After what felt like an eternity Boneyard finally let go of my hand. I slowly pulled back and fought hard against my instinct to rub her blood off something, deciding to play it cool instead. Master Controller wasn't a fidgety nervous wreck. She was in control at all times, so I had to act the part.
"Of course.......you have to prove your worth first..." the other villain said slowly.
Hope began to sprout within me, but I kept my face calm. "What do you mean?"
Boneyard chuckled. "You aren't really an....obvious fit, let us say." She lifted her arm again and it took all my resolve to remain still and unfazed as she tenderly ran her bony finger down my cheek. "Alice told us you looked as normal as can be, but....you never know with her.....I had hoped for the face under the mask to be a bit more....freakish...."
My anxiety fell considerably as she drew her hand back and it reintegrated with the lump of flesh on her arm. "A landscape of scar tissue.....or the visage of a malformed beast maybe....." She shook her head. "And your Power....very interesting....very useful....not all that revolting.....what a conundrum we have on our bones....." With a disappointed sneer, at least that was my best approximation of her expression, she slowly turned away from me.
"So, what would I have to do to qualify?" I asked, intent on doing the opposite of whatever it was.
Boneyard scratched her chin, with her actual flesh hand thank god. "The issue is.....we already welcomed an amateur into our family recently......no physical deformities......a non-horrific power........we can't just do that whenever we feel like it......but if our potential new recruit.......was a known and feared figure.....there would be no problem.....I don't think......"
To my great displeasure, she turned back to face me, but not by turning around all at once. With a sickening crack, her head came first, followed by her torso and then, I assume, her legs, though due to her robe, I was thankfully only able to hear the unfortunate contortion. But besides that, the seed of hope inside was already about to bloom.
"You are doing well already.....a bit more notoriety.....then we'll talk....."
YES!!! Finally! Something going right for a change!
"I'll do my best." To stay away from the limelight and live backstage forever.
"Good.....that's the least we should......be able to expect......" And just like that the conversation seemed to be over.
".....You can go away now...." she mumbled with a dismissive wave and walked back to where she had been previously standing.
I was a bit peeved at that. I didn't want to join them, but they clearly did. A bit of basic politeness went a long way to make someone feel welcome.
Not that I'd ever say that to her face though.
No matter. I focused back on my small chance victory and let a tiny smile escape my lips.
"How can I contact you when I'm ready? Do you want my number?" Two last questions to help sell my interest.
".....Oh.....don't worry about it......" Boneyard said without turning back. "You don't have to do anything. When you're ready......we'll find you."
-----------------------------------------
The next few hours were a chore. Nothing for me to do but watch deranged lunatics create their "art". Not that I hated art in general. Sure, usually art museums were incredibly boring to me, but paranatural art, in particular, was pretty cool. Sometimes. Occasionally. Moving paintings, talking statues, there was even a mirror that showed you how you would potentially look in any manner of alternate universes. But even with these art pieces I had never felt the want or need to actually watch them be created.
After a couple of hours of scrolling through random videos on my phone I was ripped from my boredom-induced fugue state at last.
"MC!!! MC!" Jess grabbed my hand and just began rambling. "Ya will never believe who I just met! I couldn't wait to come tell ya! No, show ya! I....."
"Hey, hey, calm down." I attempted as the clearly overexcited girl began dragging me along by the hand. "Take a deep breath. Start from the beginning."
To my surprise, she actually did take a deep breath, but it was of little help.
"Aight, look. Ya know how I was supposed to help move some stuff for one of artman's potential allies or whatever?" I nodded. It was somewhat challenging for me to follow her train of thought all the way due to just how fast she was spewing out words.
"Well, there I was, expecting nothing really when they bring me to some kinda broken down ugly-ass building, probs condemned or something, whatever, the important part is I go in, low expectations, no expectations really, when I see him! And I have to do a double, nah, triple take at first cause I must be dreamin, right? But no! He was actually there! In the flesh! I was like..."
I pressed my index finger against her lips to shush her. It worked surprisingly well.
"Slow down, girl. Before you go on, I think it might be pertinent to know who you have seen exactly, okay? Does that make sense?"
She rapidly moved her head up and down.
"I mean....." she began and stopped in her tracks, seeming somehow even giddier than before. "Now that we're here ya can see for yourself." She let go of my hand, grabbed me by the shoulders, deftly and elegantly swapped our positions, and pushed me in front of her.
The area Jess had pulled me to seemed to be marginally tidier than the rest of the hideout, bar Souto's room. The person Jess was so gung-ho about was standing near a table, looking intently at a still-life painting on the wall.
I admit I had been somewhat skeptical the entire way over. I liked Jess a lot, but she had a tendency to get overexcited when she saw something, anything, that struck her fancy. But this time, I understood.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The man was tall and lanky, his head nearly hitting the ceiling. His outfit had stayed the same ever since his debut decades ago, and what an outfit it was. His suit looked to be finely tailored, however that was the only consistent thing about it. One second it looked a deep midnight blue, but move your head just a little bit and suddenly it shone a brilliant gold, or a fiery red.
His white gloves stayed the same color no matter what, though you couldn't say that about their structure. Depending on your position he may appear to have as little as three fingers per hand or as much as sixteen. His variable appearance made his early reports seem more like an urban legend than an actual villain, which no doubt aided in his staggering rise in popularity.
The cape he wore was especially interesting. The outside was nothing special, but the inner lining....it didn't seem to have any. Looking at him from the front almost made it seem like he was standing in front of a tear in reality. Within the black void the distant glimmer of stars was visible, with the occasional comet racing by. While clothes with moving logos or pictures were common, if expensive, the effect of actual depth from any and all angles was out of reach even for Mage-owned clothing manufacturers.
The most striking part of his appearance however was his mask. Not due to its looks, it seemed like a fairly average, grinning theater mask. Moreso because of its....anomalous properties. The top half of his face was completely covered, but it became narrower as it went down, leaving the edges of his actual lips visible behind the painted mouth.
"The Odd Gentleman...." I breathed.
"Pretty cool, right?" my partner squealed into my ear.
I had heard of him, of course, but I never met him face to face. Honeybadger and I were day-patrollers, only working nights for special targeted missions, while the Odd Gentleman was exclusively active at night. Still, his reputation preceded him. I didn't really feel threatened or intimidated by him, after all, he had a body count of 0, but being in the presence of someone this prolific was still a bit awe-inducing.
I watched as he apparently got his fill of art for the moment and went to sit down when he noticed us. I wasn't sure what happened next. Just now he was halfway on the chair at the backend of the room. Then I blinked.
"Aaaaah!" I hurriedly stumbled backward when I opened my eyes and looked directly into the painted-on moon-like slits of the gentleman's mask. It did not appear to have holes for the wearer to look through. Just plain wood.
"Good to see you again, dear. You really helped me out of quite the pickle, I must say."
His voice was deep. Too deep to be natural. However, that was not what interested me. It seemed like the reports had been true after all. While he spoke, it was not his mouth that moved. The wooden maw of the mask tore itself open with every syllable uttered, revealing long, sharp teeth and a deep blue oddly spade-shaped tongue in a space that had no room to exist.
"And this must be the friend you told me so much about. The Master Controller, did I remember that right?"
"Uhhh, yeah..." I muttered while Jess nodded profusely and shook his eight-fingered hand. It felt strange.
"Come along, come along, let's have some tea. Every meeting is better with tea." Before I had a chance to answer or even let go of his hand I found myself sitting at the table opposite the Odd Gentleman. I looked around to get my bearings and spotted Jess, who had been left behind, hurrying over, and the villain in front of me fiddling with the combination lock of a previously nonexistent briefcase.
Once he finally got it open he pulled out three nicely decorated teacups as well as the most ornate teapot I had ever seen. At this point, I decided to stop thinking too hard and just go with the flow.
I looked down at the brown liquid he had poured into my cup and was about to drink when I saw my reflection wink at me. Oh boy. Jess didn't seem to have any problems, already done with hers and grateful about it.
The man himself......I didn't know what to think. He had poured himself a cup too, of course, and had brought it up to his actual lips, calmly sipping his drink like a true gentleman. Meanwhile, his other hand had lifted the whole entire pot to the mouth of his mask, which had split open to greedily accept the liquid that was poured down its impossible throat.
.
Mallory would never in a million years even think about drinking whatever this stuff was. But would the Master Controller?
................
Damn. She probably would, wouldn't she?
With a shrug, and after thoroughly steeling my nerves I gulped the brew down in one sip. The taste was....strange.
Not sweet, but not bitter, either, at least at first.
It reminded me of the stew my mom used to make whenever I wasn't feeling well.
At the same time, it had a hint of ramen, especially Ryorinaga brand instant ramen, which was my lifeblood during my first year as a newbie hero-in-training.
The last faint flavor was tiramisu. A particular kind. Honey used to make it for me on special occasions, and sometimes just to surprise me. It was my favorite dessert, and she tried her best, but it never tasted quite right. Still, hers was my favorite.
An odd mix of happiness, serenity and longing flooded my veins, spreading all throughout my body.
"Oh, tearing up already? You must really love this blend." The Odd Gentleman's deep voice brought me back to reality.
I hurriedly dried my eyes and handed him the now-empty cup.
"Yeah....yeah, it was quite good."
He wiped the wet spots off his mask with a handkerchief before packing everything back in the briefcase. "Nostalgia is my favorite flavor too. It packs quite the punch."
"Do you have anything else up your sleeve?" Now that my trepidation proved to be overblown, I was a lot more open to the A-lister's tricks and gimmicks.
He clicked the briefcase closed, and entered a different combination into the lock. Just like that, it sprung open again. This time, instead of refreshments he pulled out a deck of cards.
"I can give you a reading if you like. Free of charge."
"Ohhh, ya should do it. He did one for me too. It's so cool!" Jess bounced up and down on her feet as she whispered into my ear. I found her fangirlism pretty endearing, but...
"No thanks. It's not really my style."
I had assumed something like that was coming. Tarot cards were his main shtick after all. According to his victims he had a unique deck with his own set of 21 arcana. I glanced down. The only visible card, the one at the top of the stack, portrayed a hooded figure standing amid a ruined metropolis. I was pretty sure the art style tried to evoke the stained glass murals often found in churches. At the bottom, I could read XI - The Prophet.
"So I take it you believe in fate then?"
A deep affirming chuckle rang out. "Of course I do. But most people have the wrong idea about Fate. It is not a force or an all-encompassing field, or an omnipresent facet of our reality."
"Then what is it?"
"Fate is a person. A material being, like you and me and me. Believers blame Fate for their troubles or praise her for their fortune, but they do not realize how conceited they really are. Fate can't pay attention to everyone. She picks and chooses who to spend her time on. Those she loves. Those she hates. Those she finds interesting and those who make her laugh. Only a select few are chosen by fate."
I found myself actually enjoying this little experience. I didn't share his beliefs but I had fun entertaining them.
"Let me guess. You are one of those few?"
Both his wooden and his actual mouth widened into a toothy grin.
"Of course. Fate loves me dearly. All my successes are due to her favor. Here, look." He plunged his arm back into his briefcase, up to his elbow this time, and returned with another card. It was glowing in a dim blue shimmer, the illustration in the same style as the others.
It depicted him, the Odd Gentleman, about to remove his mask. The text at the bottom read The Joker of Hearts.
"This card proves my lady's love. Do you want to try it? To know if you are aided by Fate? Or maybe hindered?" He put it down in front of me.
As soon as he was no longer in direct contact with it the meticulously arranged design disappeared as if crumbling into dust, leaving a blank empty card. "If Fate has an interest in you, she will let you know."
I hesitated, not really sure why, before turning to Jess.
"You want to try first?"
She almost vibrated with excitement. I smiled, despite myself. "Can I?"
The Odd Gentleman nodded. "Please."
As impatient as ever she snatched up her prize and stared at it intently.
"And?" I asked, nudging her lightly in the side.
She let it plop back onto the table with a sigh. "Nothin'. Figures." Indeed, the face remained blank.
"My turn, I guess."
Unlike Jess, I didn't pick the card up. Instead, I softly pressed my finger against its cool surface. Both Jess and the gentleman leaned over to observe any and all changes.
................
"Nothing. How disappointing." A strange feeling of relief washed over me. I didn't know where it came from, but it was strong enough that it took me almost half a minute to clock that the voice that had just spoken was entirely unfamiliar. I looked up and quickly noticed why. The one who spoke this time had not been the mask. It was the man himself. "Still." The deep voice was back, both talking at once, until the real mouth slipped back into silence. "As a thank you for sharing a nice cup of tea with me, let me give you some advice."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm all ears."
He shook his head slowly. "No, no, no. Not my advice. Fate's." He put all of his cards back in his briefcase and pulled something else out before closing it. His shut, four-fingered fist came to a stop before me, and I held mine open underneath. Something light and round fell into my palm.
It was a fortune cookie.
"I gave one to dear Witchling too. Just think about something and pull out the note. But beware, it spoils in exactly seven days."
I looked at it and began to wrack my brain, before stopping myself abruptly.
Mallory is a worrywart.
Mallory is anxious and afraid.
The Master Controller knows what she wants. The Master Controller lives in the moment.
My mind was made up. Without giving it much thought I pulled my fortune from the cookie.
"Interesting." the mask bellowed gleefully. "You are the first one I gave this gift to to draw the fortune on the spot.
"Awww man, I was gonna suggest we open ours together..." Jess pouted.
The thin slip of paper was empty until line by line two words slowly faded in.
Antonio Freeman
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked the twice-grinning man in front of me.
"Maybe it's the guy of your dreams." Jess joked. "Or maybe ya gotta kill him to finally realize your deep angsty quest for vengeance. Or he is the final key you need to realize your plan for world domination."
"Maybe. I do not know how to interpret a stranger's fortune. All I can tell you is that you should keep that name in mind. You'll regret it if you don't."
As Jess continued to regale me with her myriad theories of what it all could mean, I stared at the name in my hand.
Antonio Freeman, huh?
I balled the slip-up and shoved it in my pocket.
What a load of rubbish.