VINTAGE ILLUSION.

ind. priv. sel. kleken ( alchemy stars )

[fleurescentia]

For a moment, the lightheadedness intensifies, leaving Indigo feeling oddly adrift in that gaze directed at her. But the feeling quickly changes into something else, something heavier, that seems to get caught in her throat like thin fabric on a branch of thorns. She swallows it down, averting her gaze for some reprieve. Though her staff remains safely in her hand, lighting it would do little to illuminate the path ahead.

‘ Why, I… ’ It’s not a complicated question, though. These waters aren’t so muddied, and the answer, if insufficient, should be clear. She faces Kleken again, fully intent on delivering that simple reply. ‘ I’m not sure. I only have the coins you gave me, and I don’t know if they could rent me a room for the night somewhere. ’ Yes, that. Simple, clear.

‘ Or perhaps...would you mind if I stayed with you? ’ 

A second passes before Indigo’s eyes round with a realisation, a gasp following the moment of terror. If she keeps saying weird things like that, it’ll will only give that naughty-accusation undue credence!

‘ Um, that is, I could sleep on a couch, or perhaps the floor. ’ The words come uncharacteristically rushed. ‘ I-I wouldn’t mind! I’ve spent many nights in the wastelands, after my tent got stolen…twice. A-and I used to sleep on the rocks in my hometown, right next to the sea. So, you see, I’m quite used to it. ’ There, that should clear things up.

‘ Why, I could even stay right here. ’ That…she shouldn’t have added that. Indigo falls silent, her gaze returning to the waves. Maybe a splash of water would help and free her from what must be the wine’s lingering effects.

[octouso]

Surprised, Kleken's brows ascend. Try, as Indigo might, to correct herself, it is too late. The opportunity has revealed itself, and Kleken snatches it without hesitation to tease.

"Oh my, how naughty. You're going to make me blush,"   he drawls, turning his head aside in mock bashfulness. His eyes, however, never deviate from the charming circle of Indigo's face, weighing whether or not to make something more of it.

If he did, headquarters would be a foul place for someone like Indigo to stay and travel would be lengthy. And if either were not true? Kleken realizes he's not inclined to take her there, anyway.

"If we stay here ... Well, there is no telling what might happen. I warned you about the monsters that lurk by the ocean—"  His voice trails off with the omen. After all, one monster, in particular, is doing his utmost to behave, a task made laborious with every straying glance she casts toward the moonlit sea.

"So, my adorable fairy—"  Kleken gives her a gentlemanly, sharp-toothed smile.  "To save your pretty face from the clutches of those terrible, terrible creatures, I will continue to guide you."

The tentacle fast around her waist finally loosens its grip and retreats back to Kleken, and he beckons her onward as he takes down the street. "After all, why choose to sleep on rocks when you can find comfort in a most fantastical abode? You wait and see."

[thatsbelievable]

Game of the Week

Which ship will reach the lighthouse first?

ANSWER: None of these ships will reach the lighthouse because, kraken.

[ashstfu]

*lying* why would i lie

[fleurescentia]

Their exit from the restaurant is a blur that passes her by almost without notice. She has half a mind to protest against something said just before their departure, but the thought drifts away with the nightly breeze. The cool salt-scented air doesn’t dispel her daze entirely, but it helps, her steps slowly steadying.

Unfortunately, this only serves to leave Indigo in a dreadful in-between state: sober enough to sink into deep embarrassment, yet not quite sober enough to order the muddled thoughts clouding her mind into a fully coherent explanation.

‘ No… ’ she says with an attempted shake of her head, abandoned half-way for the dizziness it might bring. ‘ My apologies for what happened. And thank you for helping me…again. ’ One hand still clinging to her staff as if for life support, she lightly pats the arm wrapped around her waist (it is an arm, right?) with her other hand, hoping to convey her appreciation.

‘ My friend Blue Poison… she always says I’m a little slow. Toxins…and such don’t affect me right away. I’ve been too careless. You needn’t worry, though, Mister Kleken…I’ll be better soon. ’ At least she certainly hopes so. She can feel the daze slowly dissipating, like thinning fog.

‘ I know that doesn’t excuse my behaviour. Why, I’d understand if you’d abandoned me already… ’ Indigo sighs, her gloomy gaze drifting over the many-coloured lights shimmering reflected on the water. ‘ Your words merely…reminded me of what my teacher told me, and…those feelings I carry must run deeper than I thought. I’m truly sorry for my in…inadequacies. I hope you can forgive my actions. ’

[octouso]

Hmm. The information of Indigo's tolerance is folded and sloppily tucked away into the pocket of his mind, too distracted to attend to its value right now. The hand lying against his tentacle holds his attention, rapt with a wicked mix of amusement and bemusement.

Too careless, she is, indeed—a far cry from the textbook definition of a heroine, with no signs of amending her actions or future ones. Still, it would be an ineloquent lie to say she did not continue to accrue an octopus' interest.

"Abandoning a cute fairy to the wilds of the dark in her time of need? I could never!"   Kleken speaks a different lie, betraying nothing—or, well, not much—there would be no viable gain in abandoning anyone now. He even clicks his tongue, letting pity seep into his voice.   "Poor thing, you're more affected than I thought ..."  

The slippery arm around Indigo's waist tightens, bringing them closer. A hand, then poised in a loose fist, seemingly reaches for her flushed cheeks, as if to caress them with his white knuckles. But the intent wavers, becomes illusive, and his fingers continue their ascent to adjust the brim of his hat.

Kleken inclines his head, letting a slant of moonlight illuminate the lens on the bridge of his nose. From beyond its rim, he gives her a wink.

"Yet, I can't forgive you at all, my dear. Why don't you begin to make up for it by telling me where you'll stay for the night?"

[fleurescentia]

‘ T-that bad? ’ Seeing Kleken so dejected rattles something loose inside of her, and it sinks like a stone lost to the sea. It’s an old hurt that surfaces in its stead, overlapping the disappointed looks Kleken sends her way with those of another. ‘ I’m.. sorry. S-so sorry. ’

The words are heartfelt, and Indigo falls silent afterwards, merely nodding at the suggestion of departure. She absently pats non-existent crumbs off her skirt before rising to her feet and reaching for her staff. The latter turns into an unexpected lifeline, Indigo slightly swaying as if adrift in the waves, her weapon the only foothold against the tide, candlelights dancing at the edge of her vision like fireflies.

‘ Am I… mistaken? ’ she half-questions, half-mutters to herself, grabbing her staff tighter. ‘ Am I meant to… to become a heroine? Is that why… why teacher made me leave? Why, I… ’

The rest becomes incomprehensible, and as she takes a wobbly step towards the (indeed impatiently waiting) server, Indigo only briefly lifts her staff off the ground. Matching her step, she sets it down again and—

The staff lights up, several gently glowing violet lines spreading across the floor like luminous spiderwebs. The swirling spirals of light quickly grab hold of Kleken’s legs, the server’s—even those of some other guests nearby, gently yet firmly keeping all affected stuck in place.

‘ Huh…? Ahh… Why, I didn’t mean to… ’ And yet, instead of ending her spell, Indigo reaches into her bag, futilely searching for the stack of LMD lost and replaced earlier. She finds a coin instead and lifts it to the light of her staff, her expression showing not a single sign of enlightenment. The loud complaints of her “victims” finally snap Indigo out of her reverie.

‘ S-sorry!—There you go. ’ The glowing labyrinth vanishes in an instant, and Indigo leans her forehead against the staff to stop another onset of swaying, to minimal success.

[octouso]

The intervention foils a great escape so carefully abided and staged, now disastrously halted, and Kleken peers down at the violet tendrils around his legs with muted distaste. Whatever they are, the bands of light are relentless in their vice-like snare and curiously match the color illuminating Indigo's staff—pulling his attention toward its glow.

It begs the question: was she vaguely aware of his attempted solo departure and thus craftily prevented it, or was luck smiling down upon her tonight? 

"My, my ..." Kleken says upon his release, the words contained in a smile, too. Indigo's sorry state is telltale that wine ( and luck, still ) is possibly to blame in the end. "I'm honored that you refuse to let me go, precious fairy. You're much more naughtier than I thought—"

A long stride brings him to her side to lightly catch her elbow, steadying the poor girl. All the while, the waiter is paid the meal's cost and expenses with proper Nightium tucked into a pouch like the one Kleken had bestowed to Indigo earlier, carefully smoothing over the wrinkles caused by her confusion.

Oh, these turn of events—it's almost laughable how different from how he had envisioned it. Almost.

"Dear fairy, we must make haste before the shadows envelope this place, too. Come now, one step at a time—"  With a tentacle furling around her waist like a lover's arm, Kleken helps escort Indigo out of the restaurant's premises and into the seaside streets. The open salt-sweet breeze and gurgling crest of waves stir something within him, and he can't help but slant a look through rose-colored lens.

Perhaps the sea will come before the shadow. However, beneath the veil of nighttime and glimmering port lights, Kleken can blend in and finally ask: "Now, what was all that really about? Was that my fault?"

[octouso]

After it had trailed so far up to reach the edge of her knee, the tentacle finally loses its grip and retreats. Kleken sets his fork aside and leans back again, slumping slightly against his seat.

"... I see," he says, voice dropping low with the weight of his disappointment. "Perhaps you're not the quarry I have been looking for. And, after all the hard labor I put into finding you ... It's a shame—why, I could be driven into tears."

The lie is glorious on his tongue, and Kleken savors it like the finest wine. Aria may not consider herself a heroine, but after this new facet of information, she's bound to weave a story nonetheless. And that is a lure of its own making.

The octopus fishes for napkins from the table, dabs them theatrically at the corners of his eyes, coming away dry, and sets them over his empty plate in finality. Here, Kleken returns to the usual facade as he resumes attention to Indigo again. "Oh well. No use crying over spilled expectations."

With a beckoning gesture, the waiter is called upon to their table, receipts already in hand as they approach. Kleken smiles and flicks up an arm, peering at the hour upon his watch.

"My, just look at the time. It has been a pleasure, little fairy,"  he says, running his fingers over the brim of his hat, tipping it. "But, we should take our leave now." // @fleurescentia continued from here

[octouso]

song challenge .

share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse .

cold, cold, cold - the family crest

masquerade (KP remix) - dirt poor robins

ofelia - kiltro

good intentions - coyote kid

deal you can't refuse - magic: the gathering, christina vee ( his theme song at this rate )

[octouso]

"Would you look at that? Ace, it is—"   He deftly flips the card in a demonstration, revealing the very suit on its face. Kleken nods, commending the success.   "How lucky! It appears that you've avoided great danger tonight ..."

A danger that he will not elaborate on, whether the truth of it looms over Highmore or is merely another lie. All that matters is that she also remains aware of its potential and suspense.

The card is placed onto the table, centered between the pair of glasses like the wedge of a judgment scale, before he gently shifts it towards Highmore for viewing. Tipping the metaphorical scale to be in her favor, or however the saying goes and what he likes to believe.   "Keep it—as a lucky charm. You never know when it may come in handy."

Kleken winks in a gambler's habit, then rises from his seat. He dusts away his tuxedo, sets his cuffs to rights, all in preparation to slither away.

"—However, that's enough games for now. I've grown rather bored from playing."   He's already halfway up the staircase when Kleken abruptly pauses and leans over the railing to say goodbyes.   "Until tomorrow, little wanderer-no-more." 

Should its backing be inspected, the soft warble of an illusion overlays the once intricate image with the royal suit of a King. Ace or King? It is up to Highmore to decide when heavy steps begin to pour into the hall, and the imposing figure of the Shadowlord waits at its threshold.  // @seawrought continued from here

[octouso]

let me assign you an affection language

VIOLENT DEVOTION

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?

tagged by: @seawrought you wanted disaster

[meow-moment]

guy who thinks hes a genius-level master manipulator who gaslights everyone so they do what he wants except none of his lies make sense and hes clearly not telling the truth but nobody wants to hurt his feelings so they all just go along with it

[thatsbelievable]

[octouso]

FLEURESCENTIA​:

Well, Indigo can’t offer assistance in finding fairytales — that would be operator Iris’ forte instead. But, she idly wonders while taking another bite, did that even answer her question? Maybe her phrasing had been lacking before, though she can’t see how. Or perhaps Kleken isn’t comfortable enough around Indigo to reveal such information just yet. In that case, establishing trust requires trust to be given first, and she’ll start by answering his questions instead.

        ‘ Why, it's— ’  Her sentence freezes with a sudden chill by her ankles, a cold and damp sensation akin to what she’d felt not too long ago when greeting Kleken’s “creatures”, as he called them. Why would one of them reach for her leg now, though?

        ‘ Um. ’  Maybe it lost its way under that table?  ‘ W-well, that, err… ’  Didn’t Kleken say these tentacles were attracted to her light?  ‘ Where I’m from, that day, it… ’  But she’s not casting now, so there’s no reason to reach for Indigo, is there?  ‘ That day arrived…decades ago. Ever since, only foolish people would take a boat out to sea for fishing. So… ’

Try as she may to explain serious matters in a serious manner, that peculiar sensation is simply impossible to ignore, and she stumbles over her words time and time again.

        ‘ E-even so! As a lighthouse keeper…apprentice, it falls to me to shine a light through the darkness should that day ever come again. A-and rest assured, I won’t fail. ’  Well, that is that, though a different matter requires addressing, and whatever shred of confidence she put on display moments before, it swiftly falls apart now.

        ‘ However, um, Mister Kleken, your— ’  How can she finish the question? What is the question, anyway? She reaches for her newly-filled glass, taking a generous helping in hopes of finding liquid encouragement. Sadly, if there’s any to be found in there, it won’t become apparent all that soon.

        ‘ W-well, that is, your— ’  She takes another sip, and the heat colouring her cheeks like rose petals forms a stark contrast to that damp cold below the table.  ‘ Are… are you… ’

Aware of what his “creatures” are doing? What if the answer has been yes all along? Indigo falls silent, futilely searching his face for an explanation.

"... Hmm, what is it?"   Kleken asks, drawing patterns on his plate with the last crabcake.  His face retains its witty poker face as if the octopus were perpetually caught at the prelude of a joke.   "I'm doing nothing more than listening to your tale and eating.  Is something wrong?"

He cants his head innocently.  The tentacle at her ankle climbs a fraction higher.

"Though I must say, your duty is quite inspiring,"   he continues, steadfast.   "Arriving from a distant land, shouldering a burden against the darkness——you sound like the heroine of a … fairytale."   The word is spoken like a sigh breaking free from a reverie.  It's the very sort he has claimed to be searching for and served well on a silver platter, too. 

It seems there is more weight to the nickname superimposed on Indigo, after all.  And the way she seems to glow—from the alcohol or some other mysterious manner that does not pertain to himself—is a sight for sore eyes.  Kleken lifts the lone crabcake and chews on it rather intently.

"My, little fairy,"   he says after finishing the meal.   "Perhaps you're not lost at all and have come to illuminate the darkness here, too.  I hope you'll shine as brightly as you say."   The creatures of said dark would also be interested in the spectacle.   "No, you must—before the Shadow swallows us all, leaving nothing behind."  

[octouso]

SEAWROUGHT​:

Strong warrior? That might just be his biggest lie yet, the line positively drenched in crap. If Highmore hadn’t been so pathetically weak, her body would be far from what it is now, after all. She watches Kleken deliver his little spiel with mild exasperation, barely keeping herself from sighing. Her interest only returns once he finishes his charade and the real contract becomes visible.

        ‘ There’s nothing to misunderstand. And this could’ve been done already if you’d just skipped those stupid tricks of yours. ’  Still, she redirects her glare to the page for now, which reveals a contract not unlike what she’d expected — except, perhaps, even shadier. And what’s with these oddly specific extra rules? “Going to the Holiday Cafe during work hours will result in a deduction of salary”? Either that Shadowlord-figure is incredibly strict, or the gang members mustn’t have taken their jobs too seriously if their behaviour led to rules like this.

Looking at Kleken here, lounging about and getting drunk from the looks of it, it’s probably the latter.

The long-suppressed sigh finally breaking through, Highmore places her signature on the page wherever required, then offers both pen and document for Kleken to take.

        ‘ There. Is that all? If so, what’s next? ’

Kleken leans back into his seat, brows inching upward with unbridled amusement.  Now what good would that do?  Leave out the few tricks and feints, and this process would be all too boring.  Highmore should be counting her lucky stars instead to be given such a splendid opportunity, no matter the hand that deals it.

Nevertheless, a tentacle reaches for the document and snatches it off the table before second decisions or doubts cloud her mind.  The paper is rolled up neatly at once and stored out of sight.

"'What next' indeed,"   he says, inflecting each word before humming to draw attention away from the dastardly contract.  Kleken considers Highmore with an arch look, searching at a space beyond her for answers to substitute the biding of time.  

Many lies and charades are within reach, bound to spin exciting stories from deceit—sending her to the heights of Lumopolis in search of a person that does not exist is tempting, to say the least.  Yet, the octopus settles for something simpler as his gaze falls onto a reminder sitting idly on the table.

"Well, we've yet to play a game——"   The stack of cards is picked up again and given another shuffle.  Yes, an easy one.  Kleken fixes himself a placid smile and adds,   "How about a guessing game?"  

Not allowing refusal to be a proper response, the first card is readily drawn and held loftily in the air, the diamond-like pattern facing Highmore.  He takes one glance at the suit, then peers over its edge.   "King, Queen, or Ace—which face card am I holding?  Do choose carefully, little wanderer, as your answer could lead to tragedy."

[octouso]

once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?

behind the mask

you aren’t slick about whatever you think you’re hiding.  glass shatters in your midst, blood spills, children scream.  like some of your friends, your personality of choice is entirely artificial.  the difference between you and them is that you can get away with it.  you’re unknown, perhaps even to yourself, and your goals are complex and unknown.  anyone stupid enough to fall for you is setting themselves up to be frustrated and confused, owing to your being ultimately unknowable.  i hope you can find an identity that makes you comfortable.

tagging:  @semiramistress​ , @generalzelgius​​ , and anyone else who’d like to try !

[octouso]

FLEURESCENTIA​:

        ‘ Lumina…? ’  If it sounds similar to Kleken, it must be what people around here call Arts. In that case, such a long-winded explanation likely hadn’t been necessary, and yet, he’d let Indigo ramble on this whole time without interrupting. Kleken truly is too kind, despite her many mistakes.

And there’s the food, delivered in a way Indigo can barely even fathom. Not only does every meal look delicious, but the presentation and warm candlelight further add to the appeal. When was the last time she’d been to a place this fancy? It’s been too long, and Indigo finds her thoughts drifting to her dearest friends. Whenever she returns to Rhodes Island, she has to invite them to have a meal just like this one, too. Well, although there’ll be less seafood…

        ‘ …eh…? ’  A toast? She’d almost missed it! Indigo hastily picks up her glass.  ‘ Ah, y-yes! To delicious meals and new friends. ’  But friends, she thinks to herself while taking a tentative sip of the expensive-looking champagne, should know a little more about each other, shouldn’t they? She sets the glass down (despite trying not to drink too much at once, Indigo somehow ends up half-emptying it) and picks up some cutlery instead. With all this food set before her, her stomach’s growling has only become harder to ignore.

        ‘ So, uhm. Mister Kleken, I wonder… Why, you seem to know this area well. Do you work around here? ’  There are other questions to ask, but for now, Indigo takes a bite of her crabcakes, then another.  ‘ Mmh, and your suggestions are wonderful. To think there’d be places where people could catch this much seafood without… ’  Too busy indulging in this much-needed meal, she never finishes the sentence.

Their glasses chime together with promises, and he, too, then sips freely at the champagne.  It breaks so smoothly over his tongue, Kleken releases a satisfied sigh when he lowers the cup.  And, it seems he isn’t the only one to enjoy the libation, glancing upon Indigo’s near-empty glass.

“Oh, do you wish to know me?  Well, I am a knight from a mystical land of shadows looking for a fairytale,”   he replies, spearing a crabcake with a fork and popping it into his mouth.  A lazy smile graces his mouth because it’s a terrible half-truth but all he can afford without bringing disservice to their meal.  

What good would it do to admit he’s a gangster?

“——Although, seafood without … what?  You didn’t finish.”   He gives voice to the question that hangs in the air after her unfinished statement instead, which should be considered not-so-unfinished.  Kleken forks another crabcake, and helpfully offers,   “Without abandon, without rules, or … without danger?  I wonder which is it.”

It’s a rhetorical statement because he can already shape a guess from their conversation by the pier and how perilous the sea is to Indigo.  His tentacles crowd idly beneath the table, except for one curious limb that now reaches for her ankles. 

“The deep sea offers many things: bounty, adventure, and monsters.  But, when the day it swallows everything arrives before us, we must also choose where we stand …”   Become fodder, a hero, or a monster?  But Indigo surely wouldn’t understand his run-around analogies; no one does.  So Kleken lifts the bottle of champagne and pours a hearty amount back into her glass instead.   

“Either way, this must be a rare opportunity for you.  So eat and drink to your heart’s content, my dear fairy.”

[octouso]

SEAWROUGHT​:

Wait. Deal? That easily, after Highmore’s entire list of asks? He’s either incredibly trusting of a stranger — no, certainly not. And despite the lack of seawater, there’s the oddest sensation, as if her foot got entangled in some seaweed. Not even Rhodes Island had handed Highmore a contract that easily, even after the Doctor’s insistence. And where’d Kleken get that pen and paper from, anyway? She’d watched his tentacles quite closely, and yet…

        ‘ Um. Well… ’  She runs a finger over some of the words of the contract, finding neither wet ink to smear nor the subtle indentations caused by the scratching of pen on paper.  ‘ Fake, huh… Figures. ’

 Honestly, she hadn’t expected this to be comparable to Rhodes Island’s paperwork but rather shadier and, of course, less favourable in terms. But if this entire thing isn’t real, what exactly are the terms of this arrangement, anyway?

        ‘ I see. You need the whole picture first, is that it? ’  She sighs, only reluctantly pointing towards the purple growths poking out from under her sleeve.  ‘ These, they… The more I fight and use certain… abilities, the more this tissue is bound to grow. I can rip off any bigger tentacles if I have to, but sometimes surgery is unavoidable. So, a doctor skilled in that area would be preferable… ’  Well, having to endure none of that would be best, but that’s an impossible hope, long discarded.

        ‘ Most importantly… that doctor must destroy any removed tissue. No research, no experiments and no turning it into snacks. ’  Well, maybe that last bit is a rather unlikely issue to arise here.  ‘ A-anyway, it must be destroyed right away. That’s the “care” my… condition requires. ’

Whoops, it appears that Highmore saw through the illusion too quickly.  Well, that’s fine—it may have happened sooner than anticipated, a different set of cards dealt from a hand, but it is no skin off Kleken’s tentacles.  Although he has to shake a strange chill from his shoulders at the prospect of this girl ripping out similar-like growths from her body.

“... Is that so?  You are a strong warrior to endure such hardship, and I’d hate to let you suffer under the public eye at the general hospital with that condition.  So, allow me to suggest someone who can meet your terms. ”

The detail of surgery brings to mind an icy assassin-former doctor with a penchant for cutting.  And, with instruction coming from the Shadowlord, surely Corax would be up for the task.  But, Kleken measures the knowledge for its worth, considers the necessary discussions that will likely occur, and figures that concern for a fellow sea creature just won’t make ends meet.

He promptly raises a hand to his head and dons a pained expression, feigning a lapse of memory.

“Dear me, it seems I’ve forgotten who … How sad.  I’m truly sorry.”   Kleken pins his attention onto the false document as the script skitters and rearranges across the page to reveal its true leverage:  an exchange of service(s) for hard labor.  Gone is the worry, replaced instantly by a wry smile.

“Please don’t misunderstand.  I do wish to help you, but perhaps you can help jog my memory——didn’t we agree upon something?”   Like, a deal that requires a signature of some sort before further information is shared?

[octouso]

PSEUDOMONARKAERENEA​:

For as much as it would be far more appropriate to utilize the power of the Origin Deck at a time like this, he reserves its use for more private spaces. To pacify a single guest is one thing, to pacify a crowd an entirely other beast–Those who gaze upon the Truth for far too long without having been enlightened as Victoria or Faust are; Such a thing would lead to madness, perhaps to an incurable level on par with that of the Theater’s.

Ah, but he can dwell upon those thoughts later–Though this deck most certainly possesses not the strength of the Origin Deck; It is powerful in its own right, a heavy and well-placed investment he had made when he had chanced upon it in an Umbraton antique shop this very trip. He would have to have Rainbow keep that store on record, for future reference in the event he ever needed such items again.

“There is no luck, only fate.”

Jeno speaks with the same theatrics he has adopted ever since this little impromptu stage came to me, but by the look in his eye–It doesn’t appear that he’s grandstanding. Though this is a mere sideshow, he takes his craft seriously.

“The Devil is a card that speaks of worldliness, of an individual who leads a materialistic life. One who lounges in a cage of luxury of their own making, and indulges in the physical pleasures that this world has to offer; Though the life of the Devil is a comfortable one, it is also one full of emptiness. No matter the amount of wealth, it never seems to quite fill that void.”

Paying little attention to the whispers he hears, Jeno fixes his singular gaze upon the Umbraton local.

“Tell me, good sir; Is this in any way correct?”

There is a non-committal sound made as the narrative ends with a genuine question.  Kleken thoughtfully drums a finger upon his chin, processing the revelation silently.  It’s not just correct;  it’s a near-perfect detail of how his days are squandered, seeking sources of entertainment to nurse a persistent boredom. 

It’s also why the octopus sits here right now.  But, his silence draws on for a beat too long, almost giving away too much.

“So the cards supposedly tell you clues about one’s lifestyle?  Interesting.”   Kleken peers over the gold rim of his rose-colored glasses, offering the ringmaster an amused look.   “You said ‘there is no luck, only fate’——but that can’t be right.  I’m sorry.  Are you certain this one is meant for me?”

With a languid twirl of his wrist, he gestures toward the blur of bodies and faces around them.  Though it is an amalgamation of different-minded individuals and factions, each has taken an interest in the display.  Kleken chuckles lightly.

“Perhaps, it belongs to a Lumopolis noble in this crowd.  That would feel appropriate, don’t you think?”   He asks, swiping imaginary specks of dust from his dark cloak.  A few gasps rise behind him, but it’s no news.  Most of Umbraton’s residents are far from the picture of wealth and luxury;  this is his hook.   “Or, perhaps your deck is incomplete.  Shall we draw another card to test that theory?”