When an applicant passed Ahvra’s exams, she pushed a button which moved one of the room’s walls to reveal a hidden elevator, and then prompted the applicant to step inside. From the initial group, around 30 hadn’t made it past this stage. Most of them decided to leave of their own volition during the exams, with about a dozen not even making it that far—changing their minds during the long wait. Ahvra had only failed one candidate herself.
The elevator took them up to the second floor and opened up to a large room. There was a single chair in the center, directly facing the four Fiends who were all sitting behind a long table. Each applicant was invited to take a seat, but before the actual interview began, almost all the applicants had one question they couldn’t help but address regarding something in one of the corners of the room.
There, a young girl, barely older than a toddler, laid on her back on an exercise ball, rocking back and forth. She was either engrossed in her tablet or staring down the applicants intensely, more focused than any of the others. “That’s Feyjrusa.” Phon was usually the one who introduced her. “You can ignore her for the most part. She won’t be asking any questions. Rusa’s Curse allows her to notice even the slightest change in body language. So, there’s a good chance she’ll know if you’re lying or hiding something. Keep that in mind.”
Throughout the interviews, Phon would regularly have to go and take Rusa’s tablet from her since she’d stop paying attention. “Sorry about that, this incarnation of her is obsessed with internet videos,” one of them would apologize. Somehow, Rusa would always get her tablet back without anyone noticing. Even when Phon got fed up and teleported it far away, Rusa would have it again, or possibly another from a hidden stash even Phon couldn’t see.
While on the subject of introducing Rusa, the Fiends would take the time to mention Mallea. She couldn’t be present for the interviews since she was helping those who’d passed get settled in. However, she would be regularly observing the interviews through a feed on her phone, her past training as a psychologist able to pick up on discrepancies and red flags.
From there, the interview began. Each applicant was asked questions from one of two predetermined lists. As part of their signup process, each candidate was asked whether or not they actually wanted to join the operations side of the Fiends For Hire; as in, go on jobs and be part of their ranking structure.
However, this was not required to join, and only about half had selected this option. The other option was simply to live there. They wouldn’t be a member, but a resident, free to live without persecution and judgment from the rest of the world. This meant that they wouldn’t get the benefits of joining the organization, but would be able to live peacefully.
They could only stay, though, if they were productive in some way. This could mean getting a non-operative job for the Fiends For Hire if something suited them, or they could find work in Bisomote or a further town. If they were still young or had enough ambition, they could also continue their education. As long as they were living a fruitful life, they were allowed to stay as long as they wanted. This was the dominant choice among the applying Lesser Fiends.
Regardless of which path they chose, in the interviewers’ eyes, they had all already been accepted. They weren’t looking for reasons to approve their joining. Instead, they were looking for compatibility issues that could prove difficult down the line. If they wanted to be a member, the group wanted to make sure that they were skillful and dedicated enough. If they just wanted to be a resident, the group had to weed out those looking for a free ride. Even though Ahvra had shared her notes, they only looked at them if there was a discrepancy or confusion, wanting to make their own impressions.
For the most part, the resident side of questioning was uneventful, but those applying to the Fiends For Hire directly were an interesting bunch to say the least.
◆Question 1: Could You Tell Us About Yourself, Including Your Name and Race?◆
The simplest question, that should give the simplest answers, but it wasn’t always the case. Some required the prompt before doing it, some gave it on their own, and some gave way more than needed.
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{No. 118; | Ahvra's Notes: Nerves May be a Problem / Secret Power? / Full of Himself. Stop Shaking}
“Gatrim Foilepe of the honored Foilepe house, at your service,” the young man bowed before taking his seat. His clothing was quite regal, belonging to someone from wealth, and he had a slim cloak draped over his shoulder with a crest embroidered into it. He had luscious long blond hair that draped down past his shoulders.
“I am what you would call a Lesser Fiend, but to think of me as lesser would only make you fools.” He gave a golden smile, beaming with self-confidence. Unfortunately, as written in Ahvra’s notes, his body was betraying him and shaking with nerves.
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{No. 29; | Ahvra's Notes: Too Compliant / Needs Annoyingly Specific Instruction / Dead inside?}
“Lesser Fiend. I have no name. It is unnecessary for my work,” the man defined directly. He was dressed extremely plainly. It was clear that he wasn’t meant to stand out, reminding the others of the dirt soldiers that Sim had commanded.
“Kayyyyy…” Kada finally broke the ice after moments of nothing but blank stares from the group. “But what should we call you then.”
“Orders are all I need. That is all you need to say to me,” the man persisted.
“Well, in an official capacity, we will need something to document you as,” Drim played along with him more than the others.
“Hmm. I see the dilemma then if it would impede the flow of business,” the man conceded and then pondered for a moment. “Asset. That is what I am. Since I have been designated with the 29th number, you may call me Asset 29.”
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{No. 53; | Ahvra's Notes: Probably Dishonest Motives / Likes Money. Mumbles / Asks dumb questions}
“Pense Betitahonk, a Lesser,” the man eagerly sneered at them. “It is truly an honor to meet such widely renowned criminals such as yourselves.” There wasn’t much to note about his appearance, besides his clothing seeming oddly bulky. Phon had smiled and snickered to herself a bit when he entered the room, but whatever she saw she didn’t feel it important enough to share with the others.
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{No. 8; | Ahvra's Notes: Possibly Likes Hair Too Much / Likes Hair A Lot / Likes Hair}
“Hair.” The woman said softly as she sat in the seat, still playing with the hair gifted from Ahvra. She was dressed in dark baggy clothing, but it was hard to see at all since her entire body was wrapped in her own luscious powder-rose colored hair like a robe. Her ochre colored eyes managed to just peek out beneath her long bangs. She was clearly a Fiend, even if she didn’t mention it.
“Hair?” Xard pushed further.
“Hairionette,” the woman mumbled, barely audible. “That is what my Curse calls itself. That is what it calls me. That is what I call me. That is what you now call me.” It was very roundabout, and immediately off-putting, but they finally got an answer.
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{No. 50; | Ahvra's Notes: Historically Mistreated / Humble / Stiff Ex-Soldier}
“Tize Scound, a Lesser Fiend. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” While keeping it short and direct, he still managed to be polite. Tize was one of the oldest applicants, appearing to be in his late 30s or early 40s. His dark brown hair had some gray coming in, but even without Ahvra’s notes, it was clear he was a former soldier based on his style.
He was also wearing a very form-fitting long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled back. The pants he wore were well belted and full of pockets and his boots were clearly reinforced. He was a man ready for action. That certainly couldn’t be denied. However, he also had a calming mannerism about him, like a friendly uncle or father.
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{No.s 91+92; | Ahvra's Notes: If they Join, Not Allowed Near Me. Ever / Very Annoying. Bad At Instructions / Annoying Couple}
“She’s Mith,” The man introduced the woman.
“He’s Bere,” The woman introduced the man.
“And together, we’re Mith and Bere! Lesser Fiends ready to blast anything you need! Pew pew pew pew.” The two yelled in unison as they whipped out their revolvers, pretending to blast at enemies around the room while making accompanying sound effects.
Since there was only one chair, Mith was sitting on Bere’s lap, but they seemed to welcome it as she draped her arm around him. Their frontier style getup was clearly their aesthetic, one lost to time. Even the rebuilding settlements in the wild areas of the world didn’t dress like that anymore. It was a style that was only seen anymore in movies and at costume parties.
Each of the interviewer Fiends took a moment to collectively sigh, with the harsh realization of how long today was going to be finally setting in.
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{No. 44; | Ahvra's Notes: Unnoteworthy}
“A pleasure to meet you all, I’m Kaizu Izuzu, a Lesser Fiend. Thank you for taking the time to consider me today.” This woman didn’t sit down right away. Instead, she handed each of the four Fiends a business card and a copy of her resume. She was clearly a professional in the business sense, one that seemed out of place to be applying for a place like this. Ahvra specifically mentioned in her notes that she hadn’t stood out in any way whatsoever during her exams, so there was nothing to note besides the fact that there was nothing to note.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
She was dressed in a full business suit and skirt, even with accompanying high heels and stockings. Her raven black hair was folded over itself and the back, tied up and as tidy as could be. The perfect example of what upper-management looked like to the working class. Her appearance instilled a slight sense of dread in the others, feeling unrefined in their work ethic and professionalism when compared to her.
The only thing out of place were the blood red eyes hiding behind her glasses. Though, perhaps such a scary gaze could be useful in negotiations. One other thing, however, was Phon’s reaction. By the expression on her face, she clearly believed something was off, but once more, she didn’t share.
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{No. 121; | Ahvra's Notes: Many Innuendos / Vain / Trying to flirt?}
“Heyo peeps,” the young woman greeted the room. “It’s so wild being around other Fiends, y’know. It’s my first time in like ever.” She eagerly stared at the others for a response and then remembered what she was supposed to do. “Oh right, serious biz time. I’m Niloy Spatzel, but don’t use my last name! It’s totally not cute. Just call me Niloy or Nini.”
Even when she was giving her demand, she was still bubbling with energy, with a playful appearance to match her personality. She was wearing a yellow raincoat that had been heavily altered. The top half had been tailored to snugly fit her figure, and the sleeves were cut off, leaving her dark arms bare.
The bottom went down to her knees, but it flowed out much wider to make it look like a dress. The hood was up over her head, her pink hair flowing out past her shoulders in two low twintails. What really drew attention to her face, though, was her neon lime green eyes, which stood out even more when compared to other Fiends. For someone who seemed to love the attention, it suited her.
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{No. 89; | Ahvra's Notes: Sold Blood for Cheap. See if you can Buy More / Shifty. Thief?}
“Roque Personson, the most honest Fiend you’ll ever meet,” the man sold a smile to the group as he introduced himself. “Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘that is the most fake sounding name I’ve ever heard’. But I guarantee it is not a fake identity. I can provide any form of identification that you need at a moment's notice.”
He began pulling various cards and certificates out of the pockets of his cheap suit, flashing them one at a time to the group as they continued to eye him suspiciously. His eyes were the color of diamonds, his irises matching the same glistening texture. The greasy dome around his head looked like literal grease; his hair a swirl of green, blue, and gray. His entire persona emanated a radiance of someone who would steal a house and then try to sell it back.
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{No. 66; | Ahvra's Notes: If Joins, Make Sure all Allocated Supplies and Furniture are Reinforced / Too Strong / Big Woman}
When the large woman sat down, the chair beneath her creaked in agony. Before the actual interview began, there was already a commotion among the Fiends. “I thought you said us Fiend women couldn’t get that muscular! She’s huge!” Kada had leaned over to Phon, attempted to whisper, but failed miserably at remaining quiet.
“I don’t know!” was all Phon could say in response. “We adapt to our idea of normal, that must be her normal!” She was equally bewildered. The chatter spread among the whole group until they finally grew considerate enough to move forward.
Xard attempted to apologize to her and refocus, “Sorry, for that miss… ummm?”
“Itsy,” the woman interjected. “Itsy Humdiddy. A Fiend.”
The group tried to keep it together, but they just couldn’t, and all began to burst out laughing at the ironic contradiction. When the storm of snickers finally settled, Drim apologized once more. “We’re very sorry Itsy, it was quite unprofessional of us. It’s a lovely name and a pleasure to meet you.”
“Tis fine,” she huffed. “I get that reaction all the time. Funny thing is my parents named me that cus I was the runt of the litter, but now I could pick up my whole family with one arm.” There certainly wasn’t anything itsy about her now. She was huge in all proportions, from height, to width, to muscle definition and curves, and everything else in between.
The coveralls she wore seemed like they used to match her short rust colored hair, but were seriously stained. They couldn’t be zipped up fully in the middle, so her upper torso in a dark blue undershirt was bursting out of it. On the arm of the coveralls there was a patch that looked like it read ‘Humdiddy Garage’ but it had long since faded. What would never fade, though, were her eyes. They were colored Chrome with a striking metallic sheen.
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{No. 100; | Ahvra's Notes: My Head Hurts / Eyes Playing Tricks / Hard to Pin Down}
“Uhh, did someone come in?” Kada confusedly asked the rest of the group. The elevator had dinged open, and then closed again a few moments later, but no one was there. There was a shuffling noise over by the chair, causing everyone to tense up and stare at it deeply.
“Hmm, I’m getting a faint hint of an aura,” Phon relayed to the others as she continued to examine it with her vision. “Definitely the weakest aura I’ve ever seen.”
“Umm, Hello.” A boy popped into existence, sitting timidly in the chair.
“Waahhh!” everyone blurted a noise as they lurched in their seats. Rusa had the biggest reaction, since she’d been in another league of focus compared to the others. She jumped so much that she flopped right off her exercise ball and slammed into the wall, her head now under the rest of her body.
“Umm, sorry, umm hello, umm,” the boy repeatedly mumbled, trying his best to get out a complete sentence, but before he could, he vanished again.
“Where’d he go?” Drim asked the others.
“Huh? What do you mean? He’s right there,” Xard contested.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the boy rapidly apologized and then started stuttering. “When, when… I’m nervous. I, I, my power, my Curse. I’m not very good at it”. The boy then continued to flicker in and out of sight for everyone seemingly at random. After several minutes of struggle and not getting very far, it was clear action would need to be taken.
Wental, a Resident Fiend who had passed earlier that day, was summoned back to the room. He had the power to imbue emotion into objects, and then transfer those emotions into whoever was hit with said objects. Using a padded bat, Wental lightly wacked the boy into existence.
“Better?” Wental asked the boy who was now cycling deep breaths as his fidgeting steadied.
“Yes I am. Thank you very much” the boy finally said his first clear sentence as he gave a pure and beaming smile to Wental.
“Well, if that’s all, I’d like to go back to unpacking if you don’t mind,” Wental addressed the others. Phon then teleported him back from whence he came.
“I’m really sorry about that,” the boy apologized again as he glanced at his hands. “I can’t remember the last time I was so stable.”
“Don’t mind it,” Drim insisted. “Every Fiend has their own struggles when learning to control their Curse. Now if you wouldn’t mind giving us your introduction.”
“Oh right, of course, sorry.” It was clear that apologizing was in the boy’s very nature. “I’m Rezin Anish a, umm, Fiend. I know… I know that I look young, and I get teased often for it, but I’m actually 22!” He did his best to sound resolute, but his voice and figure heavily disputed his claim.
The group all stared at him, clearly unconvinced. He was no taller than a middle schooler at best. His baby blue hair had a childish haircut with bangs that mostly covered his peach eyes. His shirt and shorts gave a very youthlike vibe as well. The group looked over to Rusa for confirmation who was still warily staring at the boy. “No lies, not that I could tell,” she hesitantly admitted. “His body language is so far from a normal person that my readings are practically useless.”
Ahvra then popped into existence next to the boy, as both of them took their turns to jump back in surprise. It seemed Phon had teleported her there to give them a definitive reading. “Ah, not this one!” Ahvra complained. “My head still hurts… though, he looks more… solid.” She gave him a poke.
“His time, Ahvra. How old is he?” Phon demanded without so much as a greeting.
“Hmm, that’s odd,” Ahvra’s eyes rippled as she examined him. “I never bothered to measure his time earlier since it seemed unimportant, but my Curse says he’s 22.” She then put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Another soul doomed to shop in the children’s section. I completely understand.” Then completely out of character, she gave him a hug.
Ahvra vanished from sight mid-hug, and then the interview proceeded as normal.
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{No. 152; | Ahvra's Notes: My Body is Confused / Smile Haunts Me / Don’t Like. Causes Stress}
When this person entered the room, all eyes were on them. It couldn’t be compared to the casual and friendly glances when the others had stepped off the same elevator. No, they had the Fiends For Hire entranced from the moment they appeared, their every step being watched with intrigue and curiosity. From the way they walked, to how they were dressed, everything drew attention.
“Chorus Mistrion, Fiend, here to grace your presence.” They crossed their legs, and gave their winning professional smile that had thrown Ahvra for a loop. Not much was said after that, but finally Xard broke the enchantment.
“I’m sorry, uhm, are you Choram Mistrion, the famous actor? The multi award-winning, extremely successful actor?” Xard inquired, clearly a little giddy at the prospect.
“What? No!” Kada slammed her hands on the table as she jolted out of her seat. “That’s clearly Choretta Mistrion, my favorite actress since I was a kid.” She yelled at Xard and then turned towards Chorus and smiled. “I love your work!” she grinned gleefully.
“Huh? How could you be so confused?” Xard contested. “I’d never forget Choram’s face. He was my first crush and umm, a big part of me accepting that I was gay… So quit insulting him!”
Chorus’ appearance certainly wasn’t helping their confusion. Their outfit was split half-and-half right down the middle. On their left side, they were wearing a regal orange gown that matched their long, curly, and professionally styled hair. On their right side, they wore an extremely expensive and lavish burgundy suit that matched their eyes. The hair on that side was tucked up tight like a distinguished male.
“Children, children, please stop fighting over me. All that yelling is bad for your complexion.” Chorus didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. “I’m all that you’ve said and many more. I’ve acted under many names, some well known as you’ve mentioned, some no one would ever guess. Oh, and so we’re clear. I will never reveal which gender I actually am, heh.”
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{No. 144; | Ahvra's Notes: Unsure if Prayer is part of Curse / Religion is Powerful? / Very Religious. Bad sense of age.}
“I have no name. I relinquished it in service to the lord long ago,” the woman answered. Her commitment to her religion was never in question. The vestments she wore were ancient ceremonial robes from a church of Cosmos. They covered her entire body, including a veil that fully encompassed her head and face. Unlike the others, making out her hair and eye color was impossible.
“I am a Fiend as you call it,” she continued, “But I prefer the term Child of Cosmos.”
“How should we address you then?” Phon demanded. “It would be quite inconvenient for everyone else if we have nothing to call you.”
“I have no need to be addressed,” the woman refused to offer anything helpful. “I merely am a vessel for Cosmos’ will. My identity has long since been erased. If you insist on something, though… you may address me by the moniker humanity has given to me. The Slayer should be able to figure it out.”
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{No. 65; | Ahvra's Notes: Weird About Her Arms / Capable Despite Appearance / Formerly Injured. Fiend Anomaly}
“What a cruel irony, to be named Jaid when you have emerald hair,” Phon snickered to herself after the Fiend, Jaid Sparka, had introduced herself.
“Umm yes, haha, you’re not the first to say that,” Jaid feigned laughing along with her, even though she was clearly not amused. Her fake laugh wasn’t the only thing she seemed to be improvising. There was something quite off about the way she dressed. She was in a flannel jacket over a tank top while wearing sweatpants.
That would be quite comfortable attire for a day at home, but it gave off the wrong impression here. It was like she was trying too hard to look casual, and it didn’t match the serious demeanor on her face, the way she sat, and her blue eyes that seemed to be critically judging everything around her. The Fiends didn’t let it bother them, though, and proceeded onto the next question.
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