Chapter Text
Branzy hit the ground with a splash and a groan of pain. He hears laughter from above him where Zam had pushed him off the roof and into the muddy street. Joke was on him though, since Branzy had managed to snag a bracelet off him in their scuffle that would sell for a lot.
He lay there, in the muddy street water, catching his breath as the people on the roof walked away. A face came into view directly above him. A man with dark hair that stopped a little before his shoulders and grey eyes that looked very unimpressed.
“Are you Branzy?”
“Depends on who’s asking.” Branzy responded cheerfully, even though he is slightly embarrassed about the position he’s in as he stands up.
“Clownpierce. I was told by Lady Ivory that you’re good with redstone and enchantments.” The man, Clownpierce, the Clownpierce, is standing in front of him. He was infamous within the black market, and ran a casino that was known for scamming people out of their wealth.
“Uh- Yep, I’m Branzy! I can—“
Clown cut him off. “Great, come to my casino tomorrow morning.” With that he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving a confused Branzy behind.
—
At 6:30 the next morning, Branzy is standing outside a casino staring up at a jester face underneath the slowly brightening overcast sky, because he wasn’t told what time to be there, just “morning”.
He tugged on his sleeves, making sure they were securely covering his arms, took a deep breath, and pushed on the glass door. It didn’t move. He guessed it was locked.
Branzy was about to turn around and come back later when the door swung open. There stood Clownpierce, in the jester costume that was the signature of the casino, mask grinning down at him.
“It’s a pull door.”
“Oh.” That was probably not a great first impression, especially on top of their meeting yesterday.
Clown stepped aside motioning for Branzy to enter, so with another deep breath he stepped into the casino.
Branzy had never been in a casino before, and it was surprisingly nice. The walls and floor were spruce wood, making the place seem warm. As the two of them walked through the halls, Branzy following Clown, he saw slot machines and card tables and a few bars, but only a few people here and there, mainly the cleaning staff.
“I thought this place was open all the time,” Branzy wonders aloud, shutting up immediately when Clown looks at him.
“It’s open from noon until around four in the morning.” Clown led him through a door marked “Staff Only” and into an office.
It was a nice office, in Branzy’s opinion, with a big desk and bookshelves behind it. On the top of one shelf, he noted, there was a violin. Huh. He didn’t take Clown for the type of guy to play an instrument.
Clown motioned to the chairs on one side of the desk, and Branzy sat down while the other man rummaged through a drawer. He pulled up a few rolls of paper and dropped them on the desk, and then reaching up he unclipped the porcelain mask and tugged the jester hat off, placing them on the edge of the desk. Branzy watched as Clown ran a hand through his dark hair, intrigued.
He knew that the other man didn’t always conceal his face, in a business like this it was kind of inconvenient, but he also knew that he didn’t show his face everywhere, often wearing that creepy mask.
Branzy looked down quickly when Clown glanced at him, realizing he was staring.
“So,” Clown leans over the desk, unrolling the blueprints. “Ivory recommended you, and I’m going to trust her on this. However, if you decide to double cross me, or steal, or step out of line at all, I will not hesitate to kill you. Is that understood?”
Branzy nodded, too stunned to speak.
“Good.” Clown then pushed the blueprints forwards. “I’ve been looking to expand my casino, these are designs for a funhouse.” Branzy pulls them closer to examine what looked more like a death trap. It looked normal up until the fake floor and big pit with spinning walls. How someone would be stupid enough to go through any funhouse that had Clownpierce’s name on it was beyond him, but he guessed it wasn’t his problem.
“Can you do it?” Clown is looking at him with an unreadable expression.
“I mean- yeah, it’s possible,” Branzy takes a breath, mentally bracing his nerves. “But what’s in it for me? Like payment-wise.”
Clown frowns slightly, but just shrugs. “I’d probably let you keep some of the hearts.”
Branzy’s eyes widened, and he glanced down at the blueprints again. Clown was planning on using an enchanted weapon to steal the hearts of all the participants of this funhouse. It was tempting. Branzy only had eight hearts on his right arm, eight lives. He had lost one to a fatal misstep on a job, and another to the Guild when he left.
“You have a weapon?” The only way to get someone’s heart was if they either gave it voluntarily, which no one did anymore, or to kill someone with a weapon with the right enchantments, which were incredibly illegal if you weren’t a Guild member.
“Yes.” Clown leaned down and grabbed a scythe that had been laying on the floor, (why was it on the floor?) holding it up. The dark blade shimmered with obvious enchantments, and made Clownpierce a lot more intimidating. “Will you do it?”
Branzy glanced down at the blueprints again and sighed. He was probably going to regret this. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll do it.”
“Great.” Clown nodded, leaning the scythe in the corner of the room. “Also,” He begins hesitantly. “If you could look at some of the redstone for the casino machines…” He trailed off seemingly unhappy with the admission.
“Oh, yeah, I can do that too.” Branzy nods quickly, it probably was best to stay on this man's good side. “Anything else?”
Clown pauses for a moment. “Yes, actually.” He turns and opens another drawer, and pulls out a book. An enchanted book. Branzy’s eyes widened. “I was told that you are good at enchanting.” He phrased it like a question.
“I..” Branzy thinks of his left arm. “I can enchant.” He nods.
“Prove it.” Clown flicks his wrist, and then he is holding a small silver dagger, which he sets down on the book, and pushes towards Branzy. “Enchant that.”
Branzy grabs the book and knife, setting the latter down and opening the book. He flipped through it. It was for life-stealing. “Anything specific in mind?”
Clown shook his head, laying out a shard of obsidian on the desk. “Just something to get the job done.”
Branzy hummed in acknowledgment, deciding on a simple yet effective enchantment that was easy to conceal. He instinctively went to roll up his sleeves, he kept them out of the way when he worked, but he froze. Branzy didn’t know if he wanted Clown to see how many hearts he had, but at the look that the taller man was giving him he hesitantly pushed the fabric to right before his elbows, pointedly ignoring Clown’s gaze.
Taking a breath, Branzy picked up the obsidian in his left hand and placed the other on the hilt of the dagger, steadying it. As he placed the tip of the shard on the metal blade, he could feel his arm start to hum, lines glowing as he dragged the point down, carving in the first rune.
Clown just watched in silence as Branzy enchanted, the magic flowing through him. When he finished, he glanced up, presenting the weapon.
Clown took the dagger, examining the runes. He twirled it in his hand, looking mildly impressed, and slipped the weapon back into his sleeve. Branzy absentmindedly wondered how he didn’t cut himself.
“Your arm,” Clown gestures to Branzy’s left arm, which still has its sleeve rolled up. “It was glowing.” His voice took on a tone that the other man couldn’t exactly place.
Branzy nodded. “Uh, yeah it does that with, um, magic things.” He internally cursed himself for the stupid word choice.
“Did you enchant yourself?”
“What? No!” Branzy lied. “I’m not an idiot. Everyone knows that’s a one way ticket to death. These are just protection and runes that help with enchanting.” He lifted his arm and traced patterns out of the mess of lines.
Clown visibly relaxed, briefly examining the other man’s arm before glancing at a clock on the wall. “Alright, you work on that, I have something to attend to. I’ll be back in about an hour.” He grabbed his mask and hat.
“Hey- uh,” Clown paused, turning from the door frame. “Who is this for?”
“It shouldn’t be much of your concern,” The taller man paused, considering. “But, Zam is on my list.” With that he was gone.
Branzy sighed, grabbing a pencil off the desk and the blueprints. Hearing that Zam, the proclaimed “Prince of the Guild” wasn’t exactly a surprise. Even though the Guild members were the only ones legally allowed to use magic and enchant, they still did a lot of black market deals, and the biggest players, like Zam or Vitalsay, could rack up a lot of names on their enemy list.
Not that Branzy wouldn’t mind seeing Zam fall into a pit with Clownpierce waiting at the bottom, but it made him a bit worried. If Zam had a target on his back, it was possible Vitalasy did too. Vitalasy wasn’t the nicest person, but he was one of the only people who was nice to Branzy after he “left” the Guild, and in this business, nice people were hard to come by.
Branzy rubbed his eyes, sighing. It wasn’t his problem. One of the fastest ways to lose money and hearts in the underground market is by asking questions. All he had to do right now was make sure this death trap of a machine worked.
It didn’t actually look too difficult. The redstone might be a bit complex, but the overall design was kind of simple, something Branzy knew he could do.
Branzy sighed again, what had he gotten himself into?
—
A rap on the door startled Branzy out of his work, where he had almost finished. Looking up, he saw Clownpierce, mask on again. Glancing at the clock, he realized what had felt like fifteen minutes had actually been over an hour.
“You finished?” Clown walked over to the desk to examine Branzy’s progress.
“Almost. Just need to finalize the material list.” The shorter man leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “Uh, do you have any water?”
“Hm?” Clown ran a gloved finger over a paragraph referring to the rotating walls. “Oh, yes. Come with me.” He grabbed the blueprints and headed for the door. Branzy stood up, his head spinning a bit and back protesting after having sat hunched over for so long.
He glanced around the casino as he followed the taller man through it, examining the slot machines they passed, until they reached a bar. Clown set the blueprints down on the counter and reached over to grab a glass. Branzy hesitantly sat down, grabbing the papers to go over his redstone calculations one more time, writing down a supply list on the side.
Clown slid the glass of water over to him, and Branzy passed him the paper with the supplies. “This should be what you need for it.” He grabbed the glass and drank it greedily.
The taller man just hummed in acknowledgment, scanning the list. “Have you eaten yet today?”
“Huh?” Branzy was thrown off by the question. He frowned. Why would Clownpierce be asking him that? “No, why?”
“We need to get these supplies, and I was thinking about grabbing food on the way.” Clown rolled up the blueprints, tucking them under his arm, and turning to a confused Branzy. “What, did you think you were only going to be doing the blueprints?”
“I- Well, you made it seem like that.” The shorter man replied, feeling embarrassed. He hopped off the stool to follow Clown, who was heading out of the room and into an area that was blocked off and labeled “Staff Only”. Branzy guessed he was technically part of the staff now.
“This is where the entrance to the funhouse will be.” Clown gestures to the doors, letting Branzy poke his head in and examine the space. “The one problem I have with your designs is that the redstone might interfere with the redstone for the roulette wheel.”
“What roulette wheel?” He didn’t see any in this room.
Clown sighed, turning and leading him to a set of locked doors, which he produced a key from some hidden pocket. “I don’t have the pit dug yet, but it would end up near this room.” He pushed open the doors and led Branzy down some stairs and into a small lounge area with a balcony overlooking a huge roulette wheel.
Branzy’s eyes widened as he looked over the railing at the thing. It was currently dark and motionless, but it looked magnificent nonetheless. He turned to Clown hesitantly. “Can I see the redstone?”
The taller man nods, turning to lead him back to the hallway, locking the doors, and then through the maze that was his casino until they reached another “Staff Only” door, this one that opened to a stairwell that had stone and concrete walls instead of ones paneled with wood.
After descending the stairs, Branzy was led through more hallways, until they reached an open space that was covered in sprawling redstone. Glancing up, he could see they were underneath the wheel.
Taking a look around, examining the repeaters and the observers, he turned to Clown. “This can definitely be compacted and made more efficient.”
“Good.” Clown pointed to a space to the right of the mess of redstone. “That’s approximately where the funhouse pit will be.”
Branzy nodded, making rough estimates in his head. “Yeah, yeah, I can work with that.”
“Great, that’s great.” Clown gazed at the redstone for a moment longer. “Alright, let's go get the supplies.”
—
Branzy followed Clown into a store, feeling a bit lost from the taller man’s attitude. First he was threatening him, then hiring him, then touring him through the behind the scenes of his casino, and now they were on a shopping trip. How did he even end up in this situation?
Clown had gone to talk to someone in the back, probably to cash in some favour or make a deal, leaving Branzy to hang back and wait. The taller man had changed out of his jester costume, instead wearing some nice shirt and this black trench coat that made him look super intimidating, and as much as Branzy was embarrassed to admit it, super good.
Sighing, he wandered the shelves, poking at a piston or comparator here or there, examining the higher brand models. Just because Branzy found his new employer (although it seemed a bit more like indentured servitude) slightly attractive didn’t mean he was actually attracted to him. It was also possible it was just intimidation. Besides, whether or not his feelings for the other man, his biggest concern should be how to get out of this deal as alive as possible. If he stuck with Clownpierce he might have some protection against the law, but the longer he hangs around him, the chance of him being betrayed gets higher. Also, openly working with Clown would definitely get him a few more enemies, which he did not need, but it could potentially make him some allies, and if he trusted him, hearts.
A tapping sound jerked Branzy out of his thoughts. He turned to find Clown, tapping the tip of an umbrella against the ground.
“Did you get the stuff?” The only thing the taller man seemed to have gained was an umbrella.
Clown nodded. “Four shulker boxes, with everything we need, to be delivered to the casino by the end of the day.” He glanced at Branzy, who’s eyes had widened in astonishment as they headed out. “What?”
“Four shulker boxes?” He exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Clown had a small grin on his face. “What about it?”
“Four,” Branzy muttered in amazement. Shulker boxes were hard to get, or at least they were for people like him. “You must have made some deal with a devil to get those.”
“I do deal with the devil on occasion.” Clown replied with a smirk.
“Is he scared of you too?” The question comes out without a thought, and for a second Branzy wonders if he messed up.
But Clown just responded naturally. “Let’s just say those deals normally end in my favor.” He glanced at Branzy.
The shorter man just hums in acknowledgment. After a second, he turned back to Clown. “What’s with the umbrella?”
“It might rain.” He stated simply. “I’m not in the mood to get wet.” Clown glanced up at the sky. “C‘mon, let’s get some food.”
—
Branzy was now sitting across from Clownpierce in the booth of a small cafe. It was oddly humanizing. He’d always thought the other man was a merciless killer, who could do any job, that was how most of the stories would paint him. But now there was just a man sitting across from him drinking coffee, who looked incredibly normal.
Branzy was munching on an oatmeal-raisin cookie and had ordered a hot chocolate to drink, even if it had cost him a strange glance from Clown. He had tried to pay for his own food, but the other man hadn’t let him, just waved his hand and said it was covered in his job contract. Branzy did not remember signing any contracts.
“Don’t you have food at the casino?” He asked out of curiosity.
Clown nodded. “There’s food for the guests, as well as the staff, but I prefer to get my own if I have time.”
“What other employee benefits are there? For working at your casino?”
“What, are you thinking of getting a job there?” Clown smirked slightly. Branzy just looked confused.
“Don’t I already work there?”
“You work for me. There’s a bit of a difference.”
“Why’d you hire me so fast?” Branzy took a bite of his cookie when another thought struck him.“How did you hire me so fast?” It was directed more towards himself, since he was being threatened by the man sitting across from him over an hour ago, and now he was getting coffee with him.
“Ivory recommended you, and she doesn’t normally do that. And if she trusts you, I’m open to hiring you, so it was more a matter of seeing if you could actually do anything, rather than testing your loyalty.” Clown explained watching the window next to them, where it had started raining. “However, I did test your loyalty.” He hid a smile behind a sip of his coffee.
“What? When?” Branzy didn’t remember anything resembling a loyalty test, unless it was just “following orders” or whatever.
“I left you in my office, by yourself, with a weapon. Most people would at least go through the desk.”
“Oh.” Branzy knew there was probably a camera in that office, but the thought of stealing from Clownpierce seemed like a terrible idea. “It never really crossed my mind?” It sounded like a question.
Clown let out a small huff of laughter, his tone teasing. “Some thief you are.”
“Wh- Hey!” Branzy exclaimed in mock-offense. “I’ll have you know I am an amazing thief. One of the best in this city!” Clown just raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. “I once was able to scam an entire party only using chickens.”
Clown laughed at that, surprising Branzy. “That was you?” He nodded. “Ivory told me all about it, she said it was really funny.”
“It was.” Branzy grinned. There was a beat of silence between them. “How do you know Ivory?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that question. You’ve basically been interrogating me this whole time.” Clown seemed much more at ease.
Branzy was quiet for a moment. The way he’d met Ivory was not a memory he liked to relive, and it certainly wasn’t something he was comfortable telling Clown. “She kind of saved my life. One of her big prison break things. I taught her some redstone in return, and we’ve been in and out of touch ever since.” He shrugged. It was a very brief summary of the story.
Clown tilted his head slightly, immediately picking up on Branzy’s withholding of information. “I also met her through a prison break. Oddly enough, I’ve met quite a few allies through breaking into prisons.”
“Really? What happened?” Branzy leaned forward, interested in steering the conversation in a different direction.
Clown leaned back. “That’s a story for another time.” The message was clear: if Branzy wasn’t going to say the full truth, Clown wasn’t either. “Finish your drink, we need to go. The casino will be open by the time we get back, and I don’t want it to be too crowded.”
Branzy quickly emptied the cup, getting up to follow Clown. “You don’t need to be there for it to open?” He tossed his cup in the trash.
Clown turned from the door and looked at him. “I don’t. That would be incredibly inefficient.” He opened his umbrella and stepped out the door. Branzy just stared, mind racing.
“C’mon we’re going.” Branzy didn’t move. He didn’t want to get wet. Clown sighed, reached over and grabbed the shorter man by the arm, tugging him towards him.
Branzy yelped as his arm was linked with Clown’s, and he was dragged down the street, rain pounding on the umbrella above their heads. “Why are you so warm?” Standing right next to the taller man, Branzy could feel warmth through his jacket.
“Nether origins. It just means I have a higher body temperature.”
Branzy knew a little bit about other dimension genes' side effects. “And higher potion tolerance?”
Clown looked at him curiously. “Yes, that too. What about you?”
“Huh?” Branzy was going to try to keep as much of his information as possible out of the hands of Clownpierce.
“You‘re obviously not fully human. You seem like a natural at enchanting, which normally requires at least a decade of practice, and your hair and eyes. They’re not natural colors.”
Branzy shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’d guess that some of my ancestors were from the End. The only ‘benefits’ I seem to have gotten were being good at magic, and my hair and eye color.”
Clown let out a hum of acknowledgement, seemingly contemplating. “Well,” he said, glancing at Branzy. “I guess I’ll have to keep you around then.”
“What?”
“I have big plans, Branzy,” Clown laughed slightly. “And you just might be useful.”
“What kind of plans?” Information would be nice, but he was also pretty curious.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Clown grinned. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Branzy quieted then, leaving the rest of the walk in silence, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.
—
“Pass me a repeater?” Branzy asked, holding out a redstone-stained hand for the piece of machinery. Clown handed it over, having removed his gloves when they started working.
The casino owner had instructed Branzy to get started with compacting the circuitry for the roulette wheel, which he had done so. It was alright, the wheel was functional, but whoever had done this was more focused on just making it work rather than efficiency. But, when Branzy was done with it, this machine would be the best in the casino. He just hoped he got paid well.
Clown had left him alone for the most part, only stopping by every hour or so to see if Branzy needed anything. If he had to guess, he thought it was around four in the afternoon, meaning he’d spent about six hours working on rewiring this thing, but it was almost done.
“Wow,” Branzy laughed as he hooked up the levers. “This is so incredibly rigged. Why would anyone think betting on this thing is a good idea?”
“Well, you know what they say about casinos,” Clown examines Branzy’s work. He'd decided to stay this time and listen to the shorter man explain the mechanisms. “Never bet against the house, because the house always wins.”
Branzy shook his head. “You’d have to be an idiot to bet your life on a goddamn roulette wheel, especially one at your casino.”
Clown hums in agreement. “Yes, and luckily, there might be a group of idiots coming tonight who are willing to bet money and multiple lives here.” He pulls a comparator from the stack of discarded parts. “Maybe you’ll get one.”
“Really?” Branzy glanced down at Clown, surprised.
“Yeah, it’ll be part of your payment.” The taller man shrugged. “Besides, I’m almost at twenty.”
“You’re almost at twenty?” Branzy exclaimed. It was rare for anyone to get to twenty hearts, especially if they weren’t a part of the Guild.
“What are you at?”
“Definitely less than twenty.” He wasn’t giving away his heart count that easily.
Clown hummed, thinking. “I’m going to guess you’re at eleven hearts.”
Branzy laughed. He was eight, but if someone thought he had three extra, he wouldn’t complain. “Yeah, sure, I have eleven.”
“So you don’t have eleven.” Clown tilted his head to the side, as if that would help him figure Branzy out. “Hm.”
“Who knows?” He grinned.
The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a bit, until Branzy exclaimed “Done!” and carefully hopped down the machine.
“That should work, if everything’s correct.” Branzy rubbed his hands together, but they were thoroughly coated in red dust.
“Alright,” Clown pulled dark silk gloves out of his pocket and slipped them on. “Let’s go test it.”
Branzy nervously followed the taller man through the back halls of the casino to a balcony overlooking the roulette wheel, opposite from the one he had been on the first time he came here. This balcony had a simple control panel with about eight levers, four with the color red above them and four with the color black.
“So, Branzy,” Clown presses a button on the control panel that causes the wheel to start spinning, the lights mesmerizing. “Do you want to place a bet?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Branzy laughed. “Besides, I don’t have anything to bet.”
“You have your hearts.” Clown leaned against the balcony railing.
“Nope, not doing that. Gambling is bad enough with money, let alone with your lives.”
“Okay, but if you were going to gamble, which color would you bet on?”
Branzy thought for a moment. “Red.”
Clown nodded, then motioned for him to watch the wheel, and flicked one of the levers above a black square.
The lights swirled and spun, eventually stopping on black. Clown laughed. “Oh well, better luck next time.”
Branzy shook his head. “Rigged.”
Clown looked like he was about to respond, when the two of them heard shouting from above. The taller man sighed, dragging a hand over his mask. “I have to deal with whatever that is. You can head home, just be back tomorrow and the materials for the funhouse should be here.”
Branzy nodded, suddenly self-conscious of his redstone covered clothes and hit with sudden exhaustion from his rollercoaster of a day.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.”
—
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Clown shoved a piston into place. “What conflict do you have with Zam?”
Branzy had shown up to the casino at the same time every morning for the past few days, (making sure to open the door each time) and the two of them had been working on the funhouse since. “Who says I have conflict with Zam?”
“I mean, I saw him push you off a roof the first time we met.”
Branzy rolled his eyes. “He does that to everyone.”
Clown let out a huff of laughter, but still glanced at Branzy expectantly. The taller man was wearing the jester costume, but he had taken off the mask and gloves to make work easier.
Branzy sighed. “If you didn’t notice, I have a tendency to run my mouth in stressful situations. I forget to think before I speak. Which usually leads to even worse situations. With Zam, I accidentally insulted him.” He shrugged. “Honestly, that’s surprisingly easy to do.”
“How do you feel about the fact that he’s going to lose a life?” Clown climbed down from the top of the piston line, making sure not to accidentally mess anything up.
“Oh, he deserves it. He’s an arrogant bastard, I’m sure taking him down a few pegs won’t hurt.” Branzy glanced up from the observers, making sure not to set them off as he stood up.
“Is that everything?” Clown asked, gesturing to the funhouse pit walls.
Branzy nodded. “I’ll connect these lines, and then start it up. I can stay down here in case anything goes wrong.”
Clown grabbed the key for the machine and headed up to the entrance of the funhouse, while Branzy placed down the final repeater and sat back, waiting for it to turn on. After a moment, he saw the redstone light up, and circus music started playing, quickly drowned out by the whirl of pistons. He grinned as the walls in front of him started to move.
Cheering, he ran to the stairs, racing up to find Clown standing at the entrance, grinning as well. “It works!” Branzy exclaimed. The two of them walked through the funhouse, admiring the spinning walls.
“Well Branzy,” Clown siad, turning to him, still smiling. “I’d like to formally welcome you to The Funhouse.”