Closed Abject Inferno (Madeira)

[Kaleidoscope]

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30th Winter 516 AV

Synopsis :

The ten houses that make up Sunberth wake up one morning to find the charred, mangled remains of body parts left on each of their doorsteps. The home-owners are terrified, believing themselves to be the target of a madman. Yet secrets lurk beneath any pleasant face, and a terrible secret is blossoming in Sunberth.

Sunberth. Well-known as the anarchistic hub of Mizahar, the representation of this city of unorganised chaos in Alvadas was surprisingly unremarkable. Ten houses faced each other in a circle, ten houses that were tall, well-built, generally respectable and clean. From time to time, the Temple of Ionu popped in and out again, disrupting the order of the place. But never for long, and never unwanted. Despite the neatness of the circle the houses created, the plaza they created was host to daily displays of wild, antagonistic displays of unholy illusionary creations and abstract displays of anarchy. Whether this was random nudity, or loud screaming matches, public brawls, or lewdness in full view on the streets, the inhabitants of the ten houses remained quiet and unassuming.

Then, on the morning of the 30th, the flames of the forever-flickering fire at the entrance to the plaza seemed to flicker that much brighter for a moment as the muffled scream of a woman pierced the dew-glistening day. Soon, similar displays of disgust and horror manifested, as the woman's neighbours emerged to discover the grisly 'present' on their doorsteps. For outside each brightly painted and beautifully maintained door, lay a bloody, severed, and most importantly, burnt to a crisp limb. The body parts looked to be recently dismembered, and each seemed to be part of the same body. Some had chunks of flesh rather than arms or legs, but each house had an equal parcel of gore, and each was as seared as the next.

However, respectable citizens that they were, and before the crowds arrived to wreak their mischief, the residents of Sunberth held a brief, anxious meeting in the centre of the circle. Voices were raised, fears were voiced, but finally a decision was made. The body parts were pushed into a wheelbarrow and stored in the basement of Jalaia's house, the largest and most expensive house on the plaza. Jalaia didn't look to pleased with the arrangement, but the residents expected a Speaker or Listener or someone to come along and deal with it, and they soon tried to put the issue out of their minds as the day began to unfold.

Yet one of Jalaia's household, a servant girl named Puddl (somewhat of a joke name on the count of her father, who often said Puddl cried so much in infancy that she would drown them all), continued to feel uneasy. There was something about the whole situation that didn't feel right, apart from the obvious fact that it wasn't normal for non-illusionary bodyparts to appear on people's doorsteps. It wasn't until she stumbled, by complete chance whilst on an errand, into the blonde, waif-like form of Madeira Craven, that Puddl felt able to say something about it.

However, Puddl almost lost the opportunity to say anything at all. Madeira wasn't the most well-known of the Cravens, despite the name being relatively famous in Alvadas. Yet Puddl, as well as being a servant girl, was also an actress on the side, and had been part of the cast that had been helped by the girl when she had exorcised the ghost that had been terrorising the stage. She recognised her just as she was about to leave, and so instead simply exclaimed, "Madeira!" hoping the pronouncement of her name would attract her attention enough for her to form whatever she wanted to say. Truthfully, the young woman didn't know what to say, or even if it were Madeira's field of expertise. Yet seeing a familiar, if not friendly face was enough of a push for her to at least gossip about it to someone who might have an inkling into what had happened that morning.

OOCI cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken. Sorry Madeira!

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[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira stood on the porch of a house in the beautiful Riverfall section of Alvadas, her heavy pack of Spiritist tools pulled at her shoulders, and her crossbow bumped nervously against her leg. Her face was a mask of professionalism that did little to conceal how blatantly uncomfortable she felt.
 
"Your husband is not possessed, Ma'am. I checked. Please, you two just need to talk."
 
The woman in the doorway, an Eypharian with all six hands making angry, frantic gestures towards the young human, spoke in a shrill, frantic voice:
 
"He's wearing my makeup! I caught him trying on my stockings! That's not my husband, that's some woman who calls herself Shireen!"
 
Madeira counted the bubbles in the paint of the doorway. If she were to vault the porch and run screaming into the city, how likely would the Eypharian be to catch her? Would she rather be ripped apart by six beautifully manicured hands, or explain this oblivious woman's marriage to her?
 
"No, it's not... He's..." Madeira bubbled uselessly. "Really, you two need to talk."
 
Without another word the Spiritist turned on her heel and marched away as fast as she could, looking like a stiff, mortified doll. She had no clue how she was going to report this job, or lack thereof, to her family. But then, within the blackest pit of her soul, she realized they probably knew. She got the job from her cousins, the two favoured Craven brothers. Did they... Did they send her down here knowing that it wasn't real? Were they together right now, patting themselves on the back and laughing at the pathetic little start-up that pranced straight into their trap?
 
Those arrogant, evil bastards, she fumed silently, keeping to the privacy of her mind what she would never say aloud. Behind her the woman had followed her to the street and was yelling shrilly at her back as she walked away.
 
Several streets away she was still red-cheeked and stiff-legged when she heard her name called from the crowd. Under the stress of embarrassment and the prickly feeling of betrayal, something in Madeira's demeanour snapped and she whirled around angrily:
 
"MA'AM, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, YOUR HUSBAND IS-"
 
In front of her was not the woman she expected. Instead it was a girl her own age, wide eyed and on the verge of shocked tears.
 
"...Is wonderful." she croaked out, her face lighting up in an alarming shade of red. "Her husband is a wonderful human being. Hello. I'm sorry, you were not who I was expecting."
 
With some prompting, Madeira recognized Puddl from a job she worked last season. A disastrous job, she noted, as what little pride she had left withered and died. Over the next few chimes, after Madeira had apologized profusely for yelling at her, the two began to talk about what Puddl saw that morning. Madeira's curiosity was peaked immediately, and she latched onto every word she said with obvious interest.
 
There was something in Sunvadas that butchered a woman, burned the corpse, and then went out of it's way to display what it did for the entire community to see? If it was a murderer she could understand he or she cutting the body up and burning it to destroy evidence and make it easier to hide. But to lay the mutilated bits of corpse out for the world to see...
 
Puddl was obviously uneasy about the whole thing. But corpses and even murder were not new to the Spiritist. She was much more level headed speaking about the gruesome details of a horrific death than she was trying to avoid the love life of a confused housewife. In fact, she saw in the tragedy an opportunity to give her cousins their comeuppance. She could be sent out to sort out a fake possession, only to come back with a story of murder. And if this bizarre madness was the product of an angry spirit, even Madara might look on her with a small shred of pride.
 
"Puddl, maybe I can help. But will you show me the remains?"

[Kaleidoscope]

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Puddl jumped back at Madeira's unexpectedly aggressive greeting, but soon relaxed into a more normal state as she explained what had happened. She really, really hoped that the woman would help, and so exclaimed with delight when she agreed.
"It's alright Miss, you can call me Pudd if you like. It's what all my friends call me, so I just got used to it. It's so strange, this event. Madam Jalaia's not happy about it, now she looks a bit suspicious, with a load of body parts in the basement. But they couldn't just leave them out on the doorstep, I don't know if you've been to Sunvadas at all but we get a load of performers that visit. Ionu only knows what would happen if they saw them... well, I suppose they might think they were some kind of vicious illusion..."

The girl continued yabbering as she lead them through the twisting streets, passing a colourful woman who nodded sagely at the two passing as they rounded a corner and were confronted with the flickering inferno that marked the entrance to the plaza. Remarking cheerfully, Puddl said, "We're here, Miss!"

The two women walked through the entrance, with the servant girl leading the way. She wound her way through the clamour of the courtyard, filled as it was with all manner of oddities and Ionu believers. They played and danced with a shimmering grace with the explosions of illusions that filled the circular space, their colours reflecting on the cool windows of the surrounding houses. Puddl calmly ignored a man that suddenly grew five feet higher beside her, and skipped up the wide stone steps that lead to Jalaia's front door, a magnificent oaken thing proudly displaying a dog's head iron knocker.

Puddl stepped inside, and gestured Madeira to follow, as she shut the door behind her. Instantly, the outside noise cut off and a calm, peaceful quiet settled on them. The hallway they found themselves in was lofty and lavishly decorated with long drapes of beauteous fabric. Puddl showed Madeira to a small, leather-backed chair and asked her to wait a few moments as she found Mistress Jalaia.

As soon as the form of the servant girl disappeared up the stairs, a small, cream-coloured cat jumped with surprising gracelessness onto the blonde woman's lap and started purring... or hissing, it wasn't quite clear which. The cat placed a solitary paw on the woman's face for a fraction of time before running off again just as quickly as it had arrived when the unmistakeable sound of heels clicking on a stone floor signalled the arrival of Mistress Jalaia.

She was tall, with dishevelled, ginger hair lying in strands along the side of her face. Dressed in a long velvet dress, she looked about ready to go to a fancy dinner, but her expression was one of disapproval and surprise, with the smallest hint of stress showing in the crinkled lines of her high forehead.
"Puddl tells me you're Madeira... Craven, is this correct? I'm Jalaia Meredith. You weren't quite what we were expecting, but nevertheless, come this way. Come, come!" She gestured sharply with a click of her fingers, and Puddl scuttled off again as Jalaia swept past with a long stride, leading Madeira into a back room and then down into the basement.

It was dark until Jalaia lit a candle and went along the walls to light the lanterns that hung there. The basement was obviously a storage zone, and was filled with old baby stuff, an old bed that was riddled through with woodworm and several leather cases that bulged with belongings. Jalaia wrinkled her nose, and pointed at the wheelbarrow that contained the body parts. "What does this mean, Craven girl?"

The wheelbarrow was rusty, and heaped with the remains that had been found on the doorsteps, now hastily thrown in without a care. They were all chopped into roughly equal sizes, and all equally burnt into a crisp. The skin was just recognisably a pale golden colour, that of someone with a good tan, but there was nothing else that gave any indicator of who or what the person had been. Even the date of death would be difficult to define, due to the burns, although with much investigation a skilled practitioner might discover that the death was recent, and the burns even more so.

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[Madeira Dusk]

Puddl was a faucet of nervous energy. Madeira only had to prod her gently for the gossip before the girl spilled everything in a torrent of information stemming from the strange circumstances. It seemed Madame Jalaia was given the awful responsibility of keeping the mutilated body. And Sunvadas was frequently host to performers.
 
That last bit was interesting. Leaving such a 'gift' on peoples doorsteps seemed like something the more ghoulish of Alvadas’s many performers would do. The shock value of something like that would be great for performance art. The thought made her queasy.
 
Madeira let Puddl lead her through the twisting streets, and was even beginning to enjoy the earnest girl's company, when the great inferno came into view. The scene beyond was mass chaos. Whatever loose rules Ionu set for the other 'cities' seemed to collapse once the two women crossed into the territory. There was no unifying theme, no relevance to the city it was portraying, just madness and an inclination towards the bizarre. Madeira smiled. She saw their god in every facet.
 
Before long Puddl bundled her through a heavy oaken door and into a richly appointed hall, as far removed from the madness outside as was possible to be. But Madeira was not intimidated by wealth or the people who slung it around so easily. She dropped her bag beside her appointed seat and stared off into space as she waited patiently for the Mistress Jalaia.
 
But almost as soon as Puddl left, a cream-colored cat leapt ineptly into her lap. Not in any way an animal lover, Madeira was just about to shoo the troublesome thing away when the cat curiously put a soft paw to her cheek. Even a woman as firmly indifferent to felines as herself could tell this was not normal. Her eyes narrowed, and she was about to speak, when the brisk clicking of heels echoed down the wide staircase. The cat leapt away and disappeared just as a woman dressed in velvet and disapproval breezed into the room. Madeira got to her feet and held out a hand to shake.
 
"Yes, I'm Madeira Craven. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."
 
Introductions were swept aside with the snapping of Jalaia's fingers, and the older woman bid her to follow. Madeira made sure to give Puddl a friendly nod before following her Mistress down to the basement.
 
The lantern light set a grisly scene. The place was packed with old, useless or damaged belongings, and in the centre someone had piled the remains of a person in an old, rusty wheelbarrow like a gardeners worst nightmare. Underneath the musty smell of forgotten things, there was a sweetness in the air that reminded Madeira of barbecued pork. Jalaia pointed to the wheelbarrow, her nose wrinkled with distaste, and demanded answers.

"I'll see what I can do, Ma'am”, Madeira muttered, ignoring Jalaia's colloquialism. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, dropped her rucksack into the corner of the room, and set to work.
 
She resolved herself to treat this as any other mystery she would find in her line of work. Except that this time she was working with the wrong end of death; the body rather than the soul. Danmit, she should have insisted that Puddl and herself found Ssanya the Maledictor before she bumbled herself into this. At least the Dhani woman would have more experience with earthly remains than a Spiritist. 
 
But Spiritist training was all she had. So with that in mind she thought about her next step: the first thing she did when encountering a ghost was figure out who the ghost was.
 
With a grunt she took the barrow by the handles and steered it over to the worm-hole riddled bed. Then, as gingerly as she could, she lifted the corpse out piece by piece to arrange on the mattress. Each bit was equal in size, and probably ten to twenty pounds each. She tried to be delicate, but even so charred bits of skin eddied around her with even the most gentle of touch.
 
All this time she was intimately aware that Jalaia was watching her. Probably with disgust, and certainly with disapproval. Madeira cleared her throat. She wanted to cut the tension, but wasn't sure what was safe to talk about when your hands were full of corpse.
 
"Thats a... That's a very unusual cat you have upstairs." she said, going for nonchalance while she placed someones severed and charred head on their detached shoulders.
 
Once she had all the pieces on the bed arranged into a human shape, she discovered two things immediately: it was and adult, and female. She brushed the dusty residue of the poor woman’s skin off her hands and retrieved her rucksack. From it's depths she pulled a small eating knife, along with her old, much-abused journal and an ink stick.
 
"So, nobody knew who this woman was, right?" she asked Jalaia passively while flipping to a blank page of her book. "Well, lets try and figure it out. She doesn’t have any extra appendages, so she's not an Eypharian, Charoda, or anything exotic. And she's female, so that counts out Akalak..." She noticed the soft golden colour of the skin not fried to a crisp, and crossed out Symenestra, Myrian and Inarta as well. "That means she's either a human subset other than Inarta, since her skin is too dark, or something that looks human, like a Dhani or a Kelvic.” She circled the three in her book.
 
She flipped her knife open and poised it over the corpse's left arm. There she paused uncomfortably, only to take a deep breath and forge ahead. She sliced into the flesh, sawing hard with the dull blade, until she got to the deepest parts of the muscle. Immediately the smell of gummy fluids and pot roast filled the basement, making the Spiritist rethink her position on red meat.
 
"Well she's not..." Madeira stepped away from the corpse and brushed her hands on her thighs. "I mean, she hasn't rotted at all. And her skin is still, ah, crispy. She hasn't been dead for long at all. I bet her friends or family don't even realize she's dead yet", she realized sadly.
 
She turned to Jalaia, biting her lip thoughtfully. The nature of Alvadas meant you didn't have too much opportunity to know your neighbours, when your neighbours changed almost daily. But surely someone had to know this woman was missing.
 
"Do you know of any woman like that going missing here in the last day or two? Puddl mentioned that you get a lot of performers, maybe one of them stopped coming around?"