Song: Love Flew Away by Laufey & Adam Melchor
At 6:30 in the morning, you clambered out of bed with the most excruciating bout of muscle pain you had experienced in a long time.
Your tussle with Cagney had all but left you unscathed (the burn on your wrist being particularly itchy), your late night with Dice had left you exhausted, and the rain had left you with a slight sniffle. All in all, you felt terrible...and yet you couldn't wait to get out of your apartment, sprint to Isle Two, and earn your freedom. After nearly two years of Hell on Earth, literally, you were nearly out of it. Your pain was pushed to the back of your mind as soon as your feet hit the floor, and it stayed there within the amount of time it took you to bathe, dress, and eat.
This was it.
You knew where the cups were (vaguely) and you knew what they looked like (vaguely). You mentally repeated Dice's description to yourself as you strapped your revolver to your hip, replacing your coat with a grand flourish as it arched before resting on your shoulders. Your eyes wandered to your briefcase, ceasing a moment before you shook your head.
No...it would slow you down. You could pack some extra ammo in your coat, should the need arise.
After doing such, you were out the door, feet pounding down the hallway as you entered the elevator and rode it to the lobby.
This was it.
~~~
At 6:30 in the morning, Dice woke up with a heavy conscience and a crick in his back. Sleeping at his desk was a habit that had been causing him issues for a while, but right now it felt like he deserved it.
It would still be a few hours before the morning rush came in. Though the casino never closed, there were specific times of the day that patrons preferred to drop by, typically beginning around 8 AM.
He would have until then to find you and, as the boss had put it, "cut ties."
Groaning, he slowly peeled himself away from the chair, mind still foggy and drained from the day before. His joints popped as he stood, stance wavering for a moment before retrieving his jacket from the floor. A deep and aggravated sigh escaped him as he worked to smooth out any wrinkles left behind.
He really didn't want to do this...
It wasn't like he had known you long enough to establish a real connection with you. In fact, though he knew a lot about you, there were still plenty of things that he didn't know. Would it really be a huge loss if he washed his hands of you?
...yes.
He gave up on the wrinkles, pulling the jacket on as he exited the office and retreated down the hallway. A few of the staff members were already bustling at their stations, eyes half-lidded and tired within the early morning haze. Dice nodded to a skeleton working over a craps table nearby as he veered toward the door.
"I'm going out," he said.
The skeleton nodded, giving him a soft salute as Dice disappeared through the front entrance.
He really didn't want to do this.
~~~
Your shoes were soaked.
It had been a muddy trek through the maze of puddles and gunk left over from yesterday's downpour, not to mention the cars that drove past and spewed up waves of water from the gutters. It was a tad inconvenient...but you didn't have the time to be aggravated over it.
Instead, you only jogged faster, winding through the multiple twists and turns of the city until the bridge leading to Isle Two fell into view. The Die House was visible in all of its crimson glory, perched atop the concrete gateway like a throne. A part of you silently hoped that it wouldn't be unoccupied today; That you could share this excitement with somebody who actually seemed to care about it.
Unfortunately, the house had been empty.
No matter. You could fill him in later, once you deliver the cups.
You started your search in the South, focusing on the carnies and guests that had congregated near the coasters. Few of them were of any help, however. After a half hour of asking questions, you had managed to gather that one of the carnival's staff members, a creepy old clown that you spent a majority of your childhood avoiding, had been done in earlier that morning.
Of course, nobody had seen the fight...only found the clown in shambles after the initial pummeling. You took this as a good sign, however. That meant these fellas were likely headed up North, and would probably loop back around to the other side of the isle before crossing over into the city. With any luck (and if you had anything to say about it) they wouldn't make it that far.
You took a glance at your list, tracing each line with your finger until landing on Isle Two:
-Beppi the Clown
-Djimmi the Great
-Baroness von BonBon
-Wally Warbles
-Grim Matchstick
You were relieved to see a few familiar faces as the list of names stared back at you. Beppi had been taken care of – that creep – and Djimmi was likely out of the way by now. You had dealt with him before, not as a bondsman, but with your father. It had been a tedious and scalding case, with a mass amount of backstabbing and doublecrossing mixed with the pressure to retrieve some artifacts that had been stolen from Djimmi's tomb.
It had taken the two of you three whole days before realizing that the old spirit was simply leading you on a wild goose-chase: a sorry attempt to declare income on stolen goods.
Turns out, even all powerful genies don't fancy paying taxes.
He wasn't that hard of a hitter, to put it frankly. If the cups knocked Beppi out of the race earlier that morning, chances were Djimmi was down for the count as well.
You skimmed over the Baroness, knowing that if they were still hung up with her, you would have likely heard about it. That wench loves to make a spectacle out of anything she can...
This left you with two options; two animals: Wally and Grim.
The cups had to be with one of them...
You started North, squeezing through crowds of carnival-goers as they congregated around various sideshows and within riding queues. With the rain coming to an end earlier that morning, the second Isle had once more sprung to life, bustling with music and laughter. You could hear the quartet entertaining a crowd somewhere off in the distance, accented by the rumble of coasters and the constant merry-go-round melody that seemed to have no origin point.
You had never felt so elated, and you would be sure that Isle Two was at the top of your list of places to visit once you got your contract back. A nice day at the carnival was long overdue, after all.
The crowds began to thin out as you approached the outskirts of the island. There were fewer games and rides here, the northmost side being used primarily for storage and repairs. The large and colorful clusters of tents became less frequent, and the rambunctious cacophony of noise was beginning to dwindle in your ears. In the distance (more to the East), you could see Grim's tower loom menacingly over the mountainside, the marble polished a strikingly bright white. A spire sat perched atop the roof, adding a sharp, foreboding aura to the structure.
It was nearly blinding in the early morning sun.
You'd best start with Warbles first...
Up the path, just ahead of you, a large birdhouse came into view. You had been here plenty of times before.
Like Cagney, you wouldn't consider the bird to be overly fond of you, the two of you having been acquainted through the more unpleasant aspect of your work.
The structure looked a bit more beaten down than usual. The paint job was ruined, chipped and flaking from what looked to be dozens of decently sized bullet holes. There were a few areas that appeared to be burnt as well, singed as if struck by an explosive.
You weren't sure if this was the cups' doing. This form of chaos and ruin looked distinctly different from the last fight you had stumbled upon, which wasn't a very good sign.
Perhaps their strengths and abilities were changing?
You knew of a few charms and oddities that could be purchased down at Porkrind's that might result in the wreckage you had seen on Isle One...but this looked different; military like. There was an odd smell in the air as well, though you had a hard time placing it at first.
Jet fuel?
You gently raised a hand to knock on the wood, cracked paint just barely brushing your knuckles, when you heard it.
From across the Isle, just above that blinding marble tower and its glinting spire, came a roar.
The ground seemed to quiver beneath your feet, the sudden outburst sending dozens of birds escaping from the surrounding trees.
Your attention snapped to the East, the tower now smothered in shadow as dark clouds began to swirl and fester about the roof. You couldn't see what was going on above the black...but you would catch glimpses. Bright, erratic bursts of color would peek through the clouds, followed by more roars and what looked to be the distinctly orange hue of fire. Loud claps of what sounded like thunder rang out repeatedly, some coming in large waves, then ceasing, then awakening again. There were some points it seemed that the entire sky lit up, and there was only one thing you knew of that could create that type of effect in the middle of the day: magic.
Forget Warbles...you had found them.
You broke into a sprint, heart racing as you crossed over a short bridge and darted past a broken down mausoleum, eyes never leaving the light show at the top of that tower.
This was it. You had them. You had them. It wasn't even eight o'clock, and you had them.
Your speed increased as you neared the base of the building, now standing only a few kilometers away; meters; yards; feet; inches.
You came to a sudden stop outside the entrance, draped in shadow as an unseen battle waged above you. The lights from overhead were brighter now that you were closer; and colorful. You weren't sure if it was you or just the joyous circumstances...but it looked absolutely beautiful.
You began to run through your options.
You could climb the tower and face them head on, guns blazing. That was a rather stupid idea, of course. There was an angry dragon up there, after all, and you were in no hurry to die before you were given the chance to start living again.
You could wait on the stairs of the tower...once more, not the best idea. You weren't sure how violent this fight was going to get. For all you knew, Matchstick could bring the whole building down on top of you.
No, you would sit outside the entrance, and you would wait. You were a patient woman...two years you'd been doing this... you could wait a few more minutes.
"(Y/n)?"
Your heart leapt.
You knew that voice; You had spent quite a few hours within the realms of last night pondering that voice...
"Dice!" you smiled, turning to face him as he approached. You weren't sure how he'd gotten here, or when, or why, and you frankly didn't care. He was here and you were ecstatic. Your grin widened as he grew nearer, and you barely gave him a moment before taking him by the arm, pulling him close so you could drop your voice to a whisper.
"Do you hear that?" You asked, beaming up at the clouds overhead as a particularly loud crack of energy struck the air. You felt Dice recoil slightly in your grip, eyeing the scene above with caution.
"Yes," he mumbled. "Actually, it may be in our best interest to take this conversation elsewhere..."
You let out a soft chuckle, releasing him to let him stand as you propped your hands on your hips.
"Don't bust a button. Dice; y'a only got one left. Besides, that isn't lightning." You gestured to the swirling colors and clouds overhead. "That...is an angry dragon.
Now, you'll be sorry to hear it, but I've never been a gambling woman – always made sure to stay away from the stuff – but I'd bet you every last coin in my coat, closet, and sock drawer that there are two cups up there giving that three-headed snake a run for his money."
Dice shivered.
"You found them?"
"I. Found. Them."
He was once more greeted by that familiar feeling.
Badump. Badump. Badump.
Only this time, it wasn't excitement; It wasn't infatuation; It wasn't joy, or hope, or some dizzy spell caused by the delicate beauty of an immensely not delicate woman. This time it was fear; the fear of disappointing you. Of hurting you. Of losing you. How had you done this to him? Less than two days he'd known you... and yet his heart pounded at the thought of not having you in it.
Once more, he offered that deceitful smile.
"Excellent work, Ms. Straightway. I didn't doubt y'a for a second." His eyes wandered as he spoke, tone wavering as he looked back up to the tower's peak, the centripetal storm brewing like a dark whirlpool against the watery sky. "I'm afraid I'm here with less pleasant news..."
You took a quick step back.
"No," you warned, pointing to him. "Don't tell me he's gone and changed the deal again. I swear I'll kill him. I'll kill him!"
You had come too far for Scratch to start pulling on otherworldly strings. He didn't get to change the stakes or requirements. Not now...
Dice gently waved a hand away.
"Nothing like that," he assured you. "You're still all set. It's...well it's more of a personal matter."
Thunder clapped from above, sending a shiver down his spine. Things were starting to sound brutal up there. It wouldn't be long before Matchstick was down for the count, and when he was...
The last thing Dice wanted was to be around when you found the cups. He could stand for you to hate him, but he couldn't stand having to see you hate him; having to be there when your world crumbled; when the facade broke; when you figured out the game and realized he'd cheated.
He'd cheated...
"Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more secluded?" he suggested, nodding toward the opposite end of the path. "Y'know, for privacy's sake?"
You shook your head.
"Are you kidding? I can't just walk away from this," you said. "What if they come down while I'm gone? I'm so close, six-sides. So close."
There was nobody else around...surely he would be fine to talk here, right?
He didn't look very convinced; in fact, he wasn't. Dice just wanted to say what he had to say, and leave...but the chances of that happening were slowly beginning to lessen as the war raged on from overhead.
"I really think it would be in our best interest to walk and talk," he stressed, clasping his hands to emphasize his urgency.
You frowned, gaze trailing from him, up to the tower, and back.
You shouldn't risk it...you really shouldn't.
You trusted Dice. You understood him, and he understood you...he knew how it felt to want out of the Devil's clutches. You trusted his reasoning. There was no way he'd want to deplore you of your freedom; not when it was so representative his own.
"Fine," you grumbled, "but only if we stay on the path leading to Isle Three. If those cups come out of that tower, I want to be able to catch 'em before they slip through."
Dice felt as though a ton of bricks had been knocked from his shoulders.
"Of course, Ms. Straightway." He held an arm out to his side with a soft bow. "After you."
~~~
The tower was still visible in the distance, and that put your mind at ease.
Dice had somewhat rushed you a bit, making nervous small talk as you followed the path further south, looping around and back to the bridge now visible a few meters away. The carnival had become more crowded, which seemed rather counterintuitive seeing as Dice had wanted more privacy. You didn't think on it too hard, barely focusing on the conversation at hand as you kept your eyes glued to the top of the tower.
"You slept well?" Dice asked, cautiously glancing back to look at the tower as well every once-in-a-while.
It was a boring question, and though he cared about you (in some ways more than he probably should), it wasn't one he was desperate to have answered. It was merely small-talk. A distraction. A way for him to build the courage to let you go.
"Good," you hummed with a soft smile. You had to admit, though your thoughts were elsewhere at the moment, you were relieved that you were getting to see him again. You couldn't explain it, but a part of you always felt so whole when he was around. "You?"
"Good."
Silence hung in the air after he answered, tense and awkward in a way that made both of you uncomfortable. You felt like he was holding out on you. There was definitely something else on his mind, but the man was simply impossible to read...
"This'll do," he said, breaking the silence as he ushered to a bench sat just beside the edge of the Isle, overlooking the water below. There was music emanating from all directions, a sweet smell of old rain and sugar wafting through the air that was almost intoxicating.
Yes...the carnival would be one of your very first stops after this was all over.
The fight at the other end of the Isle waged on, each strike of lightning and crackle of magic still clearly audible as you took a seat, Dice following soon after.
It took him a moment to get the words out. They didn't come quickly, and they didn't come easy. He wasn't sure where to start, nor to end, or even what to say in between. So, King Dice simply spoke, letting his instincts do all the hard work as his eyes traveled to the sea.
"I gotta admit, Ms. Straightway, you're not making this easy on me," he began, tension building in his chest. "I'd be a fool to think that you ever would; you're tenacious like that, and I don't think you even realize it.
You've got ahold of me.
You've got ahold of me in a way I can't even begin to explain, and that's dangerous; you're dangerous."
An unfamiliar feeling began to coil in your stomach.
"Dangerous? Don't flatter me," you strained. You weren't sure why, but the overall atmosphere of the conversation had just placed you on edge. It was uncomfortable; smothering; suffocating.
You didn't like where this was going.
He met your gaze with a silent frown, eyes set on yours just as they always were: ever-studying.
"Life's a game, darlin'. One that we all lose eventually, even when it doesn't seem fair."
You shifted away from him, befuddled and a tad amused. He wasn't making much sense...but the things he had said didn't completely escape you. His words were kind. They were also heartbroken. He was hurting, you just didn't know why.
"Don't speak in riddles, Dice. Whatever you've gotta say, say it with your whole chest."
His frown deepened as he slumped back against the seat with a huff.
"This is impossible," he grumbled, taking a moment to bury his face in his hands. "You're impossible, and not in the bad way. Hell, this would probably be easier if you were impossible in the bad way!"
This?
"Jesus, Dice, what are you on abou-"
You stopped mid-sentence, the silence engulfing the two of you like warm water. Though the carnival music was still sounding in the distance, there was something missing. Something had changed.
You glanced over at the tower, eyes lighting up at whatever it was you saw.
In turn, Dice's anguish deepened as you seemed to not quite take this as seriously as he wanted you to.
"Do you hear that?" you smiled.
He shook his head.
Your grin widened.
"Exactly..."
You craned for a better look at the tower, the sky surrounding it beginning to clear. You were on your feet in an instant, hiking up your pants and adjusting your coat before taking him by the shoulders.
"Dice, I swear that I will listen to everything that you have to say, I swear it, but right now, I gotta go!"
With that, you leapt over the back of the bench, scrambling to regain your balance as you hit the concrete, staggering for only a moment before darting north.
Dice tried his absolute best to catch you by the arm; the coat; the waist; anything. Unfortunately for him, you slipped right out of his grasp.
Damn.
"Wait! Straightway! (Y/n)!" He called, getting up and chasing after you.
He couldn't lose you like this. Not like this. He could let you down, break your heart, make you cry...but he couldn't see you hate him. He couldn't let you win.
The truth always hurts.
You had made it up the path, the tower now only a few yards away when Dice's voice cut through the adrenaline rush in your ears. You threw a quick glance over your shoulder, not being able to spot him when you collided with something.
Someone...
It had been a terrible fall, sending you tumbling forward face first into the earth below. You felt something in your nose crack, forcing a yelp to escape you as pain conquered your senses.
Whatever, or whoever, you had tripped over was still at your feet, a groan escaping them.
You swiftly flipped around to look at your assailant.
"THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE...
...doing?"
A kid stared back at you, wide eyed and stunned at your outburst. He was a short little thing; a cup, dressed in blue and seemingly exasperated. The poor fella was scraped to bits, chips and cracks visible anywhere and everywhere.
He looked like he'd had the sense beat out of him.
"I, uh...sorry I didn't...y-you just..." He fumbled over himself as he grasped for an apology. "I didn't see you! You came outta nowhere I just-"
"Mugsy!" Another voice shouted. You turned to see another cup approaching you, decked in red and just as damaged as he hurriedly hauled his brother up off the ground. "You alright? Look, we gotta get going! We've only got so many hours left 'for...hey, who's the dame?"
You were at a loss for words, staring these two down as if they'd risen from the earth like daisies.
"Oh, y'know," Dice had grinned, " 'bout yay high...
Younger fellas, twenties or so. One's a bit stronger than the other, but they are undoubtedly brothers.
...black cable-knit sweaters; turtlenecks. Shorts, yellow plimsoll shoes. And, of course, they're a pair of cups. Y'a can't miss 'em."
Black cable-knit sweaters; turtlenecks.
Shorts.
Yellow plimsoll shoes.
And, of course, they're a pair of cups,
Y'a can't miss 'em.
"Cuphead," the blue one scolded, "don't call her that! She looks like a nice, respectable young lady." He redirected his attention to you, offering a hand to help you off the ground. "I'm sorry about that, miss. Are you ok? Your nose looks pretty bad..."
You were too dazed to reply, only continuing to stare as you subconsciously took his hand. Once on your feet, the two stood at about waist height, craning up to look at you with confused expressions.
"You're...kids." You whispered.
The red one crossed his arms with a huff.
"And," he spat, "what about it?"
"You're kids," you repeated, slower this time; more bewildered as the realization began to set in.
The game's over. You lost.
Had you, though? You could still fight them; You could still take them to Scratch; You could still collect your contract and go free...
No you couldn't. You couldn't bring yourself to do that, no matter how slighted and angry it made you feel.
Instead you just stared at them, mortified. The blue one's concerned look deepened as he exchanged glances with his brother, shrugging before looking back up at you.
"Uh...miss?" He asked. "You alright there?"
You slowly shook your head.
"I...you're just...you-"
"(Y/n)?"
That voice.
You knew that voice.
You had loved that voice up until about five seconds ago.
Dice's face fell as he approached, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the cups standing before you. They looked as if they could rip him apart on sight...
Right now, you couldn't blame them.
Dice's excuses leapt from him faster than he could process their meaning; their integrity.
"Darlin', I can explain-"
"Did you know about this?" You asked.
Of course he did. He was there when the deal was struck.
Maybe he didn't know that you had an age limit?
Of course he did. He wouldn't have lied if he hadn't.
His silence was all you needed as an answer.
"Why?" You asked. "Why would you...I don't understand..."
A sigh escaped him as he looked away, shaking his head softly as he began to speak.
"I can't expect you to, Ms. Straightway. You're so used to playing fair, I suppose it's become difficult to tell when someone else isn't. I had no choice, y'know...the boss would've gutted us both if I'd have been honest. I was never meant to get so close..."
"Was a single word you said true?" you asked, stepping toward him. The cups scurried out of your way as you did so, watching in silent anticipation at the scene in front of them. "Your parents? Your life? Your feelings? Your name?"
Dice stepped forward as well.
"It was true!" he stated. "Every word of it! Y'a gotta understand that I didn't want to lie! You've got no idea how much it hurt me to have to-"
"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea," you seethed. Tears were beginning to brim in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to force them away. You couldn't let them fall.
Not for him.
Not now.
Not where he could see it.
"I've got a pretty good idea that I should have never trusted you! I should have never taken your stupid list, or followed you back out into the rain last night! I should have just let you walk away!
I knew.
I knew that something was off! That you'd come back and screw me over! I should have just listened to my gut, but no. You had to come into my life and tear me apart before leaving me imprisoned and unsatisfied!"
"Your deal is still open to-"
"My deal is a lie hinged on the false hope that Scratch would ever keep his word! That I have a chance; had a chance!"
Dice's face fell stern; cold and unforgiving. A familiar feeling washed over him; one that he had grown so accustomed to after all these years, he had barely managed to control it anymore.
"I care about you, doll, so allow me to take a moment and be straight with you: Get off your high horse. They're just debtors; idiots who 'didn't know when to put the dice down'. You can still get your contract back."
"Is that what you would do? Turn them over to the Devil and save your own skin?" you asked, giving him an accusatory glare. You already had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say. Still, you wanted him to answer.
You wanted to hear him say it.
"Yes," he admitted. "I'd turn 'em over without hesitation."
This is the part that Dice had wished to avoid; the part he was anxious to circumvent by talking with you a few minutes ago...but no; The cups had to traipse in and force him to show his hand, and now you were both suffering for it.
"Wow..." you muttered, looking away from him and to the ground beneath you, fists tensed.
"Darlin', please, just-"
"Don't," you spat. "Don't call me that. I can't..."
You trailed off again, the tears now becoming more forceful in their attempt to escape. You were never the type to run, but right now, you felt like running. You felt like running and never turning back; never again looking into those ever-studying eyes.
"I'm sorry," you muttered. "I'm sorry we ever crossed paths...that we ever..." Every memory hidden within the night that came before began to crash back down onto you like waves. With each smile and laugh, your heart wound tighter.
Your eyes grew watery.
Your mind grew angrier.
"You should have just stayed at the casino," you spat.
With this, you turned away. The urge to break into a shout – to yell and snarl and scream at him – was beginning to overtake you, and you didn't want to do that here. Not now, especially in front of those boys.
So you turned, and you ran.
The cups had observed this entire fiasco from afar, confused and enthralled by this mysterious lady and the sleazy manager they had come to despise so much.
When Dice brought a hand out to stop you, however, they had seen enough.
Fate had such a nasty habit of letting you slip through Dice's fingers.
"Hey!" one of them spat. "Leave the gal alone!"
The two overtook the space separating you, blocking Dice's path and anxious for the chance to turn him in right here, right now.
"Yeah, let her be!" the other echoed. "She obviously doesn't wanna talk to you, so beat it!"
The trio began to bicker with one another, Dice's heart dropping more and more as your silhouette began to recede further into the distance.
Right through his fingers.
~~~
The carnival wasn't as pretty when it was a blurred mess. The colors became splotchy, the music deafening. It was all a cacophony of multi-colored streaks as you continued shoving past people, looking for somewhere – anywhere – to stop and rest.
Your bleary eyes landed on the alley between two decommissioned carnival games, and you went for it.
You ducked around the corner of one of the tents, scrubbing at any tears that might have escaped in a desperate attempt to act stronger than you were. You slumped against one of the support beams, focusing on trying to steady your breath.
You hated him.
He was a liar; a con; a thief.
He had stolen everything from you: your trust, your mind, your thoughts. Hell, you could even argue to say that he had stolen a little splinter of your heart, but that sounds rather cliche, doesn't it?
To have someone steal your heart.
To have them take it and cradle it for a day. One day...you had known Dice for one day, and yet he broke you to the point that it had felt like a lifetime. You had told him everything. You had shared yourself with him, and what did he do?
He played you. He played you just like he did everybody else. Dice was the Devil's right hand, and he had finally decided to open up and act like it.
Just like you knew he would.
What a foolish girl you were; a foolish dreamer, hinged on hope and flights of fancy, drowning in thirst for satisfaction and belonging. You had played his game. You had lost. And it hurt.
It hurt like hell.
A voice rose over the chaos of your shaky breathing, timid, but determined all the same as you felt a small tug at the hem of your coat.
"Uh...Miss? Are you alright there?"
You swiftly looked down, met by one of the boys from earlier. The one in blue peered up at you with a thoughtful look as he waited for your answer. His brother stood a few feet away, peeking around the corner of the tent with suspicious interest, almost appearing bored by the situation.
"I'm fine, kid. Thank you," you managed to rasp, composing yourself to the best of your ability as you discretely wiped away any remaining tears with your hand. The mug stepped back to give you some air, ushering his brother to approach. The cup in red was reluctant, obviously eager to hurry up and get going again, but he came forward anyway.
"So," you sighed, "you boys are the ones giving Scratch so much trouble?" You gave them a gentle smile as you crouched down to their level, the two exchanging a confused look.
"Scratch?" one of them asked.
"The Devil," You clarified.
The two seemed to like the nickname, trying it out in a few fake insults and jeers before nodding at you.
"Yeah, that's us. What's it to y'a?" The red one asked, looking you over accusingly. It was clear that he didn't trust you, not that you blamed him. He and his brother had seen the entire scene with Dice go down a few moments ago, not to mention that you were a stranger to them.
Admittedly, the way they had stepped in to scare him off had been rather heroic.
They were good kids.
"Well...he and I aren't on the best of terms right now," you sighed. "If you boys will allow it...
...I'd like to help you take him down."
________________________________________________________________________________
A/n: Ok but props to Straightway for being the bigger person here cause I would've whooped his ass. I really enjoyed introducing the boys in this chapter, and found it absolutely hilarious that she literally tripped over one of them...
Anyways, here's to shattered dreams and foolish hearts I guess.
Fun Fact: This chapter took me the longest to write. Period. I had the most writer's block, it had nearly 24 pages, and the vibes just weren't working...so, I hope you enjoyed this emotional train wreck of a chapter.
Happy Reading!
-Song-Birds