C91Industries/Works/Veridae and the Plight of Maiden Curse [STORY]

“Curse!!” Veridae yanked open the doors of the local pub, confirming her worst fears. A hurried evening run through town brought her to a dodgy alley, wreaking of cheap liquor, serviceable ladies and probably many other unscrupulous activities one would not see in the afternoon. Being a professional sorceress, she would never be caught dead in such a place if not due to completely dire circumstances, but with Curse in her life, she could count on nothing.

It had been almost a year since the “event” took place, and it took much arguing with the head mage, the Institute and other higher-ups to allow lodging for Veridae’s unusual study subject. Finding that it would be far more favorable and humane to keep him in her home as opposed to being thrown into a dank prison and treated like a confused animal for the rest of his life, she had to gain Curse’s trust - and the Institute’s - to make this work. She convinced him to stay in her quarters, likely because the alternative wasn’t better, but that didn’t prevent the troublemaking jester from finding some way to push his limits.

This was presumably his latest scheme. Nothing new, Veridae thought to herself. It was not uncommon for him to be quiet and behaved for weeks on end, spending too much time at the lake or just exploring by himself, then suddenly hatching some bizarre scheme or acting out his frustrations. It was boredom, of course. He couldn’t stand being cooped up in her mansion for long, and the citizens of Rusadia most certainly didn’t like him, so he spent all his time thinking of things to do and with few people to share his interests with, except maybe Kade. Curse having no goals and no positive social contact was a genuine problem.

Veridae stormed into the pub and was immediately greeted to the applause of drunken patrons - not for her, but for the brazen individual in question who was dancing his ass off for the pub-going audience, and quite literally so as his ass was fully visible beneath a hoop dress. A familiar shark toothed-grin formed on his face, the kind that was designed to give little children nightmares, having a blast as he danced away to music. The bar howled and whistled everytime he raised and shook his ass for them, or stroked his legs.

The sorceress turned pale. It was Curse, alright, yet somehow… different. His familiar checkered blue patterns were in place, yet they facilitated the design of a maiden’s outfit, adorned in long hosiery, heels, and a feminine gait she hadn’t noticed him express before. The bell tails on his head took a curvy, puffier shape, almost like pigtails. Closer inspection revealed a sleeker, more womanly body, in contrast to his skinny, sharp angles. Veridae transitioned from horror to second-hand embarrassment in a record span of seconds.

Veridae stormed over to Curse, not unlike an angry parent about to scold their child. “Curse!! What are you doing!?”

Her voice, even when raised in anger, was somehow distinguished and high-class. Years and years of tutelage amongst upper class schooling programmed this behavior into her brain. Express rage, but be courteous. She grit her teeth and balled her fists, yet her demeanor never went beyond stern.

Curse glanced back towards her. What normally followed with Curse’s response to being caught doing something was laced in sarcasm or contempt, and understandably so as he hated being told what to do. Granted, his ideas were often to his own and others’ detriment, so Veridae had good reason to talk him out of his plans. This time, something was different. Amid the cheers and yelling, Curse halted “her” dancing and smiled at Veridae. That was already a strange sign - she actually listened to him immediately.

“Good evening, wiccan!” He said in a vibrant, uncannily female voice. Even in this form, he still called her wiccan and not Veridae. “Everyone is so happy to see me! I love to dance! I’m so pretty!”

“Erm…” Veridae coiled up. She didn’t expect that response. “Um …Curse? Are you alright, dear? What’s all this? Why do you-”

A burly, chubby fellow sitting at a table cut Veridae off mid-question. The fizz from his beer mug just barely kept from spilling out as he raised his glass. “My dear, please show us some more of that precious bottom of yours!”

Curse turned around, smiling and bowing for the gentleman. “Yes, sir! I love my shapely butt and my long pretty legs! Stockings make me feel very pretty! I will show them for- ghah!!”

Veridae snatched Curse’s arm and dragged him away from the stage area. A collective set of groans erupted from the eager crowd. She pulled Curse to the side and immediately interrogated him.

“Curse, you please must tell me what the hell is going on. Do you need my help? Are you under some kind of duress?”

Curse produced a pouty frown. “No, I’m a pretty girl and I like to make people happy and dance! This is how people want to see me now! I’m a cute pretty girl and I must dance and show my ass!”

Veridae actually cringed. None of what he said strung together or provided a cohesive description of his perspective in any way. It was almost like a random series of words and thoughts. His expressions were so utterly genuine and devoid of cynicism or contempt, yet lacked any conviction whatsoever, and it happened in a way that truly unsettled Veridae. Curse was a lot of things, but a slow-witted bimbo happily dancing for drunken perverts at a rundown dive was absolutely not one of them nor should it ever be. This actually upset her. How could he allow himself to fall so low?

“Can you please tell me why you’re like this right now? Could you please be direct?”

“Yes! I just want to be happy and pretty and relinquish my terrible, brutish ways! I wish for you not to be upset with me for my wrongdoings!”

“I’m… not upset with you, dear, trust me. I’m just incredibly confused right now.” She rubbed her temples. “I need to think for a moment.”

“Would you like me to dance and show off my pretty legs for you?”

“No, Curse.”

“Okay, then.” Curse clasped her hands and smiled, contently watching Veridae. It was beyond uncanny seeing Curse’s crazed green eyes staring back at her with such poise and lightness. So much was happening that Veridae failed to come up with any scenarios to explain this. Curse was a very powerful entity, so it was hard to believe anybody doing this to him, yet it also didn’t make the most sense that he would do this to himself. Curse often regarded himself like some creative genius that was misunderstood for his actions; he would never allow himself to become so vulnerable and easy to control, not unless that was the point and this was some reverse-psychology maneuver that ended badly. He despised people that judged him even slightly. A bunch of drunks in a pub would easily be considered beneath him.

Veridae changed her strategy a bit. “Uh, would you prefer that I refer to you as a lady now? Is there a name I should use or just Curse?”

“I am happy to be called whatever you wish, wiccan.”

Veridae nodded slowly. “Okay, then. Might I convince you that we return home and you can do as you please there?”

She nodded. “Yes, wiccan, I am pleased to do as you say.”

A few things began to add up in Veridae’s mind. As this is happening, the bar gets into another uproar.

“We love you, maiden! Don’t leave us now!” Whistling and howling continued from the raunchy pub goers. The stink of rum filled the air. The thought of these lowlives getting off to Curse’s vulnerabilities angered her even further.

Curse turns to the bar, smiling. “Look, wiccan! Look at how happy and joyful they are! I have made them feel good! I make such a good maiden!”

Veridae grimaced once more, looking towards the shouting audience. A pair of drunks clanked their beer mugs together. “TO THE FAIR MAIDEN!”

Another faint voice echoed just afterwards. “Please show your arse again!”

Veridae placed a hand on Curse’s shoulder. “Yes, yes, that's all well and good, Curse. Now let's please go before this gets worse than it already is…”

“Of course, wiccan. After you!”

She stormed out of the pub, dragging the bimbo maiden right behind her. She looked behind herself to Curse, still trapped in her frilly maid getup out in public. Veridae considered looking for a jacket or something to cover up some of Curse’s female assets, but she had nothing on her being to conceal her. Dusk finally set in and street lights beamed down upon their forms. It was a narrow alley with not a lot of people, so it was a good time to evacuate without any further incidents. Veridae shook her head, then grabbed Curse’s puffy shoulders. “Curse, please be serious with me right now: can you turn back to normal?”

“No!” She said. “I am completely at your mercy! I am a poor helpless maiden! Only a strong wiccan such as yourself could possibly save me! Oh, look how weak and pathetic I am!”

“Oh, sweety, I’m so-” Veridae paused, thinking back to her observations from earlier. Curse was always willing to go to incredible lengths to prove some kind of point in his head - he never spent a lot of time arguing or trying to get people to understand his perspective. Veridae’s pity for Curse’s embarrassing predicament gradually turned into suspicion. Her brow furrowed.

“Curse… did you do this to yourself on purpose so I would have to turn you back? Are you really that daft?”

“Yes, that was my plan! Only you can save me from my girly, frilly plight, wiccan!”

Veridae facepalmed. “Of course… I knew it. What a fool I am, falling for your tricks again. Is this some attempt to gain my sympathy over something?”

“No, wiccan! I would not be deserving of your sympathy if I were intentionally being manipulative! I am simply not loved in this world unless I am someone else! If people truly want me gone, they may leave me trapped as a dumb bimbo for their own amusement!”

Veridae’s heart was broken. “Curse, you don’t-” But then she stopped again. More and more conclusions were drawing in her head. It was clear to her now that Curse wanted to prove that people would rather see him as an embarrassed fool than his true self, like that was supposed to prove a grand point and make him correct in the end. On the other hand, he had no control over his fate and could quite literally remain stuck like this if people wished, so it was possible there was some self-hatred or self-punishment going on. She wasn’t entirely sure. Many, many feelings and thoughts about Curse ran through her mind.

Also, whenever Curse set out to do something ambitious or dangerous, she was pretty certain he was trying to impress her. He likely wanted her approval. It was the most awful, contrived process in the universe, but she definitely noticed. This time, however, Curse was not doing something to anyone in particular other than himself. Nobody was being potentially harmed nor was there potential for wanton property damage. She wasn’t sure of the spell he used, but this scheme was definitely targeted at himself, and in a way where he couldn’t fix it without help. He was his one and only victim.

“Dear Curse, why don’t we just head home for the night? That’s all I wish to ask of you. Is that fine?”

“Of course, wiccan.”

Veridae crossed her arms and walked forward. “We will undo your little problem later tomorrow. Right now, I just want you home and at ease. Ugh…” She rubbed her temples again. “Headache…”

Quick character study thing to go along with my goofy image of Curse turned into a sexy dumb maiden. Was actually meant to be a memey April Fools themed pic, but it was late and then I completely forgot lol. May do a follow up to this sometime. Hopefully more world exploration/character study stuff like this will be common.