Chance Callista was a private eye who prided himself on being able to take any disguise and slip into any role in order to dig up the information he needed. He wasn't picky about jobs he took either; he did several gigs for people who wanted to track down exes among other folks of ill repute.
After getting Krampused, Chance ended up as a doll with a blank face - perfect for drawing on. She takes new roles around Toyland based on the face that's drawn on her and who drew it, and typically ends up with play brain easily. (She also comes with a wide variety of outfits and a re-recordable voice box!) She now goes by CC, which stands for something different based on which role she's playing.
Pictured above is CC (Cubic Centimeters) working for @anachronist42's Dr. Darling.
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A vampire who's the engineer of the Midnight Run, a monster train. It mostly runs at night and caters to the supernatural. The Run is neutral ground - anyone can ride it and rest assured that they'll be safe while onboard.
One day, though, a mysterious force derails the train, which leads to a mundane mortal taking pictures of Lulu and the Run. Now Lulu has to both protect herself and the Run from whoever wants to do them harm - all while avoiding the increased scrutiny from the mortal world.
"But I do!" CC whipped her index finger forward, aimed squarely at the figure in the center of the group. "The mastermind of this whole affair is... you!"
--
The day had started promising, CC thought. DeWitt Chapdelaine, her boss and mentor, had stayed out too late the night before and had called out with the brown bottle flu. That suited her fine. She couldn't deny that the old man knew his stuff, but he was also an asshole. Nothing she ever did would be good enough for him – at least, not now.
"You will acknowledge me," CC murmured to herself as she looked at the portrait of Chapdelaine that hung behind his desk.
But that was all the time she would devote to him today. CC was in charge of running the agency today, so she needed to be on her A-game. Whoever she got as a client today, she would solve their case faster and better than the old man would.
That thought lasted 23 minutes before CC got bored. She'd already solved the crossword, the sudoku, the junior jumble, the secret message hidden in all of the comics, the Slylock Fox, and now she'd resorted to reading the articles. Half of them were about events she'd already caught up on from the news aggregator on her phone and the other half were poorly written op-eds. God, she thought, the Gray Lady had fallen so low.
The local rag was next. That one was always more useful to CC – as an investigator, knowing the local goings-on was non-negotiable – but the real stars of the show, as it was every other day, were the wanted ads.
"'LFT salve, offering beehive'... 'Wanted: terrible chef for Ramsey/Kutcher joint'..." CC chuckled quietly as she let her finger trace down the columns of exhortations. It was the second-to-bottom one in the third column, though, that made her take her feet off the desk and sit up. "'LF: 16 people interested in getting stronger. Meet at the lot across from Pies Are Square in Kearney..."
CC finished by reading the date and time. "Wait," she muttered. "That's today. That's in two hours. Shit." Her coat was on, the lights were shut off, and the door was locked before she finished the invective.
--
CC wasn't an idiot. She didn't think that an ad like that would actually help her get any stronger than her regular soccer games did, nor did she think it would help her show up the old man, except in a tangential way that involved practicing her skills.
No, the ad was sketchy. Calling for multiple people like that? With almost no detail? Something was about to happen, and CC suspected it wouldn't be anything good. Kearney, in Nebraska, was a solid two-and-a-half-hour drive from the agency's location right on the border with Iowa.
CC made it in two hours ten.
She parked in the lot of a gym that was closed that day, sliding her 15-year-old Kia into the only empty spot amidst the few other drivers who'd had a similar idea. Don't be in a hurry to park close to your target – that was one of the first things the old man had taught her, alongside how to make coffee and what his order was. In deference to the cold, though, CC only parked two blocks away. Thankfully, zipping her coat up and pulling her hat down was an effective enough disguise for what she would be doing.
The lot was empty when CC reached it. Well, perhaps vacant was a better word. There were plenty of sandbags, dusty shovels, and piles of dirt, but not a single person, as if the Rapture had interrupted a squad of would-be treasure hunters. She watched the lot from the café across the street – their blueberry pie was like heaven – and for a solid twelve minutes there was nothing.
"Shit," CC mumbled under her breath. Whatever was going to happen must have already happened – or maybe nobody showed up at all. It was a possibility, even if she doubted it. Either way, she paid for her pie, tipped 100%, and crossed the street.
She stood at the threshold of the lot. "Yeah," CC muttered to herself, "it doesn't look like there's much happening. I should just head back to the office." She took a step forward. "Maybe the old man just won't"
---
"find out," CC finished as she completed the step. She blinked. Without any sort of intervening state, she had moved from the vacant lot to a... what was this place? Some sort of arena? It certainly had some Roman aesthetics, even if the columns left something to be desired and the sand covering the ground wasn't nearly fine enough to be legit. Something was in her pants pocket – a key – that hadn't been there before. She glanced around, and as she did, sixteen other figures popped into existence in what she assumed to be the same way that she had. At first glance, there didn't seem to be any commonalities among them all, aside from a certain, ahem, melanin imbalance between her and most of the rest. Some of them looked panicked, others determined, still others trying to scope out the crowd, but it was evident that all of them were surprised.
They barely had time to stammer out confused expletives before a voice fell into the arena like snow – shining, bright, and leaving a bite in the air. "Welcome, welcome, one and all! I'm so glad the sixteen of you could join me today. You're here because you want to become stronger, yes?"
A murmur of baffled assent rolled through the crowd.
"You've come to the right place, my friends – the right place indeed. Robo, Kero, give 'em the lowdown."
Timed perfectly, two others popped into the arena. They both stood around four feet tall – one of them looked to be a robot in the vague shape of a humanoid, all sleek silver, slender limbs, and black panels, while the other was someone in a frog mascot costume with some kind of purple sludge oozing to the ground from its mouth.
Hm.
CC revised that description in her head. It was a living frog mascot costume that was dripping some kind of toxic sludge from its mouth.
This was a little above CC's pay grade, she'd admit. Initial instincts told her that some kind of magic was at play here, while her second thoughts corrected that to advanced technology. Not that that made the prospect any better; she didn't know of any technology that would enable instant teleportation, let alone the robot. Maybe someone had got the jump on her? Drugged her and black-bagged her? Not impossible, but... CC shook her head. It would remain inexplicable for now. An answer would come later. She just had to stay calm.
"Welcome to the Colosseum!" the robot and the frog said in equally fake chipper affects. "We are Robo and Kero, and we'll be your guides for these two thrilling weeks. Over the course of this fortnight, you'll become stronger than you could ever dream of. All sixteen of you will…"
They stopped.
Kero, the frog, nudged Robo. "Seventeen."
"Seventeen." Robo nodded. Neither of their expressions changed, though it would have, CC thought, been just as noteworthy if they had.
They looked back to the crowd and returned to their script in unison. "All seventeen of you will undergo harsh trials and work harder than you ever have before, but you'll come out the other side with fire-forged friendships and true strength of body and will." A gesture to the blue, cloudless sky. "Our master, the Emperor, will be watching you all every step of the way, designing workouts and tests customized to you. In your pockets are keys to your lodgings, which you can find by exiting the Colosseum through the west gate." Robo and Kero clapped their hands. "We'll begin tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM sharp! Be here by then!"
With that, the two of them disappeared.
--
It took some time for all of them to introduce each other, get a bite to eat at the (surprisingly good) self-serve Mediterranean dining hall, and find their lodgings. Their lodgings turned out to be a spartan dormitory: two people to a room furnished with two beds, two desks, two chairs, two closets, and not a lot else, though CC was surprised to see that the closets did have properly-sized clothes in them.
Not that she planned to be there long enough for that to matter.
There were nine rooms, which was another thing that surprised her. The ad specified sixteen people; the total of seventeen had thrown the mascots. CC figured she was probably the extra one, given that she arrived at the lot late. But then, she had been the first one in the Colosseum… hmm. She'd need to puzzle on that one later. Why were there nine rooms? Was one of them intended to be empty? It also left one person on their own in a room – CC, in fact, and she was not upset about this.
She'd had the opportunity to meet everyone else and get a little bit of information about them, and she was hard at work at her desk jotting it all down in her notepad:
Fargo Falls, construction worker. 37, M, 5'11". Won't shut up and tells too many jokes. Wants to buff up his ailing bod.
Ryan Sykes, receptionist. 22, NB, 5'4". Wore a fake smile the entire time I talked to them, but was hiding some anger. Wants to move up in the company.
Abihail Moreno, gym owner. 41, F, 6'8". Taciturn, almost comically so. Could break me in half. Wants to leave her mark on the world.
Darren Marshall, cop. 24, M, 5'9". Very… enthusiastic. Would not trust him with a gun. Wants to "keep the peace".
Maye Goode, unemployed. 20, F, 5'0". Severely anxious to the point that I had to enlist the help of December to even talk to her. Wants to exist in the world.
December Anderson, line cook. 19, F, 5'7". Rash, hot-headed, very protective of Maye. Wants to help Maye get stronger.
Isaac McCoy, drummer. 32, M, 6'1". Lost in thought regularly. Likes to fidget with his sticks, which he brought with him. Wants his band to make it big.
Orlando Liber, programmer. 24, M, 5'5". Acerbic, crude, easily riled up. Wants to get in shape to impress someone.
Luna Brightstone, entertainer. 36, F, 6'0". Loves to be the center of attention. Skilled at sleight of hand. Wants to be renowned the world over.
Edgar da Silva, author. 61, M, 5'10". Self-centered and constantly name-dropping his books. Wants to dominate the charts.
Aristophanes Smith, drifter. ??? (est. 45), M, 5'4". Evasive, refuses to talk to anyone. All he said was that he was a "drifting virtuoso". Wants to ???.
Des Sharpe, lawyer. 52, F, 5'6". Very organized, rational, no-nonsense. Might be an asset here. Wants to be more intimidating in court.
Eloise Hertzfeld, retired teacher. 89, F, 4'11". The kind of person who keeps a ruler on her just in case she needs to smack the back of your hands. Wants to be able to, verbatim, "crush a watermelon between my thighs".
Mina Ng, basketball player. 23, F, 6'3". Irrepressibly cheerful, loves dark humor. Total geek. Wants to best the men's basketball teams.
Chuck Darkly, librarian. 49, NB, 5'7". Hit on me relentlessly. I kicked them in the shins. Wants to be irresistible. Shoot me now.
Wallace Fuchs, firefighter. 26, M, 6'0". Dead set on pushing the power of friendship and teamwork and the like. Wants to protect his loved ones.
CC stared at the list. A few of the names stuck out – people she'd already bookmarked in her head for being worthy of further investigation, whether for being reticent, obnoxious, useful, or suspicious. She closed her notebook, stood up, and stretched. Time to give her room a more thorough once-over.
--
The morning came around quickly; CC gave it even odds as to if it was exhaustion or some kind of drug. After a jog around the dormitory, a shower, spending a bit of time with Luna and Mina, and a quick bite to eat at the dining hall (she'd never had shakshuka before, but was pleasantly surprised), she was in the Colosseum just before 7. As she had been yesterday, CC was once again the first to arrive; the other trainees ebbed in one by one with various levels of tired and cranky written across their faces. Light conversation tinkled in the air, and CC wandered here and there to pick up on what the topics du jour were. Only her and one other weren't talking at all. CC made a mental note.
"Good morning, everyone!" the voice from nowhere – the Emperor – said. The voice had clearly been disguised with clever modulation; it wasn't familiar to CC, but if she considered the ranges of what it could have originally sounded like... "What a beautiful day, am I right? I hope all of you slept well in our fine Grade-A suites! We're really going to get started in earnest today, so make sure you bring your best selves! Robo, Kero, take it away."
The two mascots appeared just as suddenly as they had the day before. "You got it, master!" Kero said, making a heart shape with its mittens. "Guests, we're excited to announce the theme of this training camp!"
"Obviously, this is all about strength," Robo continued, gesturing around at the faux-Roman surroundings. "And one of the best ways to gain strength is through competition. So, for the next two weeks, you'll be competing against each other to earn the ultimate prize..."
Kero joined Robo to say in unison, "The power to change the world."
The trainees murmured amongst themselves excitedly. It was a vague prize, certainly, but tantalizing enough. CC kept her own tongue still and observed the others. Isaac and Edgar were whispering to each other and Orlando was saying something that was pissing December off, while Des and Abihail were watching the mascots, calculation running behind their eyes. Wallace was patting Ryan on the back with a smile, and Ryan in turn looked like they were trying not to choke him out.
It was Abihail who raised a hand. "What kind of competition?" she asked, her voice gravelly.
Robo and Kero nodded simultaneously. "It's what we call... a death game."
The mood in the arena chilled as silence fell.
"The best training is survival of the fittest," they continued. "The offer we make to you is this: if you can kill someone else here and get away with it, the Emperor will acknowledge your strength and bestow upon you the ultimate power."
Darren crossed his arms and glared at the mascots. "What do you mean, 'get away with it'?"
"After the murder," came the voice of the Emperor again, "there will be a trial, where the lot of you will try to puzzle out whodunnit! If you get the right answer, the killer will be executed! But if you don't... then the killer will get the prize and all the rest of you will be executed instead!"
The silence stretched out longer this time, and was only broken by Maye hesitantly saying, "But what happens after—"
"So get to it, trainees!" the Emperor continued. Robo and Kero glanced at each other. "There's a golden dawn rising ahead of you. All you need to do is reach out... and take it."
CC snapped her fingers. She had it. All of the clues had fallen into place. "Hold it right there!" she yelled, ensuring that all eyes were on her, plus whatever eye-analogues Robo had. "None of that's gonna happen, Emperor! I'm going to pull back the curtain on your dumb little stage play, right here, right now!" She stopped talking and let a moment pass.
When the Emperor didn't respond, CC smirked, an expression well at home on her face. She stepped out of the crowd and began a lazy pace back and forth. A hint of a breeze set the half-cloak she generally wore atop her work clothes fluttering behind her. "My suspicions started yesterday," CC said, projecting her voice enough for everyone to hear her. "I don't know if any of y'all noticed, but there's one more of us here than there should have been. The ad in the paper specified sixteen, and the Emperor and the mascots had been expecting sixteen. For evidence, think back to how the mascots had to correct themselves after mentioning how many of us there were... but the Emperor didn't." CC stopped in place and pointed to the mascots. "The two of y'all could tell that there were seventeen of us. Why couldn't the Emperor?"
Robo and Kero shared another loaded glance, then looked into the crowd. "Well," Kero tentatively offered, "that's because... um..."
CC shook her head with a grin and shrugged. "Don't worry about making up an answer, because I already have the real one. The Emperor hasn't been talking to us at all, have they? We've just been listening to a recording!"
The sound of a crowd gasping in surprise would never get old to her.
"Obviously the Emperor prepared these recordings in advance, and these mascots here," she continued, looking back at the group, "have been acting live alongside them. I'd bet that the mascots themselves have some kind of way of queueing up the proper recording to play! But that alone isn't proof. No, the proof came just now – when the Emperor cut Maye off. They didn't even answer the question she would have asked. Now, Maye, you were going to ask about what happens after the killer is executed, right?"
Maye flinched back at being called on, but she nodded weakly.
"That's a useful question to ask! No doubt the Emperor would have answered it, unless, of course, they weren't actually talking. Now, let's talk about why. Why would the Emperor go to all the effort of setting all this up through whatever means they used if they weren't going to be here while everything unfolded? Sure, it's possible that they're a 'set it and forget it' kinda guy, but I don't think so. No, my theory is that the Emperor is..." CC swept her arm across the crowd. "One of us!"
She would use that sound as her ringtone if she could.
"They're not watching us from afar, because then they could just speak to us remotely. But if they were in the thick of it with us, of course they'd need some way to drop exposition on us without saying it all themselves... or letting anyone think the mascots were running the show." CC began pacing again, stroking her chin. "Why? I don't know, but let me add more fuel to the fire. Our living arrangements were also obviously planned with 16 people in mind. So what did the Emperor do with an extra person? One room out of the nine was supposed to stay empty, but I got put there instead. Do you know what I found there?"
Pause for a moment to let them take it all in, she thought, aaaaand... there.
"There was a door in one of the closets. Not the one that my clothes were put in, either. And it was hard to see, what with how well it was inset. It was locked and I'm not good enough yet to pick a lock on a door with no knob, but it was clearly a way for the Emperor to get around. I'd bet that door leads to somewhere important that they couldn't be seen visiting. The important part, though, is that I visited another dorm room this morning before breakfast. I knew the occupants in question wouldn't say no to a little fun; once we'd finished up I gave their room a thorough examination." CC grinned. "Wouldn't you know it? No secret doors to be seen. I think this is thorough enough proof to indicate that the mastermind of all this, the Emperor, is someone standing here right now."
The stunned faces of everyone around her told CC all she needed to know.
"With that out of the way, let's talk about the Emperor's identity," CC said. "Like I said, their motives remain a mystery. But I don't need to know that, because I know who the Emperor is – and I'm going to unmask them right now!"
Fargo's eyes widened. "Wait, but that means—"
"You can't possibly know!" Eloise added.
"But I do!" CC whipped her index finger forward, aimed squarely at the figure in the center of the group. "The mastermind of this whole affair is... you!"
Abihail Moreno looked at the offending digit. Looked back to CC's face. Narrowed her eyes. On any other day, that expression on someone so much bigger than her would have given CC pause – but she couldn't stop herself now, any more than she could fly. "I'm sure," Abihail said, "that you have evidence of this?"
"Don't worry. By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to stop," said CC, sneering. The atmosphere grew heavier around them – but, CC was pleased to see, Abihail now found herself flanked by Luna, Mina, and Isaac, and it wasn't because they were taking Abihail's side.
"So be it," Abihail rumbled. "Show me what you've got."
"Gladly. Des, take notes. I know you have a notepad on you." CC began circling the group. "Let's talk more about yesterday. In fact, let's talk about the moment I pulled up into town. I don't know how far any of y'all came to respond to that ad, but I'm based out near the state line, Iowa side. The local parking situation is a mystery to me, and I was in a rush. I parked a couple blocks out from that vacant lot at a local business that was closed that day. At the time, the place didn't seem too special to me, but now... Moreno's Gym, that's its name. Abihail Moreno, gym owner, I posit that the gym is yours, and that you set up this whole stunt two blocks away from your gym! It's sloppy, it's lazy, it's you thinking you're smarter than everyone else."
CC put her hands up conciliatorily and kept going before Abihail could interject. "But hey, that's circumstantial. It could be a coincidence. A big coincidence, sure, but stranger things do happen. Let's keep moving. I was late to the party – I only stepped into the lot about twenty minutes after the meeting time – but I was the first one to show up here. I'm assuming it was some sort of first-in, last-out queue. What this means is that I got to watch everyone else arrive. Plenty of people were scared – " here, she gestured to Maye and Darren – "and plenty others were trying to keep their cool – " Aristophanes and Orlando – "but only one was counting everyone up aside from me, clearly to check if everyone had made it in. Guess who it was."
"But if you were the first one here, and you were one of the people who was counting people up, aren't you just as suspicious?" Des asked.
CC's eyes gleamed. She understood. Des didn't suspect her, but she was keeping her honest – making sure there were no holes in her story. "Impossible," CC said, pulling a creased receipt from her pocket. "This is my alibi: proof I was at the diner across the street until twenty minutes after the meeting time! If I were the mastermind, I wouldn't show up late to my own event. What if someone else got in before me and fucked everything up?"
Her gaze stayed locked onto Abihail. If that stony façade cracked just once, even for only a moment, CC would see it.
"But, again, still circumstantial. So is the fact that, both times we've all been out here, she's been staring daggers at the mascots, even when the recordings were playing. Almost like she's been daring them to step out of line! Whoever Kero and Robo are, they're not here by choice, and the mastermind wants them to remember whatever consequences are in store."
Everyone glanced to the two mascots, who adamantly said nothing. Kero, however, folded one hand into a fist at her side, extending her thumb. A confirmation – and one that many in the crowd wouldn't even notice.
Abihail swallowed.
"Let's not forget," CC said, giving Abihail the most obnoxious smirk she could muster, "the most damning evidence. Both times something hasn't gone as planned, when Kero and Robo had to correct the number from their script and when your recording played over Maye's question, the two mascots..."
Everyone was hanging on her every word. She could roll them like a yo-yo and they'd be begging for more. CC lived for this feeling.
"They looked directly at you, Abihail."
The façade cracked.
"Motherfucker," Abihail growled in a voice a few octaves up from the gravel she'd been gargling up until then. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" She took a step forward, but the three people around her grabbed her arms.
"Ah, ah, ah." CC waggled a finger in Abihail's face. "Nobody's getting hurt today – and that includes me."
Abihail's expression darkened. "I don't think so." Like they weighed nothing, she tossed her would-be restraints to the side. With a clap of her hands, everyone vanished – everyone except for her, CC, and the mascots, who were busy enough trying to get out of blast range. The ground underneath Abihail, no, the ground throughout the whole Colosseum rumbled violently as columns and stone and entire buildings disappeared into the earth. In their place rose a marble structure all around Abihail and CC that, at first glance, looked like a half-scale model of the Parthenon – but with all the details sanded off, like it had been recreated from memory. Rubble littered the floor of the Parthenot, rounded pieces of marble maybe six inches across in any direction; perhaps, CC thought, they were the leftovers from Abihail not knowing how much she needed to use to build this place. "Everyone else may get away from this scot-free," Abihail called from her position across the Parthenot, "but you, Callista, you're going to pay."
With another clap, Abihail hurled herself towards CC way faster than she should have been able to. CC dove out of the way, barely avoiding the body blow. It shook her, but CC knew she couldn't let it show. She jumped back to her feet. "Do you know," Abihail said, a scowl tearing apart her taciturn features, "how much went into this? Do you know how much I had to study to even create a pocket dimension, let alone outfit it the way I wanted?"
Oh, CC thought, so she's gone way off the deep end. "That doesn't matter," she said aloud. "Do you know how bad a mystery you set up?"
"What?!"
An idea sparked in CC's mind and she backed away from Abihail a few steps. "I mean, come on. You got this whole game set up for two weeks. You're clearly expecting there to be multiple murders – and you also clearly don't expect anyone else to survive by the end. This is a perfect set up for a death game mystery, and you went and ruined it with your- your sloppiness!"
"Shut up! I don't need to hear that from you!" Abihail flew through the air with a devastating punch, one that missed CC by a hair but grazed her with plenty of shrapnel from the crater it made. "It would have worked fine if you hadn't been here!"
CC skipped back further, just next to one of the pieces of marble debris. In one smooth motion, she kicked it up into the air and launched it at Abihail, hitting her in the face. Abihail hissed and stumbled back. "What's that saying?" CC said as she juggled another piece of marble on her foot, thankful that she'd worn the reinforced shoes. "If you don't expect the unexpected, you won't find it? Looks like you shoulda expected more." The second piece of rubble flew through the air, clipping Abihail on the side of the head.
Abihail made a low noise that reverberated through the ground and scythed her leg at CC, a blow that could have taken her head from her shoulders if CC hadn’t hurled herself backwards. "I'm not letting you leave here alive, Callista. I'm going to have to reset all this again. But at least I can take your power as a consolation prize!"
"Ha!" CC couldn't stop the laugh from bubbling out of her. "Reset it again? This isn't even the first time you tried a stunt like this?! Lemme give you some advice, Kitano: tighten up your game and learn how to keep your mouth shut!" Another marble lump, another direct hit – this time on Abihail's chest.
"Speak for yourself, Callista!" Abihail howled. Her movements were flagging, CC noticed. She just needed to push a little more. Another punch came CC's way, but without any of the ferocity CC sidestepped it deftly. "I'm going to break your jaw if you don't shut the fuck up!"
CC lowered her center of gravity and bounced from foot to foot. "Good idea, if ya can do it," she said, flashing Abihail the shit-eatingest of shit-eating grins. "Why don't I give ya a practical demonstration?" As she landed on her right foot, she let her tension coil up before springing into the air in an elegant backwards arc. A textbook bicycle kick – one that cracked Abihail squarely on her jaw. The impact lifted Abihail off of her feet, and when she landed, she didn't move to get back up.
--
"So how do I get out of here again?" CC asked, looking at the two mascots. For the first time since she'd seen them, Kero and Robo actually sounded... calm. Relieved. They'd removed Abihail's body, promising to take care of her. CC didn't know if that meant Abihail was alive or dead, and she couldn't be bothered to care.
Kero and Robo – no, Paz and Jacky, they'd said – looked to each other. "We should be able to let you out the same way the Emp— Abihail sent everyone else back. Once you have the power to edit this space, it's theoretically easy," Jacky said.
"We've been able to collect that from her," Paz agreed. "This is going to be our home. Best if we know how to spruce it up."
Jacky leaned in conspiratorially. "I don't think it's as hard as Abihail made it out to be."
"Whatever suits you." CC gave them a one-armed shrug. "Now would be choice. I need to get back to the agency."
Jacky and Paz nodded simultaneously. "Then we'll just..." Paz said before trailing off. "Huh. Are you sure that's the world you want to go back to?"
CC narrowed her eyes. "I'm tired. What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Your signature doesn't originate from the world you were pulled from." Jacky tilted their head. "It's not a problem, it's just weird."
"Yes, whatever, send me back to where I came from. Did you not hear me say I'm tired?"
The two mascots clapped their hands together. "As you say! Maybe we'll cross paths again!"
"I hope not."
--
CC arrived back in reality less than five minutes after she'd departed, which she checked and double-checked on her watch, her phone, and her car's clock. She couldn't explain it, but it did really seem like some kind of magic was at play. She'd have to put in a lot of time, she knew, to disprove it. For the time being, she'd get back to the office and take a nap.
And then after that, maybe she'd trawl the want ads again for a better mystery.
Merle of Dionaea, a fairy from a clan that used to be hidden deep within a magical forest, but thanks to modern civilization is now not far from a small city.
Merle was attacked by a badger at one point that resulted in the loss of her left arm, her left eye, and her wings. Her clan had the means to save her life but not accommodate her, so she spent most of her days in a knothole in a tree, waiting for people to come talk to her or spend time with her or anything really.
One day, a mysterious vehicle appeared at the edge of the forest. Merle managed to get out of her tree and stow away, eager to do something, anything, new with her life. The vehicle was in fact the Last Dance, a spaceship owned by the star-hopping immortal rock band the Cosmic Generation (in town to play a small venue under the guise of HUGG, a KISS tribute band).
On the ship, the band had a toy keyboard that was Merle's size, and she pulled it into a hiding spot to try it out. Unfortunately, the hiding spot was an air vent, and after a week or two of thinking the Last Dance was haunted, the band found her.
The ship's engineer (also in charge of pyrotechnics) thought that designing tiny prosthetics would be a "fun way to kill an afternoon" and set her up with a cybernetic eye, arm, and wings. (The wings are also hard light and can appear and disappear at will.)
Now she plays keyboard for the Cosmic Generation under the stage name Requiem, adopting a persona that's inspired by the knights from her clan - larger than life, crude, and unflinchingly confident.
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Nina Steele, a young heiress from the 1920s. Her family owns the luxurious Steele Point on the outskirts of Silent Springs; she regularly hosts balls there for the crossdressing community of the era.
At least, that is, until her untimely death.
Flash-forward 100 years, well after the last of the Steele family has died. Steele Point is lonely and quiet. Nina is eager to have people around again. So she puts an ad in the paper for a room to rent, hoping for someone fun to respond.
Eventually, she ends up as CC Callista's assistant, possessing a pair of her old reading glasses so that she can tag along to crime scenes. She lets CC see in the dark and through walls, and offers useful advice. (At least, so she says.)
