Chapter Text
“I can't believe you kidnapped me! Is lying to me not enough?”
“I didn't kidnap you, I simply took my body where it's safe.”
Randall- In Descole's body- sat on the couch in the airship in front him, looking furious.
“Sure, and stole Hershel's in the process!”
And of course, with his luck, Descole was currently in Layton's body. He would've preferred anyone else (except maybe the child), but here he was.
Being in a body that wasn't his was uncomfortable. The clothes felt wrong (and that stupid hat on his head, that unfortunately he couldn't just get rid), his limbs felt wrong, his posture, his eyes- Layton needed glasses desperately, it seemed. He was taller than Descole, too, not significantly, but enough to throw him off, and wider as well.
Still, a setback like this didn't matter. He'd figure out how to swap back their bodies, and then he'd kindly return Layton to Monte D'or. Simple. It was probably some Azran device that did it- Descole could explore the ruins and hopefully find the reverse.
“And this hat,” Randall complained. “And the- everything. Don't you get hot in this?” He pulled off the boa, then the cloak, then the hat, spewing curses.
“And this is exactly why I took you. I don't need you- stripping down my body in front of everyone. You- leave that on!” He lunged forward to grab both of Randall's wrists before he could pull off the mask.
“Are you serious? You can't expect me to just sleep with this thing.”
“Ideally that won't be necessary. I want to get this resolved as quickly as possible.”
“Don't you think everybody else could help with that? Hershel is the one who figured out the mask of order! Henry is familiar with the ruins!”
“I don't care what Layton figured out. I don't need him for this.”
Randall yanked himself out of Descole's hands with a frustrated growl. It would have been laughable if it came from Randall himself, but it didn't sound all too strange in Descole's voice. “You lie to me about my friends, manipulate me into doing your dirty work for you, then you kidnap me and expect me to cooperate?”
“Please, Ascot, you were all too enthused to do all that yourself. I don’t need you to cooperate. I just need you to sit here nicely while I figure this out on my own.”
“That’s cooperating! I’m not going to sit around your… stupid little airship waiting for you to figure this out. I did too much rotting in that hotel room already. Where did you even get this?” He waved his arm around to gesture around him at the airship. If it wasn’t obvious by his voice, his jerky movements made his anger pretty clear. Descole didn’t care all that much.
“I bought it, not that it matters. Now just… do me a favor and wait here. I’d rather not have to restrain my own body.”
“Do you a favor? Do you hear yourself?”
“Master- oh?”
Both of them snapped to attention at the new voice, and Descole whirled around when Raymond entered the room, looking more than a bit baffled- and the man did not startle easily. He could imagine how this situation would look to an outsider- Layton inexplicably in the airship, arguing with Descole. Still, Raymond was perceptive, and his eyes flicked between Descole and Randall, wisely staying quiet.
“Ah, Raymond,” Descole said. “Apologies for the… situation. An Azran device appears to have… swapped our bodies. I’m in Layton’s body, as you can see. And Ascot is currently inhabiting mine.” It was hard to hide the distaste in his voice.
“You make me sound like a parasite,” Randall frowned. “I didn’t manipulate or kidnap anyone or disguise myself as someone. We spent months together and I haven’t even seen your face!”
“And you’re not about to- quit that.” Descole restrained Randall once again as he went to remove the mask. There was a moment where they were fighting against each other as Randall struggled to pull himself out of Descole’s grasp.
“You don’t want to hurt your body, do you?” Randall said.
“And you don’t want to hurt Layton’s, yes? Quit fighting!” Descole cried out in surprise when Randall bit down on his arm, and he managed to use that moment to wiggle out from under Descole and bolt across the room. He pulled off the mask to toss it to the floor, and stopped in front of the large front window of the Bostonius. Descole mentally cursed now about having brought Randall in here- with how dark it was outside, the window provided a perfect mirror.
It was like watching a train wreck in action.
“... You’re Desmond Sycamore.”
“Put the mask back on, Ascot.”
“What and… unsee this?” He touched his hands to his face, seemingly in shock. “What happened to make you this?”
“That is none of your business, and as far as I'm concerned, that naive fool Sycamore is dead. Put the mask back on.”
“Perhaps we should all sit down and talk, master,” Raymond cut in. He'd been standing back, seemingly, watching these events unfold. He was keeping it shockingly together.
Randall shook his head. “I don't need to talk about any of this. I need to get back to my friends and- help them figure this out! I know the Azran!”
“And I have more knowledge of them than any of you combined. I've been studying the Azran longer than anybody else. So I will figure out this curse and you will leave me to it.”
“Like you figured out the masks? Hershel did that.”
“I don't need that-” Descole growled in frustration. His anger was building and he itched to grab a weapon he didn't have. (Nor was there anything he could use it against). “I don't need him, or anybody. Layton acts like he has all the answers, but he's nothing.”
“What did he even do to you?”
“He's done nothing but repeatedly get in my way, and I will not allow that to happen again!”
“We have a common goal! Do you think Hershel wants to keep us swapped?”
“Obviously not, but I work far better on my own.”
“Do you? Is that why you pulled me into your- ridiculous plans?”
It was taking all of Descole's power to not launch himself at Randall right then and there, only the knowledge that that was his body was keeping him in place. His blood roared in his ears. This was getting ridiculous, and he was getting nowhere with this.
“I'm going to kill you when this is all over, Ascot,” Descole growled. He was shaking. “And destroy that silly little town of yours all over again.”
He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he almost whirled around to shove whoever it was away- before he luckily remembered Raymond was there right on time. He took a shaky breath.
“Master, perhaps you should take a step back,” Raymond said. “This certainly isn't a pleasant situation. However… I'd argue that Mr. Ascot is correct.”
“You can't be serious.”
“This isn’t meant to undermine your abilities, but this does seem to be a situation best sorted with help.”
Descole growled something indecipherable, but the fight fizzled out of him too quickly. It was difficult to argue with Raymond. They’d been through enough together that Descole wasn’t able to simply disregard his input. As much as he hated the idea.
“Fine,” he snapped. “I'm done arguing about this.” He pointed aggressively at Randall, making him flinch back in surprise. “You. If you want to see your friends, you will put the mask back on now.”
Randall scowled at him but did as he was told, picking the discarded mask up off the ground and settling it back on his face. “I still can't believe this. Desmond Sycamore is the one who…”
“Is the one who nothing. And you're not wearing that right.” He swept over to Randall and adjusted the mask. For a moment there was a wave of discomfort as he stared closely at his own face, caught a glimpse of his own eyes staring intently at him. Descole pushed Randall away. “And do not tell a single soul what you saw or I will make you regret it.”