Description: Have you ever believed in mistakes? Jezebel has. After Naerose was turned into a grey statue, the former actress takes her to a private hotel, in order to scrub her clean. Nightmare Spangles is able to scrub away her grime, but will she able to scrub away the regret? Probably. Naerose has regrets like Daniel Jack has fans worth bringing home to mom.
It was an innocent mistake.
Nightmare Spangles had found her fishy friend Naerose in a crate, in a Shadaloo warehouse in the Bangkok docks. And she made her real again. ANd then, they went out to eat. They ate and ate, until, well, until the dragon showed up. ANd she WANTED the dragon, and she would have the dragon. But Naerose, she.... she ended up getting covered in the grey stuff. They did tell her to try it, it was delicious. Jezebel didn't believe them, so she asked the dishes.
They were silent.
And now, and now, Naerose was covered in the grey goo. She was frozen in there, trapped in there. It wasn't clear she could breath. And Jezebel loved her friend. She couldn't leave her to die, or be forgotten. Nobody deserved to be forgotten. So Jezebel was going to fix her friend. She needed to clean her off, to make her pure again. To make her -right- again.
And she knew just the place.
The location was a hotel room in the back streets of Bangkok. Jezebel wasn't worried about the rates, or the names. It was a nice hourly place, and had baths and everything for it. Jezebel used to use places like this all the time in Hong Kong. It was a great place to just slip in, and rest, and take a break from a very stressful day and clean yourself. Sometimes you just need to be alone in a dark place to clean yourself. Jezebel wasn't alone here, no. She was with her fishy friend in a dingy hotel room with stained sheets and dim lighting, in the scummy bathroom.
ANd she was saving her.
Right now, the statue of Naerose was resting in a old yellowed tub. Jezebel originally thought about soaking her in it, but well, the water didn't... work right. Now, she was just leaving Naerose standing upright in the shower portion, the water rinsing over her. Jezebel sits on the toilet, rocking back and forth, staring at the statue, holding a dirty grey goo encrusted towel. She tried to scrub it off. Nothing happened. She was afraid. What if she couldn't save her fishy friend? What if she was gone forever? How could she live with herself? Well, she would live with herself.
She wasn't strong enough to kill herself.
At one point in time what Naerose was covered in might be food, but the statue witch was not covered in what had been hardened by the spirit energy of the world. The very life force all around us, focused and then honed into something dangerous, something deadly, and then chucked at a bunch of gross disgusting food mixed together with bits of table and some ceiling and probably a light fixture or two. The end result, while not as hard as concrete, was certainly harder than it had any right to be. The schrodingers cat was actually a woman in red, probably, well a woman in dust in red. . To be honest she probably had needed a bath a long time ago.
So having been taking to the seediest place to be de-seeded, the statue witch predictably didn't move, not even a little the entire way there, or at least not outwardly. Sure there were signs of life every so often. For one thing the statue kept making these crunching noises, really eerie crunching noises. Also there was a mouth hole that a very slow intake and outtake of breath came with regular intervals, only disrupted by the crunching noises. Clearly something was going on in there, but the staff at the desk who generally wouldn't look at you when you checked out a room here would of taken notice of this.
Yes now that is not something you see every day and the woman, overweight, smoking, watching a really really awful soap opera on a small black and white tv with bunny ears. Her name was Delores thank you very much and she was working this job to make ends meet because the crappy manager at the restaurant she used to work at fired her. Actually her name wasn't really Delores, it was the Thai version of Delores, but the editors couldn't be bothered to look that up.
Usually Delores didn't check who was coming and who was going because come on, it was a seedy hotel, no one wanted to be stared at going in and she really really didn't want to stare. She wanted to get paid for doing as little work as possible and so what if by paid she got under the table far less than what could be considered a living wage, the amount of work she had to do, well it was criminal, but who was she going to complain to? The clientele? Freaks. Never had Delores wanted to know their story. At least not until now.
Watching someone drag a statue in, well that she had to admit was new. Also the statue barely even looked humanoid in appearance. If there was a fetish here it was new to her and while she knew there was some porn rule about everything being on some camera somewhere, she couldn't even imagine what you would do with this .. thing.
And so, the Statue witch has water running off her of statue shell and probably slowly making some progress on it, but who really knows. The real break through comes when Naerose literally -breaks- through the shell with an epic CHOMP and the head comes off the statue. "Oh wow, the lights are finally on." She remarks with bits of dust mingled with unspeakables on her hat and shades.
Jezebel rememebered Delores's eyes
She remember that woman looking at her. She remembered when people did that all the time. That flicker of judgement, when there was never judgement before. That's the worst feeling in the world when you see that. When you have people who are used to tolerance, releasing it and letting it go just for you. That moment of curiousity, of bile fascination, of disgust coming into a flicker, a flash. When you stand out amongst slime, when you are more diseased than the lepers. Jezebel was used to those eyes. She remembered them.
She just pretended she didn't see them.
Right now, all that Jezebel cared about was her Fishy Friend. She didn't care about the cameras, the smut, the grime. The place was filthier for them being here. But the moment the crack comes, as the blast of dust, she squeals in delight. And she starts scrubbing around the maw, making real progress as she scrapes away, as she pulls away the slime that trickles down to the floor of the tub. "Oh my god, oh my god Naerose, oh my god." Jezebel babbles, tears welling up in her eyes. "You were." "Are you okay? Are you feeling fine are you..." Jezebel gets a little more leverage on the caked on grey, trying to rip it from its casing around Naerose. She murmurs softly, fighting back the tears.
"... Are you going to forgive me?"
"Forgive you?" Naerose asks, like totally not following the train of thought in Jezebel's mind. She never understood the process in Jezebel's mind, but she probably never tried. Then she tries, "Wait so was this like some sort of crazy situation where my eggs then easy chair pulled me into the fridge and I wandered around the city talking crazy about keys and gates and then.. wait I forgot to mention a dog chased me, but then later on I turned -into- the dog and then I was with this other dog and there was this eights hair style and bubbles and she asks these guys about if they're gods, they say no, she zaps them and then stay puff marshmellow?"
As the crusted grey stuff comes free the witch needs a new moniker and goes with the ex-gargoyle witch. Anyway, she asks the obvious question finally, "So wait, where is all of the marshmellow?" Both hands close on Nightmare Spangles shoulders and gives her a little shake, "Is there marshmellow," Then she drops the grip and realizes that somewhere in the grey she left her broom, but doesn't find it. That's a problem for another time.
The insanity of everything that has happened has taken its toll, first the red dress was dusty, then less dusty but still not very red and possibly faded and now it is a splotchy grey and red and brown dress that would probably be effective in an episode of project runway.
"Forget the marshmellow, " Naerose finally manages and says, "I think I umm might of waylaid my broom, can we find another soon? I mean I don't need it right this minute, but I probably need it before say leaving this.." She looks around. . .
What she sees is a rusty sink with a leaky faucet.
A toilet that has all sorts of stains around the base on the ground tile and probably, probably you don't wanna know.
A roach friend waving its antenna in a friendly way toward Naerose from the top edge of the mirror.
Lots and lots of nicks, marks and stains in the wall, unspeakable ones.
Turning to Nightmare Spangles, Naerose asks, "Woah where are we, is this the Ritz?"
Jezebel follows what Naerose says.
She has to. When she used to have her shows with small children, they would follow the same logic paths. There was a surrealism that would transcend. And she would have to follow around. She had her own dreams too, and as Naerose takes her down one of them, she remembers. Not withering gazes, but real dreams and fantasies. As she reaches the marshmallows, the woman just nods. "Sometimes, when you go in there, with the unicorn key, you will find fish that will open doors, and aligators in sewers, and fields of deaths and people on crosses. You know, some people just can't dare to dream, but you can Naerose. As to where... where this place is..." She looks at the disgusting squalor around her. "It... it isn't the ritz. It's..." She trails off. She wanted to say this as innocent as possible.
"It's... It's a private hotel."
That is all that Jezebel wanted to tell Naerose. She peels away more and more, as she looks at the dress, all ruins and wet, and awful. "I... I think I ruined your dress. That's okay though. We'll fix everything. I'll call up a broom, and, and any clothing! Do you want witch clothing? I'm pretty sure there is witch clothing we can get from there. There are definately costumes, and if you need them, we can get them, I mean, anything you need, Naerose, I will give you." Her thoughts suddenly drift into real priorities. "LIke food! You are hungry right? We can get you fresh food, we can eat here, and then, and then, we can go out, and go about town, just you and me as Fishy Friends. We can order something special, okay? Like Marshmallows on Ritz crackers?'" She was smiling, smiling so hard, the cleanest thing in this whole place was that smile. But her eyes were sad, too sad, as she asking almost too softly.
"Just tell me what you want, Naerose"
Okay with that settled and well Naerose just accepts that this is a private hotel because she has just the best judge of what is what. She looks down and seems to consider what is a good outfit and then says, "Oh that's a good idea." Still though she's ignoring for the most part the stuff that Jezebel says that makes no sense, or the sense that something is very wrong or the sense of smell, because the grey stuff is probably not the best smell. Actually nevermind, she doesn't ignore the last sense. There is shampoo and soap and stuff here. It's the cheapest single portion that the world has ever seen, but that's okay, because Naerose uses it purely to make bubbles. Blocking the tub's drain and pouring out the entire contents, the basin starts to fill with bubbles and the smell is well, covered. Sort of.
"Let me draw it," She says and then demonstrates her artistic skills by using the single serving bar soap to draw a dress on the wall. It's not that the medium is a problem, but the drawing conveys nothing beyond a rather simple dress, sleeves, full neck, maybe knee length? It is actually really hard to tell because the figure in the dress is just a stick figure. "This," the splotch witch says, "Only in red." Meanwhile the bubbles keep piling up and starting to fill more and more of the basin. This troubles her none at all.
"Umm, no I'm not hungry," SHOCKER, "I mean I like totally just ate myself out of a land of unicorn dreams, I guess, and I'm kind of full, but yeah, like some new threads will probably be good, except for this one." She goes to work on her hat, letting the bubbles and water do their job and ending up with a soggy hat. She doesn't seem to care about this as she puts it on her head, unloading a deluge of water, but lets face it she was already soaked. Next are her shades. She starts to work on those and then finally asks,
"So are you like my faery god mother? Cause I dunno, you seem like something is bugging you and that is totally not how it is supposed to go."
Naerose was like a child.
As she accepts the answer, Jezebel just keeps focused on her, the blue eye glowing lightly. She could figure out that she needs to be scrubbed. Jezebel was almost ready to scrub her down like you would a small child. Even how she shows what she wants to wear was the purest innocence. Watches with a smile, the kind of attention a mother would give their daughter. "It's a very pretty dress, Naerose, I think I can get something like that. It's a really good job!" The bubbles were coming up; the tub really, really needed to stay low. She didn't trust the water standing, especially with the grey. But as she says she isn't hungry, Jezebel's expression turns into a smile. Out of fear. She was supposed to always be hungry. She just cleans, and cleans. And Jezebel reaches out, to help scrub her, when, when, when she asks something. If she is a fairy godmother, or a faery godmother, or something, which is so precious. But there was the other part. Something is bugging you, and that is totally not how it is supposed to go.
"YEEEEEEEE HAAAAW!" Comes the cry from Lightning Spangles, the real American hero as she stumbles through the swinging doors. She was clad in blue jeans, blue vest, all red white and blue like a real cowgirl. But her face is red, her eyes were puffy, and her body smelled strong. Striding over to the little girl dressed up as a cowgirl at the table, the Hoedown Dillo raises his arms, as Anthony Conda gasps, the man in snake makeup stumbling back. "Oh no senorita! I didn't know you were friends with Lightning Spangles! Mama Mia!" Was his statement as Lightning Spangles strides across. She nearly trips over a chair on the way, almost falling over. She quickly pivots into kicking it away, knocking it off set with a clatter. She comes to the girl, and lowers herself down to crouch to her level, hand on the little girl's shoulder. "I came as soon as I heard pardner! You know that Lightning Spangles will always have your back! Anything you need, padner, and Lightning Spangles will help y'all out! YEEEE HAAAW!" The little girl smiles a bit, but then frowns, focusing on Jezebel face hard. She could... see something. The Hoedown Dillo and Anthony Conda was waiting, waiting for a reaction from the girl.
And then she speaks.
"Lightning Spangles, are you okay?" The little girl asks, screwing up her nose. She reaches up to touch Jezebel on the cheek. She didn't know about the breakup, she couldn't know about breakup. But she could see it. She couldn't understand, but she could see. Lightning Spangles just smiles, not letting the mask crack. But the girl's words were soft, innocent. "Something is making you sad. This is bad. Are you okay Lightning Spangles?" Lightning Spangles stares down at the girl. The director was almost ready to call it a cut, for a retake. But Lightning Spangles couldn't do retakes, with all the children watching her. Her grip tightened just a little bit on the girl's arm, as she whispers in her ear. the smell of liquor getting stronger.
"Don't... don't worry about it." Jezebel begins, looking past Naerose, placing her hand on the witch's shoulder. It was the same answer to the same question that has been asked a hundred times before. "Don't worry about it. Just... just pretend you don't see it. Nothing is bugging me" She lies, as she releases Naerose's shoulder, a smile burned on her lips. She points out of the bathroom. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna call the front desk for the broom and a dress... a red dress. We'll be fine. You just... just keep cleaning yourself." Her arms were trembling. That was the problem with children. You think they will never notice who you really are. But they figure out something, always. Jezebel staggers towards the faded pink phone by the stained bed, rhinestone studded. She lifts it up, and hits the buttons to the front desk. Downstairs, Delores gets a light flashing on the switchboard. She picks up the phone, and hits the switch on it. "Front desk." She responds in broken English. Jezebel sits on the bed, dripping water. "Hello! Um, this is Nightmare Spangles, the um, the woman with the statue that came in a while back?" She twists her finger on the phone wire.
"Can you send up a broom, and a red dress about the same size as the statue?"
She decides not to worry about it, but not in the way that a child doesn't worry, blissfully ignorant, smiling back. No she shrugs the way someone older might. The truth of the matter was that though Nae Nae may not act like an adult most of the time, it was hard to deny that that there was some things not quite right about her. For one, she's full sized! Standing in a bathtub with quickly raising bubbles and totally not noticing the rising bubbles, or she doesn't care? It's really hard to tell. Probably it will sort itself out. Maybe that is what she is thinking. Maybe.
The shades are cleaned, the hat is cleaned. Naerose never ever looks through her own eyes without the shades in place. Maybe you can see them above the brim when they go low on her nose. You can see them through the lenses maybe? You can see around the lenses, but never ever ever can you look Naerose right in the eye. Whenever the shades are not there, she closes her eyes. A seemingly meaningless detail, but when looking into the windows of the soul, the Nightmare Spangles soul, or what she sees as the ultimate child. Suddenly looking in the eyes do matter and with the wet witch, it is impossible.
By now she's completely free of the grey stuff and standing in a bathtub, still filling with bubbles and water just dripping off of her, wondering what she is doing and why she is doing it. She decides she is done with this water thing and reaches down to do the obvious thing and turn it off. Except she doesn't, she just turns the shower head off so it goes to the faucet instead and lowers the rate of water fillage. There is even a triumphant smile like she's doing good, that is to say, the water will eventually overflow at this rate.
"This room could use a scrub," she comments and shakes off her hat, wringing out part of her dress entirely ineffectively and shaking out her fingers. She then walks out of the bathroom, dripping water as she goes, locates the television and turns it on. No doubt this is happening sort of in concert with the call to the front desk and thus Jezebel would find a Naerose staring at a television screen with the sort of thing that you would expect them to have in this sort of hotel.
"Really bad acting." Naerose comments, and turns the television back off again.
Delores just... shakes her head.
She heard a lot of requests. But this? This took the cake. "It's going up right now soon ma'am!" She says in a fake brightness that patrons seemed to always appreciate. She hangs up the phone and just... shakes her head. A broom and a red dress. That was just... well, no. Don't think about it. Just stay numb to it. The dress wouldn't be hard, she had a wardrobe on hand for those kinds of requests. But the broom.... she starts to the nearby janitor's closet. He probably wouldn't mind.
Jezebel wasn't really... paying attention at first. Even when she had all her attention on, she often didn't see. The woman wasn't perceptive, she never was. Maybe she didn't want to realize that Naerose wasn't looking her in the eyes. No, it doesn't mean anything. She was still as unperceptive as Naerose emerges, dripping wet on the floor. She wasn't thinking through things. She still imagined Naerose to be a child, but as an adult. They could play games and go out to dinner and have fun and play. Just like she used to, just like before. As she finishes making her request on the phone, she drifts her attention to the television that just turned on. And she sees something very familiar. Too familiar.
She drops the phone reciever on the floor as her jaw drops.
"Yeehaw" Comes the cry from the woman as she shambles through the swinging doors. She was clad in jean chaps, blue vest, all red white and blue like a real cowgirl. But too... far too small. Too showy. Her face is red, her eyes were puffy, and her lips were cracked. Striding over to the other woman dressed up as a cowgirl at the table, A muscled man, dressed as the Hoedown Dillo if the Hoedown Dillo had far less clothes, raises his arms, as Anthony Conda gasps, the well muscled man in snake makeup stumbling back. "Oh no senorita! I didn't know you were friends with Thunder Spangles! Mama Mia!" Was his statement as the gradually familiar woman comes forward. She trips over a chair on the way, almost falling over, as someone off camera curses in chinese. She pulls herself up, as she comes to the girl, and places a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "I c-c-came as soon as I heard pardner! You know that Lightning Spangles will always have your b-b-back! Anything you need, padner, and Lightning Spangles will help y'all out! YEEEE-"
The words come flat, and cold from Nightmare Spangles. The television was already off, cut off in the middle of it. She stares at Naerose, body shuddering. She wasn't looking her in the eyes again. She just needed... she just needed to look Naerose in the eyes. Good eye and bad. But she was a child. In her heart, she was a child. "Don't... don't watch those things, Naerose. You didn't see anything, did you? You didn't..." She trails off. She felt sick. She felt sick in this disgusting room where disgusting things happened to disgusting people. People like her. But not people like Naerose, no. She was perfect, and pure, and innocent. Just change the subject, and she'll forget. "I'll... I got your broom and dress, N-naerose. We'll get you in dry clothing, and we'll... we'll be done. M-m-maybe we can play a game wh-while we wait?"
Water begins to seep out on the floor from bathroom.
The world may never know what Naerose saw, only that she didn't think it was particularly great to watch. Though of all the things she could have gotten an eyeful, or a pair of black shadesful of, that was well, not as bad as it could have been. Then again someone's humiliation and regret personified on film in what at this moment was just a few seconds of video is a fairly profound concept. No doubt someone perceptive in these things could easily have figured it out. There was nude, when someone had no clothes on, then there was naked, where their soul was bared in a way that unapologetically clear. Someone could turn to Nightmare Spangles and possibly see much more than what was visible, but that person was not Naerose.
Instead she asks, "A game? Like what hackey sack?" She totally has a hackey sack in her hat which she pulls out and looks around the hotel room, the A/C starting to get to her and shivers. Then water starts to rush by her booted foot. This is not the sort of thing she would notice except a bunch of soap bubbles do too and then more as the room starts to flood.
"Oh Snap!" exclaims Naerose, realizing at once that this was way not going to be okay at the Ritz or the Ritz lite, even if the room needed a good scrubbing. She's quick to act though. First trying to dam the torrent of water by throwing the sheets off of the bed onto the ground, totally panicking and only then fighting her way into the bathroom.
A white Christmas and not of the illicit drug nature (though the police would later on assume 'Snow' had something to do with it) "I totally can't get to the bathtub"
Meanwhile. . . One floor down-
The ceiling here did not usually see that much action, for this hotel you expected noise and therefore people did not tend to knock on the ceiling with brooms. Sure the paint and plaster were starting to peel, but the ceiling had a peaceful life, long since blinded by the horrible things it had to witness day in and day out. It's only friend was Mirror. Full length Mirror. The mirror had to see things and had wanted to be put out of its misery. It is just then when such a dark thought started to form that it felt the gradual building up of water between it and the ceiling. The deluge was starting to work through the floor.
"Yeah, l-l-like hacky sack!"
Maybe she didn't see anything bad through those shades. Maybe those shades were really rose tinted, filtering out the ugliness that was the real world. Jezebel wish she had glasses like that. But Jezebel was naked more often than she was nude. She wore masks, but masks never hide just how naked and exposed you were. Naerose couldn't see it, she wouldn't see, please never see it. They would just play hacky-sack. As she brings the toy out, she sees that Naerose starts to shiver... and then, the water rushes in. Jezebel's smile fades as she stands past the bed, around to the bathroom. "Oh god, Oh god" She begins to whisper as her boots splash in the puddles. As she looks into the bathroom, something happens.
That flash of anger, that explosion of Jezebel's true self out loud. Her face was twisted into a scowl as she looks back at the witch from the bathroom door, an accusing, furious tone in her voice. "Why didn't you turn off the water? "Why didn't you- how could you forget and let-" Anger fades away into an expression of pure shame. And then, back to that burned on smile. "Sorry, sorry, I forgot, I mean, it's my fault. You're just a... just a..." She trails off. Just a child, wasn't it Jezebel? She turns towards the bathroom, and stops the water. It... it could have kept going. And it would, wouldn't it? It would just keep pouring and pouring. "I'll... I'll clean it up. You just sit on the bed, and don't... and don't watch TV. Just stay put, and don't create any t-t-trouble." She looks at the floor, still sopping wet. And she called the front desk, who would be here any moment with Naerose's new broom and dress. Desperately, she takes one of the sopping wet towels, and throws it to the floor of the bathroom.
And the entire floor groans, as moments of water damage takes its toll on years of building code violations.
A bunch of stuff happens in the next instant, that if you blinked you might miss. First of all a very ineffective towel is thrown into a very large amount of water, the result is instant. The towel just sort of floats away, having soaked up no noticeable water, hotel towels really are the worst. The next thing that happens is Jezebel gets mad. Naerose for her part doesn't seem to notice, or care. Maybe she's distracted by the water now escaping under the door, or maybe she's confident in herself enough not to be overly worried by anger, or maybe she just doesn't know fear. Another crack in the childlike parts of the wet witch.
Another thing that happens is a knock on the door. With Nightmare Spangles busy battling the water beast in the bathroom, Naerose is left to answer the door, which she does to find a very shocked Delores in the hall holding a broom and a dress.
Delores has had better days. Some days no one comes to the hotel and she can just watch her shows, some days she has to pretend their closed so the inspectors can't inspect. Some days she just calls in sick and doesn't get paid, okay not very much better days, but this is quickly turning into one of the worst. She tries not to imagine what goes on behind these doors and so she's really not imagining much now, but when the door opens and her feet are instantly soaked she's pretty sure this is one of her worse days. The deranged woman who answers the door she is pretty sure never went past the front desk so there is that, but the way she is dressed, well. . At least she is dressed, but, she guesses this must be who the dress is for. She does have something to say about the water though and is about to say it just as Naerose grabs the dress out of her arms and the broom and says, "Thanks bye." Before slamming the door. Delores knocks again, but this time the door doesn't open, the only response is, "We're busy, thanks." Delores isn't paid enough for this bullshit.
Wet footsteps carry down the hall as the poor woman in charge of the front desk goes back to said desk to place a call to who is going to be a very irate owner. Meanwhile Naerose tosses the dress on the bed, apparently something that was left in one of the rooms, it is a red dress that looks like a Spanish costume, complete with tassels along the shoulders and the skirt. There isn't any time for that however. The countdown clock has begun and the time to escape is beginning.
"Hey Jez, we should like, totally blow this place." Naerose suggests from the main room, "Like, umm, I'm sure everything will be fine, you know, I keep hearing about flood insurance and stuff, they'll be fine."
Everything was falling apart.
Naerose, for her merit, could handle the insanity of the real world better than Jezebel could. Jezebel's grip on reality was two-fisted and forced; Naerose had a kind of easy finesse that could only come from the truly gifted. Naerose's gifts... that is what Jezebel was envious of. She was so calm in this unfolding chaos. Jezebel gets down on her knees as she tries to find a drain, something, anything to control the flooding as the towel floats away. She was about to cry. And when the knock comes, she just... pretends it isn't there. But Naerose doesn't. The witch comes up to the door, as Jezebel turns around, gasping aloud. "Don't open that-"
And Jezebel can only watch.
Naerose just.... handles the situation. That is how she would describe it. It was a situation, and it was in fact handled. Jezebel could only stare stunned at what was unfolding. And after the shock comes... a different shock sinks in. Jezebel was smiling faintly, a distant look in her eyes. She... she was going to go to jail now, wasn't she? For bringing a child to a place like this. She would be worried about her reputation, but she didn't have a reputation to lose anymore. She just takes her seat on the bathroom floor, her bottom getting soaked. There was a toilet, there was a counter, there was a tub. But she just felt like sitting on the floor, her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. And Naerose has a great idea. Blow this place.
"We have nothing to worry about." She continues, a faraway tone in her voice. "Everything is fine." Another groan comes from the building. Maybe it was a patron. Maybe it was the end. Jezebel just holds herself, pretending it was someone else. They would just leave. She had her clothing, and her broom. It was fine. Everything was fine. "This is fine."
And the floor collapses underneath her.
It was the end. A sunset view of Castlevania as it crumbled, the vampire defeated and the townspeople saved. The heroines stood, or 'stood' on the ledge, which was actually a narrow outcropping from the next door building as their Castlevania, a dilapidated hourly hotel which had skipped on critical maintenance for years, crumbled to rubble just across the street from them. Heroically posed, the Red Witch (whom somehow got changed into the new dress) and Nightmare Spangles, well, 'heroically' posed, were free of the evil castle's influence and the city was saved.
How we got here was less clear. For a moment things were quite soupy, with the recipe for that soup being a deluge of water causing a mortal blow to the evil building in structural damage which further ripped aged and rusty pipes opened and only served to increase the amount of water spilling over the collapsing building. It was a slow collapse at first, like a train wreck. Plenty of time for people to get out, except the wet witch, who hadn't yet changed outfits, still standing in that hotel room after closing the door on Delores. She could tell the time to blow this stand was nigh. In one hand she had the broom, a typical janitor broom, not nearly the old style witches broom she was used to and preferred, but it would have to do. If I was good enough for Kiki it would be good enough for her. Then there was the dress, which she hastily shoved into her hat. Then she just needed Jezebel, who wasn't there.
Diving into the hole that Jezebel sunk through, Naerose found herself in an identical room, only with way more water and debris in it. There is Lightening Spangles, then- A skeleton . . of plumbing attacks, yes pipes that look freakishly like an undead ghoul comes swinging through the air and she is force to fight it off. A ghost! Which is really just a fine mist of water from a pipe not fully ruptured, then a flying medusa head . . which is just the toilet being popped into the air from the pressure build up somehow. All of this must be fought off, but before she can drag Jezebel to the nearest window - Draculores!
"You! You two did this!" she exclaims, "I will sue, you will be under arrest and be sued!" She keeps screeching and pointing and reacting in a frankly not unreasonable way if you ignore the building falling apart around her. No time for this, "Umm, gotta go," the wet witch exclaims, but Draculores isn't letting her by that easily.
"Oh no, you will wait for the cops."
Of course all evidence of malfeasance by the building will be destroyed with it, so for once this might be the best case scenario for the poor woman and the slum lord owner.
"Aww man, not the po-po" Naerose exclaims, but Draculores would hear none of it. There was only one choice.
The Wet witch didn't have a wooden stake but she had a wooden broom and while feeling squeamish of staking the vampire, brooming her sounded much less harmful and so she did. With a whack crack that resonated through the room now waist deep with water.
Of course the responsible heroic thing would be to save everyone, but Naerose didn't know she could handle being arrested by the Popo, the sixfo, the people in blue, so instead she did what any super powered fighter would do (bust a rhyme apparently), and make a hole in the hotel to escape through.
And that is how we got across the street watching Castlevania crumble.
Log created on 13:13:21 11/02/2016 by Jezebel, and last modified on 15:57:18 11/03/2016.