baby blue

Snake Eyes had changed a lot in the last few months. The lights were still bright. The drinks were still overpriced. People still lost money they couldn't afford to gamble away. But the tension was different now. Logan preferred it that way. From his spot overlooking the casino floor, he watched patrons move between tables while dealers called bets and slot machines chimed endlessly in the background. The balcony offered him the perfect vantage point to monitor the floor without actually having to talk to anyone. A perk he fully intended to abuse.

His cigarette burned lazily between his fingers as he scanned the crowd below. Then he spotted Chess. Immediately, Logan understood why several employees had complained. Not because Chess was causing problems. Actually, he wasn't causing any problems. He was just surprisingly good at whatever Logan showed him and the other employees were starting to get jealous.

He didn't really understand why he'd hired the odd being. He wasn't fully convinced Chess was human. He's grown up in a town of many 'mythical' creatures so his instincts tended to be right. None of it mattered, if he was honest. Chess was good at the job and Logan may have a soft spot for the outsider. He found himself standing behind the other who he'd positioned at blackjack tonight. "How's it going?"

chess had never seen a space so red, so black.

the queen of hearts would like to have a word.

the most lively part of the casino was the main floor in the center of the space - where penny slots went to a dollar and tables formed piles of cups, chips, and cards. every observational moment up until this point had been preparing chess for this environment, this job, where reading people was a fundamental key in whether or not the establishment made any money. chess had learned the game of blackjack very quickly - the odds coming easy to him as a dealer. they watched as these humans, such simple creatures as they were, told on themselves with their hands. blackjack was nowhere near as complicated as poker, and yet dealer wins every time. except now.

he watched as one card turned 12 into 22. bust.

one of the things chess learned was that a dropped hand didn't mean the same for the game - in fact, you wanted to let these people win a hand or two. they watched as their opponents eyes lit up as they collected their chips, throwing in an extra because by then it didn't feel like money. humans were so strange with money. it controlled everything, yet they were so frivolous with it.

he dealt the cards, placing another one down at each command. logan popped up the second it was chess' turn to win. in a cinematic response to his question, the man jumped up from the table, a little too angry about a chip of a particular color (what did that brown one ever do?) and chess smiled as he collected the pile of chips and returned them to their homes. the more chips that stay inside the casino, the better - of course.

"ask him," they said simply, but the man made his feelings perfectly clear as he stormed away from the table. "they get angry about these." he pointed to the very five thousand dollar chip in question. "strange. they care less when it is red or blue."

"oh, hey," she blinked, surprised to see them.

she hadn't seen chess in months, she thought their interactions had been scenes in a rough draft. a stranger saying they were as old as a millennia? speaking nonsense? the play could practically write itself. and funnily enough, it was today that violet started scribbling down ideas again — right there in the notebook she had on the grotto's register desk. the uncanny setting of the underland, lines of dialogue she'd overheard, questions that had no solid answers … but perhaps she could ask them again on a stage and have it shared around.

in other words, a bunch of highbrow, Absurdist mumbo jumbo. how her family ever sat through one of her plays, she'd never know.

it had been so long since violet thought of herself as a playwright, longer than the last time she saw chess, at least. and now that they were standing right in front of her, she felt some shame in thinking of them only as a character rather than a living, breathing human being. a quirky and confusing one, sure, but still an autonomous human walking around the earth.

not everyone needed to be a character. even if that was how violet used to make sense of people. bystanders, plot devices, heroes, villains…

she shook herself out of her reverie, looking down at her open notebook of dialogue notes. "i — um — sorry, that's not work-related, it's — " she took a pile of receipts and covered the notebook with it, "anyway..." violet looked to where chess looked, squinting at the time. "jeez, it's that time already? did you, uh — did you want to buy something? welcome to the grotto?" she gave a wonky smile. "and i'm okay. thank you. for asking. and yourself?"

chess remembered every face, however briefly. names did not come so easily, nor did some recall of events - but faces somehow carved their way into the cat's brain. forever and ever and ever, from inception til now. and every face, every familiarity - they were greeted as friend unless proven otherwise true. chess found it quite difficult, in this moment, to be very wary of violet. then again, the cat had been burned by assuming a girl was unassuming before ... where was dear alice now that wonderland had dissipated like the wind?

no matter. a hand lifted to run through chess' hair as they scanned the caravan. was anything out of place? damaged? missing in a way that didn't feel like it was purchased? nothing he could see from this angle ... if only they could go up.

they looked to the cat bed perched on the highest shelf.

"no money payments," he said simply with a shrug, referencing physical cash. chess had just started working at the casino, too new to receive reward for labor. it would be another week probably, before chess would see this elusive money for the first time. looking down, they picked up a small trinket marked at eighteen dollars. "what makes this worth more than one? i mean. who decides how many money payments to exchange for each item?"

before they could delve too deep into human economics, chess waved off the thought and focused on her questions. better to let them lead, especially at this hour. "i am good," they said with a nod. "just wanted to see the main event."

there were about four cats crawling under his feet, one on his lap, and one sitting on his shoulder. jinu was in his happy place, if he could have one. he wondered how many cats he could reasonably adopt. when chess asked a question, jinu turned, disturbing the cat on his shoulder who ran off.

"well yes. they seem to be having fun at least." the cats having fun was more important than himself. "they're little demons, the cats, but they're sweet when they're cuddly."

chess found the scene in front of them quite interesting, indeed. of course, they were familiar with the way people chose to interact with felines for they could no longer enter the grotto without being picked up by one or the other. pat pat pat on their head, neck, back, and all the way down the tail - while it admittedly felt nice, chess never knew how they were meant to react to it. suddenly, the cat was studying those before him - marveling at the natural movement of the spine, hair against skin.

the more they watched, the more they started to understand connection. creatures craved it in as many ways as they could get it, it seemed. however, the orange one on the man's shoulder ran off too quickly, skittish at the softest turn. chess almost laughed.

scaredy cat.

"and by demon, what could you mean?" this felt like a new term chess had learned recently - nuance. as if cats, like most things, were not what they seem. "do any stay in your home?"

"A lot of cities do. Actually, kinda the whole world. We have to pay for things with money. Which is a whole concept in itself, but yeah! It's nice when things are free, like the arts." She wondered what magical land Chess was from where money wasn't needed, and how she could get there. The witch had to pause for a moment to wrap her head around the concept of money. The two of them had only been talking for a short time, but Chess had made her think of things in a different light twice.

"Oh, you got here in October! Okay, so you've been here six months. How do you like Elias so far?" Her eyes widened at the mention of the carnival wheel. It felt like the misfortunes in Elias all began after that event. "Yes! It was evil! And I don't use that word lightly either. I wonder who thought that would be a good idea."

chess shrugged at the mention of october, whatever that was. dates, times, and months - it was all arbitrary to the cat. an optional concept to indulge in back where he was from. of course that rabbit was obsessed with time, but not chess. chess found no use in it. "elias ... it is fine. home is here but it is not home. understand?" he shrugged again to fill a pause, picking it up recently from other humans who did not know what to say. "how much more time have you been here?"

casimir moved through the grotto like he belonged there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he casually weaved between crowded shelves and tables. there was always something amusing about places like this during an event... too many people, too much noise, enough distractions for all kinds of fun. exactly why he’d agreed to meet krit here. whether that fun involved mild theft, harmless sabotage, or simply making someone’s night significantly more inconvenient remained to be seen.

“you’re late,” he muttered the second he caught sight of krit, mouth curving into a crooked grin. “i was beginning to think you’d developed a conscience, which honestly would be tragic for our friendsh—” he stopped short, brows knitting together as his gaze flicked toward the back of the shop, then the front door, then somewhere in between. something prickled unpleasantly at the back of his neck, like static crawling over skin. not danger exactly, but attention. unwanted and lingering. his grin faltered just slightly. “...do you smell that?” @kritikalhit

krit entered the space, drink in hand, and a curly straw tucked between his lips. he never could resist a fun, silly new drink. the afternoon had been amusing, to say the least. hanging off his left wrist was a new silver bracelet he'd purchased. could they not have this kind of soiree without the vexing presence of the new elias cub scouts? was it really so hard for miss ariel to be a team player?

he made an extra loud slurp as a greeting to his partner in crime.

"conscience? wash your mouth —"

then he, too, stopped short. he flexed his neck to be rid of that prickly feeling, like he'd sensed the pressure in the area was different. not what they expected. they were not alone.

partner in crime seemed almost too simple for casimir and kritsada. there were times when they seemed to move with one mind, and whatever cas noticed in this moment, krit did as well. as cas scanned the area, krit took a slower approach. he closed his eyes to focus. and at casimir's words, he inhaled deeply, searching for whatever it was that hid from them. "i do. something warm. something…"

with his eyes still closed, he paused to listen. the only other customer there had passed by krit as he arrived, engaging in a conversation with one of the shop helpers at the very front of the store. no one else was meant to be here. he tilted his head to listen better. there was the beat of footsteps outside the grotto, the gentle rattle of wind chimes near the back of the shop, his and casimir's heartbeats….and a third.

"…something small."

whoever it was, they were still watching. the grotto had been their meeting point because they were meant to find something useful here, whether it was information on ariel, or some fortuitous artefact sitting pretty on a display shelf that could be utilised for their own means. eyes still closed, his head turned to where his senses honed in on their mysterious companion.

"...something strange."

when he finally stopped to open his eyes, it was at a set of shelves, otherwise boring and full of trinkets like the others, except for its occupant.

krit smirked, glancing at cas. "μεταμορφωτής." { a shapeshifter. }

then he looked at the hidden creature dead in the eyes. @chessmorrigan

the sea of people weaving in and out of this shop on wheels was most interesting to chess from their perch in the corner. curly's replacement for the day was doing just as curly would, looping around the place and asking passersby if they had any needs. do you need anything? can i help at all? it seemed to be the theme when exchanging the money payment for things. those asking for the money frame it as help.

anyway, temporary curly was doing a good job. violet was her name, chess recalled.

the cat's eyes narrowed, though, with the entrance of these two men. they looked around the place like they were looking for something specific, not like the rest of the curious eyes looping the caravan. why were they searching? for who?

by the time their eyes locked, chess was already perched like they were ready to pounce.

the air shifted then, immediately and all at once. it took something just as powerful as they to clock him so easily, chess knew that in any universe. scanning the room to ensure no one else was looking to his corner, the cat grinned down at them in a way that looked human. full teeth and a twinkle in his eye.

⸻🍂 WILLOW HAD TO LEAN THERE WEIGHT RIGHT into the handle of the rusted-red wagon to keep it moving over the uneven stones. 

But the wagon announced them before they did themselves. As an ⸻ screeech ⸻ of an wheel that needed oil 3-streets ago &. refused to let them forget it ⸻ heck let anyone forget it. But they can't deny they love the sound of how the contents rattled behind them like something half-alive. As there screechy-red-wagon felt more like an ghost story.

As plastic/glass containers with snapped-on lids clacked together ⸻ each one packed with an different kind of ruin ⸻

Broken Glass

Dead Batteries

Bones

Gears

Tarnished Pendants

Elias ⸻ Underland Weeds

Broken Chains ⸻ &. Metal Wires

Empty water bottles &. glass-starbuck-bottles rattled with bent nails ⸻ tiny screws ⸻ Underland-&.-Elias pollen ⸻ lost &. forgotten currencys of places that used to mean something. While an few water bottles &. glass-starbuck-bottles sloshed with strange liquids ⸻ one with magic ⸻ one with non-magic ⸻ one with magic &. non-magic mixed into an ugly shimmer. While discarded pots ⸻ dented pans ⸻ knocked against scrapped-human-&.-witch tools. With beautiful unbroken empty-glass potion-&.-perfume bottles tucked away &. wrapped safely with magical-book-pages ⸻ newspapers ⸻ &. ripped of hard-book-covers.

As the old human-slogan ⸻ Reduce ⸻ Reuse ⸻ Recycle.

The human-message was lost in consumer-culture favoring convenience ⸻ as magic was lost in the middle of that translation. Whatever this was . . . whatever they were doing. Hauling lost &. dead things back to there greenhouse &. asking them politely to mean something again. As they found comfort in dumpster diving ⸻ salvaging ⸻ whatever one desired to call it ⸻ as its giving something one more chance to become useful ⸻ instead of staying in an broken system.

“ Oh ⸻ ” she could hear the breathy-edge of there own surprise. As they straightened themselves turning there head to them “ ⸻ thank you. You kind of startled me. ” Polite but soft.

“ I'm not really looking for one thing ⸻ ” she admitted as they knew how this looked: All vinemagic with an rusted-red-wagon full of broken hopes &. discarded hardware ⸻ scavenging beside an place where hopes &. dreams are sold &. broken. “ ⸻ Just looking for materials. ”

“ But that is good to know ⸻ ” they hummed-tiredly “ ⸻ it saves me from climbing halfway in there for nothing. ” Taking there word for it as it had been an long Monday as they traveled farther than they expected. But as they looked at the other ⸻ they oddly felt familiar ⸻ not enough for an name . . . as it nagged at them for an moment. Until it finally clicked.

“ Well ⸻ I'll be a titan's last good idea !!! ” While it felt so long ago caught in an . . . vulnerable moment when they last met. “ Glad to see a friendly-stranger. This time I'm not hysterical ⸻ just tired. You've been surviving the missing-in-action mess-well?! ”

chess had watched carefully before speaking up - at her, at the wagon, at the bits and bobs filled with different items or substances. these things did not read to them as strange, for the cat had witnessed and been part of much stranger. but her reaction to them standing there, the way their words shifted with slight hesitation - chess was starting to notice the tells when someone was unsure of their own actions. "materials," they repeated with nothing but interest, taking a step forward in attempt to peer into the wagon. "what will you create with such materials?"

eyes started to scan the rest of the gloam market as chess tried to remember where other dumpsters may be. now that they knew the reason, the cause, it made sense to help where they could. "there is another one by the potion stall," chess remembered. "we can check that one."

had they been surviving? it felt like such a strange question, one chess did not quite understand. they were standing here, yes? perhaps this was another one of those human phrases that meant something slightly different. chess chose to nod their head.

"how are you?" they asked. this was a common question among the humans, one that was presented at the beginning of conversations or when there was a lull. chess did not always know how to answer, other than good, but they found it was better to be the asker anyhow. "are these museum materials?" this was code for art.