◆Chorus◆
“Why does this feel like the setup for a TV show?” Tusmon sat down in the provided chair, glancing around at the dark atmosphere, professional lighting, and backdrop, that made the room look suspiciously like it was ready for an interview recording.
“Because it absolutely is,” Chorus didn’t try to deny it as they sat down in the opposite chair. The two seats weren’t quite facing each other, rather turned slightly for better angles from the cameras that were hidden in the darkness. “If you’re going to force us to put up with your zjik demands, then the least you can do is let us make content out of it.”
“Fine, do what you will, as long as you answer my questions,” the detective had lost all patience in dealing with the For Hire’s absurd requests. He found it best just to rollover and move things along, even if it meant being their performing punching-bag.
“And I’ll answer yours as long as you answer mine,” The Quick Changer retorted.
“If I can legally answer them,” Tusmon shrugged through it. “And speaking of legality, first question: What is your full legal name?”
“Chorus Mistrion,” The PR Manager answered instantly. “It used to be something else, something much more drab. But my agent had me legally change it once they saw my star potential.”
“And what about you, detective? Fallacy Tusmon, such a unique name. I take it there’s a story behind that.”
“My parents hated each other,” was the simple answer he immediately gave. “They constantly fought yet stayed together for religious beliefs. I was an unexpected pregnancy, and my mother didn’t want to give birth, but my father made her keep me. So out of spite, she named me Fallacy, so he and I would always know I was the result of a stupid argument. And then I was constantly touted as the source of all their problems, their fallacy.”
“That’s atrociously horrible, and astoundingly captivating!” Chorus’ eyes sparkled with greed and creativity. “Have you ever considered selling your story to a studio or publisher? It could be turned into a best-selling drama piece. Actually, I’ll go ahead and claim it for myself.”
The director then pointed their finger threateningly at an invisible camera. “I’m not going to cut this out for the sake of delivering the complete cut, but if any of you use this idea before me, I will sue you.”
Tusmon elected to ignore the antics—not exactly thrilled about the biopic of him that was apparently about to be in the works, but he pushed through it. “Date of birth?”
“Sextaugber 11th,” Chorus quickly spat the answer, wanting to get back to being the interviewer. “And what’s yours?”
“Is that something your viewers would actually care to hear?” The Investigator raised an eyebrow.
“Of course,” The Quick Changer assured him. “Our viewers are so starved for new Fiend content that they’d take interest in even a minor character such as yourself. Especially since you’ve been viewed as antagonistic in the past. It’s new lore they can obsess over, and some will want to perform horoscopes and make all sorts of nonsense notions about your personality because of innocuous data.”
“I guess it is your job to know what people obsess over, even if I don’t understand it,” Tusmon shook his head with disappointment. “I was born on Trimayber 13th. And what city or town were you born in?”
“Hmph, it doesn’t exist anymore,” Chorus didn’t sound too heartbroken about it. “Was one of the many destroyed during the Drazah War. But where it used to stand would now be called Shindig.”
“Since you’re going to ask, I was born in a small town just outside Constead,” the detective got the gist of the exchange and beat Chorus to the punch. “It was also destroyed in the Drazar War, one of the very last. To the point that it seemed that if the Cosmic Boon happened just a few days earlier, our home would have been spared. But I hold no resentment in that regard. You can’t nitpick a miracle, if you can call it as such.”
“That town was never properly rebuilt, however. It was instead absorbed by Constead, becoming a generic suburb. The house I grew up in is long gone, and it’s probably better that way.”
Chorus considered his long answer for a moment and then shared their thoughts “If I didn’t know any better, detective, I’d say you’re using this as a therapy session to vent past grievances.”
“If you’re going to use me for content, I may as well get something out of it too,” Tusmon shot back. “Now then, continuing with biographical information. Do you have any immediate living relatives.”
“I’m unsure,” Chorus answered honestly. “I had a brother and a sister, and both parents were alive last time I spoke to them. But when I became an actor and began my gender fluidity, they quickly disowned me, and we’ve had no contact since. Which is odd, I’ll admit. Since I’m so rich and famous now, normally a family would try to exploit that. But I guess their hatred for who I am outweighs their greed.”
“Hmm, I guess we’re actually in a similar boat for once,” Tusmon empathized. “It was me who did the disowning, however. As soon as I received my acceptance letter into the police training academy, I dropped out of highschool and left without a word. Though I didn’t end up moving away very far at first. I’ve also had no contact since, and I’m sure all parties prefer it that way.”
“The unloved child seems to be a common trope amongst us Fiends,” Chorus huffed in amusement. “It’s almost getting stale. But there are some exceptions. The Drazahs, surprisingly, were apparently good and caring parents. And if you ever meet Ahvra’s fathers, you’ll gag on their love. The Parents Day special we did also proved that past misunderstandings and judgments can potentially be reconciled, but not all of us have that in our futures.”
“Well, I have no intention of ever reconciling with my parents,” The Investigator put that idea to bed. “I have too many other issues to solve besides old grudges that I’ve buried. Like dealing with you right now. So let’s move on. Current Address. I know that, so you don’t need to say it. Alright then—”
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“Now hold on a second, good sir,” Chorus held up a hand as if they were a traffic cop about to lay into a jaywalker. “That’s not how this works. Just because you know the answer to your question, it doesn’t mean you get to skip over mine. No jumping turns here.”
“Whatever, I’m sorry, I guess,” Tusmon rubbed the bridge of his nose, never knowing what would send a Fiend ranting or turn them aggressive. It was always something with them. “I didn’t know we were adhering to a strict turn-based interview system. Get on with it.”
“Hmm, but what should I ask?” the producer began to ponder. “Favorite trench coat brand? No, too simple. Dumbest criminal you’ve ever arrested? Eh no, better saved for a comedy special. Ah, I’ve got one. Of the current active Fiends in the world, if you could arrest any of them today and have them locked up immediately, who would it be?”
“I’m guessing if I say you for forcing me to go along with this nonsense, that won’t be an acceptable answer?” The detective grasped at the hope while attempting to make a joke.
“You’re welcome to say whatever you want,” Chorus had no problem with it. “But you’d have to deal with the consequences of what you say in front of the public. I’m sure you don’t particularly care how you’re viewed by the masses, but it doesn’t mean that it would be easily escapable. In my many years of experience, you can say something offhanded and immediately forget about it, but the world won’t.”
“Fine, then I guess I need to give you a proper answer,” Tusmon leant back in his seat, thinking on the matter. “Not long ago I would have said half of this compound, but I guess that’s changed. Getting to know many of you through this registration process, I’ve come to understand your plight, but there are still some I’d consider problematic.”
“The Drazahs would be the easy answer, but I can’t deny the stability their presence brings to certain parts of the global community. That said, the sister would obviously be my preferable candidate. I also haven’t met with Roque Personson yet, but I’m sure he would be a strong contender unless he could somehow prove me wrong otherwise.”
“But actually, no, I’m going to stick with my original answer of you, Chorus. Though not for the same reason. I personally find some of the content you produce to be morally questionable, not to mention the reprehensible methods that you use to obtain much of your footage. You’re a glorified peeper exploiting people's lives for your own amusement, and as far as I’m aware, have never shown a moment’s remorse for your action. I can only imagine an improvement in the world order from your departure.”
“Ah, such high praise. And guilty as charged,” The Quick Changer applauded him. “You’ve quite gotten the gist of me. I won’t lie and say I’m secretly doing this for altruistic reasons such as someone like Roque. The world is my sandbox and you’re all my toys, please do keep me entertained. But you’ve answered my question, so you’re free to continue, detective.”
“What is your current occupation?” Tusmon asked instantly, not leaving the window open for more bullzjik.
“I am the PR Manager and Content Producer for the Fiends For Hire, as well as a Rank 9 member,” Chorus answered professionally.
“And I am the lead detective for the Fiendish Crime Division, as well as its manager,” the man once again answered without prompt. He kept pushing, trying to speed things along now. “Have you ever been arrested, performed mandated community service, or served any sort of judiciary sentence in the past?”
“One time I was arrested at an industry party where drugs were openly present,” the producer didn’t hesitate to admit. “But I was let go when there were none found in my system. I’m curious what your answer for this will be, detective.”
“Yes, I was arrested once as well,” The Investigator answered firmly, not trying to dodge his past. “I shoplifted school supplies that my parents wouldn’t get for me, afraid that I’d fail my classes without them. I was surprised when my father actually bailed me out. Funnily enough, that was the first time he actually looked at me like I was someone he cared about, someone he was proud of. And it only made me hate him more.”
“Now then, in your own words, would you please describe how your Curse functions.”
“It lets me change clothes quickly,” The Quickchanger snickered. “Hence the name. But I’m assuming you want more. I am perpetually chained to an indestructible magic wardrobe. The wardrobe can change its size and shape to any sort of clothing storage I can imagine. If I try hard enough, multiple can exist at the same time.”
“The wardrobe scoops someone up, swallowing them alive, and then, I don’t know, magic happens, or perversion, and it strips the person inside down bare and then puts them in whatever clothes I choose. It can also apply makeup and stitch together new clothing as long as it has the materials. I feel like that’s telling enough. I’m a boutique’s worst nightmare! Now tell us about your Curse, detective. Both of them, if you please.”
Tusmon sighed and then pointed to his right, lavender eye. “This eye helps me find evidence of an active crime, whether it’s currently in progress, happened recently, or occurred twenty years ago. If there’s a trace to be found, it will point it out and correlate it to the crime.”
“And this eye,” he shifted his finger to his left, stone-blue eye, “is essentially a watered-down version of Creti Sloemin’s Curse, but it is rather limited. Basically, it compels anyone to truthfully comply with my interrogation: answer my questions or anything else that would ‘assist’ me in some way with my investigation. It will also calm them down if they’re acting aggressive or anxious, whatever makes them more compliant. It cannot fully control their actions, however, as it would for Creti or Eleen Drazah, now Drim Drazah, I suppose.”
“Now then, Chorus, how did you become a Fiend?”
“Killed my agent, he was a scumbag,” Chorus could only shrug. “I knew I was going to be leaving the industry soon, and I couldn’t stand the idea of him tormenting those that would follow me. And you, Fallacy? I’m genuinely curious.”
The man couldn’t help but sigh, his face clearly showing his remorse. “It was right after I started hunting the Drazahs, back when my obsession was rather unhealthy. I’d met with one of our criminal informants, and I didn’t like the answers he gave me. It’s not unheard of to get a bit rough with them if they’re acting dodgy or trying to get a better deal. Not saying that it’s justified or acceptable, but that’s the reality. And that day I went too far.”
“But that’s just how I became a Lesser. Becoming a Fiend, as you know, was due to killing Creti Sloemin. That was something that shouldn’t have happened. She was supposed to be captured, not killed. However, due to a bizarre clash of mentalities, while I was under the effects of her Curse, it led to me killing her. The effects also satisfied the conditions required for me to evolve into a Fiend”
“Chorus Mistrion, I hope that satisfies your curiosity,” Tusmon went from somber to serious in an instant. “And I hope you believe I have been compliant with your absurd request for this interview. I am fine with continuing it as it is with you recording it, but for your own personal privacy, I would suggest ending it here.”
“The remaining questions are less factual information, more delving into psychological tendencies and beliefs. They all of course will be stricken from the public record, so it is up to you whether you want them heard.”
“No, I do think you’re right,” Chorus was surprisingly agreeable. “While I’d be happy to dive into your psyche and mental issues, detective, I believe there are some things going on in my mind that are better kept secret. Lest we actually want to lose some viewers once they understand my true nature.”
The Quick Changer signaled to the cameras, instructing them to cut off, and then the interview continued in private. Tusmon, in interest of fairness, continued to answer the questions himself, but it became entertainment for only one.