Chapter Text
Kremy LeCroux was a charming young man, that was true. You couldn’t deny his air of confidence and sweet words that dripped from the gator’s mouth like thick honey or fruit nectar. But, there was also something amiss- if you looked just a bit closer you would see his clothes were secondhand, his shoes were scuffed and slightly too big, his hands had burns from working in a kitchen, and his scutes and scales were dull. He was not rich or regal- unlike one such as Remy Garou- he was not what he presented himself to be. An ill fitting facade worn easily, as only those who were actually of that status could notice. The bottom feeding scum- the easy targets- would not. And if Kremy’s targets were bottom feeding scum, what did that make him? He preferred to not dwell on the unimportant…
Gideon Coal, on the other hand, did not place himself under any mask. “Rugged” would not be exactly the right word to describe him, though underneath the dirt and grime was a very handsome face. He was covered in said grime- scraping his way from his former “place” to the slums of Agwé- and he looked angry, overly cautious and paranoid, like a madman. But he was strong, as evidenced by the manacles and chains that he dragged by his side, his muscles tensed with every movement he would take. Mixed emotions came from most people who saw him, but he did not hide who he was or where he came from, and he did not care. Every step he took was full of a fiery rage and a hunger that he needed satiated, lest it consume him whole.
Of course, in Agwé, these two were amidst many. Folks passing by could not bring themselves to truly care about a lizardfolk or a fire genasi unless they were in their way.
—
Agwé was unfamiliar territory to Gideon, having just arrived earlier that week, and he turned every corner that night with vigilance. He was starving- literally, he hadn’t eaten since the last town- and his size made others in the alleyways and streets uneasy. Which was pretty fair, considering that if they had any food, he probably would’ve taken it from them. But as his stomach growled, two big looking guys had decided to block the way in front of him.
He made quick work of the two, whipping chains around and knocking them down as easily as bowling pins. It was a stupid move to try and mess with a hungry man, and they clearly thought the hungry and the manacles would at least slow him down. Blood splattered the walls and ground in the alley, and coated Gideon’s hands. Of course, the two men weren’t dead, but they sure were konked the fuck out. He only quickly glanced back down at them before turning his back and sulking out back onto the street.
Out of desperation, Gideon picked up his pace, looking around at every building to find somewhere he might be able to squeeze a meal, whether that be stealing it or otherwise. What popped out was a sleazy looking casino, and though he wasn’t sure if he found himself a gambling kind of man, he figured it’d be easy to swipe
something,
maybe even some booze or a cigarette. It didn’t seem like they had any strict rules as to who could enter, so there wasn’t a concern about his muddy boots or his filthy and sooty shirt. So, into the
Hungry Catfish
the hungry Gideon went.
Gods, the lights were bright. Stepping in from the dark night to the colorful strobing lights of the
Hungry Catfish
gave Gideon major whiplash and he instinctively covered his face with his arms until his eyes adjusted. After the initial shock, he took in the surroundings- the casino, appropriately, was filled to the brim with gambling tables, card games, slot machines, and the smell of sweaty patrons waiting in suspense for their one-in-a-million chance to win permeating the air. It was packed, but server girls weaved their way through the crowds of people to pass out drinks to tables. Blinking away his wandering eyes, he decided to head over towards a poker table.
The dealer at the table was a skinny crocodilian man, wearing a button up, pinstripe vest adorned with a patterned cravat, and a smudged, poorly drawn mustache above his toothy smiling mouth. He shuffled the cards, ending it with a flashy spring flourish, moving them from one hand to the other.
“How much to play?” Gideon asked as he approached.
—
It was a long shift at the
Hungry Catfish
and honestly, Kremy was ready to call in for the day. He’d been up since 9am that morning, heading to work at 4pm, making it currently 2am, and he just had a couple more hours to go before he could metaphorically toss in the hat and go sleep until his next shift. But, of course, this hard work would all be worth it when he could strut down the street with a fancy cane, silk tophat, shining shoes, and-
A hulking fire genasi man had come over to his table. He was covered in all sorts of dirt and muck, and he looked rough and tough. His pants were of a jean fabric and his cut up sleeveless shirt stretched over his chest. Around his forearms were large, metal manacles that thick metal chains hung from. His hair was a greasy and messy mullet, and his attempt at a beard was patchy and scruffy. His eyes were so intense, despite his clear weakness- Kremy grew up poor (and technically still was), he knew what hunger looked like. But, the man’s unwavering eyes had sent Kremy into a short bout of shock as a shiver ran down his spine to the tip of his tail.
“How much to play?” the man had asked.
“For you, my friend,” Kremy started to reply, regaining his smile, “first round is on the house. Take a seat, Sir.” He doubted the man had five silver pieces on him, let alone any copper.
The fire genasi shuffled into place awkwardly, all the while looking at Kremy as he took the silver from his own pocket and tossed it into the pile.
Kremy called over a server, flipping a quick coin to her, saying “A whiskey for our fine friend here, yes?”
And so the rounds went. He was feeling… Unnaturally generous that night, it seems, as he went out of his way to maneuver the odds in the genasi’s favor, slipping cards up his sleeves and other such tricks. Mr. Garou wouldn’t care, probably. Plus, if this guy gets to clean himself up, he might be a recurring customer. Who knew gambling could save so many lives, right? As Kremy slipped the newcomer a few wins here and there, the other folks at the table only seemed to get frustrated, but fortunately gamblers being gamblers, they did not stop until they had a few wins under the belt. Eventually, the others cleared from the table, heading towards a different game or to get more drinks, leaving Kremy and the scruffy man at the table.
As the man stood to leave, Kremy bid him a “Good night, Sir! Hope to see you back soon!”, to which the man grunted and dragged himself out the door.
And soon, his shift at the
Hungry Catfish
was over, and Kremy was out the door, welcoming the cool, fresh 4am breeze. He was confident Mr. Garou would promote him to pit boss if he just worked a little bit harder. So he walked quickly, putting on his jacket and getting ahold of his wooden cane, heading for his place of residence. That was until some familiar faces stopped his path- the group of gamblers that were at his table.
“Why, hello there fellas. The casino’s still open, I’m just headin’ home,” Kremy said, trying to pass around the guys, before being stopped by an outstretched arm from one of the men.
“Yeah, sure, but before you go, you wanna tell us why you’re runnin’ some sorta scam? Coulda made hundreds of gold if you didn’t cheat us.” The talking man’s breath reeked of alcohol, and Kremy did his best not to breathe it in.
With the belief there wasn’t a situation he couldn’t talk his way out of, Kremy chose his words carefully. “Cheat you? Why, I never! I’m an honorable employee of the
Hungry Catfish,
good sir, we do not ‘scam’ our patrons. The casino is completely luck based!”
“Until some fuckface meddles with the game!”
“Listen, I’ll cut you a deal.” He decided to employ a technique he usually used in more serious situations, making a motion with his hand and summoning a magical scroll. This was new to him still, but he really wanted to go home. “We’ll sign this little contract and I’ll be sure you get free drinks for a week. Do be sure to sign with a binding substance- blood, of course.”
“You’re a sonuvabitch!”
A punch square in the maw was not something on his list of things that would happen that day, but Kremy found himself stumbling backwards into a wall, holding his jaw. He narrowed his eyes up at the group of men.
“Now, fellas, I think this is a misunderstandin’. It ain’t my fault if you’ve got terrible luck in casinos after gamblin’ off your wife’s life insurance and children’s college funds. That’s entirely on you, right? So how about you turn yourselves around and head home to face your crumblin’ lives?”
The next fist that came his way Kremy managed to dodge, though barely. But he had confidence still, as he antagonized the men and evaded poorly aimed attacks. Just as Kremy prepared his final move- the casting of
suggestion
on the leader of the group- another player joined the fight. The flaming fire genasi came in swinging heavy chains that took the gamblers out like a flame being extinguished- quickly and suddenly, leaving Kremy hunched over by the wall as the last man remaining- the genasi- stared back at him. His bright eyes and fiery hair lit up the darkness around him.
“The helps much appreciated, friend, but I assure you, I had the situation under control,” Kremy nodded towards the man.
The genasi wiped sweat from his forehead before replying. “Just repaying’ a favor.” His voice was deep, gruff, and crackly, much like a bonfire. Fitting, Kremy supposed. He began to turn, but Kremy suddenly had a spark of inspiration.
“Wait now, what’s your name, friend?”
The man glanced back over his shoulder before turning back around and deciding to engage in the conversation.
“Gideon Coal.”
“Well, Mr. Coal, do I have a proposition for you!” Kremy grinned. “See, I’m a bit of a small guy. You, and I do say this as a compliment, are very large, and very strong, right?”
The man- Gideon, as he said his name was- looked down at himself before eyeing Kremy head to toe. His intense eyes once again froze him in place, and now Kremy wasn’t sure exactly the reason why. But Gideon nodded slowly, and he figured he should continue.
“Lots of times, I get myself into a bit of trouble- a bad habit, I know, but I’ve gotta make my place in the world somehow, right? And with higher risk comes higher reward, you get what I mean? If I’ve got some muscle, I can catch the big fishes, and we can both reap the rewards! Ain’t that sound nice?”
Gideon thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly upwards in consideration.
“So ya want me to help ya con people?”
“Exactly that, Mr. Coal!”
“I don’t got much t’lose… Arright.”
Kremy could feel himself get giddy with excitement- but, he need to cool down. He just needed to finalize the deal. As he deal before, he sprung the magical contract into existence from his hand.
“Now let's sign and shake on it, yeah?”
That was when Gideon took a step back, frowning with brows furrowed.
“I’m not messing with some freaky voodoo. I’ll shake, but you put that thing,” he pointed to Kremy’s cane, “over there,” he pointed towards a spot on the ground.
Kremy’s smile wavered.
“Voodoo? Who do?”
“You do.”
“Do what?”
“Vo- yer just tryin’ ta run me in circles!”
Fuck. Whatever. This could be an alliance that worked still. Maybe, he could get him to sign it in his sleep. For now, he dispelled the contract, rolling back into his hand before it dispersed in the air, and he tossed his cane aside and stuck his hand out.
“Welcome aboard, Gideon Coal. I’m Kremy LeCroux, by the way.”
Gideon reached out, clamping around his hand and giving a firm and heavy shake before cracking a smile, like Kremy had told a funny joke.
“Nice t’be in business, Kremy.”
“I
can
cast magic without my cane, also.”