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“The collection”

By Patrick D. Lambert

He happened to walk in front of the Museum. The human, just another oiled gear for the company he worked at, never showed an interest in History or the like. He wasn’t dumb or anything, but working from 8 to 5 didn’t leave him with enough time or energy for other activities that weren’t entertainment. It didn’t help that a lot of the cultural activities available in town ended at 5 PM—6 PM in the best scenario.

The Museum was still open, and he didn’t see a lot of people coming in or out. The human ascended the concrete stairs and reached the huge set of doors leading into the Museum—he never understood why that kind of building needed doors that big, although a regular door probably wouldn’t have the same effect.

Much to his surprise, the Museum was almost empty, except for some people doing some last purchases in the gift store, and some students taking notes and charging their phones in a corner. The human walked slowly. His boots made an echo with each step taken. His curious look revealed the confusion provoked by a new place, as he struggled to find out which path to take between the hallways and the stairs leading up.

No one put attention to his presence. He was just another visitor who wouldn’t stay for too long. With more important things to do, they ignored him as he walked into the exhibition titled “Mercenaries through History”.

The Human had little to no knowledge about the topic. He knew what a mercenary was, although most of that info came from movies and video games. A silver plate mounted on the wall gave a detailed explanation of what the exhibition was about, but he didn’t seem interested in the small font used to write all that info. Besides, he didn’t have time to waste reading that.

With that option discarded, the Human decided to go as quickly as possible through the exhibition only admiring the outfits worn by the mannequins. The Human did some cosplay back in his youth, and he couldn’t deny his weakness over wearing bizarre-looking clothes that were completely impractical in practice but still looked very fucking good.

Judging by what he was looking at, those were indeed bizarre-looking outfits, but not exactly impractical if they made it into an exhibition. It was interesting to see how the armor and clothing evolved from mere leather pieces into more complex designs. And then he reached the Landsknecht.

With one hand on his hips and the other holding a fake Zweihänder against the ground, the mannequin wore a colorful outfit that looked too scandalous for a war. He couldn’t imagine a King paying to have that type of mercenary in his army.

“I bet their enemies were too busy laughing to fight,” the Human giggled.

While their aspect didn’t look exactly threatening, the Human had to admit the design was peculiar and eye-catching. And he got curious about how would it feel to wear it.

“I see this caught your attention,” someone called from behind.

A red crocodile approached. Attired in a simple-looking grey suit with golden cufflinks on both sleeves, and with a smile that looked more mechanical than sincere. He didn’t have a name tag on him, but the Human simply assumed it was part of the Museum, probably the one explaining each exhibit.

“It’s an… interesting outfit,” the Human replied.

He didn’t have something against anthros, like the crocodile; he simply wasn’t used to seeing them around.

“And fascinating too. The Landsknecht were the most notorious and fearsome mercenary group from the Early Modern period,” the crocodile giggled after seeing the Human frown at that declaration. “Don’t let the outfit fool you. The Sumptuary Laws dictated the way each individual should dress according to his social status. These laws didn’t apply to the Landsknecht, whose lives were ‘brutish and short’, quoting Emperor Maximilian I. He even encouraged them to wear these clothes to show their status. Let’s not forget Europe was a warrior society in those times, so even wealthy individuals wore dull clothes when compared to them.”

The crocodile didn’t seem to bother in giving a detailed explanation, and the Human was glad of it. Although what he heard caught his attention. It changed completely the initial idea he had of the soldier before him, and now he visualized the joy of running into battle in the most fashionable way possible. It was… fascinating.

“This is definitely one of my favorite exhibits,” the crocodile continued. “There is something magical about the entire outfit. Brutish and short, yes. Especially short. Imagine risking your life for some coins. Very few people would do that. And if you were to accept, the least you can do is look great. And they did. They faced death and looked great while doing so.”

“Just take a good look at the tight breeches, white and blue, its style only cut by the silver greaves. They look comfortable to wear, but can you imagine yourself running into battle with it? Some others wore voluminous breeches instead, and some others preferred kilts. A fine choice if you ask me. Fresh. Comfortable. Gives you enough movement freedom.”

The Human shared a look with the crocodile, then stared back at the mannequin and tried to picture the ideal outfit for him following the descriptions given by the reptile.

“And the brown slashed doublet, with both sleeves wearing a different color pattern. Red, blue, and white on the right sleeve. Red, green, and yellow on the left one. See how the stripes resembled a flag or the colors of a family crest. It’s visually stunning, and also distracting. You try to find sense in what you’re looking at, but you can’t. It’s a beautiful mess.”

The Human felt more and more absorbed by the crocodile’s voice. He dragged his feet forward to get a better look at the outfit. It was beautiful, indeed. Stunning. Distracting. And his wishes to wear something like that increased with each passing second.

“And let’s not forget the hats. Not the most practical thing to wear into battle. Big and cumbersome, but probably the most distinguished piece of their entire outfit. Admire the brown hat with two long red feathers on top of it. The hat alone is a sign of elegance, of vanity.”

“They wore armor, yes. Greaves. Gauntlets. Even chest plate. Some wore it under. Some others over it. But the colorful clothes were still the center of attention. Just like nature giving the most colorful skin to the most dangerous species, these soldiers wore the most colorful clothes as their way to tell how dangerous they were.”

The crocodile managed to get his interest in the group of mercenaries, and now he wanted to know even more. And not only that. The cosplayer spirit, once buried by the monotonous lifestyle he adopted, had come out of his grave and was burning with excitement over the idea of spending countless nights making that outfit. He still remembered the lessons. He could do it with ease. And maybe that’s what he needed in life. A colorful outfit to wear into battle.

“Admire this outfit. It is unique. It is a reflection of one’s personality. Each little detail tells us more about the soldier. And they were all different. Each garment tells us that.”

Absorbed as he was in a fantasy, the Human didn’t notice the green glow coming from the crocodile’s eyes nor the spell he was putting on him, with his hand hovering behind the Human’s head.

“Imagine yourself wearing it. Imagine how would it feel. How each piece fits perfectly. Tight. Comfortable. Warm. Imagine the joy brought by a unique outfit, one that reflects who you are. Think about it. Think about the outfit you want to bring into battle. Picture each piece in your mind.”

And that’s what he did. Tight breeches with horizontal stripes changing between blue and red. A long, black-stripped red kilt tied to his hips with a leather belt. A silver doublet with the stripped sleeves switching between green and red, and a leather sleeveless jacket on top. On top of his head, a small red had the size of a beret, with a white feather over it. No armor except for the gauntlets he would use to carry his sword, a heavy and lethal Zweihänder.

“Yes. That outfit is perfect for you. It’s a reflection of you. And you want to wear it proudly. And forever. You want to display it. You want to show your creation and wear it forever. No more work. No more responsibilities. Nothing but the sweet satisfaction of wearing a reflection of yourself turned into a costume. And I can give you that. All you gotta do is stand and pose. Stand and pose. Act as the mercenary you wanna be. Let your body show how little you care about life. Stand and pose, proud of yourself.”

The words said by the crocodile sounded too attractive to reject them. He was right. His outfit was worth being admired, and he had all the reasons to wear it. Lightheaded, the Human dragged his feet to stand next to the mannequin. His scrambled head tried to find the best position and decided to adopt a more relaxed one compared to the mannequin, using an imaginary heavy sword to hold his weight.

Except it wasn’t imaginary. As soon as the Human adopted the position, the sword began to manifest under his hand. He rested over it and relaxed his muscles. His clothes followed. The plain-looking uniform slowly transformed into a more colorful version to match the image he had in his mind, starting from the head and going down.

The crocodile stood in front of him, weaving with his fingers to give shape to the peculiar outfit. And as he did, he continued speaking in a voice only the Human could hear.

“Feel as the clothes come to life. Feel how you transform into something new. You are no longer the male who walked in today. You no longer have to worry about work or debts or groceries. All those meaningless tasks are no longer a part of your life. You are a Landsknecht. And you will wear this uniform with pride. And you will enjoy each and every second of it. Clear your mind of any thought to embrace this single idea. You are a Landsknecht. Part of a collection. A living exhibit of these proud mercenaries.”

And those memories disappeared. With each word spoken by the crocodile, a thought faded from the Human’s mind, leaving a blank space. Then another. And another. And everything continued disappearing before his eyes.

But he didn’t do anything to stop it. Because it wasn’t what he wanted. The Human, who had been part of a faceless company for years, was experimenting with a joy completely new to him. And it all came from something as simple as wearing a colorful outfit. He wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. In that position. With that outfit. And the most sincere smile he had displayed during his entire life.

“You don’t have to think. You don’t have to act. You will be taken care of. All you gotta do is clear your mind of any thought and stand still. Become a showcase for this magnificent outfit. You will wear it forever. And you will enjoy this eternity.”

The glow disappeared from the crocodile’s eyes as soon as he confirmed the mannequin had stopped thinking. He put a white ribbon over its shoulder and left the Museum. That same midnight, several strangers entered the building to pick up some items, including the living mannequin, which was put among others similar to it, with some having a more plastic look than others, but all of them part of a special auction.

Rich people like to collect some very unique pieces.