CastlesAndCandyApples

but i'm a chemical compound

"Heh. Whad'ya know!" Pinky exclaimed. "A curator. Y'know what- yeah. A curator a' music an' the fine performin' arts–-"

He heaved a cigarette laugh.

"That's me, alright!"

Pinkie straightened up and folded his arms over his chest. If his grin had anything to say about it, he did mean to silently boast his bigger size over the scrawny fox.

"It's a casino, Country Boy. Yup! Folks come from all around just ta gamble an' watch my girl sing."

He leaned down, holding a hand out.

His fur bristles at country boy. Though he is one. And proud. He doesn't care for city slickers and their back-handed words.

Pinky. Why does that fit?

Where he comes from, folks don't give out their names. But when in rome. He grumbles under his breath, posture closed off, before uttering,

"Br'er Fox," Pinky echoed, scratching his chin for a moment. "That's, that's funny, Miller..."

He waved his cigar at him.

"What's a 'Br'er'?"

Before the smaller vulpine could reply, Pinky was shepherding him into his office. It didn't look like Miller had a lot of cash on him, but Pinky wanted to be sure he'd get every last drop of what he did have before he sent him on his way.

Once inside, he let go of him, and shut the door.

"Take a seat, friend!" the large fox exclaimed, plopping down in his own chair. "Lost, huh?"

He flipped through a thick phone book.

Toontober Day 13: Don Bluth!

"Need directions?" Pinky could tell the smaller fox wasn't from the city, because he himself wasn't from here-- initially, at least. He knew a country accent anywhere.

"You've found yourself in Las Vegas, Nevada. Greatest city in the world, if'n I do say so myself."

An opinion which certainly had nothing to do with his employee's image being plastered on every building and street sign.

He all but leaps into the air when the voice rings behind him, and he whirls to face the other fox, tail swishing. Br'er Fox isn't one to be cowed by somebody havin' a bigger size compared to him, so he scowls all the way.

"I saw the sign," he grumbled, folding bony elbows (he's lying, he'd ducked in here to get away from the crowed without looking) -)

"What I meant was what kinda place is this?"

For one, that looks like mini golf course next to the bar area! This city was nuts.

"Heh. Whad'ya know!" Pinky exclaimed. "A curator. Y'know what- yeah. A curator a' music an' the fine performin' arts–-"

He heaved a cigarette laugh.

"That's me, alright!"

Pinkie straightened up and folded his arms over his chest. If his grin had anything to say about it, he did mean to silently boast his bigger size over the scrawny fox.

"It's a casino, Country Boy. Yup! Folks come from all around just ta gamble an' watch my girl sing."

He leaned down, holding a hand out.

" 'ang on, 'ang on, I can't see anything over all this riff-raff! What's going on? "

Suddenly, he and Cryptic Claus were very ceremoniously pointed at! The entire crowd seemed to stare at the two men, which made Grandsanta even more confused. He raised his cane towards the citizens and waved it around.

" Eh? What's this about? Haven't you ever seen Santa Claus before? "

Cryptic Claus excitedly gasped.

" We've been chosen, Grandsanta!! "

" Chosen...? " The old man's eyes widen. " 'ave they come back for me? How'd you find me in PERU?! You won't get me alive!! Save me lad, I won't last well in the hoosegow! "

" Ho, ho, ho! You kidder!! Come on! " Cryptic chuckled and grabbed Grandsanta into his arms. The larger man very swiftly ran up to the stage and placed the old man down in front of him.

" Ho, ho, helloooo there!! " He waved to the king. Grandsanta however, raised a brow at Magnifico.

The two old men couldn't have made it more obvious that they weren't from here if they had held up a sign that said so. Their confusion at being chosen, and the way that the taller one had to tell the shorter one what was going on, was proof enough.

Magnifico smiled to himself as they walked up to the stage, and waited patiently as the younger one placed the older one down.

What an interesting pair of individuals.

"Hello," Magnifico greeted them, dubious tone masked by the pleasant expression in which he strove to keep. The only thing giving him away was the way one eyebrow quirked slightly downward.

Maybe Grandsanta wasn't the only one here who was suspicious.

"Steve?" Magnifico echoed, chuckling a little in disbelief as the shorter man turned on him and then erupted in laughter at him. How rude! He could already feel himself starting to get worked up, temper simmering, but he had to calm himself! He couldn't afford to make a scene in front of the entire kingdom.

Yelling at a senior citizen wouldn't do any good for his image.

"It's... not a peacock costume," the king breathed, forced grin all the larger as he glanced from Grandsanta to Cryptic Claus and back. He grabbed his own (peacock-like) cape and bunched it behind him. "And I don't know who Steve is. I'm a king. King Magnifico. This is my king outfit."

Fists tightened at his sides, and then he calmed himself with a deep breath.

“ Oh, yes, we do ! ” Aspen was happy to answer. They did a happy jump in place, landing on their toes… and still somehow managing to not sink into the snow at all. “ I’m … not quite sure what makes snow so different from rain, but the snow is harmless. ” As if to make a point, they kicked at a small bump in the snow path with their pointed boot toe, sending snowflakes scattering in front of them.

Of course Aspen wouldn't be able to imagine why they wouldn't have liked it, thought Philip with the slightest of frowns. As he'd been living in the Demon Realm, he'd realized that it was a lot more relaxed here-- not only pertaining to magic, but self-expression and fun as well. He opened his mouth to explain, and then stopped himself, staring at the snow as he did so.

He was too old to still be bothered by things that had happened in the past. Wouldn't Aspen think it was silly of him to complain? Or that he and his people were insane for their rules?

It was a risk Philip would take. He thought they were insane, too.

"... I know," he said with a shrug, exasperated. "They thought that kind of leisure was bad for the soul. That we could have been doing something else, or it might invoke..." A pause. "Things."

Open-ended. He could only guess they'd meant moral failure, though how building a snowman could lead to one becoming a bad person as the years drifted by was beyond him.

"I miss it, but in some ways, it is better here."

Regret stabbed him like a knife the moment he'd said it.

Philip’s laugh leads to a small, weak laugh of Aspen’s own. Worried— for the human traveler. What was he doing there ?

Philip let out a light hum at that. Practicing landscaping on land you didn't own had no consequences as long as someone else did not own it, he thought. Even if someone did... did it truly matter? They could deal with it if it was for the betterment of society, couldn't they?

He kept his thoughts to himself, eyes still trailing the witch as they moved around.

"That much was obvious," he sighed. "Nobody here seems to know how to make decent food, let alone act normally about someone like me."

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