his razor sharp teeth and slaughter house gums exposed to the air... and there it was. The tiniest upturn at the corners of his mouth.

King Shark was smiling.
 

Eddie the Head

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Upon Rockstar Eddie’s stroll, he began to deduce that swirling in the world around him was some sort of carnaval, celebration, or grand affair. Though, there were far too many guards in masquerade attire for him to not feel like a corralled mule ready for slaughter.

His eyes were a magpie to all things fleshy and shining… The corpse-man licked his lips at the thought of poetry laden cotton-candy. Where he stood, however, was far from the library of culture he was imagining. Instead of the library of Alexandria, he found himself at the lowest of the low. He made his way elsewhere seeking tomes of wisdom instead of fool’s ale.

“Oof!” A voice uttered and a visage that had been weaving swiftly around now took the presence of the moment to look up.

Eddie felt a delayed bumping sensation pass into his shoulder and his motion to look down crawled slowly on his posture.

“Uh…” Five’s eyes burst with shock as he looked at this living-dead corpse. The physicist inside of him roared with curiosity, How would that even be possible? Though his own impossibility of age answered that improbability. However, his piqued interest was not snuffed out.

Eddie blinked curiously, he had just been talking to his manager about his youngest fans. How serendipitous, the star thought to himself sarcastically. “Do you want an autograph, kid?” He patted himself down and found he had no pen. This made the star feel ever so slightly disappointed the showman could not easily give his worshippers what the fans wanted.

Five’s left eye twitched with immoral interpretation as he silenced his loudest response to scream at the assumption. However, much like a kid, questions bubbled past first with the squeak of his voice, “Uh, what are you?”

Eddie drank in a deep breath and his eyes almost emulated some semblance of humanity as they softened. The showman prepared himself for his next call into a heuristic demonstration of talent with his own selected response. A poem leaving the interpretation artistically loose as he delved into some Yeats for the audience of two unbeknownst to Eddie. Meanwhile, Blaidd was sitting in the background his canine ears tilted toward the direction of the upcoming twirl of words, yet was biding his time for the right moment to step in.

“That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees,
—Those dying generations—at their song…
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect…
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
…And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity….”

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”

Five sucked in a breath of utter shock. The fright of revelation zapped through him, uncontrollable like electricity. The art was catching, laden in the air with a swirl of invisible wind.

The stranger had chosen a poem about the aging of man, (or the decay of man, as Eddie might have put it) how could he have possibly known that would strike such a relatable, truly personal chord within Five? There was also something unusually beautiful about the philosophy to answer some simple question under the thoughtful guise of poetry… though there was something on a rational level, a bit maddening that drove him into wanting more.

Still, Five’s defenses tumbled down, utterly disarmed by the poetry alone. Patience had called him to listen, it was the only human response, though the old man had known every word he still hung off each one as they were spoken with such perfect pause. Wholly aware of this within himself, yet the elder-in-child form remained humbled by simple emotion and allowed it as a catalyst to smile. For, he couldn’t quite fight it. The journey he had been taken on had twisted his heartstrings. Five almost felt a tear at the corner of his eye. Acting was one of the finest calls to being. The answer, had in one literal sense answered Five’s question twice-over. He was an unidentified, aged-creature called to be an actor. He’d answered what he was with his career. Five nodded and marveled as it all slowly sank in. The blindness of his question and demand resonating still within the youth.

Five patted the old chap on the back and nodded his approval. Poetry with meaning. Instead of being filled with fright, Five could not doubt that the thing standing before him had once been man for he had flavor to his soul. The youth answered his own question as he looked at the bones of old and extended an olive branch. “Ah, a fan of the classics I see?”

“Classics of all kinds.” The Classic-Rock artist added with wry humor while his lips turned upward, the artist did not hide that he seemed to view the world as one unending song.

“So, who are you, what’s your story and how did you end up here?” Five asked with an excited smile. Was he talking to a zombie, a dead man, an ancient one? It honestly didn’t even matter. The showman’s electric charisma drew Five in and their conversation happened with swift turn that rapidfire answers were invigorating and finally Five felt he’d met someone who was able to keep up with his own intellect’s speed. Driven by questions propelled by Eddie’s enigmatic charisma.

There was no denying, Eddie’s presence was magnetic to the boy whether he liked it or not. His heart had been serenaded by poetry and… something artistic that Five couldn’t quote put his finger on. No boy would ever dare to imagine the personification of Pandora’s box in the man before him- yet instead Five was dreaming about and idolizing it before it had even occurred.

“They call me Eddie the ‘ead. As in, you know, off with his…” Eddie joked and made a motion peeling his hand across his neck as he winked to the onlooker. “As for how I ended up here at the crossroads of destiny…” The performer's wistful voice trailed into contemplation where his mind seemed to follow.

Five’s eyes sparkled at the symbolic allusion as he waited eagerly for the answer. The youth’s smile continued to beam. This was the first truly interesting thing to happen to him in… Years? Well, to be fair a few other things had happened to him in between.

Five was perhaps one of the only humans who could stare into the uncharted abyss of man and survive as he was the result of utterly impossible chaos. The Academy's old hand was familiar with all things strange. To him, madness was not a concept, nor was it an amalgamation of oddities and mismatched formulas that created this reality, he knew so many others akin to his own incongruity existed in the beyond. Now he was standing face to face with it. Fate had truly picked the best man for the job to determine: Man or monster?

Five's theory of everything had yet again proved correct. He could not help but feel this triumph fly into confidence that reflected in his tight posture as he extended a hand to Eddie ‘the Head’ and offered, “Five. My name’s Five.”

To either of them, age was not a number, but a coexistence of moments to time to reflect on. A scenario that brought realities together. Eddie did not care if the child before him was five or a hundred, or both. But, he certainly interpreted the stranger’s name as his title as an announcement that he was five years old. Perhaps the title was symbolic of five years of victory, surviving under any means was quite a feat. Whatever the answer the boy was, Eddie would respectfully call Five by his title. For Eddie himself would require no less.

After all, you were never too young to learn how to sin.
 

Karl Jak

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The young man scowled as he slipped his way out from the grand hallway of what was totally not a preshow facility. On some level, it felt a bit weird to be in a place like this and have zero obligations. Usually, Kevin had a litany of items on his to-do list, and if he wasn’t constantly crossing out objectives and obstacles, he would be unable to enjoy himself. Now, he found himself with absolutely nothing he needed to do, and more than that, he had found loose instructions to ensure he kept that the case.

“Do nothing during the preshow, Kevin. Avoid everyone, unless you know they can be trusted (no southern accents, no people with amnesia, no teenagers, and no furries. They’ll just pull you into some zany and/or uncomfortable situation and hope to boost their feelings and/or stock in the public eye. Just let them burn hot.”

While Kevin didn’t necessarily understand the majority of the note that Mr. Jak had left in his back pocket—when had that been placed there, anyway?—he took it as some roundabout request that he relax. After all, Mr. Jak almost always nearly had his best interests at heart.

Almost always.

Smiling as he adjusted his glasses, Kevin found himself in a library. Syntech had a library, too.

“Ours is better,” he muttered, catching the augmented ears of a nearby robotic attendant. Before the redhead could react, he found a clockwork man standing a few inches from his face.

“Greetings,” a modulated voice softly replied from a speaker somewhere beneath the figure’s translucent, gear-filled cranium. “Welcome to the Library … how may I assist you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Hello, Okay, I am Monsieur De Chauncy. How may I assist you?”

Kevin, who had nearly a decade of experience dealing with vagrants, psychos, and literal looney tunes, didn’t bat an eye at the eccentric robot aide. The young man simply smiled and tilted his head. “Can you direct me to your collection on eldritch outsiders? I’m trying to find the newest edited edition of texts on the teachings of Galskap.”

The clockwork robot tilted his head as the whirring of the gears provided the only sounds among the pair of individuals. After a few moments, the Monsieur pointed up and to the left. “You’ll want to head up to level six. You are most likely to find the texts you are looking for in shelf six of section six. Your specific query was not provided in proper formatting – do you have an ISBN number?”

“I’ll go up and browse.”

“Have a splendid day, Sir/Ma’am Okay.”

“You too,” Kevin spoke. “Oh!”

The clockwork robot whirred around with a little too much excitement. “Do you have an additional inquiry?”

“Do you have any tablets for rental?”

The monsieur whirred for a few moments before pointing to a small circulation desk. “We have a number of free ‘swag’ that we are provided to contestants, VIPs, and guests! Enjoy!” With that, the robot made his way to go assist someone else, leaving Kevin to make the silent stroll over to the desk.

“Not exactly what I was hoping for,” Kevin muttered as he reached down and picked up what was essentially a fancy legal pad. “It’s like I’m back in prep school,” he added as he scooped up the pad and glanced at the back. There was no ‘South City Prep’ logos on there, thankfully. Instead, it was embossed with the logo of the Carnival Rosa, which was in the same tier of ‘gross’ for the young man.

Swallowing his corporate pride, Kevin grab a collection of nearby pens—Pilot G2s… utter trash—and made his way toward the stairs that would take him to the upper stacks. The ginger had no real interest in the teachings of cosmic space god number sixty seven, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find something else that might be enjoyable. At the very least, the upper levels of the library could hopefully provide nice respite.
 

John Connor

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This public library was a unique source of knowledge about the Crossroads and beyond, with unlimited time to read it all in a matter of minutes. Vatallion stared over books about “Are you a time traveler or just not certain about technology and need it crammed into your head within a short time period?” It wasn't as good as the higher standing libraries in Rome, but now it was much better.”

More self-help books than anything. He didn’t need any more books to cram in his head about Rome because here as far as he knew the place, he came from doesn’t exist anymore.

He eyed a helpful robot who pointed him to the nearest “Learning English for your first death game experience with a straight face.”

At every corner, the robot pointed out a slight insult to Vatallion, who had exactly no idea what he was mentioning and why the mechanized thing was talking or walking.

Instead, he found a chair in the back of the Crossroad’s library and began to stuff his head with new knowledge.

He grabbed a book and noted the title: The Rise and Fall of Rome. Was this a actual idea of a sick joke to him or was this some prophecy in the future? Everything he’d worked for had failed and so did everyone else.

It was simply different faces, just a different war, right?
 
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