Trip didn’t know if he wanted to date her or be her.

She was a supervisor while he was a hole attendant. Her name was Thella. Never got her last name but that fit her aesthetic, you know? So based in anonymity, a snug little suggestion of the unknown.

A black bar that hovered above her eyes, some hot fashion trend from Deligosia. A gray jumpsuit that wasn’t trying to flatter, a work uniform she made into her own. And yet it was her hair that Trip couldn’t stop thinking about. She spent so much time on her hair, coiffed, lush, and always a different color. Anytime she was late that was the go to joke. “Oh, Thella, had to run out and get another can of conditioner?” What surprised Trip was she never found the joke funny, no matter how good his delivery was.

Days with her on duty were always tolerable. There was nothing to fear thanks to her Remark, and she always killed aberrations with a smile.

”You’re not even a Legacy member?” he asked her the first time, mouth agape at how easily she had just killed a towering aberration.

“Nope. That's not where true strength lies,” she said, covertly tucking the severed head of the monster in a bag. “You’ll find it through killing.”

Hailien was there sometimes. Every few days she would appear and talk with Thella or one of the other supervisors. The brute was always in a dour mood when she left, and Trip developed a dislike for her without sharing a single word.

”She’s constantly trying to recruit.” Thella hocked a loogie. “We keep the wall clean, and in return they try to steal our best employees, it’s pathetic.” She ruffled his hair. “This job might not be great, but it beats dying.”

The contrarian in him wanted to disagree, that for most of them death and the job would prove to be synonymous. But he liked the way her fingers coursed through his hair too much to argue.

On his last day, Trip arrived late. There was no real reason for it. A bad feeling coupled with a lack of sleep the night before. Some new dream about being trapped in a giant drum.

He skirted under the barrier after punching in, the guy who was supposed to lift it was either asleep or absent.

Stepping into the break room, the red clay walls were dark with blood but no bodies. He drew his Remark. It was only a few inches and its Trick was undeveloped, but better that than nothing.

“Thella?” His hand glid across the smooth surface of the wall as the wind whispered, it kept him centered. He went up a level on the scaffolding and there was Thella. Her hair was lavender purple today.

Big smile, ushering him forward with a nod, hands behind her back. He had to ask.

“Thella, what's going on?”

She shushed him and pointed at hole 57A. It hadn’t been half as large last shift. Something orange and viscous was pooled around her feet, streaming out from the hole.

“You’re gonna wanna see this.”

It took his eyes a second to adjust. There was something squatting in the hole, undulating as it made inane noises.

Heads, multiple heads. Heads supported on necks made of hands. A spine crest made of ears. Nails made of noses. It was massive, even a hole as big as this was positively cramped for the thing. It chewed noisily on a body.

“That’s an aberration.”

Her strong arms gripped his shoulders. Whatever shape her face took made a audible crack, he dared not turn around to see how. “No, it’s something better than an aberration. It’s a guard dog.”

The multiple heads continued to chow down. Behind it he saw people huddled together. His coworkers, still alive.

”This thing will do our job for us; it kills everything, it’s as strong as a nest of abbies, and it’s under my control.” Her hands carved into his shoulders. He was paralyzed.

The guard dog lulled a lazy head towards his coworkers. One of them tried to run and was snatched up in the mouth. Teeth the size of wooden poles clamped down and it wasn’t a man anymore, just meat.

”We need to save them.”

”No, nooooo,” she said, moving nimble fingers to his neck. Another crack. “We don’t need them anymoreeee; the guard dog makes them irrelevant. Best they can do is serveeeee as a snack.”

Why was she talking like that? Was she trying to be funny? He looked at the others, alive but terrified. He didn’t know their names. That was fucking awful, they didn’t deserve to die anonymous.

She turned him towards her. Her smile was all wrong, too many angles, the whites of her eyes bulging behind her black head ware, now a deep purple to match her hair.

He asked her why she was doing this. Did something happen, was she driven insane, had her mind been taken over?

Thella laughed and laughed. “Oh you sweeeeeet idiot, nothing’s changed. this is just the typeeeee of person I am. I’ve alllllways been like this, and I’ve neverrrrrrr tried to hide it.”

And with little effort she pushed him to the ground. He hit the clay hard and his throat hitched. Something broke.

The guard dog emerged from the hole, tanned and tangled. It was disturbingly apparent there was no one source for its body, this was created piecemeal. Faces and flesh mashed together and not in a way that made sense.

She walked into view with the confidence of a proud parent, leaning her body against the disturbingly vascular flesh and looking happier than Trip had ever seen her. (he wanted to cry)

“In this way I worship Death, in this way I justify my life. I think I’d like a private dance. Yes. I think I’d like a private danceeeeee.”

There was a snap so loud it made Trip’s eardrums burst. Not from Thella.

From the direction of the sound came an overly muscled brute. Hailien. Harsh skin and cool metal. She gripped Thella’s face and redirected her attention to the ground. Thella’s head hit and her face cracked open like an egg. The yolk had gone bad.

The guard dog was killed, messier than Thella’s death for sure, but Trip was wiping off the blood and generally just, generally just not there.

He took out his punchcard. Time to leave.

He walked back to the entrance, the sound of steel was quieter there.

It was good, it was all good. He had to get home, he had to wash off the blood. But first he had to clock out, he didn’t want to commit time theft, he was already late, what would Thella say?

Had he clocked in? It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter.

Oops. His fingers were heavy, he couldn’t get the card into the slot. Clumsy. Not like him. Was it the blood? Was there another punchcard he could use? The room tipped to the left and he lost the will to stand as the punch card slipped from his grasp. What would he do if he couldn’t punch out?

Hailien was there, covered in orange blood. She picked up the card, stamped something onto it, and handed it back to him. Behind her in a huddle were his workmates, the ones whose names he did not know.

”Get up.” She said, “You’re never working here again.”

…

“It’s your move man, we can’t start until you say so,” David said. Courteous for a guy using his own organs as weapons. Who said chivalry was dead?

Trip was staring off into space. He had mastered the art of looking smart and ponderous, even when disassociating. In his mind's eye was Thella and she was the crowd roaring at him. Not to mention the black sea below them. What would she think if she saw him now?

As if David was interrupting something more important, Trip sighed and turned slowly, with his hands tight behind his back, Remark grasped firmly. “I can’t say it’s smart, but it’s a daring choice to kill yourself before the fight has even started.”

”What?”

The raucous crowd simmered down, unsure how to respond. His own corner cheered, he was playing it like the time he talked that pirate captain into fleeing, being so obtuse the only smart option was to disengage.

“I don’t think I need to explain.” He made a gesture like tossing dice and pointed at his opponent's Remark, an organ in the shape of a weapon he had pulled out of his stomach. “You have an open wound and are holding an organ of, I assume, some importance. I’m not sure if you know this, but thats gonna be fatal 10 times out of 9.”

“Woo!!”, cheered Dive.

”Fuck him up Trip!”, Devon yelled.

The man’s complexion darkened as he narrowed his eyes. “This is my Remark, fucker. You know what tricks are. Right? Right??”

Of course he did, but, he thought, lets explain it for those in the back.

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“How, exactly, is wounding yourself a Trick? Really it seems like you’re doing me a favor. Unorthodox, certainly, but it takes all kinds.”

He knew his smarmy attitude was hitting when he annoyed himself.

”Shut up. Here’s my Remark.” He gestured to the semi translucent substance that sparkled in his wound. “They’re not always swords or clubs, especially if you know what you’re doing. Bet someone like you couldn’t even fathom the depths of what’s truly possible.”

”Hmm, maybe.” Esoteric crawl shit. He cocked his head, glasses falling to the edge of his nose. “I bet that I’ll surprise you with a Trick of my own.”

”Hah! Yeah sure, if you think so kid.” David said, raising an eyebrow for the audience’s benefit. Trip had him.

“Before we begin, let me introduce my Trick”, Trip said. He bought out his Remark and showed it to the crowd. “I can define one rule of this duel that we both must abide by.”

”I don’t agree to that,” David said.

”It doesn’t matter” He took his glasses off to polish them, averting his gaze to keep up the mystique. “Neither of us can push the other into the water, that's the rule.”

David picked a scab with his weapon as the crowd threw garbage. “Eh, and what if I do?”

Trip wagged a finger. “By the rules of my Remark you’ll be unable to move for five minutes.”

David sauntered forward, his weapon dangling like the corpses high above. “Okay then, you done?”, his left pupil lost step with the right, veering downwards. “If not, I’m past caring.”

The duel had commenced.

David wielded his organ weapon like a cane, thrusting it forward and readjusted his grip to pull it upwards in an arc, the goo of his Remark glistened and flew off in patterns. Trip was not skilled when it came to blocking. He conceded the ground strike after strike, keeping his Remark close to his face and moving to the right, that way David couldn’t pin him to the wall.

And then Trip got nasty. David thrusted again aiming for his eye. Trip ducked it by moving forward and idly swiping, but what he was really after was a rotten drabbage fruit thrown from the crowd that had fallen at his feet. He shoved the fruit straight in David’s eye.

His opponent groaned, wiping the bright pink juice off in a weighty fashion, hand gripping flesh and nails raking at the skin. He was down a hand then, and Trip took the opportunity to win the match, then and there.

For every thrust Trip hit back three times. He had a rhythm going now. David’s back was to the edge now. There wasn’t a railing there, it had been taken out during the initial attack. Trip would have to be careful here, him winning this fight hinged on the next few moments.

With a heavy slap David sent Trip wheeling backwards, hitting the ground at the price of his pride.

David stood point at the edge and urged Trip forward. “Come on buddy, you still have a chance.”

He looked down below, whistling at the water Trip couldn’t see. “Gehenna weather down below, but I bet I could get back up with time to spare.”

Trip was at him with hatred. Remark in the cheek, drawing blood but more a way to get the attention off the other hand as he kept David at the edge. He had no strength advantage, but he did have surprise on his side.

“Wait, what are you-“ David grabbed his shoulder but there was no real power behind it, no threat to Trip’s plan.

“I’m pushing you in of course.” The shock combined with how straight up stupid of a strategy this was was enough to send David over the edge.

David hit the water like a dumped singwhale carcass, breaching a minute later spitting out salt water.

Trip sat on the edge, legs swaying. “Remember that bet we made, that you didn’t think I’d be able to surprise you? Well guess what! That was never my trick, this is”

David froze up, the trigger word said and the conditions met. His eyebrow raised, mouth pursed into a pucker, about to yell most likely. He sank to the bottom with that expression in place as the goo of his Remark covered his face.

Trip didn’t know how long a person could survive underwater. Definitely shorter than five minutes though. Ought to be.

He thought about Thella some more.

…

”Why didn’t he focus on desummoning his opponents Remark? The fight would be over in seconds.”

“Eh, he wanted to feed his ego a bit”, Devon said, deep into a crow pose. Adam had taught her all sorts of fun exercises, what he called calisthenic holds, all Remark users were well versed, or atleast used to be.

It gave her an outlet for her constant energy that wasn’t punching holes in the ship's carapace, something Adam was very happy with.

“He stated clearly that his Remark was a sort of amniotic fluid. By getting him to lose his concentration, there would have been nothing protecting his organs.”

“Oh”, she shifted her weight and leaned further into the pose. “I didn’t notice.”

“It’s fascinating, the way he uses his Remark makes him vulnerable as soon as he summons it. Surely he’s aware of the danger that puts him in, I wonder why he would… hmm”, Adam hummed, his little glass body wiggled. “His Remark signature is still active by the way, he must have incredibly robust lungs to still be alive down there.”

The others had all rushed Trip and given him a hero's welcome, hoisting him up and parading him on their shoulders as their future opponents watched. The crowd continued showering them with half eaten foodstuffs.

Even Tremble was involved, though only on the margins, trying to say she was a part of it by holding up one of his boots by the fingernails. Only Stumble stayed behind, muttering to herself and staring at her hands. Devon wasn’t an authority on Stumble or how normal this was for her.

The crowd quieted down, the steam of food slowly coming to a stop. One with bright red hair and a mustache to match even mimed checking a non existent watch. It struck her as odd they weren’t rioting. Their guy had lost, where was the anger?

“We should consider escaping now.”

“Why?”, she was having fun here and they were winning. She wanted a chance to fight 139 before the day was over. “Scared that we’ll lose?”

”Yes, considering the Remark signature of Trips opponent has yet to go out.”

Information potent enough to shake her arms, but not enough to make her break her pose. She had been holding it for six minutes and by Grand she was not going to let the news that they may be fucked break it. “It’s been five minutes, he got frozen by Trip. Look, they’re celebrating, and people only celebrate when they have reason to. It’s the law.”

With a thud, David beached himself on the deck.

That sticky… nomonic (“amniotic, Devon”) was crawling all over him, moving at a different rate. It was like holding an object close to your eyes and making it match in size with something much farther away (“the word you’re looking for is superimposed, Devon”)

“It seems he protected himself with his amniotic fluid underwater.”

“I can see that”

She got out of her pose and moved cautiously towards him, Adam drawn. The others hadn’t noticed yet, they were convinced the sudden cheers of the crowd were for their benefit. It was a low key return. A gooey arm raised a fist to the crowd as David nodded to his team mates. I just survived being frozen in open water for five minutes, his body said, no biggie!

David unzipped another scar, pulling out two battle axe shaped lungs he wielded like organs.

“Hey party boy”, David said. “Ready to finish?”

”Oh shi-“, now they noticed.

Making like their namesake, the Fall Collective toppled and scrambled, leaving Trip in masse like a insect colony bound for riper pastures. He was alone now, looking up at his opponent. His cool demeanor, gone. His cocky smile, never there. He got up on shaky legs and drew his Remark. “I… I Bet that you won’t-“

A kick to the face, followed by two quick horizontal slashes that tore Trips stomach. The crowd was ecstatic, demanding him to show even less mercy. Trip's defense was to run away and endlessly reposition his Remark, switching from one hand to the other like a chef handling hot food.

”He needs to recover”, Devon said. She gripped her legs, pinching sore muscles and trying to control the urge to finish the fight herself.

”Destabilize the other’s Remark. Thats the key. It’s so obvious, why is no one else- express to him that it’s quickly becoming the only option left.”

Blood streaming down his face, his once clean uniform were dark red tatters. Trip was in no shape to hear anyone out. Still she had to try.

“Trip! Get rid of his Remark.”

”You mean throw it?”, he had climbed up the mast, clutching a nasty head wound while David threw cheap shots at his heels. A few more decent hits and the mast would be down, Trips options limited to a fair fight he was in no shape for. “Like into the sea? How the fuck do I do that?” He seemed to have forgotten the Remark was the fluid, and not the lung axes.

”If he loses, we can take the loss”, Hailien muttered, her arms crossed and expression unreadable.

”Captain… I don’t want Trip to die”, Dive said.

”Can’t we do something?”, Plunge asked.

With gusto, Collapse signed something aggressively. Devon wished she knew sign language.

Tremble walked up like she was universally beloved. With her arms spread wide she tilted her head and gave a smile filled with teeth. “Don’t worry new friends and former adversaries, I understand and speak the language wars are won in. Observe.”

”Oh no.”

With unnecessary speed Tremble pounced on David. The crowd went quiet like an orderly evacuation, leaving more space in the air for the screams that followed.

His Remark outer coating withered at her touch and was soon gone. His organs bubbled up like a geyser and evacuated his body. He was dead within seconds but he kept shaking long after the novelty had worn off.

She curtsied to the crowd calling for her death. Hailien tackled her and brought her back kicking and screaming to their corner. Trip slid down from the mast in a daze, comforted by Collapse who lead him back.

”Illegal interference” 139 said, “The Numbers have forfeited this round.” A corpse fell. Now there were only two. She held her gloved hand inches from the other two ropes, and then she cut another one. The crowd reacted like she had killed a Death Wyrm.

”After deferring to those who I have devoured and gained the souls of, it’s clear there must be an additional penalty. Therefore, the first corpse was for losing, and the second was for breaking the sanctity of single combat.”

“This is bad, we should try and sneak out. Three straight wins with no room for error, we can’t do that.”

“I can do it”, Devon said. “You know I can.”

She stepped forward to volunteer. She’d take the heat off everyone else and wipe the floor with the rest of the idiots. They’d be out of here in minutes.

“The next match will be between the one who interfered against an opponent of the other team's choice.”

Tremble ran past her, cheeks flushed with pride. She blew kisses to the crowd as she took a stance and her hands became claws. “A thousand pardons to whom I’m about to kill. Let it lighten your offspring's heart that your demise will be worthy of tales told for centuries to come!”

Adam was right. She should have killed her when she had the chance.