Seafoam visits the City

Characters in this scene: Seafoam, The Emissary, Yubi

Location: The City

In the depths of an abandoned subway station in New York City stands a young woman in an ocean-blue gown. She is shivering slightly, in the cold and stale air, but does not seem consciously bothered by it. A small, black, leather purse is looped over one shoulder, and she's holding a smartphone. And she is, at this moment, anxiously pacing back and forth along the platform, muttering.

"Okay. Okay. Said bye to Zachary, Justin, and Condor, and made sure to say where we were going. Checked out of Sanctuary. Asked Lady Lim where the New York entrance was so we know how to get back without using that escape key. Got a cheap hotel room here. Stowed all our stuff there, save what we need to bring with us. Got the ticket, the visitor's pass, our phone, our keys, and our wallet."

Levi pauses for a moment as she realizes there was no real reason for her to have brought her wallet or keys, but shrugs and decides not to worry about it. If nothing else, maybe one of the random gift cards in her wallet will make for good barter.

She takes a deep breath, and lets it out. "Right. Guess all that's left is to mention it in public chat." She types out the message - *heading to the City. will likely be in less danger than most people would be, going there, but in case we don't come back, you know what happened. we also may not have phone service down there, so communication with us may be difficult or impossible while we're there. hopefully, we shall see you all again soon.* - and sends it. Nobody seems to be active in the chat right then, but the public chat is never empty for too long. They'd see it. Hopefully.

Another deep breath. *alright. are we ready?*

*[Determination. "Ready."]*

*! Casual confidence. "Ready." !*

*@ Steel. "Ready." @*

*<< Nervous excitement. "ready!" >>*

*>Thinly veiled terror. A desire to be brave. "R-ready."<*

A third deep breath. "Ready. Right then."

Levi puts its phone back in its purse, and instead pulls out a purple-and-gold train ticket. It holds the ticket in the air in one hand, and calls into the station, "My name is Leviathan, and I need a Train Ride!"

There’s a pause. One might almost think that it didn’t work.

All of a sudden, then station begins *shivering*. There’s a sound of trains racing along tracks, but there are no trains to be seen. Loud, and angry as if they haven’t been serviced in decades.

Lights flash between pillars as if trains were passing. With each pulse the surroundings become more and more dilapidated. Tiles break and fall off of walls. Cracks spread through the ground. In between flashes you see the shadows of *things* watching you from the other side of the platform.

A train whistle blows. Once. Twice. Thrice.

A train pulls into the station. It could have been described as a thing of beauty once. Might have carried families too and from a seaside holiday. Could have carried lovers on a date through the countryside.

That train is gone now. The thing that pulls into the station could be considered a memory of that train, scratched and faded over the years. Built and rebuilt over and over again.

Bits of it are heavily rusted. Large holes have been chewed through the metal plating. What windows haven’t been boarded up have been heavily damaged.

The train squeals as it stops before you. It almost sounds as if the brakes are about to give. Sparks fly.

And then it comes to a gentle stop, the entry door positioned right in front of you

A dark voice crackles over non existent speakers:

*Now arriving at:* **-Bzzzzztttt-**

*Now departing to:* **The Terminus**

The doors shudder. Steam jets out as the slowly open.

A stairway is behind, wooden and carpeted. Dim yellow light shines out from an unseen source.

Seafoam swallows hard, and Levi says with a nervous, laughing tremor in her voice, "Jesus, uh. Hell of an entrance, there. Well, uh, guess there's no turning back now."

And with that, she steps into the train, and begins to ascend the staircase.

—-

You are sitting on a plush armchair inside of a train cabin. In front of you is an elegantly carved round table. Five other armchairs surround the table as well. All are made of the same dark wood, and all are covered in rich red upholstery that hurts a bit to look at.

You feel the gentle motion of the train as it races across tracks towards an unknown destination. There’s a gentle thump thump as it goes. Almost like a heartbeat.

The cabin is oddly spacious, clearly meant for more than one person. It’s lit by a miniature crystal chandelier that washes the room in familiar yellow lighting.

To your right is a door. Ornate wooden panels cover the bottom half, while frosted glass covers the upper half. Shadows seem to dance behind it.

To your left is a dusty window. Framing it are heavy maroon curtains covered in similar patterns. Only darkness can be seen beyond.

There is a knock on the door.

There is the barest sensation of movement, and something like a blink-

And then Seafoam is sitting down.

As one, they *leap* from the armchair with a shout, making it far enough off the ground that if anyone were around to see, they might have been impressed. "What the FUCK, what the fuck what the-"

Levi cuts itself off when there comes the sound of someone knocking at the door. Its head whips towards the door, eyes wide, claws out, fangs on a hair trigger. Seafoam hadn't bothered to bring a mask, not to the City. They wore one to spare themselves the odd looks people gave, and anyone in the City who thought their face looked a bit weird clearly hadn't been there long.

Carefully, it calls out, tense and ready to defend itself if need be. "Yes...?"

A voice like static slithers in.

“I’m here to **pu** *nch* your *ti*-\*\*cket\*\*”

The voice sounds strange. Emphasis is placed on the wrong syllables. Some sounds are stretched and distorted while others are clipped short. It sounds like something *trying* to sound human.

“Pleease *un*-\*\*lock\*\* the doooor”

Levi's eyebrows make a spirited attempt to hide in its hairline. "...Uh. And you don't mean us any harm, correct?"

“Do *you* have a **ti**-\*cket\*? One that beelooooooongs to **you**? If so, then no I don’t in~~tend any harm.~~” there’s a burst of static at the end.

“I’m just do-\*\*ing\*\* my *job* ma’am”

"...Alright then. Apologies, we are, uh... This is our first trip, and it's been very much out of our comfort zone. We meant no offense."

Seafoam is still very much on a hair trigger, but figures making nice with the ticket-taker is probably a good idea. Even if they're scary.

There’s a long pause.

“\*May\* youuu please o-pen the **door**?”

The voice sounds incredibly tired.

"Oh! Yes, sorry." And she goes to open the door.

Behind it is some... thing.

It’s big. Big enough that it has to stoop to fit its massive frame into the hallway beyond.

It’s wearing a black train conductor’s uniform that has seen better days. Bits have been torn off and poorly stitched back on. Many sections are worn or fraying.

A hand wearing white gloves pushes the door open all of the way, while another pushes down onto the ground so it can support itself. A third hand grabs the top of the doorway.

The thing shifts, and all of a sudden lurches. A large head wearing a train conductor’s hat enters the cabin. Bloodied and dirty bandages cover areas where skin would normally have been exposed.

A fourth hand reaches in and opens up a bit away from you.

“Ti-cket pleaaaaase,” the voice squeals. It’s not coming from the thing in front of you. You’re not sure where it’s coming from.

Seafoam's demeanor becomes that of a small cat with the attention of a very large dog. "Hhhhhhhhh."

Levi clears her throat and tries again. Her voice still comes out as a squeak. "Um. Right. One moment." She fumbles with her purse with shaking hands, and eventually withdraws the ticket and places it gingerly into the ticket-taker's open hand.

“\*\*Thank\*\* youuuu” it says. It produces a hole punch from *somewhere* and punches one of the gold squares. The text one the ticket shifts to read:

**TO**: 17

It looks at the ticket, then looks back at you.

“Oh, you’\*\*re\*\* the *gueeeeest*. Would **you** like some *re*-fresh-\*\*ments\*\*? Some snaaaacks or *wa-ter*? Com-pli-ments of the **Archons**.” The thing says.

It carefully gives you back your ticket.

There is a very slight pull from Seafoam's Glamour to shift into bobcat form and properly express the emotions they're feeling, but Levi ignores it in favor of not being rude to the terrifying, massive Other. "Oh. We're, uh, known. How... Uh. That. ...Yes, snacks and water sounds wonderful, thank you." It takes the ticket and tucks it back into its purse.

“One mo-ment pleaaaase” the voice says. The thing moves around a bit.

“Heeeeereee you *go*”

It offers you a large crumpled bag of Lays that appears to have seen better days in one hand. In another it offers you a bottle of water with the label ripped off.

“They loooook *sus*-\*\*pi\*\*-cious but they’re pro-probably not poi-poisonous” the thing says, sounding vaguely apologetic

Seafoam blinks. None of them had quite been expecting that. "...Huh. Thank you, er... Do you have a name?"

“Not real-ly. I am a con-duc-tor. In ser-vice to the Tick-et Keep-er. **Bound** to the **City**. Names are *dan*-ger-\*\*ous\*\* down here,” they reply.

“Would you like an-y-thing else?”

"Hm. Fair enough. And no, that'll be all, thank you." Levi takes the proffered probably-not-poisonous refreshments and does her very best to smile at the ticket-taker without seeming as scared as they all are on the inside. It... probably worked.

“I *hope* you **en**-joy your sta-\*\*visit\*\*. I meant *vi*-sit.” the thing says, awkwardly correctly itself.

The thing pulls back, before gently shutting the door behind it. The door locks automatically, leaving Seafoam alone with their refreshments.

@ "Oh, good. That wasn't ominous at all." @\*

Seafoam returns to their seat, and debates internally about whether to partake in the refreshments. Eventually, curiosity and the lure of junk food wins out, and Levi digs in. The chips are a bit crushed, and the water is lukewarm and plasticky, but they don't seem to be poisoned.

Just as Levi is finishing the last of the chips, it notices a faint yellow glow coming from the train window.

You look outside to see the City approaching.

Giant black towers soar up only to bend inwards and curve *down* as they near a burning yellow sun atop a needle-thin tower. Apartments and buildings rise upwards, stacking one on top of another before crumbling beneath its gaze. It’s as if the entire City is being pushed *down* by the sun, the buildings buckling and straining against its weight.

Below you can see that the train appears to be floating above an endless ocean, black waves pulsing in and and out from the dark metropolis before you. Things swim and squirm beneath the pitch black waters. If you look close, you think can almost make out an immense mouth or a colossal tail.

The sun flares, and you can feel something *big* suddenly taken notice of you. You feel all of your connections become suspended for a moment. Something brushes against you, gently assessing and examining the connections you bring in before gently reconnecting them to you.

Things suddenly feel very *strange*.

The air feels off. You’re not sure of what you’re breathing is really air. Your body feels heavier, but your souls feel... lighter? But not in a good way. They feel as if a strong gust of wind would scatter you to pieces.

If you turn on your Sight you’d find that all it returns is static. Static and noise.

As it approaches, you can make out a few buildings that stand out from the darkness. A large Victorian manor. A factory, pumping smoke into a pitch black sky. A sprawling open air marketplace. A concrete hospital. A harbor filled with wrecked and ruined hulls.

In the distance you can almost make out crystalline skyscrapers being constructed.

As you look closer, you could almost see the City *moving*. Buildings sinking or rising as streets spread through and around them like veins.

It hurts your head to look at. Or well, it would but you’ve found that you suddenly no longer feel pain.

Rain pours down and soaks everything behind the glass.

All of a sudden a loud voice crackles over an intercom:

*Now arriving at* **The Terminus**.

(Aaaaand Pause?)

Seafoam suddenly finds that they have moved to stand by the window, though they don't remember standing. Their mouth has gone dry, and their eyes feel like they should be stinging. They think to sit back down and finish their bottle of water, but find they are transfixed by the sight ahead.

The City is almost beautiful, in its wrongness. The way the buildings curve. The bizarre mishmash of architecture. The way it moves and stretches and pulses like a living, nauseatingly organic being. Even the pitch-dark ocean and the torrential rain, ordinarily sources of comfort to people who so adore the sea - the familiarity of them adds to it all.

And the sun in the center...

A memory, of a dream had the previous night, forgotten until now.

*There is a shipwreck, perched atop the sea as though beached against an invisible cliff. Nothing else around for miles - only the endless blue sea and a bright sky just as infinite, just as blue.*

*There is no wind. No feeling, nor sound, nor movement. Nothing to disturb the sight. Not even the waves move.*

*Everything is still. And there is a shipwreck.*

*And then, within - something moves. There is the barest suggestion of mirrors, and the impression of asphalt behind.*

*Eye contact.*

Another memory, of the Emissary shuddering and turning clear, and the tower in the center of the City showing through their body.

It is incredibly difficult to look at the star atop the tower. But Seafoam does, for just a moment, look directly at it, before they are forced by its glare to look away.

The train begins to shake as the sun flares brightly. Metal bends inwards and screeches as something *big* latches onto the train. You feel it pull the train hard in the direction of the City.

The sun explodes and everything goes white.

**I ALLOW THEE ENTRANCE**

—-

You’re standing at a platform inside of a large train station. The train you were on is nowhere to be seen.

The floor beneath you is made of large tiles of polished marble that have seen better days. Cracks run through most of them, with the whole ones being worn and scuffed. Dark plants seem to poke out here and there.

Concrete pillars extend upwards to an impossibly high ceiling. Twisted arcs of rebar cross together to hold up a grid of glass tiles that are in similar condition to the ones on the floor. Rain appears to be hammering down on it, but you can’t hear a sound. Long lamps stretch down from the ceiling bathing everything in a hazy amber glow.

Signs in many recognizable and unrecognizable languages are nailed to the pillars. The ones in English on the sign nearest to you read: “The Drains”, “The Abattoir”, “The Servers”, “The Forest”. They point further down the station.

You see other platforms stretching out into the horizon, monstrous passengers boarding and unboarding. Some of those place names hang above those platforms on placards. One for the Drains seems to be fairly normal. The one for the Abattoir is dripping blood, intestines streaming out from open windows like macabre decorations.

There’s a sound of thousands of large feet as something *big* skitters into the station, somewhere off in the distance. You can’t really make it out, but the passengers waiting enter through a giant mouth that opens at the front.

There’s an omnipresent clicking noise that seems to be coming from a massive departure board. Names and times appear and disappear almost too fast to read.

You are currently the only one on your platform.

Seafoam's arms gradually drop from in front of their face, where they'd been thrown up in an effort to protect from whatever the sun would do. They look around the station, and Levi lets out another nervous titter. "Oh. How... efficient. Er."

She looks around with wide eyes at the myriad of other platforms around, with their menagerie of transports and passengers. She had heard of other Realms, of course, but being *in* one, let alone one with a mix of the inhabitants of so many other Realms? It is awe-inspiring - and a tad overwhelming. There is still the matter of an exit from the station, but for just then, Levi is content to look around and watch.

“\*Seafoam? Is that you\*?!” A familiar voice shouts from behind you.

You turn.

It’s the Emissary. Not the way that they looked on the night of the party, but the way they looked when you first met them.

Pale skin dotted in freckles. Hair dyed a deep blue. Ripped grey jeans and red converse sneakers. A grey tank top with the words “WELCOME TO THE CITY” emblazoned on it in gold.

They’re smiling, and you can see that they have a small gap between their two front teeth.

Their eyes are pitch black.

They wave to you.

Every member of Seafoam breaks into a grin to match the Emissary's, and Levi waves back and jogs over to meet them. "Emissary! How have you been? It feels like it's been ages since we last saw you, at the grand opening."

It pauses, tilts its head slightly. "...That *was* you, yes? You've referred to yourself with plural pronouns before, and you - or whoever it was - did look and act quite different then." Levi shakes its head and smiles again. "Well, be that as it may, it is truly great to see you again."

”\*We are as many and as few as we need to be Seafoam. There are many Emissaries, but there is only one Emissary of the Dark City.\*” They say, grinning widely. The smile feels genuine at least.

“\*We can say that we’re glad to see you too Seafoam. One could say that we’ve been doing well. With whom have we been given the pleasure of talking to today?\*”

They sway slightly from side to side.

"...close enough."

Levi's smile becomes a little smaller, a little more tinged with worry, but is still wide and genuine. "We are glad to hear that. Oh, yes, ah, currently you're speaking to Leviathan, but the others are here too, and have asked me to pass on their greetings. If I may ask, Emissary, did you come to meet us simply to say hello, or were you sent?" A beat. "Ah, not that one is preferable to the other, of course, it's just- ehm- I-I was just curious, is all."

“It is nice to see you again Levi!” they say with apparently genuine enthusiasm. “We’re here to give you a tour of the City as many parts of it are still under construction. The Archons are hard at work, and they thought it would be best if you had a guide.”

They hold out their right hand. You can clearly see the City’s sigil on it. It looks less like it was tattooed on and more like it was burned onto paper.

“Grab on! Let’s go!”

They suddenly pull back their hand.

“That is unless... you would rather us not be with you”

Their face twists slightly.

"Wh- Nonono, no! I- eh- We would love for you to give us a tour, Emissary. That... sounds fun." As she says that, Levi is surprised to realize that, despite Seafoam's first impressions of the City, and their worries about the Emissary, and their worries about what they'll find, she means it.

And so, she offers the Emissary her hand. "Shall we?"

“\*We shall!\*”

They lead you towards an exit that you’re pretty sure wasn’t there before. Two concrete pillars frame a large sliding glass doorway. “THE CITY” hangs above it in neon lettering.

A turnstile blocks the exit. An old fashioned security camera with a cracked green lens watches you carefully.

The Emissary waves a black disk in front of the camera. There’s a loud click and they quickly pass through the turnstiles.

“Just show the camera your visitor’s pass,” they say.

The camera looks at you closely, the lens zeroing in.

An alarm blares. Iron bars descend from the ceiling, blocking off the exit.

Even with your Sight being on the fritz you can tell that something massive is powering those bars.

“\*What? What’s going on?\*” The Emissary says, frantically looking around.

“Do your masters know that your guest is covered in Glamour dear Emissary?” A voice says behind you. The voice sounds slightly distorted as if it were coming from a cheap speaker.

You hear the sound of high heels clicking on the marble tiles.

“Did they even ask you to ensure that they knew not to bring any onto City grounds?”

Behind you is a woman, tall and imposing.

Her skin is Jade green with dark veins running through it, branching out like veins on a leaf. The right side of her head is shaved in an undercut with golden circuitry embedded in skin. The ear has large rusty iron nails and wires threaded through it. Her nose and lips are pierced with silver studs.

Glittering copper, silver and gold wires are woven into long black hair with neon red flowers dotted throughout. It hangs low over the left side of her face, covering up a large cracked green camera lens. Black tar oozes out from where it’s rammed into her skull. The other eye is pitch black.

Her red dress unfolds outwards, like a flower in bloom. Gold circuits trace intricate designs onto it. It falls down in layers before ending roughly at the ankle. The heels she’s wearing are studded in spikes.

She’s smiling and showing off entirely too many razor sharp teeth.

“Well child, did they?” the woman says, “Did they tell you that Glamour was strictly controlled inside of the City? Did they tell you that illegally smuggling in Glamour could be punished with forced Residency? Did they warn you of this?”

She’s standing in front of you now, towering above you at roughly seven feet.

“Well, did they?”

Levi had just started to reach into its purse to retrieve the visitor's pass when the sound of a klaxon blares, marking the descent of a set of bars that cut Seafoam off from the City. At the sound of a voice from behind them, Levi turns at a speed most humans would struggle to replicate, and sees-

*[*\*Exasperation.\*\* "You've gotta be fucking kidding me, Levi."]\*

-a very beautiful, very tall, and very dangerous looking woman standing behind it.

It takes a couple tries for Levi's mouth to make coherent words. "I. Euh. Um." It clears its throat and tries again. "They... did not, as it happens. Your warning is well appreciated."

*! Suspicion. "Wait. There's something about what she said..." !*

The woman would see Levi's eyes widen slightly, and when it speaks again its tone is far more sure. "However, you needn't worry about this. We produce Glamour naturally, and made no particular effort to hide this when we boarded the train here. And yet, after an examination by the light at the center of the City, we were granted entrance regardless. Our Glamour has been, we presume, a known entity, and we here pledge not to knowingly distribute it to City residents."

The woman sneers.

“Did I say that you were in trouble? Am I not kind for informing you of the rules? Your Glamour might have been accepted by the Monarch child, but would you be foolish enough to try and use it?”

The woman laughs. It sounds like fans catching on fire.

She turns to leave before adding:

“Is it truly wise to trust the Archons’ tool?”

She walks off into the distance. The lights above flicker and she is gone.

Next to you the bars and turnstiles have vanished. The door is wide open.

The Emissary stands in front of it with a worried expression on their face.

“\*Are you alright Seafoam? Ambassador Yubi can be quite... intense at times. One could say that we do not like her very much.”

Levi's lip curls as she looks towards the spot where Yubi disappeared. "...One could say that about us, too. It is a shame she's so... like that. She's quite pretty."

She takes a breath, lets it out, and looks back towards the Emissary with a half-smile. "And yes, we are alright. Thank you, Emissary. Shall we be off?"

You both exit out of the doors.

—-

You’re both standing in the middle of a wide road. Tall apartment buildings loom overhead, bending slightly as if they’re about to collapse. Things seem to peer out of cracked and boarded up windows. Power lines soar above you crisscrossing over and over again through an ink black sky.

None of the buildings have doors.

The asphalt is cracked and pockmarked with deep potholes.

Rusted car wrecks line the side of the road. Streetlights spear upwards out of the sidewalk on both sides emitting that familiar sickly yellow glow.

There’s a faint buzzing in the background, presumably from the lights.

People dressed in ragged and worn clothing shuffle about, ignoring you. Every inch of skin is covered in bloodied bandages. They sometimes stop and talk to each other, speaking in whispers.

Rain pours down.

In the distance you see a spire stretching infinitely upwards. Atop is that familiar sun

The Emissary turns to you, apparently unphased.

“\*Where would you like to go first? We can take you to the marketplace if you would like. Oh, or would you prefer if we visited the Harbor?\*”

“\*We believe we also mentioned introducing you to the mask maker at the party, though we recall it was Dream that we spoke to.\*”

“\*Where would you like to go?\*”

Seafoam does their best to ignore the more disturbing parts of their surroundings (though Amalia is quite taken with the trailing bandage of one of the locals, and transmits an image of a kitten batting at it playfully).

"The mask maker sounds quite interesting! We often wear masks around most people, in order to avoid getting stared at. Something about our face just... doesn't seem to fit quite right. Consequences of a ritual performed a while ago, alas. Perhaps they'll have something to our liking."

“\*One could say they are an expert in their field. One could also say that their craft is thriving under the Archons’ patronage\*” the Emissary says.

“\*How would you like to get there? We could call a vehicle. We could simply move all of us to the store. Or-\*”

Their lips quirk up in what could be considered a mischievous grin.

“\*We have been given extra allowances for your visit. Would you like to race across the rooftops?\*”

Levi raises an eyebrow, grinning in anticipation. "That last one sounds *quite* fun. It has been a time since our last race. Though really, it was more of a hunt than anything, and over far too quickly regardless. How shall we know where the finish line is?"

“\*The City will guide you\*” the Emissary says cryptically. She grins coyly.

The buildings around you begin *melting* as they sink into the ground. The street rises, flickers and is replaced by a rooftop. Around you are similar rooftops. They extend downwards for a bit before eventually fading into black fog.

The rain pours down. Odd, but you don’t seem to be getting wet. The roof itself doesn’t appear to be slick either.

In the distance the spire looms.

The Emissary takes off, leaping into the air. They laugh, and it sounds like bottles being thrown at a wall.

A street lamp rises out of the void. The Emissary pushes down with their hand and catapult onto a nearby roof.

They bow and for a moment a crowd bows with them.

“\*Come on!\*” they yell.

Seafoam expects vertigo, or the sensation of movement, as the scenery changes, but as with their transitions to and from the train, the only indication that anything has changed is visual. It's as though they're on an invisible platform suspended just above the ground, while the street transforms beneath their feet.

Levi watches the Emissary running and jumping - laughing, having *fun* - and feels some collective small, wordless worry in Seafoam's heart crumble and dissolve away. And then that feeling is gone, too, transmuting smoothly into a rush of adrenaline as she races to catch up, springing to grasp the end of the same streetlight the Emissary used and flinging herself up to their roof - and then keeps running past them.

Levi calls over her shoulder as she goes. "Bet I'll beat ya there!"

“\*We are not allowed to make and or accept bets!\*” the Emissary shouts back. Their voice bursts into static towards the end.

A building suddenly bursts out from under them and they’re sent flying through the air. They land on both feet before continuing.

You see a three-story building floating in midair up ahead. The lights are on and a neon sign flickers in the gloom. The words “Painted Faces and Faces Painted” stand out clearly in the darkness. If you look closely you can almost make out two large neon comedy and tragedy masks.

That is *probably* your destination.

Levi doesn't respond, instead focusing on the feeling of the wind and rain against its skin, the adrenaline in its veins, and the sheer, simple joy of running as quickly as it can. It leaps across a narrow street with a whoop, pouring on one last burst of speed as it makes for Painted Faces. The joy of running is a wonderful thing, but so is that of winning a competition, and it aims to have both here, if at all possible.

The Emissary continues jumping from roof to roof. As they soar through the air they shudder and seem to separate into different composite body parts before recollecting into their current form.

You’re almost there!

Dodge around the air conditioning vent, hop over the massive crack in the roof, clamber down the fire escape, jump, tuck, roll, *run-*

Levi arrives at the finish line just in front of Painted Faces first, panting, sweaty, and grinning so hard its face hurts. (Or ought to, anyway; but it doesn't dwell on that.) The Emissary arrives shortly after, and Levi greets them with a playfully smug, "Told you I'd win!"

The world melts as structures rise up around you. You’re standing on a street again.

The building before you stands out a bit from its rather brutalist surroundings by its more Eastern influenced design. The floors are tiered, with each “tier” having its own gently sloping roof that extends outwards. Paper lanterns hang down from the corners of each roof. Always in pairs of black and white.

A wall surrounds the front with a round wooden gate in the middle. On either side is a statue that looks *vaguely* like a lion resting on its hind legs. The one on the left has one paw resting on a large orb. The one on the right does not.

Both lions are missing their faces.

Suspended in midair above the gate are the words “Painted Faces and Faces Painted” lit up in neon. Next to it are the very recognizable Greek comedy and tragedy masks.

There is no knocker nor knob on the door.

“\*Great job Leviathan! You are very agile!\* the Emissary says. They’re panting, but it feels like they’re doing it manually.

(Intermission?)

(intermission!)

Levi chuckles. The Emissary's forced panting is... well, it is a tad creepy, but it's endearing, too. "Thank you, Emissary. You're quite impressive yourself." She turns away from them to appraise the building they'd arrived in front of. "This is the place, then, hm? It's very... striking, isn't it. Very pretty."

She admires the architecture a bit more, before speaking up again. "So do we just knock, or...?"

The door opens by itself. It seems the owners were expecting you.

Behind is a small courtyard. A short path of black and white pebbles leads to a Torii gate framing a large circular opening. The entrance is covered by a thick red and gold curtain.

To the left of the path is a small pond filled with black water. The City’s ever present sun is reflected within.

To the left are... gravestones. Eight of them. They are short pillars of varying heights, with the names worn or scratched off. Bowls of rice sit in front of each one. Incense burns nearby but you can’t smell anything.

Surrounding the graves is a large circle carved into the ground. Unfamiliar letters line the rim.

It would probably be a bad idea to try and enter the circle.

"...Well. Suppose that answers that question." Levi looks back at the Emissary. "Is there anything we should know before going in? Any topics to avoid, or rules of discourse that the shopkeep uses, or anything else to watch out for?"

“\*Have you bound any Others before?\*” the Emissary says. There’s a bit of steel in their eyes

Levi sucks in a breath. Oh dear. "...Sssome. Not many. I try to avoid binding Others - or humans, for that matter - but I have bound Others before. I was under duress for all of those save one, if that makes any difference."

The Emissary pauses.

“\*Then you may have to use this to avoid being removed by Blanc\*,” they say pulling out a tarnished coin with a hole punched through it.

“\*They do not look kindly upon those that have bound other beings, and may take offense to your presence. The coin can be used to request a gift from them and they will be forced to comply according to the compact that they made with the Archons.\*”

“\*You may use this, or you may try and convince Noir to help Blanc see reason. However, we must warn you that Noir has issues with boundaries. Be careful about what you choose to offer\*”

“\*We will pay for services you request or goods that you seek to purchase, but one should be wary.\*”

"...Ah. Boundary issues. How very... Actually, I'm not going to finish that sentence. Otherwise, I may well be gainsaid."

Levi looks at the coin for a moment, then takes it. "Right. Hopefully we won't have to use this. Can't imagine doing so would endear Blanc to us any more. And now, just one more thing..."

Levi closes its eyes, and takes three slow, deep breaths, and the person who opens their eyes next is not Levi.

The voice of the person who speaks is deep, and masculine, with just a touch of a Southern accent to it. "My name is Ramiel."

Rami cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, settling into physical existence. "Right. Let's go see some people about a mask, huh?" And he heads for the door.

You hear a voice call out:

“Changing the person behind the mask won’t endear you to us either child! A mask is still a mask and we know masks *very well*!”

You hear two finger snaps and the curtain opens.

The room beyond is *big*. Bigger than the outside would suggest. Immediately to your left is a wall of roughly sixteen assorted items. Even without the Sight you can feel *power* coming off of them.

To your right are delicate paintings of the Japanese countryside.

At the end sits an immense figure. Pitch black fur covers every inch of skin. They appear to be dressed as a parody of a samurai with bits and pieces of old and dented armor welded and cobbled together to cover their massive frame. Each piece of armor is painted in alternating shades of grey and black. Sharp metal claws cover their hands

They have no face.

Horns and fangs jut out of a large steel mask chained to their chest. The mask is sneering.

The figure is sitting cross-legged on a plush red pillow. Before them is a comically small wooden table.

They motion for you to enter.

“Did you really think that your little trick would work on someone of our stature? We’ve skinned Practitioners with far more skill and experience than you child!”

The masks lips move with the voice.

The voice is vaguely feminine

A deeper voice calls out from behind a door that wasn’t there before.

“Are you scaring off the customers again darling? What did I say-“

A man walks out.

He’s thin. Painfully thin. Dark veins stand out on porcelain skin. Black hair cascades down his shoulders to his waist. He’s wearing a white “comedy” mask. Black eyes glitter beneath.

He’s wearing black jeans that are far too tight on him along with a white long sleeve shirt. The top buttons have been opened revealing a mess of dark veins on his chest.

One arm is covered in plates of some bone-like material. Raw muscle is exposed where the plates don’t overlap. The other is covered in a mess of rings and wires that shift and pull as he moves it.

“My my, what have you brought us today dear Emissary?” the man says.

“\*This is Ramiel, he is a guest of the Archons.\*”

Rami enters the shop hesitantly, but keeps his voice level. "Apologies, it was not meant as a trick. We thought that switching to someone who hasn't performed a binding would help you be more at ease."

He nods to Noir politely. "You both can call me Rami, if you like."

“You can call us Weiss” the large figure says.

“Weiss? Is that what we’re doing now? Fine then, I get to be Schwarz!” the man says, clapping his hands. They make a dull thumping noise.

“Regardless of your intent, we will interpret it as an attempt at deception!” Weiss snarls.

“Darling guest of the Archons remember? You know the ones that run this place? Don’t be rude.” Schwarz says. He leans into the open doorway behind him.

“Oroka, please prepare some tea! We have a customer!”

“We told you not to say please to the vermin!” Weiss yells.

Schwarz slowly walks closer, body bouncing to some unknown beat. He leans in and stage whispers: “I’d apologize for Weiss but they’d take offense. Please don’t assume that they’re always like this. They’re usually quite pleasant to be around.”

Then, *very loudly*:

“Though they could stand to be a bit nicer to our guests!”

Weiss growls.

Rami reflexively leans a bit away from Schwarz as he leans in, and leans a little farther away when he starts shouting. "Uh... Yes, well." *Fuck me, whose idea was it to have me front again? These people are gonna give me a headache.*

*exasperation. "yours, genius."*

*...Oh. Right.*

He clears his throat, and addresses Weiss. "We were recommended here by none other than the Emissary themself, who said you do stellar work. We often wear masks in our daily life, and thought that paying you a visit and seeing what sorts of wares you sell could be nice. With the Archons bankrolling our visit, we might even buy one. Does that sound amenable to you?"

There’s a long pause.

Weiss *cackles*.

“Yes we make masks! Masks finer than what you could find, unfortunately we’re currently backlogged! The Emissary neglected to mention that the Archon’s new pet blew up one of our masterworks!”

“\*We were not informed of this\*” the Emissary says confused.

“Of course you weren’t! It wasn’t you that gave it to us, it was-“

The Emissary clears their throat.

“How about we settle down for some tea?” Schwarz says before snapping his fingers twice. Blood drips onto the floor.

A man walks out of the door carrying a fine tea set on a tray. The way he walks is... strange. Almost robotic.

He’s wearing a business suit, but the thing that really stands out is the mask he’s wearing. It’s blank and made of white stone with the words “愚か” embossed on it in gold.

He marches to the table in front of Weiss, gently puts down the tray and pours three cups.

Rami takes the cue and sits down cross-legged at the table, though he doesn't yet take a sip of the tea. "That is a shame to hear. What sort of masks do you make, if I might ask? Even if you aren't taking more orders at the moment, we still may want to place an order."

Schwarz sits down next to Weiss, and drapes an arm around her leg.

“Don’t worry, the tea isn’t poisoned” he says, “The tea set is enchanted to so it’s always the drinker’s favorite flavor. One of the few things I managed to keep with me after I left Faerie”

Weiss playful smacks him on the back of the head.

“We make Masks out of Practitioners child”

(intermission!)

“Practitioners and others that sought to do us harm. We can make them out of other things but we believe there is great justice in taking the face of someone who sought to force a face upon you.”

“Sixteen have tried to bind us, sixteen have failed,” they say, motioning towards the wall of Implements.

“They came for us. Hunted down our family and bound them to their masks. They sent them after us and one by one they were cut down.”

“Would you attempt the same?”

“Darling, please stop intimidating our new customer.”

“We must know who they are before we commit to making them one of our masks.” Weiss says. They give you a hard look

Rami is visibly shaken as Weiss describes their background, and shakes his head as they finish speaking, face and tone serious. "Never. We don't like binding, and actively avoid doin' so as much as possible. We will never bind you, Weiss, for several reasons. Chief among them, though, is that it would be a violation of our morals." He pauses for a moment, then continues. "If it's not too presumptuous of us, we'd like to offer our sympathies for what befell your family. The atrocities that some Practitioners commit are..."

He clenches his jaw and takes a measured, steady breath. "...Truly horrific."

They laugh.

“We are not blameless child.” they say, resting on large clawed hand on the table. “Our masks are carved from the identities of their former bearers. By donning them you may don a different name and a different face. They will allow you to redefine yourself in ways more flexible and concrete than most. Something which you appear to be *quite* familiar with.” they say pointing out your claws.

“Tell us, where did you get your parts? Did you kill them with honor?” they say.

"...Oh." Rami feels a bit silly for not having connected the dots earlier, but currently his primary feeling is *alarm.* "Before I answer that question, I need to... confer with the others. It won't be long, I think." He takes a deep breath to center himself, and closes his eyes, the better to focus his thoughts inward.

*["I don't like this, y'all. Is this... are we really gonna go through with this?"]*

When nobody answers, Rami keeps talking. *["It feels like a precipice. Somethin' that we can't come back from. I know we need to get more powerful if the MacEntires are on our trail now, but like... I dunno. Do we really wanna be the kind of people who deal in stuff like this?"]*

It's Levi who speaks up. *"honestly, we've kinda gone over that precipice already. remember the guy i Tapped? we didn't have to do that. but we conferred, and decided it was a good idea, so we did. and it's helped." contrition, the feeling of being lost, frustration. "not trying to, like- uh- oh, fuck it."*

A stream of emotion flows towards/into Rami, and he understands what she was trying to say. *["Yeah. Thanks."]*

Keira, ever the practical one, speaks up next. *@ "We don't have many other avenues to get stronger, either. That's the whole reason we're here in the first place." @*

*@ A hand on Rami's shoulder. Sympathetic ice-chip eyes. A hug, words murmured into his shoulder. "I don't like it any more than you do. But this is a rare opportunity, and we can't let it go to waste." @*

In their mind and in real life, Rami takes another deep breath. *["...You're both right. But I'm not gonna be the one to do this. It's just... Yeah, I can't. It's not me."]*

*a pat on the shoulder. "yeah, no problem. i'll take care of it."*

*["Thanks. Love ya."]*

*love you too.*

And when Seafoam's body opens its eyes again, Rami is no longer in the driver's seat.

Levi shifts a bit on the floor. "My name is Leviathan. Sorry about that, Weiss. Rami elected to give up the front to me, after our discussion. To answer your question, we obtained these from a third party, and performed the ritual that added them to our form ourselves. We dislike killing, as well; these additions were made for self-defense. We are quite familiar with redefining ourselves, though, in ways both magical and mundane. Say what you will about Innocents, but modern medicine is quite effective sometimes."

“\*Fascinating\*,” Schwarz says leaning in a bit too close for comfort, “How do you do that? Are you a Host?”

Weiss roughly pushes him back.

“Distance Schwarz!” they say, “You speak of treating our guest kindly while violating their personal space.”

“We will not ask about your situation at this time child, though we are curious about the other five faces looking through your eyes. You have given us information, and so we will give you information in turn.”

“This world loves its patterns and will seek to force you into a role. If you choose to fight it then it will fight you in turn. If you truly seek to transcend the definition applied to you by this world, then you must choose a new one.”

“We had once tried to fight against labels, and so this world saw fit to brand us ‘Oni’. We took the faces of those that sought to put a face to us, and so we were named the ‘Taker of Faces’. Now we are known as the ‘Oni Mask Maker’. Such was our mistake, and such is our punishment.”

“If you truly wish to redefine yourselves, then it would be wise to have a definition to slip into. Or, better yet, define yourselves as one who redefines their Selves.”

“Do you understand?”

Levi blinks. Is it... being given life advice? It certainly isn't the strangest thing to have happened today, but... It is unexpected, though no less appreciated. It bows, still seated, and says, "Thank you, Weiss. I believe we do, and quite well at that."

Levi smiles the smile of someone reminiscing on past victories. "After all, once I was called man, and now I am called woman. And while that, in itself, is a momentous feat... I am not yet satisfied with it. Better, but not the best. And so it is with many things." It waves its claw-tipped fingers as punctuation.

Weiss laughs.

“We cannot make a mask for you at this time child, but we may consider it. While we hate Practitioners and their ilk, we respect those who redefine themselves so thoroughly!”

They snap their fingers twice.

“Schwarz! Bring them a gift! One befitting their nature.”

“Bu- Oh perfect, I know just what to get them!” Schwarz says, running through another door.

Weiss leans in close and whispers, “We do not expect you to do this for us, but if you return could you bring us a memory of the sun? We have not seen it for decades and have not felt its touch on our face for even longer.”

“We do not remember what it feels like to walk on the world above. Please, do this for us.”

Levi inclines her head respectfully to Weiss as Schwarz bustles out of the room. "Thank you, Weiss, for both the consideration and the gift. If you do make us a mask, we shall be very grateful. As for a memory of the sun... We will try. It's not our area of expertise, but we will regardless."

It's then that she remembers the cup of tea in front of her, and takes a sip. It tastes of watermelon.

“Got it!” Schwarz cheers as he carries a small glass jar, “Flesh Sculptor’s Clay! Have you ever used this before?”

He plops it down onto the table with a thud. The thing inside looks like ordinary black clay.

Weiss is silent.

"We've not, no. What does it do?"

“Watch!” he says with glee.

He scoops up a bit and covers his Chitin covered hand. He rubs it in. Kneads it in really deep, and then pulls it away.

His hand is normal now, but strangely discolored as if stained by the clay. He flexed his fingers.

The clay he removed has what looks like fragments of bone and sinew in it.

He picks up another piece and rubs it onto the hand covered in rings and wires. Same effect, the hand is normal now if a bit discolored. The second ball of clay has a slightly metallic sheen

“Now this is the really cool part!” he says gleefully.

He takes the metallic ball and rubs it on the hand attached to the Chitin covered arm. He rubs it in and shapes it, forming sharp claws.

As he does so wires and rings begin popping out of flesh. The wires reach back, digging in between plates of Chitin and working their way into muscle. He rubs it side ways, the rings elongating outwards to encompass his hands. Eventually he runs out of clay.

He holds up a plated gauntlet made of rings and wires, the tips clawed.

He then grabs the bony clay ball and rubs it onto the other hand. Soon it’s transformed into a spiked glove of bone.

“The Heartless have a procedure known as ‘Citation’,” he says, rubbing his hands together, “They’d take pieces of paper and transfer their wounds or qualities they disliked to trade them for things they did like. It’s an expensive procedure that must be done carefully, or else the changes might be lost *with interest*”

“The Faeries of the Fall Courts use something similar to shape and reshape their own bodies and the bodies of their servants. Much more fragile due to it’s origins being rooted in Glamour however. Given time though, the clay would ‘set’ and ‘cure’ and the changes would become permanent.”

“The clay was then sold to the Court of Dark Spring where they imparted their own aesthetic sensibilities onto it, preferring to have something that can be easily gained and discarded. Why take time to change your clothes with Glamour, when you could simply apply them ready made before hand?”

Weiss puts one hand to the mouth of their mask.

“\*This\* particular clay is unique. It’s been passed through the Abyss and has been fed in the City. The changes it imparts will be far hardier than Faerie clay. In exchange however, things it is used on would be easier to lose due to the City’s Abyssal and Lost nature.”

He uses more clay to return his hands to normal.

“Would you like to try it?” he says gleefully. There’s an almost manic edge in his tone.

Without warning, Weiss lunges and snatches up the jar of clay before you can grab onto it. The table rocks slightly.

The Emissary moves close as if to shield you.

“Weiss wha-“

Weiss whispers something while tracing symbols onto the surface with their palm. They push something into it and paint begins *bleeding* out of their fingers. The clay *screams* as it turns into a strangely iridescent shade of lavender. Weiss pulls out a ball of dark roots that bleed darkness onto the table.

They put it into their mask’s mouth.

The Emissary shifts.

“My partner appears to have forgotten the... problematic effects certain influences can have on a person. We have purified it in some fashion. Were you to use it, you would find Abyssal influences staining your person. This might have caused a war with your Fae nature.”

“It might not be noticeable at first, but eventually your body would tear itself apart. We have fixed it, and have hopefully made it more agreeable to your nature. You may not be able to create great suits of armored flesh, but you will still be able to create less cumbersome things.”

They offer the jar back to you. It shimmers in the yellow light.

Levi hesitates a moment before accepting the jar, rather stunned at the scene that just played out in front of her. Either Weiss likes them an awful lot more than Levi had thought, or the Oni did something else to it in the process. "Ah- apologies, but we would ask you a question before we accept this gift in earnest. Growing up surrounded by Practice and Practitioners have left us rather wary of gifts. In purifying the clay, you did not make any changes or additions that would have harmful effects on us, right? We don't mean any offense, of course."

“None that we are aware of child. As we stated, the changes will be more fragile but it will be free of the Abyss’ touch.”

You can’t see his face but Schwarz almost looks... betrayed. He gets up and storms off through the door. He slams it shut behind him.

The wall vibrates, and the door is gone.

Weiss sighs.

“It may be best if you leave.” they say, “You are not at fault, but we do not wish to offer you anything else at this time.”

Privately, Levi takes a vicious bit of satisfaction at Schwarz's little tantrum. The man had made Rami and itself rather uncomfortable, and for that it disliked him. Outwardly, though, it simply smiled a bit ruefully at Weiss. "We believe it may be good for us to leave as well. We have much more of the City to see, after all, and it seems like a bad idea to linger with your partner in such a mood."

It takes another sip of tea, finishing the cup, then stands, jar of clay in one hand. "See you again, Weiss. It was nice meeting you."

And after any parting remarks from Weiss, it leaves their shop, the Emissary (presumably) in tow.

You walk for a few minutes before the Emissary speaks up.

“Would you like to continue further, or would you like us to escort you back to the exit?” the Emissary says quietly.

Seafoam considers the question for a moment. There was much more of the City to see, after all, and they had, against all odds, rather enjoyed their visit for the most part. But... it would be wise not to stay for too long. As though reminding them, the sickly-sweet nothing-smell of the Abyss curls in Levi's nose, and she huffs and shakes herself to rid them of the scent. "We think it would be best to return to the station, yes. It... seems unwise for someone who doesn't reside here to stay for long, protected or otherwise."

She gives the Emissary a teasing smirk. "Don't worry, though. We'll probably be back soon. Much more to see here, after all. And we are ever glad to see more of you, dear Emissary." She winks at them.

["...Are you... **flirting** with the Emissary?!"]\*

*"yeah. would you not? they're really cute, and obviously into us."*

*["Yeah, and they're also in service to a ridiculously powerful group of Others and are an Other themselves! They might be dangerous!"]*

*! "Oh, hush, Rami. Let the girl have her fun." !*

*["I saw you making eyes at the Emissary at the grand opening, so don't you say a **damn** thing!"]*

“Come along then,” the Emissary says. Something odd is going on. They’re more monotone than usual.

The City contracts on itself, buildings folding together like paper. After a few seconds, the Train Station appears. It’s a large grey monolith of concrete and glass. Nothing at all like the place you entered from.

“We hope like to hope that you enjoyed your visit to the City,” The Emissary says, “Please visit us again.”

"Oh, uh, that was fast." The sudden shift in the Emissary's demeanor and in the environment is jarring, and Seafoam finds themselves having to take a moment to reorient. "Are... you alright, Emissary?"

A dread-slick idea begins to wend its way through their mind, but Levi does not speak it. Not just yet.

“We have been asked to perform our duties as an Official of the City. A member of the City has broken a law put in place by the Monarch, and so we are being asked to mete out justice. We would feel sad about this if we were able.” they say, staring at the sun atop the spire.

The idea is vindicated, and blossoms. Levi's face falls. "...Ah. We are sorry, regardless. We..."

Seafoam grits their teeth, and makes a noise like they mean to say a sentence, but there's no way to express the maelstrom in their head with words. Instead, they stop, take three slow, deep breaths, and separate again.

Levi says, softly, "We hope to see you again soon, Emissary." And gently, hesitantly, it lays a hand on the Emissary's shoulder.

The Emissary does not react. Their skin feels like smooth glass.

They wordlessly pass you a black envelope.

“Do you wish for anything else?” they say.

Levi tries not to let their non-reaction get to her, and half-succeeds. Instead, she focuses on the envelope, tucking it into her purse with a curious tilt of the head. "What's the envelope for?"

“Tickets. Two of them. One round trip each. You may give them to those whom you believe would not seek to do the City harm.,” the Emissary says.

"Ah, that's helpful. Thank you."

Levi makes to turn and leave, but the perfunctory mask slips from over its face again, and for a moment, Seafoam simply... stares. At the Emissary, at their blank gaze, at the hollow, horrible sight of someone who just a short time ago had been a person - running, laughing, having *fun* - and now has been reduced to a tool.

They blink, and Levi turns away again. But not before Amalia seizes the initiative.

"Um. Bye. Emi-ssary." She lifts her hand in an awkward wave, unused to fronting. Her voice is quiet, and childlike.

The Emissary leaves without a word.

You watch as the buildings close up behind them. Then you turn to the looming station before you.

You enter the door.

—

You’re back at the place you entered from, alone and unharmed. You don’t remember your journey back.

You check your belongings. The coin is gone, but everything else appears to be in order. One of the “return” holes on your ticket has been punched.

A quick check of your connections shows that nothing is out of order. You’re perfectly fine.

You check your phone. Only thirty three minutes have passed. It feels more like days have gone by however.

Upon noticing that the coin is gone, Levi frowns and looks at the jar of clay. "...You'd better be worth it for that."

Seafoam takes one last look back at the subway station. The air smells of stone, stagnation, garbage - and the faintest hint of Abyss-rot. The noxious smell is almost comforting, strangely enough.

*<< Sad. "...they didn't. say bye back." >>*

*[Consoling. A warm hug. "i'm sure they would have if they were able, ama."]*

*<< A nod. "mhm." >>*

Levi sighs, and starts the walk back to the hotel room they were staying in.

--Epilogue--

*Somewhere in the City*

“Weiss, you have been found guilty of violating the law of the Archons. What say you?” the Emissary said.