“Easier said than done, mind you…” Calypso tossed out that semi-playful, semi-threatening statement. After all, nothing good comes out of giving a lock of your hair to a stranger.
Nevertheless, Calypso reached into her phantasmic hood and raked her dainty fingers across the ends of her hair. Hooking her index and thumb around a decent lock, she pressed those fingers and rubbed them, thus splitting the lock into smaller strands, leaving her with at least a couple. Counting in her head, shutting her eyes, she proceeded to yank, grimacing under her concealed face.
As Gale made a cute squeak and Natalie grumbled about “not having much hair to begin with”… Of course Calypso was compelled to look at Sal, immediately wanting to say that she didn’t want to do this as the spot she plucked was irritated.
Yet she already had her few strands, silently looking back at her cousin through the garish clown mask. Calypso just nodded and looked forward again, twirling her hair in her fingers in thought.
Despite the pain long fading into a dull ache, Calypso’s grimace didn’t cease. She took pride in her looks, or at the very least, was one of the few activities she did without requiring as much computing power as the others. Or rather… An activity that she had full control over, maybe. It was just a matter of looking presentable, something that had to be done. No ego of sorts to trim hair, to organize clothes, to use the makeup that suits the environment that she has to go into, or achieve the effect she wants to have over people. She always created a boxy, professional look to herself—and it was by choice. It was both a means of distraction and in a sense, a shielding. Instant assumptions, nothing that sets off the eye. She was just a scrawny, preppy girl and that’s all they need to know.
“Believe me, I know it’s rather abrupt, but trust me…” Richard chuckled after, as he gestured to the nearest Better People to receive their hair. “This will be something of use to you more than I…”
After being handed these hair samples, the Better People nearest to Calypso and the girls reached into their tattered cloaks. No rustling, no signs of movement, until the two duos pulled out very small, metallic gel eggs. Rotund orbs that glistened against the illustration of light from the flames, slightly melting in basking in it.
It was short-lived, they shoved their hair into the liquid cage. The substance quickly consumed the hair, spasming as the pods swelled with mass that added to themselves by the second.
The morphing pods forced themselves out of their respective hands, less than the Better People that held them simply dropped them. They quickly became blobs, twitching wads that started by being up to the girls’ ankles and shifted up to their chests in moments. What was amorphous became slowly and slowly familiar as the tensing trembling of the masses became eerily still.
Calypso wanted to shout. Demand what Richard was getting at with… What she was forced to see. Wanted to protect Sal, and immediately apologize for being a part of this mess.
It was like they were staring at unfinished versions of themselves. Just the likeness, but the details were instantly blurred. Silicon masked store models, “wearing” clothes that in of themselves didn’t make sense and were more like sprouts growing from the body. And they didn’t move. No breathing, no slight wobbling… No sense of life whatsoever.
“I understand that this is very terrifying,” Richard waved, his leather glove creaking with every move. “But these are simply decoys that we use for our operations. Not to bore you to death with the details, but in the process of giving the life people were robbed of back, there needs to be… Undeniable plausibility that they weren’t killed. Hence these dolls. We’re partners, and I want Cassie to not go after your loved ones.”
“IIII know you guys haven’t got the best look at us, but gotta say—kinda insulting--?” Gale’s voice rose an octave.
Richard chuckled, genuinely. “It is humiliating, isn’t it? But I assure you Gale, they’re not going to be used for up close and personal interaction. These are for far-away shots—walking towards the town, wandering in the forest… Causing just enough to sow doubt in our mutual enemy. And the best part…?”
With a snap, each of the golems melted in an instant.
“The moment of pursuit or attack. Let’s be honest—while incredibly reckless, she isn’t stupid. These aren’t going to work for the next week or so, but can at least distract and pour her energies into dealing with, even if it only takes an hour of that time planning.”
Calypso watched as the puddles slithered away. Making good work on moving away from the campsite, into the wilds of the forest as she turned her head back to Richard.
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“Since we’ve naturally came to the subject…” Calypso signed a tad. “What’s the status of things? Have your people found out any critical information?”
Richard proceeded to lean on his left side. Rubbing his two leathered hands slowly to drown out the crackle of fire.
“Clearly, she’s lying in wait. I’m… Weary of that. She knows that the unknown does wonders for the prey’s mind. She’s hoping for us to either cease up and hold up to our devices. Or cause us to do the most reckless move and capitalize on it.”
“Pretty much,” Natalie added in. “S’what I’d do—”
“So, that’s why we’re playing her game. We’re helping out, what with the designs for the festivities. Our plan is to minimize and fight back in the center of the madness as much as we are able. But due to the ruling, our resources have been crippled enough for this to be a very dicey affair. We can’t win through confrontation, especially since what we’re protecting are hidden soldiers.”
“That’s where we come in. Correct?” Calypso asked.
Richard sat up, deathly still. He then leaned forward, his mask sagged downward… The fake, plastic hat covering the top of his “face”.
“…This is why I wanted to meet with you all. This is going to be… Very dire, your involvement. We can’t directly aid in the likely confrontation with Cassie Morgan. Whatever she’s done, to cheat not only one system, but multiple… It’s uncanny. We don’t have much idea or… Reference yet, especially on such little time. That’s why I’m asking of you—”
“We have a plan.”
It was quite comical, witnessing Richard’s “head” flopping upward, to gaze at Calypso, quizzically. All without actual expression.
“We… Were just tired. Tired of being strung along, to be witnesses to horror and bloodshed. It’s about time we not only solve this power gap, but take matters into our own hands. If things go well… The only death we’ll suffer, personally, will be an ego-centric fashion.”
The skeletal monster girl felt the tense wind and wind, with every word and evasion. She looked to Gale, who sported a scared, half smile. Then to Natalie, who just nodded with her arms crossed.
Calypso didn’t have to strength to face Sal right in this moment. It was hard enough, trying to explain this to her.
“We’ve referred to the tomb. We’ve said our possible goodbyes to our various loved ones. Throughout this week, we’re enacting the Ritual of Rebirth. By any means necessary.”
Calypso heard the various clicks that surrounded them. But she wasn’t fettered. She simply looked at Richard, who was slack in his posture. His gloved hands balled into fists, pressed into his thighs.
“…Calypso… Why would you chance making this already desperate moment worse?”
“Richard,” Calypso tried to reason with a man who had multiple guns trained on them. “I understand the trepidation, more than you know. But this is what you talked about, yes? A moment that Cassie wanted? For just to act irrationally, so we could capitalize on it--?”
“Says the woman that just told me that she’s given up, on all senses of the term.”
“It isn’t giving up—” Natalie butted in. Calypso felt hot when she did. Leftover trigger, when she was just the annoying “gnat” to her, can’t shut up when it’s clear that she should.
“Your word won’t convince me either. So I suggest you keep your trap shut.”
“Haha—nah—” Natalie simply responded, and kept going, “Because you’re ignoring the prime fact here: we’re still novices, noobs. You wanted us to be the wild cards because we have no idea what we’re doing and could be easily disposed of. You didn’t need—but 10/10 for the performance at least—to be so ‘torn’ about sending us to our death—this show of remorse. You just don’t want another thing to worry about—”
“And like always, thank you so much for pointing out the obvious for us,” Richard was clearly agitated, rose to his feet, and pointed at all of the girls. “Cassie Morgan is one thing, but we know what the Ritual Rebirth brings us: complications. We save this town, only for THREE bigger monsters coming forth to fill that void. Monsters, who just admitted, that have no idea what they’re doing! This is insane—you all are insane!”
“The devil you know versus the one you don’t,” Natalie simply shrugged. “You’re a smart boy—you have to understand that this is how these crises are ultimately solved—making a massive mess that everyone hates to clean up—and will focus on cleaning up together. It’s what they call compromise, y’know—”
Calypso heard more clicks, until… The strangest yet familiar sound hit her ears instead.
“It’s a… Very cynical take on political gain, but my friend here is right.”
Sal was capable of hiding her accent. Calypso reminded the phase she went through, where not only did she strive to hide her accent—but even fully change her name. Even for someone headstrong as her, the agonizing pressure of just being known as “the dirty farm girl” was too much for her, growing up, at that point. Of course, in typical Sal fashion, will laugh at this point of her life as if it were a joke… Which Calypso assumed that it was, in a sense.
But nevertheless, that pain became a handy skill.
“You see… I don’t exactly think she’s wrong. Putting it in an unflattering light, to be sure, but… Look, I don’t know you. I don’t know you people—and hopefully, this is a one-off meeting, but you do carry yourself in such a shrewd sense. I can’t call into question your actual emotions, but you were basically going to send these girls in to die. And for what…? To be heroes? T-to be these idols when all you did was guilt them into subservience? And what if their plan was actually giving themselves up? Were you just going to offer words and then tell them exactly where to go? Use these… D-dolls to replace them somehow—for their families that’ll never see them again? None of this was in good faith from the start, so let’s stop acting like this is a case of sanity versus insanity.”
Richard still had his leathered hands balled up. Calypso heard the “cleansing breaths” he was taking to stay calm.