#stack the deck

Newest chapter of Stack the Deck: Tatooine Shift is up! A little angst, a little domestic, a lot of Mando'a.

This was the first tarot card I made for this story, and to me it definitely looks it!

The Marshal

RW version of card under the cut.

Let's talk God's Game for a minute.

God is playing complex poker in a dark room with blank cards and a Dealer who keeps smiling. But let's be real. It's God. Is She playing or is She actually the Dealer? I think it's both.

God's true purpose is the Dealer, shuffling the cards, handing out winning and losing hands. That's right up God's alley.

But, She's also playing for humanity because who else could? Humans are Hers, after all.

And this is where it gets interesting. Because, there are other Players. But who are they? My guess:

1. Heaven (Player: The Metatron)

2. Hell (Player: Satan)

3. Humanity (Player: God)

And God is playing AND dealing. And the Dealer has to deal, has to give a playable hand, otherwise there's no game. It doesn't have to be the winning hand, but each player needs cards regardless. But, God created the cards, and She knows every card that is going to be drawn into each Player's hand.

My theory is God's Stacking the Deck in favor of humanity, in favor of her little pet project that She's created to keep Herself entertained.

Now, let's talk the Blank Cards.

The cards themselves are every other being in this Ineffable game. Each angel, demon, and human is a card in Heaven's, Hell's, or Humanity's hand. The Four Horsemen? Hell's. Michael? Probably Heaven's from what we've seen so far. Anathema Device? Humanity, definitely. Saraqael? Muriel? I don't think we've seen, but I've got some ideas.

But, why blank? Well, how else do we account for free will? The cards are blank because that's the fun part of the game. The complex part. Just because you've got the card, doesn't mean you know how it will be played, what choices it will make. What other cards it will come into contact with.

Except, if you created the cards, then maybe you have an edge. A tiny edge over the other players. Just enough to stack the deck in your favor.

And this is where Crowley & Aziraphale come in. They're Her trump cards (if you'll allow me to mix card game metaphors for a minute - it is, after all, complex poker).

She created them. She knows them. She can't control them, but She can make predictions about what they will do. And She knows that they are a group of the two of them, that if She puts them together on that tiny little planet, they will do everything they can to protect it together, because that's how She created them.

So yes, they get to make their own choices. Crowley can help save a gravedigger's life and get taken off the table by Hell for a bit because of it. Aziraphale can choose to go back to Heaven as Supreme Archangel and get removed from the table by Heaven for now

But, when push comes to shove, both of those cards are squarely in Humanity's hand, just as God dealt. They are there together. And once they both come back onto the table, Humanity can't do anything other than come out on top.

THE RULES:

1) Provide a brief description of your novel before beginning. NO MORE THAN 5 SENTENCES.

Martin is a wanna be journalist and he’s just landed his first serious writing job.  The only problem is that it isn’t hard hitting news reporting he was expecting, so he takes matter into his own hands.  He starts investigating a string of disappearances that gets him involved with both a kidnapping ring and the local crime lord.

2) If your cast is fewer than 15 characters, you can’t use the same name more than twice. If your cast is larger than 15 characters, you can’t use the same name more than once.

THE QUESTIONS:

#1 Which character is SO into the holidays, they nearly cause a street-wide power outage from all their Christmas lights?

Jimmy, hands down.  If there’s a holiday he’s excited about it.  He’s not even sorry about the near power outage.  “It’s Christmas and my sous chef’s wife is scarier than anything you can throw at me so step off.”

#2 Which character attends the office new years party with ONE date…and goes home with someone else?

That would be Martin’s brother Geoff.  He’d probably even pick up the new date while the other is watching.  

#3 Which character is more than happy to steal Hanukkah gelt from poor, unsuspecting children? [Note: Hanukkah gelt = chocolate coins]

Boris, because of course it’s Boris.  He loves stealing and just being a nuisance on general.  Of course, chocolate is really bad for him so someone(Julian) has to steal it back.

#4 Fill in the blanks: I saw ____[character]____ doing a whole lot more than ____[verb]____-ing Santa Claus. They were full on ____[action]____.

I saw Julian doing a whole lot more than bribing Santa Claus.  They were full on paying him off.

#5 One of your characters decides to pregame before church and passes out in the middle of the Christmas service. Which character is it?

Solomon.  Anytime he has to be around a lot of people he self medicates with booze.  The idea of going to a church service on Christmas is especially nerve wracking to him because not only is it crowded as hell, but he Jewish.  What if they figure out he doesn’t belong and kick him out in the cold.  

#6 Which character hasn’t been seen since winter began because they refuse to deal with the snow?

Daniel.  The man was born and raised in the American Midwest.  He knows what winter is like and he fucking hates it.  The second he sees snowflakes he dives under his covers and refuses to come out until spring.  He even tries to get his wife to call into work for him.  She makes him go anyway, but does offer to drive him.  That doesn’t make him feel any better.

#7 Which character completely forgot about the holidays and ends up regifting to everyone?

Isaac.  Holidays weren’t a thing in his house growing up, so it’s really easy for him to forget about them.  Every year he thinks “I’m going to remember Christmas at least.”  Then it’s 4 am on Christmas Eve and he’s scrambling to put something together.   

#8 Which character has such crappy luck, they only discover their potato allergy after pigging out on latkes?

Martin.  He was probably really excited about having a nice holiday dinner with his boyfriend and his family.  Then he ends up in the ER.  That’s a great way to spend your first holiday with the love of your life.  Isaac, the boyfriend, feels guilty because he made the latkes.

#9 The Krampus has arrived to punish your very bad characters. Which character is kinda into it?

Eva, because she’s been looking for a reason to fight someone all month.  All of the seasons feelings of kindness grate on her after awhile.  So, if a monster showed up throwing his weight around she’d be overjoyed.  “Finally I get to hit something!”

#10 One of your characters should be on the naughty list, but has convinced Santa to clear their name. Which character is it, and what was their means of persuasion?

Sophie. She’d sit Santa down a broker it like a business deal.  She’d have a contract with clauses saying she’ll never be on the naughty list no matter how many times she’s brought in for questioning by the police in exchange for starting a college fund for the neighborhood children or something.

Four years ago, I "took a short break" from writing my massive The Mandalorian DinCobb fic, Stack the Deck. I'd tried to start it again multiple times to no avail, until last fall when I finally got the traction I needed to push past the blocks and figure shit out.

Now, I present the first three chapters of part 2, Tatooine Shift. I am massively proud that I finally got it mostly finished. I've also been working on these tarot-style cards for a few months, too, which have been a lot of fun to design and put together.

Big thanks to @staranon95 for all the help and encouragement, and whose enthusiasm for this story has never waned, despite the years.

CW: multiple Whumpers, reluctant Whumper, general violence, knives, intimidation, extortion, stealing for love 🤍

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Of all the odd jobs Belanger forced him into, this one definitely heralded Chris' new personal rock bottom. Yesterday a pusher, tomorrow a pimp. Today, the repo man downtown, retrieving what that lump of filth on the floor rightfully owed.

"Where's my money, Ian?" Belanger asked, dangerously unenthused, and took another step forward. The man cowering under him had gotten himself quite the place: a nice interior for a nice dorm - so many knickknacks to crush, yet so little time.

"Where is my goddamn money?"

It had always been the same spiel ever since Chris went on his first trip with his least favorite middleman; the people whining on the ground in the remainders of their self-respect had become more familiar than his own reflection.

Ian skidded back, his head hitting the windowsill roughly when no more way was given for his escape, a trail of blood dragging with his every movement. The first lamp Belanger smashed in impatience had dug tiny shards of glass deeply into his flesh.

"I have it- I swear, just..." he coughed, "I'm getting my check at the end of the week, yeah?!"

Oh, Ian… Bad call, buddy. Chris shook his head quietly. Back dutifully blocking any way out of Ian's precarious situation, he tried his best to drown out the fuss.

A flick of his wrist - then another tasteless ceramic decoration toppled over, shattering into a thousand pieces on the ground. The noise was undeniable, another reason for him to keep a lookout. Chris could only hope for this farce to be over soon.

Despite all of Belanger's effort, Ian was still a far stretch away from shedding a tear. His Elliot would have had a breakdown by now. The thought that not long ago Chris had performed a similar show with him stung deeply in his heart. How scared the poor thing had been…

Eager to shift into high gear, Belanger dropped down into a squat, blade flicking awake in his palm. Ian flinched backward, trying to bury himself inside the wall.

"I-I'll get you everything! I just need more time to-"

The sharp edge quivered expectantly, hungry to reprimand any foul copout. The time for talking was long over.

Here comes the ugly part.

"That’s what you promised last week, didn't you?" Belanger drawled, "So I let you off easy, again, only to get fucked over. Again."

And the threat.

The knife glided smoothly along the soft skin of his cheek, only coming to a stop when Belanger nicked a tiny mole near the man's eye. A smear of red on the steel proved his determination: "Or should I ask your mom for your share?"

There it was: the knockout argument that always got them more cooperative, without fail. Ian could only nod frantically.

As Chris closely watched specks of light dance in Belanger’s lardy scalp, the only source of entertainment this afternoon, his interest shifted towards the perfectly organized shelves once again.

"Cozy" popped into his head and left a queasy feeling. His Ell surely missed homely comfort in their one-bedroom dump, but Chris had soon realized that a visit to his parents was the last thing he needed now. That useless duo had botched taking care of their son long enough.

I can, though. I will.

The spittle bubbling from Ian's mouth with every plea he tried to appease his creditor with only added more insult to injury. As if two to tango wasn't enough, Belanger paused the act for a second and gave his chaperone an inviting look:

"Does he think I'm stupid?"

Despite his stone facade, he always had a penchant for dramatics - probably took one too many theater classes before dropping out of middle school.

No chance, Chris was in no mood to play. One could claim all the late-night visits to their boss's office rubbed off on Belanger in the worst way possible. How could he enjoy their line of work?

A silent shrug was all he could give him. They weren't dealing with the usual clientele: far away from the familiar crackheads of East Hastings, this unlucky college student with a budgeting problem presented a nice change of pace for once. Yet Ian was just plain boring, and painfully so.

Ell would hate me for this. The lovesick man swallowed hard, his regrets tasting as bitter as ever.

Gradually, hidden behind scattered laundry and a now chipped wardrobe, a strange shape caught his eye: a long box ripped open only at one end leaned against the wood, with a familiar black-and-white pattern peeking out.

No way. If it really was what Chris thought it to be, the dry spell in his love life would soon be in the past.

He took his first slow step away from the door and towards the object of desire, mindful to not get too giddy too quickly, and pressed a finger down on the white key closest to the top.

Nothing. He tried again, a black one this time. Still, nothing but a low thud, even though the keyboard looked brand new, like his were the only fingers ever touching it. At the bottom of the box, he discovered a neatly coiled electric cord.

"Does that work?" Chris grunted, finally speaking for the first time since knocking on the dorm's door. He had to make sure the fragile idea sprouting in his mind wouldn't wither instantly.

"Huh?" Ian tried squirming away from the blade that pressed red lines under his chin with every stroke. The lighting from the floor lamps lit his petrified face in a soft glow; if his liking for instruments was as tasteful as his interiors, Chris had just struck gold.

"How loud does it get?"

"What?" Ian mewled, still staring up at the man whose other hand wrapped tightly around his neck, ready to clench when Belanger declared the begging too excessive.

"How loud?" Chris repeated, impatiently picking at his beard, "Like room level or more?"

"Do you want him to play us a tune while we wait for my money?"

Belanger snapped around, suddenly much less excited. The last thing he liked was Morris raining on his parade. There was no need for a demonstration, though - Chris only cared for a private performance far away from this busted-up amateur.

"It has-" the shaky answer wormed itself out of the man in high pitches, "a-a headphone jack, I think!"

Chris nodded, finally satisfied: "That'll do."

"Please, it was a gi-"

Ian's lament was cut short by a kick to the ribs, knocking all air out of his lungs. Panting, he curled up like a worm in the sun and kept quiet.

It was a gift indeed, a good one at that. How thoughtful of Chris; it wasn't even their one-month anniversary!

Beside him, Belanger, too, decided to rise back to his feet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled, low and without any real curiosity behind it.

Morris was overstepping again. Only one of them decided what would and wouldn't do as compensation, and it certainly wasn't the city's least eligible bachelor.

Oh, please. Belanger had become less and less intimidating with every hour spent together. A man who ate his shawarma with a side of pickled beets couldn't invoke his fear anymore, no matter how much Chris' knee ached with every one of his words.

Accordingly, he answered with a stare that told Belanger as long as Ian didn't bleed money, this act wouldn't get them anywhere. Dutch liked his bills spotless, without much ado. The only blood he craved was the one he himself allowed to flow free.

A draw, then. Fine. It was time to wrap this mess up.

Muttering curses under his breath, Belanger snatched a thin wallet off the cupboard. He wouldn't return empty-handed; certainly not without collecting the daily balance.

"Interest," he huffed, throwing the piece of leather down after gutting it thoroughly, waving the wad of cash in front of Ian, "for my troubles."

He nodded, despite it stinging like hell. Some people had to taste the consequences first before believing them. Next time, they would take something that couldn't be replaced.

Tugging the box under his arm, Chris stepped through the door without a second glance. Oh, how thrilled Elliot would be, at least in the fantasy that clouded all of Chris' senses.

"Friday, Ian. Don't forget me again, or I'll make sure you think about nobody else."

And as suddenly as they barged into the dorm living, they disappeared again, leaving Ian bleeding, terrified, yet safe for another few days. He could bear the cuts all over his skin, the ache lingering in his ribs. But not whatever came next.

The man who had so casually taken his electronic keyboard surely attracted unwanted attention, if not from strangers, then surely from Belanger - the only loser in this bargain.

Ian had his new deadline, and Chris, all airy in his stride, lost himself to an idea in full bloom.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Just updated chapters 5 and 6 of Stack the Deck: Tatooine Shift! We get another new POV, and a tender moment between Din and Cobb.

This is one of the new tarot cards I made for this story, featuring my OC Trella as "The Traitor." I've been making two versions of each card, one that is specific to the story, and one that is Rider-Waite Major Arcana. The RW version is below the cut.

Yes, I did it again 😌 OC vine compilation 1 | 2 | 3