#grifter mentality

A deck of cards passed around a table to avoid the hands of any would-be cheaters eventually makes their way into the tatted hands of the Coyote. Conversation over a game was always easiest, but to say that Caelric particularly enjoyed anyone at his table would be a considerable overstatement. They were loud, obnoxious, and at best leering towards the waitress that had been tending their drinks that evening. Most of them he could do without and likely would, once this game was all over.  

“I’d put ‘em in their place I would!” 

“Har! Yeah! Couple good smacks, or a kick to the teeth...that’ll do it!” 

“Right! People don’t get hit enough these days. Back in my day, you get beat just for lookin’ at someone sideways. Now? Damn younglings are soft. ”

Caelric began dishing out cards, and while he did, he spoke, adding his own perspective to the conversation. “I mean, sure. Every so often, someone deserves a quick clip to the jaw if they cross a line, but me, I’m more a long con kind of guy.” he explains, offering a brief eye to the others at his table. 

“See, I might not like everyone, but just about everyone has some kind of value to them. So I might keep them around if they aren’t an absolutely deplorable piece of shit. There are times when I need things that only shitty people can provide, and I’m willing to maintain a cordial relationship if I can benefit from their presence. Like you guys. I don’t really like a single one of you, but you all play one hell of a game of poker.” 

He grinned and even got a couple chuckles with that, and yet he wasn’t joking despite how casually and personably he spoke. They were all watching him talk, but they hadn’t been watching his hands, a dangerous move considering the night was ending, and the pot was substantial after a good two bells of betting. There was a look of confidence from a few, others were keen on their poker face, but Caelric had a good sense of most cards on the table and wasn’t all that worried on the outcome. 

“It’s easy to string people along for a line, and get what you need out of them if you know how to do it right. People are generally, very easy to mislead and manipulate. I’m not one to really take advantage of just anybody, mind you, but if people suck I won’t lose any sleep over running game on them.” 

“I do however, feel pretty damn bad about this.” He lays his cards out, and against the other hands his was superior. What a surprise. “Read ‘em and weep, boys. This one’s all mine.” he chuckles amidst a series of groans and unhappy protests, reaching forward to scoop his winnings for the night. A stack of coins were left however, as he gestures magnanimously. “Drinks are on me though, for the trouble.” That smoothed over a couple disgruntled looks as few people, particularly drunks, ever fussed over free liquor. 

Evenings. Crowds. People. Places. There was always excitement to be found in the night life if he sniffed around long enough and tonight was no different. Excitement found her way to him on a long set of legs, carrying too many tattoos to count and he was all too keen to know the stories held behind each. It was something they had in common, which he figured was what had attracted the tall woman his way in the first place.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours..." he grinned, and once he felt he had the okay dragged her over and down into his lap for a more intimate discussion on inked qualities. It was the perfect excuse to be liberal with his exploration of her pockets, though he made sure to hit all the right spots in the careful touch and drag of his fingertips over her body. Tapping at a pattern upon the flesh with one hand, while his free one wandered within the distraction.

He didn't flirt like normal people should, but what could he say? He liked to keep things interesting. Perspiration from his beer bottle slicked a ring from her fingers in the midst of toying with her hand, and he kept her attention firmly occupied by pointing out a few more of her tattoos with his lips while he questioned their origins through casual squeezes of her thigh.

All good things come to a close though, and that includes the late night bars frequented by a pair of tattooed heathens. He made sure to leave Rose with something to remember him by though or rather...something to seek him out for as he slipped away and pocketed the ring.

And I can't even speculate that being countercultural, economically motivated, or even inspired by capitalisms avatars of BoyAnimal, Yiff Bozos, Melon Usk or the likes.

Cuz frankly all of these are true.

Corpo environments are actively creating obsessive behaviour around hobbies as an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Most of us can only succeed with hobby-jobs if we're violently obsessed either with performance or the work due to the excessively low price of comfort vs the excessive amount of money basic necessities just tear out of the pay cheques of our customers.

And celebrity rich people are presenting themselves as violently obsessed with anything they do, while, actually, being exactly as effective workers as your depressed cousin or nephew.

All of these things likely play together into this "ain't no rest" mentality.

El Cadejo

There is no such thing as Black and White, Good and Evil, Yin and Yang. The world only knows the various greys in-between.        Nearly every culture out there has some manifestation of the righteous and the treacherous. The cadejo is no different. Hailing from Central American folklore, the tales of the cadejo varies from country to country but they almost always come in two separate variations. The pure, helpful white dog, and the malevolent, evil black dog.          The white dog helps to guide lost travelers out of the woods and is the only force which can kill or harm it's evil brethren.        The black dog that which cannot be killed, prowls the streets at night, searching for its next victim. Once it chooses its prey, it stalks. Almost nothing can draw its attention from the hunt. Its raspy snarls and soft growls can be heard, usually a sign of the victim's impending doom. Your only chance of escaping its open maw is the intervention of the white cadejo.

You have never been focused on the technicalities of life. Nor have you agreed with many people's boxed-minded views on the concept of good and evil. Nothing in this world is inherently good or evil. You choose to live your life in the grey. This does not make you a bad person. Your life is how you choose to live it and the choices you make along the way. You simply won't allow for moral conflicts to interfere with a logical train of thought. It is this perspective on life which has attracted the cadejo to you. Just be wary of your guardian, it is nearly impossible to tell which one it is until you see it and by then it's already too late.

Another surprising accuracy though I’ve never heard of this creature. Pretty damn cool. 

"I'm open minded, if that's what you mean. One of the best qualities of being an Imperial conscript was that I was exposed to many different walks of life well before I got the hell out of there. Try as they might, the Empire can't erase a people's history nor their memories of home and so I often engaged others in aspects of where they were from. "

"I was well read, and took advantage of the knowledge I had access to. There's a bit more to it than that though. Knowing people and their cultures, and being open to ever changing ideas, is just commonplace for a good grifter."

"See, I can get people to open up to me if I can present them with knowledge of home, culture, and past. It's an easy gateway to getting people to drop their guard. It's part of why I studied languages and take a personal investment in linguistics. I know about eight different languages fluently and am able to communicate fairly well through several others."

"I've been able to pass myself off as a local in several locations, and when engaging someone far from home, like I said its an easy way to make somebody open. Travelers like that make easy marks too, if they aren't informed of their locations and when I was in more desperate circumstances, I'll admit I took advantage of that."

"Eventually though, easy marks get old and sometimes, you develop a conscience. Being open to new ideas also means being open to a perspective shift. Changes of heart. Guilt."

He shrugs, as if indifferent to the whole thing and then leans back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head.

"Well. To come up with the level of bullshit and fuckery that I do, you have to be just a little creative." He grins wolfishly, rubbing his palms together before threading the tattooed fingers between one another. "But I'm guessing you want a serious answer. I guess I can give that." He grunts, leaning back in his chair. He seems thoughtful as if he's not quite sure what to say, resting his hands over his stomach. "...I like music. A lot more than I let on, in fact, its one of the main reasons Moebius, the allagan A.I. I've restored, is so inclined to the art. I play guitar, preferably the electric kind, and I'm about as good with piano. Anything to keep my fingers nimble and active. I guess I'm also fairly creative with my Tek. I've done a lot with it, both good and bad. I...enjoy coming up with new card sleights. So yeah. A little creative."

@sundered-souls : As always, thank you for the ask box love! :D