Blacksmith
Tonight, we hunt Outsiders!
It was once said that darkness and cold went well together. But until that particular birth, nobody took into consideration the marriage of ice and sunlight. When the sun crept over the mountains, its light caressed the icicles and created a rainbow plethora of coloration. It turned a snowfield into a sea of blinding white and in circumstances where heat and cold would never have met, there you would find her dancing.
Princess Ilona, born of snow and winter air and sunlight dancing through the skies. As pretty as her mother, with the drive and enthusiasm of her father. Alone in a palace of ice, she lived and her dance as she woke up would have made the daughters of the rainbow bow their head in shame. But this is a fable and so, in that fable tradition she was locked away in a palace of crystal ice. It wasn't entirely lonely- For one, she was well protected by her friends and visitors. The Queen of Stormhold, the Star-bright royal and the God of Harvest and Wheat, who appeared in the great form of a She-Wolf. They had known Ilona's mother for some time and upon her death, took it upon themselves to raise her. So much for our princess.
Now let us dear readers, proceed to another place entirely.
Have you ever heard of the four-card monte? Better known as the shell game. Its a staple of hustlers and for these four rascals and rogues, it was perhaps the epitome of their numerous scams. See the gentleman walking down the street of this dirty town, like a blimp puffed with air and decorated with gold and silver. A perfect mark. A pretty girl with the bluest eyes approaches and asks politely for the time. Being a gentleman, he can hardly refuse a lady and removes from his pocket a timepiece of exquisite and expensive taste. Around this point, a well-dressed gentleman in white and a bowler hat cries out that his money pouch is missing. The first reaction of everyone is to check their pockets and so they are assured they are not targets.
Now comes the final part.
If you could watch from a rooftop, you would see a rather exquisite dance of which the partners had no idea they were a part of. If you could slow down time, you might notice the experienced, nimble fingers twitching out and snagging the pouches these people were so kind as to indicate earlier. He is a boy, of undetermined age. His eyes are as blue as the young lady from earlier and he bears a mark, in the shape of the little dipper on his forehead. Hidden only by his hair as he avoids the people. The gentleman with the bowler hails a cap, the horse pulls up and as he gets in, the girl and the boy likewise do so. And off they all go, the driver snickering as mismatched eyes of pink and brown peer out from beneath the brim of her hat.
And so no one discovers the shell and the house once more, Roman Torchwick laughing as Mabel Gleeful grins and crawls up onto his lap, one finger stroking along the con mans cheek.
"Another haul, another fine days work! And the watch into the bargain, that was a clever idea."
"But of course. You know no man alive can resist my charm."
The only one who appears to be less then enthusiastic is Dipper Gleeful, whose eyes now look like a storm as he looks down at the haul. Sensing his mood, Roman glances at his lover and she twitches an eyebrow in response. Roman sighs quietly and speaks.
"Look, lit-Dipper. I know, its been a great haul but its only temporary. We're going to hit it big eventually, minds like us. Its just a matter of time-"
"-Time is not something we have. Time will waste away and slip between our fingers, time will render us all old and twisted before we even get a fraction of what this world owes us. And here you two are, happy over pennies." He sneered and absently flicks a coin in Roman's direction, who looks somewhat worried now. His sister does too, Mabel glancing at Roman before sliding off and returning to his side with a smile.
"Dipper...Brother. Yes, its been a while since we ran away from the circus. From those people before we met Roman and Neo....But we will strike it big. Enough to become lords and ladies and buy whatever title we want."
"All of us-You know how it is. How we've done things, all these years."
"And in those years, have any of us ever struck it big?! No...Sister.....Idiot."
An affronted hey came from Roman's lips automatically, but he grew curious at the intensity in the eyes of Dipper Gleeful as he clenched his fists and spoke.
"If ever we're going to see that mansion? We're going to need something....More. The biggest haul we'll ever need, once and for all."
One should be wary how one says such things. You never know who could hear and it was a million-to-one chance that destiny would take note of these intrepid folk and take an interest.
Unfortunately for Dipper Gleeful's sanity and Roman's hat, million-to-one-chances crop up nine times out of ten.
Elsewhere, in the palace overlooking the grubby town a figure lurks. He reads the reports brought in by a line of clerks in black, like a spider whose lines feed it all the information he needs. Here, every whisper and rumor come to life and present itself to here. A good ruler strives to hear whatever occurs within their kingdom. For this ruler in particular, he feels such rulers lack ambition.
A dark clerk moves in and waits patiently. The ruler finally speaks.
"And?"
"Didn't even make it past the woods sir. Just as you predicted."
"Hmmph. Shame."
He rises and stares out at the city proper below. Its a rather nice view, if you could stomach the place but while it wasn't the most pretty or picturesque city, it was one that worked. It worked because he greased the wheels that allowed it to run and thus one of the day-to-day annoyances could be ticked over. But this latest business....He scoffed.
"What a curious business, don't you think? Here they are, the scions of the city proper. Heir's to rich and powerful families, who all go rushing out as soon as the tale of a princess in a crystal palace is told. Many die, but on the contrary! The story spreads and more flock in droves to die off in turn. Human nature is a curious thing."
"You have often said as much my lord."
The ruler sighed and shook his head sadly.
"Really, something will have to be done about this. I can't have these people all dying by the dozen."
The clerk looked puzzled briefly and the ruler amended his statement.
"Well, I can but their families...Their rich and powerful families, tend to cry out against such things. And then resentment is bred and people who would think nothing of running headlong into death traps suddenly turn that energy into other pursuits. No, we can't have this at all. So as the sword has failed...."
He turned back to his seat and smiled, pressing thin fingers in a temple as he peered at his clerk.
"Perhaps a corkscrew would do the job."
"My lord?"
The ruler shrugged and gave a thin smile.
"I believe its time. Bring out those arrest warrants for Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan and the Gleeful Twins."
He set out at once and the ruler sighed once more. The city, while one he would be content as to see burn despite his post was a responsibility to him and overall, he tolerated most things so long as the city ran. And if in dispatching the grease for those wheels, someone was crushed between the teeth, well....What a shame.
In the silent contemplating of others pain, his smile grew wider.
An hour later, in a quiet inn walked some guards. One of whom aimed and fired a crossbow bolt that snagged Roman's hat off his head and onto the wall.
"HEY!!"
"Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan and Mabel and Dipper Gleeful. You are all under arrest."
As one, all the thieves raised their hands.
Princess Ilona, born of snow and winter air and sunlight dancing through the skies. As pretty as her mother, with the drive and enthusiasm of her father. Alone in a palace of ice, she lived and her dance as she woke up would have made the daughters of the rainbow bow their head in shame. But this is a fable and so, in that fable tradition she was locked away in a palace of crystal ice. It wasn't entirely lonely- For one, she was well protected by her friends and visitors. The Queen of Stormhold, the Star-bright royal and the God of Harvest and Wheat, who appeared in the great form of a She-Wolf. They had known Ilona's mother for some time and upon her death, took it upon themselves to raise her. So much for our princess.
Now let us dear readers, proceed to another place entirely.
Have you ever heard of the four-card monte? Better known as the shell game. Its a staple of hustlers and for these four rascals and rogues, it was perhaps the epitome of their numerous scams. See the gentleman walking down the street of this dirty town, like a blimp puffed with air and decorated with gold and silver. A perfect mark. A pretty girl with the bluest eyes approaches and asks politely for the time. Being a gentleman, he can hardly refuse a lady and removes from his pocket a timepiece of exquisite and expensive taste. Around this point, a well-dressed gentleman in white and a bowler hat cries out that his money pouch is missing. The first reaction of everyone is to check their pockets and so they are assured they are not targets.
Now comes the final part.
If you could watch from a rooftop, you would see a rather exquisite dance of which the partners had no idea they were a part of. If you could slow down time, you might notice the experienced, nimble fingers twitching out and snagging the pouches these people were so kind as to indicate earlier. He is a boy, of undetermined age. His eyes are as blue as the young lady from earlier and he bears a mark, in the shape of the little dipper on his forehead. Hidden only by his hair as he avoids the people. The gentleman with the bowler hails a cap, the horse pulls up and as he gets in, the girl and the boy likewise do so. And off they all go, the driver snickering as mismatched eyes of pink and brown peer out from beneath the brim of her hat.
And so no one discovers the shell and the house once more, Roman Torchwick laughing as Mabel Gleeful grins and crawls up onto his lap, one finger stroking along the con mans cheek.
"Another haul, another fine days work! And the watch into the bargain, that was a clever idea."
"But of course. You know no man alive can resist my charm."
The only one who appears to be less then enthusiastic is Dipper Gleeful, whose eyes now look like a storm as he looks down at the haul. Sensing his mood, Roman glances at his lover and she twitches an eyebrow in response. Roman sighs quietly and speaks.
"Look, lit-Dipper. I know, its been a great haul but its only temporary. We're going to hit it big eventually, minds like us. Its just a matter of time-"
"-Time is not something we have. Time will waste away and slip between our fingers, time will render us all old and twisted before we even get a fraction of what this world owes us. And here you two are, happy over pennies." He sneered and absently flicks a coin in Roman's direction, who looks somewhat worried now. His sister does too, Mabel glancing at Roman before sliding off and returning to his side with a smile.
"Dipper...Brother. Yes, its been a while since we ran away from the circus. From those people before we met Roman and Neo....But we will strike it big. Enough to become lords and ladies and buy whatever title we want."
"All of us-You know how it is. How we've done things, all these years."
"And in those years, have any of us ever struck it big?! No...Sister.....Idiot."
An affronted hey came from Roman's lips automatically, but he grew curious at the intensity in the eyes of Dipper Gleeful as he clenched his fists and spoke.
"If ever we're going to see that mansion? We're going to need something....More. The biggest haul we'll ever need, once and for all."
One should be wary how one says such things. You never know who could hear and it was a million-to-one chance that destiny would take note of these intrepid folk and take an interest.
Unfortunately for Dipper Gleeful's sanity and Roman's hat, million-to-one-chances crop up nine times out of ten.
Elsewhere, in the palace overlooking the grubby town a figure lurks. He reads the reports brought in by a line of clerks in black, like a spider whose lines feed it all the information he needs. Here, every whisper and rumor come to life and present itself to here. A good ruler strives to hear whatever occurs within their kingdom. For this ruler in particular, he feels such rulers lack ambition.
A dark clerk moves in and waits patiently. The ruler finally speaks.
"And?"
"Didn't even make it past the woods sir. Just as you predicted."
"Hmmph. Shame."
He rises and stares out at the city proper below. Its a rather nice view, if you could stomach the place but while it wasn't the most pretty or picturesque city, it was one that worked. It worked because he greased the wheels that allowed it to run and thus one of the day-to-day annoyances could be ticked over. But this latest business....He scoffed.
"What a curious business, don't you think? Here they are, the scions of the city proper. Heir's to rich and powerful families, who all go rushing out as soon as the tale of a princess in a crystal palace is told. Many die, but on the contrary! The story spreads and more flock in droves to die off in turn. Human nature is a curious thing."
"You have often said as much my lord."
The ruler sighed and shook his head sadly.
"Really, something will have to be done about this. I can't have these people all dying by the dozen."
The clerk looked puzzled briefly and the ruler amended his statement.
"Well, I can but their families...Their rich and powerful families, tend to cry out against such things. And then resentment is bred and people who would think nothing of running headlong into death traps suddenly turn that energy into other pursuits. No, we can't have this at all. So as the sword has failed...."
He turned back to his seat and smiled, pressing thin fingers in a temple as he peered at his clerk.
"Perhaps a corkscrew would do the job."
"My lord?"
The ruler shrugged and gave a thin smile.
"I believe its time. Bring out those arrest warrants for Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan and the Gleeful Twins."
He set out at once and the ruler sighed once more. The city, while one he would be content as to see burn despite his post was a responsibility to him and overall, he tolerated most things so long as the city ran. And if in dispatching the grease for those wheels, someone was crushed between the teeth, well....What a shame.
In the silent contemplating of others pain, his smile grew wider.
An hour later, in a quiet inn walked some guards. One of whom aimed and fired a crossbow bolt that snagged Roman's hat off his head and onto the wall.
"HEY!!"
"Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan and Mabel and Dipper Gleeful. You are all under arrest."
As one, all the thieves raised their hands.