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Cheeky Dustbins, despite being an experienced Mobgoblin and former right-hand man of Albert Krag, wasn't really one for disguises. It wasn't that he hated them or anything. It just so happened that most disguises were some variation of a suit, and Cheeky didn't really like dressing up in suits. In fact, Cheeky didn't really like most clothing in general. He really only wore what he wore out of practicality. There was one disguise he did actually like, but he had worn it years ago, and he shouldn't be thinking of it.
Although Cheeky had personal hesitance regarding such things, he didn't protest when his friend, Porcelain Pete, suggested they get some costumes for their quest. It made sense, considering how the value of what they were carrying and the misunderstanding they'd been having with the Krag twins could attract some unwanted attention.
That was what they were currently doing; finding some good outfits in Magpie's caravan. The gnome had quite a big supply to choose from, meaning everyone got to take a turn playing dress-up. Pete was going first, being clothed in such a way to hide his porcelain body and bulky automaton frame.
“Right, let's see what we've got,” Magpie said speculatively, peering into the giant walk-in wardrobe full of layers upon layers of clothes. Pete and Cheeky stood behind him, watching patiently as he twitched his fingers, gaze shuffling through the closet. Magpie reached in, grabbing a brightly pinstriped suit, a yellow straw boater hat, and a polished cane. Cheeky felt his heart sink. If Magpie was giving Pete a suit, he would no doubt try to get Cheeky in one as well.
After a few contemplative seconds, Magpie seemed to change his mind, putting the clothes back and setting the cane down to his right. Cheeky watched hopefully as Magpie went back to searching. Perhaps there still is a chance.
“Might need something more discreet,” Magpie muttered, before spotting something much more calm (though just as fancy) and pulling it out. Although Cheeky was disappointed to see it was still a suit, he couldn't help but agree with him. Pete's size would already attract too much attention; it was best to have him wearing clothes which could help him better blend in.
“Alright, here you go!” Magpie exclaimed, pulling the clothes up to Pete's body to see if they fit. Pete looked down at them, his face as expressionless as always.
“Can I keep the cane?” Pete asked, looking at Magpie and gently taking the clothes from his outstretched hands.
“Yeah, why not?” Magpie said jovially, grabbing the cane from where he had leaned it against the wall and handing it to Pete as well. Cheeky shifted, wondering when they were going to move on.
“Fantastic.” Pete spun it in his hands, twirling it quickly through the air.
“Ni– oh, he's got a weapon now,” Cheeky said, leaning back as Pete’s stick swung towards him, nearly hitting his face. The automaton stopped, glancing at him somewhat apologetically before stilling the cane and planting it on the ground.
At least Pete seems happy, Cheeky thought as Magpie turned to him. Looked like it was time to see how much ol’ Cheeky Dustbins could bluff his way out of this one.
“How about you, Cheeky? What do you want to wear?” Magpie asked.
“I am a master of disguise,” Cheeky responded with a light grin, taking his cap off of his head, inverting it, and placing it back on. He knew it probably wouldn't work, but there was no harm in trying, right?
“Where did Cheeky go? Cheeky?!” Pete said, glancing around frantically and inadvertently helping him sell the bit. Cheeky looked over Magpie, who was studying him with an expression of doubt.
“What do you reckon Magpie, is that enough, or..?” Cheeky smiled as convincingly as he could.
“Yeah.. I mean, y- uh- you-”
Magpie stumbled over his words, obviously wanting to say no but not wanting to be rude. Cheeky sighed internally, trying to not let his negative thoughts show on his face. He knew he had to do this, to dress up for the greater good of the party.
“Alright, do you have anything I could uh– maybe you know, add to this?” Cheeky relented, adjusting his cap so it was better fitting on his head. It was just one mission, he had to remember that.
“Alright,” Magpie said, going back to the wardrobe and once again rummaging through it. Cheeky swallowed, his mouth dry as he began to remember an old memory, one that lurked in the back of his mind like an assassin waiting to strike. He shouldn't even be thinking of it. It was a long time ago, and he was dead, and such a thing would never be accepted in most of Donlo-
Cheeky froze, his eyes catching what Magpie was currently brushing past. Time slowed down, Cheeky's brain refusing to accept what it saw. No. It couldn't be. It had been so long, and although Magpie had other Mobgoblin artifacts, surely he couldn't have gotten his grubby, prying hands on it of all things?
But it was. The ballgown Cheeky had not seen in decades. It was a beautiful thing, with white, blue, and yellow ruffles. It looked just as it did all those years ago; pristine, graceful and elegant.
Cheeky could still remember that day in perfect clarity. How the sun shone through the clouds, warming the evening air. How Albert looked, more handsome than ever before. And how Cheeky had begun to question some things, some things he had kept long buried since Albert’s death.
“Well what do you think?”
Cheeky smiled, far too enamoured to answer.
The mission was simple. The two of them, Albert Krag and Cheeky, had to enter the Bigwhigs’ royal ballroom, locate the target, and kill him.
Cheeky normally wasn't one for killing innocent lads. This lad, on the other hand, was very much not innocent. His name was John “The Snake” Foxgloves, a fitting name to say the least. He had started out as a low level Mobgoblin only a couple of years ago, trustworthy and hardworking as any Mobgoblin should be. Or so everyone thought. Over time, he was able to work his way up through the ranks, until he knew most of their secrets, including where the main base of operations was. He had then betrayed them, taking all his possessions and heading over to Bigwhig territory.
The two of them knew that it was only a matter of time before John leaked all of their secrets, putting hundreds of lives at risk. Although the Bigwhigs usually didn’t allow Mobgoblin-related hobgoblins in their territory, once they knew John had information they would no doubt allow him to seek asylum there.
In fact, they already had. Luckily, Foxgloves being a money-greedy backstabber was a good thing, as it meant they were probably still negotiating a price with him. Earlier that day, some of the Mobgoblins had spotted him walking into a building; one of the giant, well guarded mansions symbolizing the Bigwhigs power, this one known for its gigantic ballroom.
By some lucky miracle, there was a dance happening in the ballroom that very night; some sort of annual celebration the Bigwhigs had. Although this made it easier to slip in, it would make it harder to find him due to all the people there to celebrate. The two people assigned to take him out had to sneak in through a swarm of enemies, find out where he was hiding, and kill him off. This being a job of top priority and quite, quite dangerous (even John Nipples wasn't coming), the task was taken over by Albert and Cheeky, who were currently finding ways to disguise themselves.
“Well?” Albert repeated, holding out his arms and presenting himself for Cheeky to see.
Cheeky blinked, snapping himself out of a daze, and gave Albert a genuine smile. “You look great mate!”
It was true. As much as Cheeky hated suits on himself, he sure liked it when others wore them, and Albert certainly wore his well. The hobgoblin looked quite handsome, his suit pressed tight against his body, his black hair parted and slicked. But that was exactly the problem. He looked too handsome. When Cheeky had signed up for the mission, he had thought it would be easy to keep his feelings snuffed. Apparently that didn't apply right now, as Cheeky found it ten times harder to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous man.
Cheeky looked away, a blush spreading over his face as he realized Albert had been looking at him questioningly. This was his friend. He couldn’t be doing this, having a crush. It was unprofessional, and they had a job to do.
“So, uh, you bring anything for me to change into?” Cheeky said with a nervous smile, trying to move on before Albert asked him why he was acting so strange.
They were currently hiding out in a small Mobgoblin storage base, only a few miles away from the ballroom and presumably the target. Stage one of the plan had gone quite well; get a hideout and plan their entrance. Stage two would be much harder.
“I would check the closet,” Albert replied, striding over to a mirror hanging on the wall. “See what you can find, then we can finish here.”
Cheeky turned away, leaving Albert on his own, and headed over to the small wooden closet in the corner of the room. The hideout was not very big, however it was intended to be only temporary, so Cheeky didn't mind. The mission was also partially secret; if something like this were to get out to the rest of the Mobgoblins, chaos would likely ensue. Unfortunately, this meant they had a lot less supplies and preparation than usual.
Cheeky opened the closet, looking through it as his fingers brushed over the clothes. It was pretty normal for fancy clothing, or in other words all stuff Cheeky hated. It was just suit after suit after suit after– Cheeky paused, eyebrows lifting in surprise when he realized what his hand was currently resting on. It appeared that someone– either unintentionally or completely on purpose– had stashed a ballgown in the closet. And not just a typical one. The ballgown was vibrant and colorful, reminiscent of a warm summer's day, with soft frills cascading down it like a waterfall.
Conflicting feelings bubbled at the base of Cheeky's core, but he suppressed them, trying to act as calm as he could as a bunch of thoughts whirred circles in his head. It wasn't like it would ever work anyways... would it?
“Hey Albert there's a ballgown in here,” Cheeky said over his shoulder.
“Hmm,” Albert replied nonchalantly, having moved from looking at himself to brushing his hair again. In Cheeky's opinion, he looked great as he was, but Albert could be quite touchy about his appearance. Besides, Cheeky always thought he looked great.
“Want me to wear it?” Cheeky said half-jokingly, unsure of how Albert would respond. He knew the man was a good person, but even good people surely had limits. Perhaps this is a good way to test the waters. Then we can see.
Albert set the comb down on the side table, turning away from the mirror to face Cheeky, who was smiling nervously. It's just a joke, that's all. I can play it off-
“Go ahead. Whatever makes you comfortable.” Albert deadpanned, once again turning his back and this time heading over to the kitchen area. Cheeky blinked. Not what he expected, but it was quite a relief nonetheless.
Cheeky took the ballgown down from where it hung, wrapping it around his arms and moving into the bathroom to put it on. Once he was inside, he changed quickly, not daring to glance at himself in the mirror until he had finished. It wasn't that Cheeky hated mirrors, he just– well he didn't prefer seeing his reflection. Something about it just always felt wrong.
With the ballgown it felt different. He wasn't perfect, but something was certainly better. If Cheeky could, he would just wear the dress to the ball, but unfortunately the disguise was far from complete. Although Cheeky and Albert had both dressed quite accurately to the normal clothing etiquette of the Bigwhigs, they also had bright red skin and pointy ears which could quickly give away their true identities, especially if said Bigwhigs were already looking for them. Not to mention that, by being the leader of the Mobgoblins and his second-in-command, they were even more recognizable.
The next step in their plan was therefore quite obvious. Not only would Cheeky and Albert have to dress up, they would also be changing their species to further hide, probably using magic or perhaps a really potent makeup. Then they had to sneak in and eliminate Foxgloves, which was its own problem to tackle.
Cheeky looked at himself one more time, adjusted the dress, and opened the door to the bathroom. He was promptly greeted by Albert, who was pouring boiling hot water from a kettle into two porcelain cups. It looked like he had found a type of tea able to alter their appearances.
Cheeky walked across the room, sitting down quietly in a chair nearby. He glanced at Albert, unsure on how to inform him he was done without disrupting his concentration. Luckily Albert noticed him, looking up and glancing at the dress before continuing to pour the liquid on top of the teabags. Cheeky let out a quiet sigh of relief.
As Albert finished steeping and preparing the tea, Cheeky found himself lost in his thoughts. He had recently been finding out that suits made him uncomfortable. But it wasn't just suits. Anything overly masculine– even his hair had begun to bother him sometimes. But the dress? That made him feel good. That’s the other thing, Cheeky thought as Albert carefully brought over the two teacups. Him. Cheeky had recently been feeling as if the labels he and him and his didn't really fit that well. But there wasn't any alternative, was there?
Albert sat down across from Cheeky, placing the teacups in the center of the round table.
“Alright, just drink one of these and you will start looking like a Bigwhig,” Albert said. “You will also have to change your voice to sound like a Bigwhig as well. The tea won't do it for you.”
Cheeky nodded, feeling as if he should say something. After a few moments of awkward silence, he grabbed the teacup, lifting it towards him, and finally decided to ask Albert the question that had been on his mind.
“Are you sure I can go in this?” Cheeky asked, motioning to what he was wearing with his free hand. He studied Albert's face carefully, waiting for a response.
Albert blinked slowly. “I don't see why not.”
“It's just…” Cheeky hesitated, trying to find the right words to articulate his point. “I don't want you to think this is a big joke or anything. I mean not that you would, it's just, well, y'know, I may be feeling certain things, and eventually I might change some things, and–”
Cheeky took a breath, closing his eyes for a brief second before opening them and continuing in a much slower cadence.
“Look, you know what I'm saying, right Albert? Unless you want me to really lay it out for you.”
Albert, who had been looking at his tea, lost in thought, turned his head up at the sound of his name, making eye contact with Cheeky. Cheeky felt a heat rise to his face under the intense brown-eyed gaze; whether it was from nervousness or other feelings around the hobgoblin, Cheeky had no idea.
“I am completely accepting of whatever you decide,” Albert said. “Like before. Whatever makes you comfortable. Now let's continue.”
Cheeky nodded once again. It felt as if they were going in circles; it was probably best to move on. Cheeky grabbed his tea, downing it as quickly as possible while avoiding potentially burning his tongue. Albert did the same, setting the cup back down on the table with a clink. The two of them waited, knowing it would take a minute for the tea to start affecting them.
“Will we wear the wigs like most Bigwhigs do?” Cheeky asked in the quiet that followed. Very few Mobgoblins knew about the mission, with it being so high risk, and those who did didn't know everything. Even Cheeky only had the most basic information.
“We won't. Most Bigwhigs do wear some form of a powdered wig, but there are so many people tonight it doesn't matter. We will just look like two who chose not to wear ours, which is often more common at these sorts of events.”
Cheeky went to say something in response, when his face suddenly twitched. It looked as if it was time for them to change. He looked over at Albert, and sure enough he too seemed to finally be feeling the effects of the tea. Before long they would both look like Bigwhig versions of their normal selves.
Cheeky felt his face morphing; ears shrinking in size, skin being covered in what felt like a thick coat of paint as quivers began to run through him. Holding out his hands in front of him, he watched as they slowly changed color, moving away from his natural and standard red. Before the transformation was done, he made sure to take one last glance as Albert. Just like Cheeky, his red was also leeching away, quicker than the sky turning to night in the winter. Cheeky felt a pang in his heart as he watched Albert finish his transformation, his body still vibrating with the magic.
Cheeky felt the jitters in his nerves start to slow down, the tea running through his veins finally choosing to settle in his system. Albert shook his hands, getting up and striding back over to the mirror to study his new form. Cheeky followed right behind him, the ballgown swaying around his feet. Seeing the dress in the mirror again made Cheeky grin, though once he saw how he looked in terms of species that grin quickly turned to an expression somewhere between wonder and curiosity.
The two of them mostly looked the same. They had the same eyes as before, with the same stature, clothing, and recognizable characteristics. But they were also completely different. No longer did Cheeky see a pair of hobgoblins. Instead he saw humans, who looked as if they were faulty copies of said hobgoblins.
“Quite interesting, isn't it,” Cheeky murmured, eyes flicking between the two figures in the mirror.
“Mhm,” Albert responded, clearly lost in thought as he scratched at the stubble on his chin. Cheeky looked at himself one more time, before beginning to turn away, knowing that they were likely about to get going.
“Do you want me to use she/her?”
Cheeky froze, chills running up his back as a light pink spread over his newly pale face. He knew Albert had quite a blunt way of speaking, but this was incredible even for him. On the other hand, he did have a fair point. Did Cheeky want to be called by she/her pronouns? Cheeky didn't always mind he/him, but maybe that was just because of how often it got used. And sometimes it was really bothersome. Not to mention how the idea of being called she/her made Cheeky feel... it was exhilarating for some reason. The more Cheeky thought, the more clear the answer was.
“Sure, I'm fine with that,” Cheeky stammered out, giving Albert a quick smile. She. If there was one thing Cheeky could get used to, it was that.
Albert nodded, not missing a beat. “Do you have your weapons?” He asked, and Cheeky motioned to the back of her dress, where her trusty crossbow was hidden quite well. Albert patted the legs of his trousers, double-checking that he had his, which in this case were a pair of daggers. Albert usually didn't directly get his hands dirty, but when he did he was able to use almost any weapon, whether it was a dagger, a sword, or even a bit of magic.
After it was clear that everything was ready to go, the two moved towards the door, both of them walking with a new confidence. Being careful to not get spotted exiting the base, Albert and Cheeky made their way further into the west end.
Although Cheeky had been to this side of Donlon before, it was still quite surprising to her how different it was from the east end. Unlike the smoke and industry, or the dark alleyways filled with goblin and hobgoblin kind alike, the west end was a lot brighter. The evening light filtering through the clouds managed to make it look like they were in a dream, and the streets were far more organized than the most structured block in the east end. If it weren't for the job they had to do, Cheeky would've loved to explore the area further, perhaps with Albert by her side.
It was here in the west end one was more likely to find humans, dwarves and elves, as opposed to the more scruffy and unique species. Nevertheless, Cheeky still ended up seeing a variety of interesting people on the streets, wearing a variety of interesting clothing.
As it turned out, the mansion was not hard to spot in the slightest. The dance was obviously a big event for the Bigwhigs; big enough that all the lights in the building and streets leading up to it were on. Despite there being fifteen minutes left until the ball started, a few Bigwhigs were already inside, with an increasing number forming at the door.
Cheeky and Albert slid into the group, trying to blend in with everyone around them. Being around so many Bigwhigs is quite unsettling, Cheeky thought as the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Most of the Bigwhigs were in a messy line, which was moving at the pace of a snail. This was mostly due to the guards at the front door, who were checking some sort of identification card before letting someone enter.
“Do we have those?” Cheeky asked uneasily, glancing around to make sure they hadn't been overheard.
“Right here,” Albert replied quietly, passing her a small square which seemed to be imbued with magical power. Cheeky held it in her hands, unsure what to do next. Unfortunately, being alone with her thoughts started to make her think of Albert, and how handsome he was, both as a human as and a hobgoblin, and how when he looked at her with that charming smile and beautiful eyes that just made her want to melt into a puddle–
Cheeky blinked, realizing she had been zoning out and was staring at Albert’s face. Luckily, he seemed blissfully unaware, and was busy looking through the growing line as if someone owed him money.
“Tell me if you see anyone who looks like Foxgloves,” Albert whispered to Cheeky after a few seconds. Ah, because she could totally do that, instead of focusing on his beautifully handsome face, and the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, and–
Stop it, Cheeky thought to herself, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach and how hot the air suddenly felt on her skin. Instead, she gave Albert a grin, joining him in scanning the Bigwhigs surrounding them as they waited for the line to move.
Despite the sheer amount of people, Cheeky didn't see anyone who looked suspicious, let alone similar to Foxgloves. Although they had different wigs, species, and garments, all the Bigwhigs felt eerily similar. The line continued scooting forward, and despite it seeming to take centuries Cheeky and Albert soon found themselves in front of the exquisite and grand entrance.
Standing next to the giant doors leading into the ballroom were two stone-faced guards, their arms crossed and expressions stern. One of the guards glowered at them, holding out her hand and motioning for the cards. Albert stepped forwards confidently, handing his to her, and Cheeky followed suit, much more nervously. If this failed, there would be no escape, as they were completely surrounded on all sides by enemies.
The guard grabbed both of the cards, looking at Cheeky for a brief second as she did so but saying nothing. She examined them carefully, eyebrows furrowing. Cheeky's crossbow began to feel heavy against her back, a bead of sweat dripping slowly down her temple. After what felt like an eternity, the guard handed the squares back, stepping aside to let them pass.
The two entered the mansion, which was a lot more crowded than Cheeky had first thought. Everywhere she looked she saw Bigwhigs, some of them dancing on the polished wooden floor, and some of them getting food and refreshments. Above the ballroom hung a chandelier, made of shining gold and sparkling crystal prisms.
Albert turned to Cheeky, giving her a dashing smile that made her skin prickle.
“Are you ready to dance?”
Cheeky felt her face go aflame, turning nearly as red as her usual skin tone.
“Well.. uh.. shouldn't we be looking for Foxgloves, mate?” Cheeky stammered out.
“We will while we dance. If we don't, we may seem too suspicious.”
After a brief second, Cheeky returned the smile, reaching out a hand which Albert quickly took.
“After you.”
Albert grasped her fingers gently, pulling her over to where the main dancers were and making sure they mirrored everyone else. Cheeky scanned around for Foxgloves, trying her best to avoid looking at Albert's face and trying to ignore the heat of his arms pressed against hers. Being so close meant she was aware of everything about him; the small shifts in his pace as they moved back and forth, the air surrounding him smelling faintly of smoke and the east end, and how his eyes flickered when they caught the light.
Despite doing her best to ignore all of these things, Cheeky found it was getting harder and harder as they continued. She could no longer pretend that her heart was beating only because of the danger, or that her face was hot only because the room had poor ventilation.
“So, have you thought of a name? If you’re picking a new one that is,” Albert asked suddenly, pulling her mind out of rumination.
While before he had seemed preoccupied with their job, scouring the nobles for any suspicious figures, Albert had abruptly turned his attention back to Cheeky, catching her quite off-guard. Cheeky brain took a second to load, eyes widening slightly when she realized that was what he was talking about.
“Well.. uh.. I've only really started experimenting with this stuff,” Cheeky said with a forced laugh. “I'm not even sure if I am, well, you know. Just want to try things out.”
Albert nodded, completely serious. “I understand.”
Cheeky nodded, not knowing what to say. It was really amazing how supportive Albert was. Then again, Cheeky hadn't stayed with the man for years because of his good looks. Well, maybe that was part of it, but the main reason was because of his personality, and how, despite being a gang leader, he had a strict moral code. Just like Cheeky. That was what set the Mobgoblins apart from everyone else; they had standards.
“Actually.. I do have a name I've been thinking of,” Cheeky said after about a minute of quiet had passed. Well, thinking of was a strong term. She had only really been aware of her feelings around gender for the past week or so. To be fair, there had always been something there, but she hadn't really been able to pinpoint it until recently.
“Would you like to tell me?” Albert offered.
“I was liking the name Crystal,” Cheeky said shyly, looking at him. Albert gave her a reassuring smile, making Cheeky’s body flood with relief.
They continued on in silence, much more comfortable than before. Cheeky tried to focus, but once again found herself being drawn towards Albert. There was something about him that was magnetic. She had never been able to get her mind off of him, but now, even when she really had to, she couldn't stop her thoughts. Everything about him was just so wonderful. How he looked, how he smelled, how warm his body felt as it was pressed up tightly against hers–
Oh shit. Cheeky made to pull away, a half-joking apology on her lips as she realized she had pressed up close against him. Unfortunately, the apology quickly died in her throat when she met Albert’s eyes, and although she could've pulled away she didn't, because who can pull away from eyes as luminous as amber? They were like honey, thicker than molasses but sweeter than fudge.
Cheeky felt the room quiet as she looked into them, the only sound remaining being her heart’s rapid thumping. How she longed to let them drift closer together, until their faces were mere inches away, and Albert's pink lips were touching hers, and–
Albert's gaze suddenly flicked away, turning sharp as his body subtly tensed. Cheeky stepped back, whipping her head around to where he was looking. In the far corner of the ballroom, disappearing into another room, was a figure. Specifically one with red skin.
“Foxgloves,” Cheeky whispered. In one fluid motion, Albert pulled apart from Cheeky, beginning to weave through the crowd and head towards the now closed door. Cheeky followed swiftly behind him, mourning the loss of contact but aware that there were more important matters to attend to. Albert stopped at the doorway, waiting impatiently for Cheeky to catch up. Before they entered, Albert turned to her, expression deadly serious.
“Prepare yourself. We don't know who's on the other side.”
Cheeky nodded affirmatively. It was time to catch this sneaky rat.
Albert put his hand on the silver doorknob, opening it slowly without making a sound. Once it was opened far enough, he slipped through. Cheeky trailed after him, shutting the door behind them with a quiet click. As soon as they were fully in the room, Cheeky felt a wave of cold wash over her skin. She turned to Albert, confused, only to see he no longer looked like a human, and was instead his normal hobgoblin self. It appeared some sort of anti-magic field had caused the effects of the tea to vanish.
Cheeky withdrew her crossbow from where it was strapped, slowly taking in her surroundings. The room they were in appeared to be where all the food was prepared to be presented to the public. All around were heaping piles of the most delectable and delicious foods, arranged and ready to go on fancy trays. From what Cheeky could tell, the room was perfectly normal, except for the fact that the whole space was empty, their shifty target nowhere to be found.
Not only was it empty, but also unsettlingly quiet. The room was quite big, so, using some well practiced thieves' cant just in case anyone was eavesdropping, Cheeky and Albert decided to each explore a different half. Cheeky's area was quite bland, the only interesting thing being the magical spices. After checking around multiple times, it was obvious that nothing was amiss, so Cheeky finally decided to reconvene with Albert.
Cheeky returned to the center of the room, but it appeared Albert wasn't done with his search. She walked over to him, only to find that, much to her confusion, he was standing still, as if he had been turned into a statue. Cheeky got closer, eyebrows tensing in confusion as he looked at her with wide eyes.
“Albert?” Cheeky said, but he didn't respond, just continued looking at her frantically. Cheeky's mind began to work overtime. Was he trapped somehow, perhaps caught in an arcane circle? No, that wouldn't make sense, as she would surely be able to see the sigils on the ground. Cheeky continued to brainstorm, pacing back and forth, before looking back at him for guidance.
Instead of moving his eyes this time, Albert moved his lips, simply mouthing one word. Run.
Cheeky's blood turned to ice, but it was far, far too late. A voice rang out across the room, certainly not Albert's but still very familiar.
“Well well well. Look who we have here.”
A figure suddenly appeared behind Albert out of thin air, a dagger held to the base of Albert's throat. So that's why he wasn't moving. Cheeky narrowed her eyes, looking at the person holding the weapon. Surely it couldn't be... Cheeky's mouth dropped as she realized that she did indeed recognize their assailant. It wasn't Foxgloves, nor a Bigwhig threatening the leader of the Mobgoblins. The person holding the knife to Albert's throat was none other than Phil Krag.
“Masquerading as a Bigwhig it seems?” Phil said to his father, expression cold and calculating as he slowly looked between Cheeky and Albert. “That doesn't seem very… Mobgoblin of you.”
“Mate, you know why we're here!” Cheeky said, raising her hands in surrender, confused why, out of anyone, Phil was attacking Albert. It was his dad after all. “Wha- why are you doing this?”
"You going to answer the question, old man?" Phil asked, digging the knife deeper and making Cheeky flinch in sympathy.
“I am from the east end,” Albert choked out, the explanation seeming unnecessary were it not for the demanding blade pressing tight to his throat. “I thought it was important that I adopted the accent of the Bigwhigs. And the disguise, for the mission.”
“And what mission would that be?” A voice said from the other half of the room. Cheeky turned around, only to be met with the other Krag twin, Grant Krag. He too had a weapon, this time a fancy gun with a polished wooden handle and shiny steel barrel. Said weapon was, unfortunately, aimed right at her.
Cheeky looked back and forth between the two of them. What were they playing at? Although mostly none of the other Mobgoblins knew of the mission, Grant Krag had actually been the one to inform Albert of the betrayal. Why were they pretending not to know of it, and more importantly why were they threatening them?
“Does your mission perhaps involve this hobgoblin?” Grant continued mockingly, opening a hidden door Cheeky had failed to see on one of the walls. A hobgoblin walked through it, his head held high and shoulders relaxed.
Cheeky's eyes widened in recognition, hand tightening on her crossbow. “Foxgloves,” she muttered. “But that means–”
“You're finally connecting the dots,” Grant said, smiling wickedly with his hand clasped behind him. “You may go now,” he said, turning towards Foxgloves, who bowed in reply. “Inform the Bigwhigs we are almost done here.”
“Why did you lure us here?” Cheeky said, voice shaking slightly.
“There's an age old tradition,” Grant replied, beginning to pace towards them, pulling off his black leather gloves and throwing them on the floor, “around Mobgoblins and gang leaders.”
A noise sounded from behind Cheeky, and she turned around to see Albert stumbling towards her, visibly shaken but unharmed. Phil Krag, who had just let him go, was sheathing his knife, a smile stretching across his face.
“And the thing is,” Grant Krag continued, coming to a stop a few feet in front of Cheeky and Albert, teeth glinting like a sharp row of knives. Cheeky felt her blood run cold.
“We are going to uphold that tradition.”
Cheeky blinked out of the memory, eyes slightly misty. It had been so long since he had thought of that night with Albert. If things had gone better, perhaps Cheeky would've considered trying out some things after the dance. But the night hadn't ended well. The whole thing was a ruse, a set-up planned by the Krag twins, to try and make it look like Albert was becoming too much of a Bigwhig and give them a reasonable excuse to do what they planned to do. Because only a few minutes after they danced together, Cheeky had to bear witness to Albert getting devoured by kids he had once helped raise.
Ever since that fateful night, he– or was it she? had been ignoring all those feelings, both the ones around falling in love and the ones around wearing a ballgown. Even taking a moment to consider any of that stuff brought back too many painful memories of Albert getting eaten. It was much easier to pretend you didn't like suits and try to avoid them than to explore and unpack the deeper meaning behind those thoughts.
But Cheeky couldn't pretend anymore. The memory of Albert was no longer buried in the back of Cheeky's mind, and she could no longer ignore it. That dance and that chat had meant everything to her, was she really going to continue to let Albert's death ruin it? She could no longer go on pretending; pretending she liked the Krag twins, pretending she didn't have a crush on Albert, pretending she was a man.
“Can I wear the ballgown?”
Magpie turned around from what he was doing, looking at Cheeky. Oops, Cheeky thought to herself, her face turning a dark maroon as everyone looked at her. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Ah, fuck it. She had said she was done hiding and she meant it.
“Yeah, can I wear the ballgown?” Cheeky restated, returning Magpie blank stare. Magpie blinked, breaking his gaze away and looking back and forth between the ballgown and Cheeky before shrugging.
“Alright. Don't know if it will fit though.”
“It will,” Cheeky replied, and Magpie took the dress out of the wardrobe, handing it to her. Cheeky looked around the rest of the party, trying to gauge their reactions. Pete looked quite indifferent, as if he didn't care what Cheeky wore. Carlos probably looked the most uncomfortable, but when Cheeky looked over at him he gave her a sharp nod. Maureen, on the other hand, looked quite interested, muttering under her breath about how it gave her an idea.
Cheeky brushed them off, turning back to Magpie. She was going to do what she wanted now, without worrying whether they liked it or not.
“So you disguising yourself as a woman then? Because I can find you some heels.” Magpie said, turning back to the closet and looking in the shoe section.
“Not a disguise but yeah, I would love some heels,” Cheeky said quietly. "We can discuss names when I get back."
The dress in her arms, she walked away from the group with confidence, not hearing their responses as she went to get changed. John Nipples followed behind her, swerving between her feet and meowing indignantly when she wouldn't let him come get changed in the bathroom with her.
Once away from everyone, Cheeky let out a deep breath, a tension she didn't know she had finally dispersing from her shoulders. I've done it, she thought, the world around her becoming blurry as she slowly realized she was tearing up.
Albert would be proud.
An annoyed yowl sounded outside the door, John Nipples obviously still pissed off. Cheeky smiled, preparing to put the ballgown on as she had done all those years ago. It was time to let go of the past. It was time to be herself.