“No, no, no, no no, no, NOOOOO! This is simply NOT good enough! Portus. Doll, darling. Dear. I believe Pyria explicitly reminded you that they must be brought in TOP condition. Really darling – how hard can it be to follow one job? We don’t have time to fix all of… this.”

A tall, red-headed woman gestured at the boy with disgust – veiny hands wildly waving in the air like leaves flittering in a storm.

“First-o’-all”.” Portus began, “Deal was simple: I bring you the product in workin’ condition, and you pay us. I brought yer garbage – ain’t nothing in the contract stipulatin’ quality control.”

The carnival – it had turned out – was well underway by the time they arrived, a fact the redheaded lady – Rosara – continuously chided the Portus about, to Aliso’s well-disguised delight.

The lot of them had been brought around to the backstages of the carnival – far from the crowds and sights. Back here, the thousand of them were thrown into lines – policed by carnival workers with batons to ensure no attempts at escape – and funneled through a small room. As he stood in line, Aliso concluded that either the room was to be their grave – unlikely, given the lack of screams and effort taken to bring them here – or they were to be swallowed by the earth – a more logical conclusion, given that no one yet returned.

Thankfully, Aliso’s limited imagination extended only to the confines of his thoughts, for instead there was a third option.

Aliso sat upon a small wooden stool inside one of the stone rooms, forced into by Portus after an attempted escape, who stood by his side like an overprotective grandfather – but truthfully that was simply the shape of his body projecting such an image upon the minds of the blind, for those that could see the sneer etched across his face would never have cast such a foolish assumption. The bastard personally oversaw Aliso entered the building – his odor filling the room and causing the lady in the room to gag slightly when she breathed.

The room was completely boxed – with a few white torches hanging on the walls to either side for lighting – made entirely of stone, with only a door behind Aliso (from whence they came) and one in front of Aliso, behind the Tall-redhead, Rosara (from where he expected to exit) – who was examining Aliso with her arms crossed. Besides Rosara were a stack of twenty or so books – haphazardly stacked in a manner so illogical Aliso was mildly impressed the tower still stood.

“Ugh, I don’t have the TIME to be dealing with you.” She clicked her tongues together in dismay. Taller even than Portus – made even taller by her red hair braided into a tight, tall topknot – Rosara stood with the air of a woman accustomed to getting what she wanted – belittling those beneath her through her simple presence. Sporting square-rimmed spectacles covering green eyes, a sharp nose, and pale white skin – she wore a green bodycon dress, adorned with gold along the edges that brought her curves out – clearly meant to distract the eyes. “If you have any issues, take it up with LaRasso, okay?” She spoke in a condescending, almost mocking tone.

Portus rolled his shoulders, his large arms flexing with the motion – causing the shine of his green scales to glint in the crystalline light. “LaRasso better have the money. Or else.” He threatened, before stalking away – thick spiny spined tail swishing about on the floor and nearly knocking a drawer over as he exited from where they came.

She scoffed. “Or else what? Honestly, the nerve of some people, humph!” Sighing heavily, she turned to the silver-haired boy. “Now then, boy, we really must do something about you! Yes yes, no time to waste!” She clapped her hands enthusiastically, poking her head out the door behind her.

“MELLY! Be a darling, come here and put a touch whiter around the eyes, those bags are visible a mile away. Call Livvy. And honey, we need him spazzed UP! Get him spazzin’!” She shouted the words out the door behind her, waited a few seconds, and then scurried away, exiting the small room as – assumably – Melly entered.

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Melly – a tall creature with two rows of three green eyes each, wearing earrings and a blue and purple dress in a similar vein to Rosara – paced over, weariness evident on her face. The eyes all simultaneously locked eyes on Aliso – leaving him squirming uncomfortably upon his short wooden throne.

“We don’t have enough people,” she complained. “I can’t be cleaning up everyone who walks through.”

Nevertheless, she got to work – as the other woman, Livvy, entered behind her. Livvy was comparatively normal-looking to her companion. Tall, brunette with skin made of steel, a mask where a face should be, and the same dress as her companion. In contrast to her appearance, however, Livvy was the far bubblier of the two, laughing moronically and cracking jokes at Aliso’s expense.

Initially, Aliso resisted fiercely as the two of them tried to strip him of his clothes – a resistance only maintained until Livvy’s blow across his jaw – steel hands leaving him stunned and defenseless (yet somehow uninjured) as the two of them tore his garments apart.

The ordeal would have been humiliating under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, his journey here had stripped him of that emotion – this was positively pleasant in comparison to some of the punishments Portus subjected him to.

They dressed him up like a doll – scrubbing the impurities from his body only to mask it with another layer of impurity – all to maintain a façade of purity.

Occasionally, Aliso twitched involuntarily, erratically, as if a cold breeze ran down his shirt, but otherwise, he remained still and silent, anger repressed – like the condemning gaze of a mother. Unfortunately, Aliso had to admit he enjoyed the mountains of make-up being applied, soothing his smoldering skin – which was no longer smoldering after some ointments Melly applied. His pale complexion – marred by dirt and grime through months of digging and journey – reappeared. Unfortunately – their efforts managed to also unearth the various scars tracked across his back – a memento of whippings of the life dealt, figuratively and literally.

Finally done cleaning his body of impurities – and then masking it over with another layer of impurity – his body finally a façade of purity. Well, save for his back – no amount of makeup could cover the brutal lashings.

Livvy brought a book forward – opening to a page and then grabbing a dress from the dressers and proffering it to Melly.

“Whatcha think!?”

Melly raised an eyebrow. “That tactic?” She glanced back at Aliso, to the dress in hand, and then back to Melly’s book, taking it in her hands as she shook her head. “No, fire in his eyes gives it away – and I don’t know who’d be looking for a fight.” She gave her metal companion a knowing glance – who laughed in return.

“Never know what kinda kinks they got, maybe they like a fighter! Like to watch him struggle!” Livvy cackled – unnerving Aliso, especially due to the muffling from the mask. Whatever they had planned for him in this dress, he didn’t think he liked it.

Melly was still staring at him – contemplative. “Fighter?” she suggested, then shook her head – braided hair swinging in the air. “Too scrawny – look at his build.” She shook her head again– this time out of frustration at having had to knock out her own suggestion. “Gonna be a helluva sell.”

“Can’t be too hard.” Livvy jumped in, hopping over and jabbing him along his arms and legs – leaving Aliso breathing heavily from the effort to control his annoyance. “Sides, its not like he got no muscles.”

“You know their crowd,” Melly replied, rolling her eyes. “If it ain't visible, it doesn’t count. What else we got?”

Livvy shrugged back. “Dunno.” She hopped away – the sound of metal bouncing off stone accompanying – found another thick tome and began rummaging through it. “What about – organ?”

Aliso was struggling to catch the nuances of the conversation. Clearly, it was a discussion involving his future, and while he was unable to quite grasp the context – he knew that whatever options were on the table, it wasn’t going to be pretty for him.

At that moment, the tall redheaded lady burst through the doors like a hurricane, heels hitting the stone floor with a piercing noise. She looked over at Aliso, then began to berate her employees.

“Why aren’t you finished?” Rosara complained, huffing slightly as she posed.

The stylists shrugged. “Can’t figure out how to sell him.” Melly said.

“The book is useless!” Livvy professed – tossing the book to the side, earning the back of her head a roundhouse slap, delivered by Rosara.

Rosara examined Aliso, sighed, and turned back to her casually bickering employees.

“Melly, darling, how has it that you manage to miss everything with three pairs of eyes? Really, darling.” She shook her head, pointing to Aliso as she looked him up and down. “Give him a midnight tank-top – as tight as you can find – and matching black pants… size three – I should think. Livvy darling, accentuate his pail skin more – I should see it glow!” She turned to leave – then spun back. “Oh – and keep the cloth thin.” She waltzed out – hips swaying as she walked.

That alarmed Aliso. Whatever she saw in him – she was damn happy about it. And that made him nervous.