Chapter #33Explaining Yourself to Herself by: Masktrix   Niamh comes around on the floor of the shop, dressed back in her uniform, the Shelly golem standing over her. You’re hoping this will make a tricky conversation easier. Your donut date didn’t end until after Shelly’s curfew, so you’ve spent an entire day working out how to approach this conversation, even as you navigated Niamh’s life and a pop biology quiz.
The delay gave you time to move back to the shop and create a new mask using the buffer; Shelly is still safe in the church, covered with a sheet. You also made a quick detour to get more graveyard earth; at least you need a smaller amount for the current spell.
“Mmhm,” she says, blinking. At least the mask ungolemizes it’s wearer; even if she’s not as cool with things as you hope, you’ve learnt another rule of magic. “Shelly... did I slip?”
“Not exactly,” the golem says. “It’s involved with what I wanted to show you. Please don’t freak out.”
Niamh looks puzzled and begins to scramble up. Then she sees you – or rather herself – sat on the bench.
“Just listen and I can explain...” you begin. But Niamh doesn’t even hesitate. She’s already on her feet, grabbing Shelly and pushing the golem behind her.
“Shelly, stay behind me!”
“I can explain...”
“Stay back! Whoever, whatever, just...” contrary to Shelly’s request, Niamh Stirland is definitely freaking out.
“It’s OK,” your golem says. “Just listen.”
“Listen to what?” She grabs a sculpting knife from the bench and waves it at you.
“I’m not you, I’m...”
“No shit! Pardon my language.” The second part is instinctive, but makes you laugh a little. It seems to break the tension and gives both of you time to mentally adjust to what’s going on.
“It’s Thursday,” you say. “I had to borrow your identity for two days. You’ve been asleep, kind of. But I need your help to save Shelly.”
“Save Shelly? She’s right behind me!”
“No,” you say with Niamh’s sincerest tone. “She isn’t. This is sort of a...” you search for the right term from Niamh’s mind, “a Majora’s Mask situation. That isn’t Shelly, it’s a golem. And I’m not you, I just sort-of borrowed your identity. But I promise I did it for a good reason.”
“Am I going insane? This is a dream. This has to be a dream.”
“It’s not,” the golem says. “Just listen to, uhm, yourself.”
“Will,” you say. “I’m Will. And if you promise not to leave, I’m going to turn back into myself now.”
You hope that Niamh will do as you expect; as your Niamh mind assures you she will. You take the mask off, and the world goes black. Then, a little disoriented, you find yourself staring up at the shop ceiling. You sit up and look around. The Shelly golem is still guarding the door, while Niamh is sat on the floor of the shop, hugging her legs.
“You’re a… guy. A guy… who turned himself... into me,” she says slowly.
“I had a good reason,” you say.
“You stole my life. That much I get. You even seemed to talk like me just then. And it is Thursday, I just checked. I’ve lost two whole days. How could you act like me?”
“I had your mind as well as your body. I knew everything you do. Memories, thoughts, feelings.”
“You knew all my secrets.”
“Yes.” Niamh doesn’t really have any secrets. The most embarrassing thing you recall was her fondness for watching terrible Christmas movies on a loop every December.
“And Shelly is in danger?”
“Right.”
She nods slowly, letting it all sink in. Then: “OK. I’m going to need a lot more exposition here. Will-who-likes-dressing-up-as-me, do you also like Mario Kart?”
***
“There’s still one bit I still don’t get,” Niamh says, casually schooling you as you play on the console in her room – not because you’re friends, but because she desperately needs a distraction to process everything. It’s a huge change from her panic earlier, but it’s only come after two hours of vigorous cross-examination. The hardest part was telling her what happened to Shelly.
“What don’t you understand?” you ask, surprised only one piece of your story doesn’t fit together.
“Why, exactly, am I your girlfriend all of a sudden?”
“That seemed a good way to keep an eye on both golems. And, uh, so I could invite my friends around to play on your consoles.”
Niamh wobbles her head. “Always knew someone would only date me to get to Sonic.”
“I know it was a bit presumptuous.”
“You think?” Niamh turns to face you, hitting pause. “Just a bit? A touch? Getting your clone of someone I love deeply to knock me out so you could go waltz about, literally wearing my face, hanging with my friends and dating yourself? You have serious issues.”
You have no comeback. She continues, picking up the mind band you’ve shown her. The book and masks are scattered around the room. “And this band has Todd Baldwin’s entire brain on it? Surprised it’s not the size of a toothpick. Please tell me I’m not dating him, too.”
“Actually, I made him think he fell asleep in a study session and left him a note telling him to go to hell. He tried to apologize to me, by which I mean you, all day.”
“At least you got that part of me right,” Niamh says. “Could Mariah tell I wasn’t me?”
“I don’t think so. I do a pretty good Niamh Stirland. The only time I broke character was when I was looking at the book and she surprised me; I kind of snapped at her. But it might have been for the best. She seemed to think it was a math problem; she might be able to help understand how the book works.”
“Mariah?” Niamh says, lips pursed in amusement. “I thought you knew what I did? She’s full of it. Once, she caught me doodling and started going on about how I was solving Fermat’s last theorem. Just ‘cause she’s a math geek it doesn’t mean she’s any good at it, or even has a clue what she’s on about. Don’t peg our hopes on her.”
Our hopes. The very words feel so good.
“So you’re... in?”
Niamh scratches her short-cut hair just above her ear.
“I am. It’s a lot to process, but I’m in. Before that, though, I want to get up to speed on what these masks can do. I never took Latin, so you’re going to have to go through all of it line by line. I want to see Shelly, too. I need to see her. Need, do you understand? But I get we can’t exactly go now, or even tomorrow with all the madness that’ll be going on in town. First chance is really Saturday afternoon. And before then, I have one requirement.”
“Name it.”
“I get to use a mask. I need to see what these things can do.”
You’re a little taken aback. “Uh, sure. We’ve got masks of me, Shelly, a P.E. Teacher at my school and a fictional person we call Ruth. And you, I suppose. Who do you want to be?”
“Oh no,” Niamh says. “If I’m going to do this, I want the full pick-your-player-character experience. Tomorrow is Halloween. I want to go as someone else. And I have just the person in mind.”
Whatever Niamh’s idea, you can go along with her – you have two masks polished and just awaiting the final touches of the seventh spell: the grave dirt and the hair.
But while Niamh is probably thinking about Xavier’s, you remember that Joe Thomason’s gang sold the masks to Todd Baldwin in the first place. They broke in to Mrs Nolan’s shop, and you’re sure Niamh would be up for a little payback...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author