Day 20: A Hot Little Caper

Rival / Trick

She really shouldn’t be skulking about Palazzo Mercado at such an ungodly hour. Not without an escort. In this case, however, she really didn't have a choice.
Hernanda Contoulis had left her quill back in the Assembly Hall. It was fashioned from a feather of a Raxlian Flamingo, making it nearly priceless. What’s more, it was an anniversary gift. If she lost it, her precious Felicia would never forgive her.
Gone was the usual noise of clerks and statesmen bustling through the busy hallways to which she was accustomed, leaving an unfamiliar cadaver of what they should be. Only her own shadow remained as company. Skewed into a wiry caricature of herself by the final rays of sunlight which granted a fiery paleness to the corridors, of the kind that made them more unsettling by far than when she had to wade through darkness.

Finally, the ornate white doors to the Assembly Hall of the Cependian Senate stood before her. She unlocked them and passed through.
Every single step she took echoed through the vast quarter-dome. Rows upon rows of seats were arranged concentrically in descending rings around the stage. The back wall was made out of a single tapering window, behind which the ocean stretched towards the setting sun. Its lingering rays caught on the gently swaying waves.

She walked along the far wall, upon which a mural was painted in light gold and dark amber. It depicted a map of the world, or at least what cartographers were able to divine of it through the many tales of heroes throughout the ages. For Hernanda, who had walked past the wall for many years, that was her world. A world where the Sacred City was located on the left-most edge instead of the top, since the wall was long and rather than tall like a real map. In the Cependian Senate, the journey to Royal Makai went from left to right. Funny how an architectural decision can literally flip the world.
She climbed the stairs, her eyes peering for that large fluffy writing implement of pink and orange.
There it was.

By the spot she had seated herself when the Senate convened that morning. Hernanda picked it up from the bottle, only to discover to her surprise and dismay a red block of some kind stuck to its tip. It was soft to the touch, and at the bottom it said with black foreboding letters:

Whoever Breaks The Seal of Power Shall Be Devoured By Blackness.

The skin along her arm prickled.
What kind of joke was that? Still, she could not well leave her precious anniversary gift that way. She pinched the block between her thumb and middle finger.
Then pulled it loose…

“...And Madam Contoulis was positively drenched in ink.” The woman in large ornate dress of gold announced in a tone most serious.
The woman in blue snickered behind her fan.
“This is not funny!” The gold-clad woman rested her hand on her hips, “Honestly, Mr Qwadeur has gone too far now!”
“Oh… absolutely!“ The woman in blue wiped a tear off her cheek, “The sheer audacity of some people… They get the freedom to express themselves, and it becomes an excuse to behave like a juvenile baboon.”
“You, my friend pulled the words right out of my mouth! Oh, the audacity of some people… It’s enough to make my blood boil.”

Listening in on the gossiping women, the man in orange top hat and bright green coat, also present at the plaza, could not help but smile.
Already the talk of the town. They could spit venom all they liked at him. That’s how word of Mr Qwadeur’s Trick Emporium got around.

“And that, Madam Lungal, is how the bagel rolls here in Cependia!” Mr Qwadeur flourished his staff, smirking at the woman in black and peach dress sporting a fez.
“I guess you've outdone yourself. At least.” Madam Lungal said, shrugging at his remark.
“You would guess exactly right, Madam Lungal!” His smirk grew even more “Sure, going after the police chief, or the heir to the Lysandre Family, might do for an amateur like you. But I am a perfectionist! Only the chairwoman of the senate herself would do for my prants! That, Madam Lungal, takes cahoongas!”
“Cahoongas indeed, Mr Qwadeur.”
He pointed at her with his walking stick, “...You’re up to something. Aren’t you?”
“Why, Mr Qwadeur…” For the first time she offered him a smile, “Of course I’m up to something. You know me better than that. When have I ever not been up to something?”

“Inking Cependia's Top Cheese is not ‘something’. It’s everything. It should make your head spin and your fez jump off your head. But just look at you! Not even so much as a flinch. What do you have hiding up your sleeve?”
As if to demonstrate her point, she adjusted her sleeves in such a way as to reveal what was in them. “Mr Qwadeur… Have you considered that not everyone can be in full gallop all the time like you? The Carnevale is upon us, after all. Only three days left. Perhaps I am merely saving my top spiel for then.”
The colourfully dressed man sneered down at her, then his face quickly grew back into his excitable smirk, “Well then, Madam Lunga! Let’s both look forward to the upcoming Carnevale, and make sure it becomes a year to remember!”
“I will look forward to it.” Madam Lungal lifted her fez, “Have a pleasant day, Mr Qwadeur.”
“And to you, Madam Lungal!” He tipped his own hat with the same glowing grin as always, and they parted ways.

Mr Qwadeur strode back to his trick shop with a brisk pace, his smile quickly having melted away.
When he burst through the door, he was greeted with a pang, as confetti rained down.
“WELCOME, HONOURED CUSTOMER!” A short kobold in oversized red robes and long red cap danced into view.
“TO A WONDROUSLY WISTFUL WORLD OF WHIMSY!” A similar dog girl, but in green attire, danced in from the other side.
The red kobold gestured dramatically into the shop, “FOR THIS IS MR QWADEUR’S TRICK EMPORIUM!”
“WHERE EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE AND NOTHING IS THE WAY IT SEEMS!”
“WHETHER YOU’RE LOOKING FOR TREATS, OR TRICKS, WE CAN… CAN… Can…”
The red kobold wound down her energy, and her sister in green soon followed. The noticed that who entered was not just their master, but that their master bore on his face a forlorn expression.

“Is… Is something the matter, master?”
“...She’s up to something. I just know it.” He answered as he paced around the main area.
“Master, you’re worrying about Madam Lungal.” The green kobold suggested.
“Again?”
“What else could it be, Voger?” He said to the red kobold, “She’s always been the proudest of prideful! She's used to be the one with the joke shop of Cependia! Until now, she’s been one step ahead of me at every turn! When it comes to tasteless pranks, Cindy’s Slapstickery has been the place to go. But then I finally pull off something to outclass her, and... what? She doesn’t so much as flinch. What is she hiding?”

The green kobold shifted towards her master to take his coat.
“Thank you, Hanster.” He stormed into his office with Voger and Hanster in tow, slumping into his armchair.
“One way or another, I will figure it out!” He announced to them.

With his smirk returning, he pulled out a sheet from under the desk, “Behold, ladies, my latest creation! The Cheat Sheet! Imagine your friend in an attempt to get his accounts in order, when to his dismay, the ink will not stick! But at the height of his frustration, you offer another sheet… “
He flipped the parchment over, revealing that it had already been written on, “And reveal the message which he tried oh-so hard to write. Already eternalized in ink."
Voger approached cautiously, sniffing at the parchment, “But master… Are you saying…?”
“Yes. I have been keeping track on Madam Lungal’s correspondence. Make no mistake. I will not let myself fall behind after gaining a lead.”
Hanster gasped, “I had no idea master would ever resort to such heinous methods of deplorable nature. So what does it say?”

“Here.” He handed it to Hanster, “You read it out.”
“Dearest monsieur… blablabla… Best wishes… Ah, here! It says, the Banquette at Palazzo Mercado is, as you know, a momentous occasion where great leaders from across the world gathers to partake in the good mood of Cependia at the height of the year. Not least of which will be the Grand Master of Meruvia herself. Her seat will be at the sixth table at the third position. There I have placed out a special treat. Yes, the very whoopie cushion I specifically requested from you…”
“A whoopie cushion? On Catalina’s chair!?” Mr Qwadeur jumped up, “That’s her plan? My goodness! She really is a genius! Such deviousiousness! Such audacity! Such outrageous vulgarities against the most crucial target!”
“She is so dead.” Voger pointed out.
“She is extremely dead!” Mr Qwadeur cried, “We aren't talking about some Cependian dignitary, who practically belongs in bed with the scandal press! This is a leader of a religious order! Catalina is too dangerous to mess with!”
He took his hat off, running his hand through his thick lockes.

He knelt before Hanster and grabbed her by the shoulders, “We have to stop her!”
“B-b-but… I thought she was your enemy.” Hanster stated as she was shaken, “Shouldn’t we just leave her to fry?”
Mr Qwadeur stood upright and tapped his own chest with his knuckles, “But she’s my enemy! I’m not gonna let some knight too wound up for a decent laugh vanquish her for me!”
“So…We go and talk to her about what she’s gonna do then?” Voger suggested.

Mr Qwadeur’s face drained of all colour, “We… We cannot do that! If she found out I have been spying on her… No. That is out of the question. The matter of fact is that we have the perfect prank on our case. The only thing we can do to stop it at this point is to pull off the perfect anti-prank!”