Okay, for a while now Iâve been mulling over this imaginary lore of the pastry cart person that Tanguish loves to visit (and initially stolen from) since the beginning of the story. Silver, idk if you have something planned for them or not, but I felt I would share (it is in second person, Idk why I chose to write it that way):
Youâve been running and managing your pastry cart for almost a year now, witnessing the crowds passing by day after day. Itâs no get-millions-of-diamonds-quick sort of job, the hours it takes during early mornings and sourcing your ingredients often make you question being in this profession, but the people of hels need to be fed. You were always too nice to not put up with the headaches, and you would be lying if you said the quiet repetitive routine in the early hours didnât bring you some peace. Yes it was tough, but you had learned how to do your job well, and because people are always looking to fill their empty stomachs, diamonds were not short.
You donât notice him right away, heâs just another face in the crowd rushing to get as much done before the weight of the universe caves in. He passed by during the rush hours irregularly enough that you hadnât noticed a missing muffin or pastry until you took stock at the end of the day. You tried to be vigilant and keep an eye out, but your thief knew just the right time when the crowds washed over and overwhelmed you to swipe a treat off your cart. Theft wasnât rare, this was hels after all, but to disregard the time spent into making something made it understandable why the loss of a hand was its punishment. Take something precious lose something precious.
A few weeks passed, and the missing pastries became regular enough that you considered what to do. The thief only took one, never greedy enough to take more in one day, for that you were thankful. There were plenty of knights in the area to ask for help, but you would have to miss at least a day or a few to ask around. You knew of other means of protection from thieves from a couple of store owners you exchanged pleasantries with, but you didnât like what it might cost you. Maybe they would be able to offer better prices on ingredients too? It made you nervous talking with those kind of people. Striking a deal felt like the kind of thing you couldnât just step back from. And really, you were always too nice to put up with a stolen muffin here and there. Half the time they were stale anyway and wouldnât have sold. Maybe your thief would pay for it if they could? There were those less fortunate than you out there after all, you could grant a small mercy and keep quiet.
You finally caught his face not too long after that decision, and after that you noticed him prowling the rooftops during the gaps between rush hours. A dark shape speckled with teal sculk that leapt fearlessly over alleys and climbed up towers. It was entertaining and kept the boredom at bay, which you thanked him through turning a blind eye when he came by.
Months passed until you noticed for the last two weeks your stock at the end of the day was what it should be. That the count of diamonds to remaining pastries had been consistent. Your thief no longer ran across the rooftops either, he was simply gone, which some part of you was relieved by. No more setting aside a pastry that you knew wouldnât pay you for the work it took to make. The relief from that thought didnât ease your disappointment of another fellow helsmet gone however. Though maybe he wasnât gone gone. Maybe he had finally been caught? The fact you were able to remember his face and briefly wonder if you should carve a stone for him stood as proof he must still be out there somewhere.
So you went about your days, business as usual. Rise early while the lanterns are dim, mix batches of batter, roll out your doughs. With lava so plentiful, getting the ovens up to temperature never was an issue, it was keeping them from getting too hot that was tricky. Simple wrappers held the pastries together, then they were packed up onto your cart, and you were out the door ready for another day.
It went on like that for some time, until one morning you turn from waving goodbye to the last customer and your heart spikes. Next in line is one of the most intimidating knights you have ever seen, their cloak a blood red and armor so sharp and imposing youâre worried itâll cut you if you stare too long. Beside the knight is your thief, excitedly pointing to your array of muffins and looking back at the knight expectantly. Both of his hands are intact as they reach for two muffins. Clear as day, no attempt at hiding his choice. The knight pays you and they walk back into the crowd. You quickly get through the rest of your line of disgruntled customers who had to wait while your thief made his selection, and when you wave the last customer goodbye, your shock kindles into a warm sense of contentment. You smile softly while you pack up and head back home, shaking your head at the story the thief must have to have found such a knight.
Itâs a little while before you see the knight and thief again at your cart, and they start to become regulars. You catch onto the knightâs preference for savory options, and work on making a couple of pastries that you think heâll like. It doesnât pass your notice that the diamonds spent for the two of them starts to make up for all the stolen treats from before. Your cart has also become busier since the two became regulars. Banners for the next show at the colosseum start to be put up, and you stop in your tracks as you look up at the face of the knight printed on them. The knight your thief brought to you as a customer. The knight who is, apparently, the champion of hels.
Oh.
You feel a tug in your gut as your hands begin to jitter. The tug ignites into a rush of nerves and elation, your whole body is burning with the intense sensation of a miracle placed at your feet. With a hammering heart and a giddy, almost hysterical laugh bubbling from your lips, you rush home and begin counting stock of your ingredients. You have a lot to prepare for and wonât let this opportunity go to waste. As youâre cleaning the dishes from the morning, you think you never would have been so thankful to have a thief choose your cart to steal from.
Oh man that ended up much longer than I anticipatedđ
I thought Iâd just write a paragraph or two, oops! But this is the lil headcanon I have for the muffin cart person because I think itâs really amusing to think of the story from their pov. Idk if itâs just more realistic that they never noticed Tanguish stealing from them, but I thought it would be interesting if they did, but maybe let it slide? Only for Tanguish to show up later with the champion of hels who becomes a regular customer!
Oh my goshhhhh Leap! What a fantastic little story in the background of everything! I adore the characterization. And you're absolutely right, it must have been a shock and transformation for the poor baker making Tanguish's favorites. To go from disappointed victim of theft to oh my god the Champion is a regular customer.
