Description: One Naeght in Bangkok and the world's your oyster. The bars are temples, but the pearls ain't free. You'll find a god in every golden cloister. And if you're lucky? Then the god's Jezebel. I can feel a dragon sliding up to me.
It was just the kitchen.
It wasn't a small resteraunt; far from it. It was actually one of the ritzier ones down in Bangkok, if not the ritziest. It was, in fact, closed to the general public right now, so it had even less of a reason to be any focus on it. But there was a reason why we're here right now, right in this hot Bangkok night. Because one of the waiting staff was standing fast, catching his breath. Just long enough for his boss to stride up, and slap him on the back of the head. "Do I pay you to wait?" The boy stumbles, and nods. "Well actually-"
And then another slap to the head come.
"So you're smart now, huh!" The boss was also catching his breath right now, but because he's in charge, it's discplining who was also doing that. Around them, the kitchen stoves were blazing, the cooks were in full force. It was hot, unbearably hot, even with the climate control in place. Waiting staff was rushing around them, dropping off plates and platters only to be seizing new ones on the way out. The waiter waiting for himself, however, continues to talk. "Why are we going nuts right now? Nobody's that important!" The boss shakes his head. "Don't you know who's out there? It's Jezebel!" The waiter rolls his eyes. "So, the washed up actress?" The boss shakes his head, looking gravely at the waiter. "You don't understand."
"She's Jezebel from -Shadaloo-"
Out inside the actual dining area of the place was decadence. All the tables were dragged together into a singular central table, done in a square. The chairs didn't matter, there was only two that were needed, both of them next to each other. The place was officially closed for a private event. Musicians and dancers are in ceramonial garb, weaving around the tables as their music plays. Silks and songs swim, all in the traditional Siamese ways. But this wasn't tradition, no. This was for one thing.
Rich, oil-soaked dishes of crab and prawns are heaped and mingled with soy, cabbage, and coconut milk. Rice, endless rice is piled high in both grain and noodle. Silver platters are brought in cycles, stacked with fishs. Cakes come in, some short, some tall, some wide, some narrow. Seven different curries were arranged into a rainbow of color, a silver ladle in each of them. Fresh fish, grilled and stuffed with leeks and bean spouts are spread out upon each table as the center piece. The definition of salad is brought to logical extremes, as every combination of vegetable, noodle, and meat is mingled together into mad experiments from the chefs themselves.
And it does not stop there.
Desserts were almost required. On the confectionary side of things, the bakers were in full force. For a more natural taste was the endless fruit. Whole Durians, sliced upon to pungent effect were away from the lighter fair of papayas, pomelos, pineapples, and mangos. Special coconut flans were heaped up. And to drink, a cornocopia of refreshments, ranging from exotic mixed drinks of a dozen liquors to a variety of teas, hot and cold, to humble water with pieces of cucumber in them. The tapestry of food was unfolded before them.
And it was only them.
There was only two places to sit at this table. The first was at the helm, where Nightmare Spangles was sitting amongst this orgy of gluttony. The woman known as Jezebel by most of the world was dressed in a twisted image of her old Lightning Spangles costume. The jeans were there, but there was no cowgirl top. Only a black, sleeveless tank-top. She didn't have her black skull hankerchief on her face, but around her neck as a napkin. She wasn't eating though. No, she was watching someone else eat, eagerly. Because the other place to sit?
That was for her Fishy Friend.
Right at her side.
Right at her best friend's side.
In the last place these two were, Jezebel Nightmare Spangles, opened a crate containing what can only be described as a mummy from antiquity. That mummy was actually Naerose, the dust-brown witch and an assortment of ancient clothing and candy and mice which didn't make it this far. Faster forward to now and the witch is decidedly less dusty, but still a far cry from what someone might call acceptable for this level of restaurant. She was still looking kind of filthy. Her face though not covered with a foundation of dust, still had smudges that would probably take actual effort to get off. Her hair, which is usually red, still had splotches that gave it a brunette look. Her dress is probably supposed to be red, but also carried the splotchy look and the red had none of the vividness you might expect with a person calling themselves the 'Red Witch'. Actually right now she might call herself the dust witch.
The wait staff, accustomed no doubt to a higher level of clientele would probably clean the chair and the table and anything the woman touched given her leaving behind the occasional random bits of dust still. However anyplace that caters to the kind of hoodlums Shadaloo employees is no doubt used to the occasional business trashing. At least this woman wasn't likely to cause that sort of problem, at least she didn't seem to have that thug demeanor, though there was a certain aloof disregard.
The most striking aspect of the dust witch right now was her hat, still a witches hat but at the moment it was the least clean part of her. Having collected parts of the crate she was just in not long ago, it had four different wooden planks sticking out of it, resembling arms. Somewhere along the way here it collected a glowing ember. Funny story actually, a fellow smoking from a balcony ashed over the side and some landed perfectly on her hat to resemble an eye as it took its time burning a hole into whatever else the hat collected. From the rodents that had made their home in the hat here and there it also collected a mane of black hair of it's own, somewhat shaggy and last but certainly not least, a huge gaping maw! Yes the hat had a mouth of its own, or it was creased in just the right way to look like a mouth, but Naerose, whom also noticed, was feeding her hat in intervals of feeding herself.
"And some for me" NOMNONOM, "And some for you" NOMNOM.
Surely the hat eating the food is just a trick of her head wobbling, but whatever the trick, she is clearly trying to feed her hat. Also playing with her food. Yes much playing with her food.
However the expensive dishes, masterfully crafted and arranged were when they came out, now she had, like the juvenile whom is bored waiting at a restaurant would do, Naerose has turned all the eating utensils that came near her into a tower, the plates had become walls and whenever asked, "Can I take that ma'am," She would smile big and creepy and say, "Noooo." And that was the end of that. Not that the food was safe either, instead of eating the wonderful delights, she would combine them, make giant monsters of food (ruining the carefully crafted culinary mastery) before gobbling it together as a huge mash.
"Wow this is great umm." Naerose adjusts her shades and looks at Jezebel, "Jez." She decides on the most appropriate and not even remotely sounding dirty nickname she can come up with.
Walter isn't out here for a meal. No, he's in Bangkok for a local charity tournament, as he often is. There's also a local church in need of a mercenary pastor, and Walter knows enough spatterings of various asian languages to assemble a semi-coherent pastoral ranting.
Not much different than his pastoral rantings in English, or any other language really. They tend to all end up pretty much the same. Passionate, but not the best orator, this priest. You can't win 'em all.
Mostly right now he's just trying to get to his hotel, by way of flying rooftop to rooftop in a glider-like fashion. The wind whips his hair, he sighs in pure delight of being able to flex his wings without being yelled at for once. Really, it's a gentle flight that ends up in he, himself, and God, a relaxing time in the air with little to bother him. Up until he gets near the Shadaloo-based restaurant. Walter is barely paying attention when danger-sense strikes, and out of instinct he does a dragon-barrel-roll in the air! A sniper shot goes off, glancing off a wing, and sending him into a hard descent towards the ground! And by ground, that means the roof of the restaurant!
Naerose and Jezebel will suddenly find a loud crashing form enter their beautiful spread of food, Walter's priest's frock swaying in the wind as wood is shattered and his body crashes through the ceiling, only to end up swaying on a lovely chandeleer up top. His frock is riped, cape shed, and wings and tail all flopped around as he lays up there. Poor Naerose might get Extra Dusty thanks to wood shards and general roof-dirtiness raining down.
"L...Lord help me where did that updraft come from!?" Yup, the poor lizard-priest has no idea why he's hanging out in a fancy restaurant, or that he was shot at. A Darkstalker's life in a nutshell.
"Hah ha ha!"
That is how Jezebel can respond. Laughing aloud. She was high off the sheer experience and presence of Naerose. It was incredible, being in the same room as Naerose. Watching her feed herself and the hat was a sensory rush that defied perceptions. She wanted to watch Naerose eat, and eat, and never stop eating. It was like feeding a child, or a baby. Except instead of either, it was an adult, a real adult woman. Making a fort around herself, just like how Jezebel always wanted but never good make one safe enough. It was perfect, it was perfection.
And she even gave Jezebel a pet name!
"Well, I'm supposed to be Nightmare Spangles, but because we are friends, Fishy Friends, you can call me Jez. Jez, Jez, Jez. I love Jez, Naerose. It's a great name!" It was the best name. Jezebel's daddy would sometimes call her Jez, especially when she was a teenger. He couldn't drive her to theater, because of that breatholizer thing in the car, but they would just leave early and walk there. Of course, that was around the time when Jezebel didn't want to see Daddy anymore. Because Daddy embarassed her in front of her friends, and made it impossible to get work. Eventually daddy wasn't around anymore to humilate Jez. ANd then, he wasn't around at all. He just would stay in the darkness, and sometimes, sometimes Jez didn't hide from his attention, and he would say, and he would say 'Hey Jez, how's school' or 'Still doing well in theater Jez?' or even 'I love you Jez, sorry I can't be there for you.'
Jezebel chokes back some tears, and she didn't know why.
"Hah ha ha! This curry... it's just so spicy." She says, as she wipes away from tears from her face. "You can call me Jez! Wow, Naerose!" She looks at the maniac creations that the woman had created. "You are an amazing artist! The greatest artist I have seen!" The dancing grows faster and faster around them, as Jezebel reaches for a mixed drink... and chooses water instead. Her face was so red. "Do you want anything else to eat? Anything different. Something they haven't given you? Anything your wish, Naerose, I can make it real." And Jezebel leans in closer to Naerose, peering into her fort."
And suddenly Walter.
Walter's arrival sends the dancing and music in disarray. Dishes clatter and fall, tables collapse, food is dirtied and corrupted and made FILTHY. Jezebel can't even percieve the wonderful fantasy around her collapsing by an intruder. She can pretend for a moment, that it wasn't falling apart. And then, it cracks. It implodes. And Jezebel was in a dirty resteraunt that was ruined and fouled and destroyed. Idly, she blinks, staring around, and then up at the figure. She narrows her eyes, the blue light of her mechanical eye burning bright. She.... she knew.... she knew....
And it clicks.
"... You're the dragon..." She begins very slowly. She remembered it. She remembered the hurricane, she remembered being alone in the hotel room. She wasn't alone, she had the body pillow of Athena, who she was holding, who she was pretending was Johnny Cage, and the hoedown dillo mask, and he was, he was supposed to. "You're the dragon... that abandoned me... at Zack Island..." "... Who said you would help.... help me... and let me... ruin myself." Jezebel grabs one of the steak knives on the table, as she looks up at Walter. "And you ruined... Fishy friend's.... food." The words were coming out slow. But Jezebel didn't look mad, no. She was simply looking at Walter.
Smiling burning on her lips.
Naerose's hat which is sorta starting to creep people out, shifts to one side as if to regard Jezebel. You can never tell what a hat is thinking, especially not this one as the creepy arm-like wooden bits also move, the creases of her hat causing two of them to cross like they were crossed arms and then her other arms (not really arms, probably) sort of open beckoningly in front of the gaping maw of a mouth. It was Sorta like Nae's hat wanted to see what Jezebel tasted like, but less in the unrated version of some old Lightening Spangles knock off movie and more like the r rated Rob Zombie flick with hat eating people action. . . Needless to say it is kind of creepy.
The leaning tower of pizza, as Naerose so cleverly called it when she said, "Oh wow, this is like a leaning tower, you know, a leaning tower of Pizza." There was no actual pizza involved in the process, considering this was an Asian restaurant, but there did seem to be an audible groan by all of the non-Jezebel people in the room, even Naerose's hat seemed to disapprove, though it would not be caught doing something so predictable and unchaotic as -groaning- at a really bad terrible pun. It's also really hard to tell if Jezebel and Naerose are even talking about the same thing. The tower however gets Waltered.
Do you remember that scene, in that movie, Spirited Away? The scene where No Face is chasing Sen and the witch shoots a fireball at it and gets totally covered in goo? Well, considering what Nae had already been doing with the food and how close she was sitting and so much for Dust witch because now, now she was back to square zero. No, square negative one, because maybe Jezebel managed to avoid some of the mess, maybe not, but Naerose avoids none of it, she practically attracts it and now there is no red to be seen, only her hat manages to avoid being completely covered.
Her hat has a response too, probably just the rush of air from a sudden flight into terrain (or dinner table) but it is taken aback, or rather cowers from further damage, or Sorta more likely just flinches back in time to get a better vantage point once Walter is laid out. As the Dust Witch leans forward to fork Walter with a piece of broken wood, her hat looms ominously over him, the burning ember eye glinting like it knows full well that he isn't part of the planned meal but fully intending on making him part of it now.
"Oh neat!" Naerose exclaims, "It's like those things I heard about once where the food is so fresh it's like it's alive! Wow, even comes with new silver-w- well wood ware." Naerose picks up one of the bits of restaurant that broke off in the crash, even as a waiter tries to warn her, the one with enough pretense of mind not to be completely dumbfounded, "Ma'am that isn'-" And it is right then that ignoring the warnings that Naerose confidentially with the confidence of someone confident that the meal she is about to eat is first, part of the meal and totally not going to have a problem with being stabbed with a wooden ... piece of shrapnel is stabbed at! With a wooden piece of shrapnel. Naerose is all about taking a big bite out of Walter.
This...this is not how Walter envisioned his day going. Suddenly there's a restaurant bit being poked at him with. Whump! Right on the chest-scales! There's a distinctly scale-on-wood sound, and likely much impromptu-fork breakage. Slowly, the dazed dragon looks up to see a looming hat, screams, and then flaps off to a semi-safe portion of the room.
Semi-safe, as Jezebel is mumbling out words of betrayal and holding a knife. The woman's draconic personal jesus raises his hands defensively, a bit fearfully, and smiles as wide as he can. His teeth are shiney and pointy in proper darkstalker fashion!
"First of all...I AM NOT FOOD!" Offers the dragon-man, scowling at Naerose! A sigh. He has a piece of restaurant himself now, vaguely spear shaped. Not held threateningly, but Just in Case. After all, Jez in particular is looking a little...off.
"I should have checked in on you more often, Jezebel, my dear. Forgive me. Just put down the knife, there is no need for violence! Tell me. What can I do to make it up to you?" Twitch. Twitch twitch. Yup, nervous dragons are nervous. His wings flap a bit as he looks to the two ladies. Then over to the waitstaff.
"...Get the ladies whatever they wish. On my tab." Wince. Step one, disarm hungry armed ladies. Step two, save souls. Step three, cry at one's suddenly empty bank account.
Was Jezebel messy?
Oh, absolutely. But does ANYBODY want to get the lurid details of how wet and messy Jezebel is? How she's covered with thick layers of cake and coconut milk? How pieces of squid tentacles were clinging to her top? How there were shrimp where shrimp should not dare? Nobody wanted that, except for a certain fan demographic on the internet (known as the Mezzy Jezzies based on the following website fangroup http://tinyurl.com/pb7q28n). So lets pretend that Jezebel isn't covered in gunge and gross, okay?
Instead, as Naerose makes the first move, Jezebel practically falls out of her chair. Walter was running, trying to be helpful, trying to avoid the wrath of two delusional women. A knife was out, and a spearlike was out as well. It was a standoff, and the staff were taking cover. This... this couldn't end well. Jezebel paces around, as soy sauce drips off her arms. Walter was afraid, but.... but he asks a question. He PLEADS to Jezebel. Put it all on his tab. Jezebel laughs a bit, before repeating it back.
"What can you do... to make it up to me?"
Jezebel tilts her head to the side. There were a hundred ways he could make it up to him, each more Pg-13 than the last. But this was for Naerose. Everything was for Naerose. And Naerose wanted HIM. The head tilted to the other side. "I think... I think Naerose wanted to have a nice, roast dragon. Drenched in orange sauce." Jezebel's own mouth was watering now, as drool runs down the side of her mouth. The pupil of her good was a pinprick. Grabbing a fork, she points both at the dragon, as she calls to the wait staff. "Seize him!" She bellows, as she seems JUST about ready to break into a noblewoman's laugh. Instead, she clears her throat.
"Erm, please, y'all?"
Meanwhile Naerose has discovered that this isn't utensil food but clearly something you're just supposed to gnaw on. Apparently the dragon is saying somethings, which is you know weird, but it must be one of those theme restaurants, so forgoing the apparently ineffective wood ware, which really why provide a wooden fork if you can't use it to stick your meal. Great dish though.
So yeah, Naerose's gaping goey maw covered in unspeakable filth that used to be on the table and maybe even used to be the table, is now just attempting to make itself one with the meal. The meal which is the dragon which is Walter. Since his scales are too hard for wooden silverware he probably feels less bitten and more sucked on like one of those aquarium cleaning fish. Naerose Fish gobbles at Walter. Also her hat totally seems to be joining in, the four wooden arms and the crease gaping maw thing (lot of gaping maws) are both also opened up on Walter. Basically the moment he pays any attention to Jezebel the true horror moves as if everything (anything) he is saying doesn't exist.
Naerose has a new dress on made of greyish goop that might have been food at one point, but now even a rat wouldn't go near. Lets leave the smell out of this, but needless to say it isn't pleasant. Spices never meant to be mixed have been mixed, oil and grease and sauce has all been turned into one solid outfit that moves with the witch and besides her face and shades, she's wearing entirely what was on the table it seems, the chic look that no cat walk had ever imagined would be worn, but today, that horror show was real.
"W...wait a minute!" Starts Walter as Jezebel laughs, scowling. This...something is wrong with Jezebel. Well, more wrong than usual. He points that length of wood at her!
"Did you miss the portion where I am not for eating! That is /cannibalism/ you know!? Miss Jezebel, that is never acceptable. Beat me bloody if you wish, but no one should eat /people/! Such is unpure and unhealthy as well!" He offers! No actual stabbing. Nope, the idiot priest has to give Jezebel a chance. After all, he still believes in her.
"Besides, I'm a bit gamey." No, he can't stop talking. Stupid dragon!
Of course, all this leaves the dragon in perfect position to be nom'd at! By hat and Nae alike! It's one thing to be nibbled on by Naerose, the smell hitting him and causing him to gag, but otherwise little worse for ware. At first, amidst coughing, he's mostly trying to gently shove her away. "Down! Down, my dear! You should ask before nibbling on someone, do you not realize how rude it is? What in the bloody...AHHH!"
And then down comes that hat, chewing on a wing and generally messing him up. Eventually, amidst a bit of scales ripped off and other bloody horror, he manages to kick out at Naerose! Falling back into a roll, he grunts, panting and generally looking a mess! Grrrrr! He lets out a wild roar, no doubt piercing some staff eardrums! Wings flap out, tail lashes, and then he raises his wooden spear!
"Bah! I see you girls have been /naughty/! Time for a punishment before I save your souls!" What is his punishment? Suddenly, golden chi gathers in that bit of wood, he leaps to the air, and unleashes with that giant stake of holy light!
Mostly to the left-and-center of the girls, trying to send them flying more than actually hurt them. And maybe cook off some of the food-based goop on Naerose. He's a helpful dragon like that.
'Bah! I see you girls have been /naughty/! Time for a punishment before I save your souls! '
Jezebel begins to laugh. It's not a good laugh. Instinctively, she moves into a defensive stance. She's heard that line before. The phrase cuts through the haze of liquor and pain and self-loathing and drugs and suffering to a distant memory. After she lost her dignity, the first time. After she lost her self-respect and self-love. Once, Walter was her savior. And now, she realizes as the words run inside her, that he wasn't. He was just like every other person who wanted to help her. Every other person, except Cracker Jack and Naerose. They were her real friends.
And she would help them.
"You're a monster, so like, it's not cannibalism." She murmurs, as she drifts a few steps to the side. "I mean, Naerose is trying to eat you, and she's innocent! She can't do anything wrong. Impure? She's the purest person that ever came on the earth. If any, I-if anything is impure, it's you and me." As the beam of light comes, she stumbles to the opposite side hard. "If Naerose wants you, then, then, I have to give you to her. She needs you. And she needs you covered in white sauce, and cooked to a golden brown. Where your skin is so soft, you can cut it with a spoon." Her mouth continues to water. It looked like that between Naerose, the Hat, and Jezebel, Walter had three nightmares to choose from. The question was:
Which one was the scariest?
Turns out, being covered in goop makes basic actions really hard. Picking stuff up for instance is hard when everything is slippery. Holding things is nearly impossible, holding onto the dragon is harder still. Luckily it also makes it really hard to kick her, or at least for her to feel it, gross food goop apparently makes better than no armor, in this one random instance. It also means that instead of having traction and being able to stop she sliiiides across the room into a nearby wall and destroys it. This is followed by a baking that causes the food on Naerose to harden into a thick shell of baked, hardened food and for the moment the witch is still, trapped once again in an unbreakable shell. Meanwhile her hat manages to avoid both fates and makes a break for it.
Yes sweet freedom, Sorta like the hat knows what is in store for Naerose and wants nothing to do with it. Really it was remarkable the hat stuck with her this long, but probably did so primarily for the lulz. Now that the hat was free it Sorta forgot (or said screw it and didn't give a damn) that it didn't actually have legs with which to locomotion beyond the initial flight which carried it off the witches head. Somehow the crease made mouth grins minaically and you can almost imagine the thing cackling as it goes. Once on the ground it finds a Naerose made wet slick and slides out of sight. Exit stage left, chaos agent witches hat.
So the hat seems to have exited at least for now and Naerose, however she might feel about being called pure (probably confused) you can bet the description of Walter being cooked, whom she still hasn't apparently acknowledged as not part of the meal, is only going to cause her mouth to water too, which you can't really see because she's covered in now solidified goo, but there is at least some commentary,
"Oh wow, that sounds delicious, this theme restaurant is the best!"
Meanwhile the staff have cleared, mostly, some are still hidden behind the windows into the kitchen where communication can be made, but whenever you look at those windows, suddenly curtains. Others are hiding behind doors, the ones where you go in and out of the kitchen, the restrooms or what have you, but they duck their heads down the moment you look. There was one solitary waiter still out there, but once he saw what was going on he turned and high tailed it out of there, nearly tripping as he went. It got so quiet and so still. . Tumble weed from god knows where blows across the dining hall between Jezebel and Walter. The lights to the kitchen are suddenly turned out as someone decides pretending not to be home is best. The clock on the wall strikes noon (actually probably midnight but it's an old fashioned clock so you can't really tell the difference. Folks, it's high noon.
"That's not how things work! A...and I am part human thank you very much! Surely you can think of something that doesn't involve me being a roast dragon!"
Walter has a hat flying away, a crazy woman in red thinking he's there to be her food, and Jezebel...well, being Jezebel on a scale he hasn't yet scene. Teeth grit as she speaks, and he backs off. A deep, heartfelt sigh leaves him as he stares at her. "...Would you really go so far as to kill a man for a reason so petty? Jezebel, I see I should have watched you far more closely. We will meet again, and I will save you from the corruption you have fallen into!" He vows, before his wings flap! With a burst of wind, he flies into the air towards the hole he created, perching and peer down at the duo!
Then he flicks a piece of paper down to the duo. "And for the love of God call me some time before you start trying to make me into dinner or suddenly deciding anyone you want is your friend's meal! You are in need of one bloody large confession, the both of you!" Swoosh! And then, the dragon is off to the skies in a wobbly, frustrated manner.
"Don't... don't judge me"
Nightmare Spangles stands fast in the judgemental eyes of the dragon. Meanwhile, Naerose and Sorta Hat slips off stage right. But as Walter focuses on the mezzy Jezzie, she just endures against the withering judgement. "There is nothing petty about helping your friends. You'd know that if you... you helped me." Because its all about her. And she's right. She's always right, and she feels she is right. She is better than this priest, better than Jesus. And she FEELS this in her heart. "There is only one person who can save me from my corruption." She announces, as Walter flaps away, as the waiting staff begins to emerge. She looks to where her savior once was.
But where was Naerose.
Jezebel breaks away from the debris, looking around the room. She takes only a few steps, before she slips on a trail of grey goo. Instead of being converted by nanites, she falls on her bottom, wincing as she lands. "Gah! Oh... oh wait." She muses, looking at the trail... and then beyond. She was on the floor, on the mess of wood and splinters and mess and slime and disgusting. But she didn't care. She just wanted her Fishy Friend. She just wanted her perfect innocent girl Naerose. She narrows her eyes down the trail, as the clock strikes high noon.
And she finds her.
She sees the figure out Naerose, locked in that grey substance. Trapped, if you were, in the figure of stone. Jezebel stumbles upright, running out of the resteraunt and straight to her Fishy Friend. Tears were coming in her eye. No, no, she didn't. She didn't make something awful happen again. She didn't ruin another person. She didn't kill another friend. Jezebel was shivering, as she reaches the caked on Naerose. Jezebel embraces the statue of Naerose, trying to stand her upright, trying to ease the statue into a stand, trying to make the hat on there just right- where was the hat. She sputters aloud, as panick overtakes her.
"N-N-Nae Nae, are you hurt?"
Like moving a statue, Naerose cannot move, she could be dead in there, except you can totally hear the sound of breathing, like darth vader breathing. No clicking though. Her hat meanwhile, the one that had four arms and a gaping maw is nowhere to be seen, but there is a perfectly fine red witches hat, inexplicitly, which Jezebel is able to put on the stone witches head. There. She looks better, all better. You know, still a grey goop of stone in a frozen place unable to move and probably dead! But her hat makes her look all better, so probably yeah, she's all better.
"Hey, is there anyone out there?" Comes the errie response to Jezebel. A ghostly reply, from a ghostly person in a ghostly place. It's soo spooky.
Someplace the world starts to return to normal. People start to come out of their hiding holes, wait staff and hostesses and hosts all look around at the destruction of the place which all came to be thanks to the infamous day that Naerose and Jezebel came to their fine establishment.
"Is she talking to a statue?" One of them asks?
"No you idiot, that's what used to be our Tuna Tartar. What a waste."
"Shh, she'll hear you, don't you know old woman Jezebel is crazy!"
"Yeah, I heard she once at a cat and sacrificed a virgin to get young again."
"I heard she's like a hundred years old!"
And all the while the statue stays still, aside from that creepy ghostly breathing. Oh and it speaks, "Hey, could someone turn the lights on please?"
That last bit was Naerose. . Probably.
Maybe all the voices were just in her head.
With the hat on, it was perfectly fine. Everything was fine. But the voices were around. Naerose could be dead very, very soon. And then everything would be loss. She would be a friendkiller, a destroyer of innocents. She speaks wordlessly, mouthing imaginary sounds. Jaw slack, she finally says words as she lowers herself down, wrapping her arms around Naerose completely, murmuring. "Don't worry Naerose, I'll fix you. I'll make everything right. You're not an object to me Naerose. You're a real person, a real human being and, and... and..."
And she stands up, holding the naestatue to her chest.
She turns towards the establishment, towards the building, and shrieks at it. "I am NOT old. I am young and beautiful, and I did not sacrifice virgins, I have not eaten cats! I'm not a hundred! And... and..." She looks around, warily. "And we'll get the lights back on again, Fishy Friend." She begins to run. Run into the streets and back alleys of Bangkok. "We just need to get you, Naerose, we just need to get you..." The world around her becomes a blur, as she takes her friend away. "... We just need..."
Log created on 11:38:02 10/30/2016 by Jezebel, and last modified on 17:59:13 10/30/2016.