"So that's why Gunther found you sleuthing on the streets-- you needed the merits, and a skilled man like yourself could easily rake some in. Look, I'll set you up with a case as soon as possible, okay?" Vere gave Morrigan a characteristically winsome smile as he donned the guise of gregariousness he was becoming familiar with quicker than he'd like.
He had heard--as Olivette put it--Morrigan's whole (not really, he figured there was a lot more to it) life story. She grew up in the cold streets of Monastic Westwood, an old district further west of the city of Morlund. Located in the 30-17th Ward, it was a place for those who were abandoned by all but priests of various faiths.
There were more gods than one could count in the world of Monfrey, and ever since the reemergence of mystic powers, the stories passed down in holy texts became more and more believable. One of the Superego Fused led the church of The Armored Ghost God, who took Morrigan in from the streets and inspired her to lead the current path in life she led now.
She recounted plenty of the dark details of her life, the constant starving that plagued her growing up. It was partially what stunted the further growth of her height, and the continual agony was enough to almost drive her mad at the time.
"How glad I am that I didn't turn to crime that day. I would've found myself transformed in such a way that I could never look at myself again. From that day on, I swore that the only time I end life is when that life ruthlessly takes away others with no consideration or justification." Morrigan exhaled with a dulcet tone laced with memories of the past.
Although it wasn't much to envy, Vere felt a hint of that odious sensation arise from time to time in her recounting. In a way, he felt much closer to Morrigan simply because he deeply admired the will and the grit to change your life in such a tremendous way.
Yet he seemed to be walking beside a spotlight, his form cast entirely into shadows as he paradoxically felt even further than before. Her conviction to change tightened his conviction to commit to his mission.
'And I don't care who gets in my way.' Brewing underneath the sheep's skin was a dangerous, blackening storm. The wild throes of pure certitude mixed with the willingness to imbrue his hands in crimson were suppressed by the dampening cool of blue mist radiating from the Mystic Rami. He had [Suppressed] his [Refining] will, momentarily.
And all that was covered by a murky yellow-red blanket, sweeping the unnoticeable aggression underneath an amiable guise. The call for violence was abated, though this did not soothe the confused Vere.
Glimpses of bloodshed followed, his footsteps leaving sanguine tracks visible only to him. As he walked, he wondered--'Just what kind of man was I?'
The world visibly dimmed as if catering to answer his inquiries.
He walked not in the bright spotlight.
------
INTERLUDE!
Distorted figures made incoherent noises of disgruntlement as the unclear photo on the radio TV was reduced to static. Finally, a diminutive static humanoid figure slammed its fists against the body of the television angrily.
"T--N 0N -0- P-3C- 0- J--K!" Even the figure's speech was garbled; only the onlookers in the empty white room could understand them.
One made a smirk, a thumbs up, and an attempt. Then, grabbing the antennae as they relentlessly rammed their knee into the screen. With each connection of static to static, the reality seemed to shake and warp.
A seemingly object-headed figure chortled into the white void, obviously not taking these "efforts" very seriously. Then, as they made to get more...let's say popcorn...the static became opaque enough to view another scene on the TV screen.
The thumbs-up figure snorted derisively and waved their bucket of popcorn ruthlessly.
A clear voice rang above the incomprehensible scene.
"Thank you so much, Goodman!"
------
We return to our Warden duo, traversing underneath the blue tint of the B-Side. Before their eyes, the environment twisted and shifted, forming a path through a despondent terrain.
Dilapidated and ruined buildings marked the floor, some billowing smoke with the sputter of mechanical mysteries. There were traces of blood here and there, but Vere disregarded them, same as Morrigan.
The B-Side was just like this. It was an esoteric plane where the things the world had forgotten eternally laid. Strange entities played with cognitive power that twisted and shaped the very nature of the B-Side, along with the collective subconscious of society.
It was akin to a wasteland, a repository for the forlorn. Specters could even choose to walk in this plane, whether they were bound to the world or were simply avoiding the future afterlife for various reasons.
It didn't matter. If a soul was ever in danger of extinction, The Great Tapestry would simply pull on their thread of fate and cast them into various afterlives. It was the rule of the universe.
The scent of the area became a bit more pleasant as they progressed. As the world expanded before their perspective horizons, a large structure soon took form.
It was a ruined skyscraper, bent over and crumbling upon itself.
"There's where it is. Even though it's destroyed, that place is full of amenities." Morrigan pointed towards the broken skyscraper in the distance with satisfaction. She felt like such a place weirdly fit Vere.
"Huh…that's interesting. Alright, I'll assume you have a reason for letting me sleep in rubble aside from the shitty conditions of my wealth?" The goodwill the ghostly-looking woman displayed gave Vere a certain amount of faith in her actions. Not enough to dismiss her from complete scrutiny, but enough to allay it.
"Mhm! I can easily remember where this place is. Since the B-Side changes a lot and is quite surreal, landmarks are really important. Unfortunately, I don't have another SAD on me, or I'd give you one. I'll give you a chance to rest; when I have a Case for you, I'll send someone, kay?" Morrigan turned after saying this, eagerly waiting for Vere's reaction. The man spread his arms wryly with a slight grin as his lips curled.
"I'm poor, I'm hungry, and I only have one useable bullet. How can't it be okay?"
This prompted Morrigan's raspy yet endearing laughter. "That's okay; you can't starve on the B-Side!" She said, looking for any hint of confusion in Vere's eyes before she continued. "Wardens can feed a bit off of thought power, and the B-Side is at least proven to partially manifest from it. So I'll pay for a meal for you when I come to fetch you."
"I guess that'll be fine. Alright then, chief lady. With that note, I'll dare to part from you." Vere started walking off, waving his hand as he parted as a form of acknowledgment. The action seemed to be made out of courtesy, but there was a gruffness to it, in a way.
Morrigan wondered where he came from, going her own way. Soon enough, she walked straight into a portal, leaving the B-Side.
——
Vere stood before the skyscraper for a solid five seconds before something changed. From a distance, a speck rapidly enlarged in his perspective. Inviting steps preluded the woman that sidled up to him almost provocatively, her sashay inherent in how she walked.
The woman had a glorious beauty encased in a 5'6 and a half frame. Her striking blue hair was as natural as the sea, and a transparent, craggy horn adorned with jewels aplenty sprouted from the leftmost side of her forehead. She had a small bun updo that fell down like waves, and her eyebrows were curved downwards and fine.
She wore a parted cheongsam with exquisite branch patterns dancing along the fabric. Her exposed bits of flesh had several odd stickers, and there were patches of skin where the porcelain color of her skin was tinged in blue pigment, much like her plush lips. A tattoo with odd, wobbly stylized font spelled out the words "Classy Gal."
Altogether, she had a curvaceous physique. Though her chest was small, it seemed as if all its volume went straight down to her waist and hip area, to say nothing of her backside. Although Vere wasn't keen on ogling her, he felt slightly attracted to her allure. This was quickly reduced to nothing as soon as it came, as he thought with his upper head only.
"Geez, mister! You know, it's okay to stare. Don't take everything so seriously; it's not like you, Vere." The woman spoke as soon as the haziness in his eyes was dispelled. The words struck a chord in his psyche and aroused his suspicion, seeing the familiarity with which she spoke.
"…Who are you? Did I know you?" Beneath his words was underlying hostility that helplessly arose within him. His suspicion was a precursor to his awareness, his fingers itching as they inched towards the handle of his revolver.
"You may not know me, but everyone I know knows you. Or who you were. But that's alright, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm Othello~." She smiled warmly as her horn slightly glowed. Vere's hand fastened on his holster.
"Don't be like that~ I'm here to help!" She slowly blinked, waving the man down in an attempt to communicate her harmlessness.
"Okay, then would you do something rea~lly helpful for me?" Vere's face softened and took to an amiable, almost mischievous expression.
"Mhm! A lot of things are on the table!" Othello readily nodded.