2nd Mark [Audio // English]

[oneeveryminute]

Nice costumes.  Miss the comic convention?  I wouldn' wanna be on the judging panel.  That bloke in the seven foot tall green suit's a downright winner.

[Locked to Belle]

Keep yer Saturday free, babe.

[Locked to Janelle]

I never got your number.

[Locked to Ace]

Checked out your marks.  I'm thinkin' easy money.  You got something in mind?

Comments

[Locked to Ace]

[oneeveryminute]

Not unless I'm really drunk, mate.

[Hint get. He's at the Kumo Ko twenty minutes later after checking the map. And ... there are bears. What.]

[oneeveryminute]

[It's a winning smile. A good smile, strong chatter, balls of steel and sleight of hand; it's all you needed for a good monte. Well, that and a dozy mark, but those were a dime a dozen.

Sliding into the booth opposite the other man, Russ watches the bears with unease.]

Bloody well trained. They haven't mauled anyone, have they?

[... okay he could swear one of the bears just gave him an indignant look and slapped the chopsticks down in front of him harder than necessary.]

That's novel.

[Understatement of the year.]

[oneeveryminute]

[Russ rubs his face, then runs a hand through his hair.]

Fuck this is some goddamn voodoo shit right here.

[oneeveryminute]

Zombies.

[There might be something weird going on here, but clearly Russ isn't buying that one. Leaning back and folding his arms as a bear sets down a bottle of Japanese beer and a glass in front of him, he smirks at Ace.]

You're on.

[oneeveryminute]

[Russ shoots him an unimpressed look and opens his mouth to retort at the "little girl" comment, but then there's a flurry of images blurring past. Except they're not just images, they feel real. He can feel the heat from the flames, smell the dew on the forest grass, hear the echo of his own breath in the caves. Those costumed passengers, a field of flowers, straight through the boat in a whirl of activities.

And suddenly it stops and they're in some dark, stagnant place. Overcast and sulfurous, and there are screams and moans. The metallic tang of blood hangs in the air and Russ takes a short, sharp breath, covering his mouth in disgust, eyes wide.]

What ... fuck ...

[oneeveryminute]

[Somewhere in the background, a bear roars, then howls in pain.]

What're y--

[The ground gives way beneath his feet and Russell is falling so fast he can't even catch his breath. And then Ace is cocking a hat at him and he's in a ... room? Then back at the restaurant, and he's gripping the table wondering if any of that really happened.

Running a shaky hand through his hand, Russ pats his chest, almost checking he's still really there. His fingers fall on the bulk of his cigarette pack in his pocket, and he pulls it out.]

Kidnapped? Listen mate, I dunno what you're playing at, but this is fuckin' weird.

[Shaking out a cigarette, he lights it with trembling fingers -- fuck, he was less rattled running long cons than he is right now -- and takes a long drag, resting the heel of his hand againt his forehead. Motherfucker, what the hell wasthat?]

[oneeveryminute]

[Tilting his head to look over at Ace -- was he for real? -- Russell grunted and reached over for the beer, eschewing the glass in preference for a pull straight from the bottle.]

Heard of it. 'Bout violins or something, right?

[He shakes his head at an inquisitive bear. He's lost his appetite.]

[oneeveryminute]

[It goes straight over Russell's head. But Ace's words are intriguing, and he waves a hand to clear the cloud of smoke.]

Money ain't the point, is it?

[For him, it's the thrill of the game, but he suspects it's something a lot more for Ace. And frankly after that little nightmare vision, he's less inclined to disagree. For now, anyway.]