"Now, who’s ready to play so cards?" Ricky called out, his grin rising with the swelling roar of the crowd around him.
phisto cast a sidelong glance at the spectators, his crimson eyes flicking across the rickety bleachers before settling on the center table with silent calculation.
Only for his eyes to narrow on the familiar outline of the deck of cards.
phisto’s smile twitched, the sight of that deck dragging up the mory of the last ti he sat across from Ricky with that exact sa deck.
He rembered watching Ricky pull royal flush after royal flush, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t prove the bastard was cheating.
That hateful certainty had driven his fury to rare heights.
So much so, he’d started to regard Ricky with a familiarity no one should dare have with this ancient demon.
"Ricky, I have an inquiry-" phisto began, intending to steer the conversation toward getting rid of those cursed cards.
But before he could continue, Ricky threw an arm around his shoulder.
"Save it for later, cause right now, we gotta get you ready." Ricky laughed, patting the old demon’s chest.
phisto simply raised an eyebrow at the hand draped around him, then shifted that sa eyebrow toward Ricky’s words, mildly unimpressed.
"What do you an, ready?"
3 bottles later,
"CHUG!"
GULP
"CHUG!"
GULP
BURRRRRRRRRRRRP
A thunderous burp echoed across the arena, drowning out the chants that had surrounded phisto as he popped his lips off the wine bottle with a quiet smack.
"Say what you will about the dwarves, but they make a truly admirable wine." phisto muttered, inspecting the label just after finishing the other two bottles Ricky egged him on to drink.
"GIVE IT UP FOR PHISTO, EVERYONE!" Ricky shouted, grinning as he clapped the demon on the back and guided him toward the table with a showman’s flourish.
However, the cheers faded into nothing as phisto’s gaze fixed on the deck of cards, his focus so intense he could almost hear the anxiety thrumming in his chest.
An unease Ricky had planted in him ever since that debacle in Dracula’s castle, he still couldn’t make sense of how Ricky had pulled it off.
In phisto’s eyes, Ricky was a man bursting with fierce power yet utterly clueless about how to wield it.
No one on this earth could manipulate magic more skillfully than phisto himself, and he had even checked the cards while confirming there were no magical signatures.
And yet, every ti they played, he lost to the foul-mouthed Ricky.
"I see that we do not have a dealer." phisto said suddenly, turning his head toward the drunken Ricky rubbing his eye.
"Huh?"
Snap
With a snap of his conniving fingers, an imp materialized beside the table, hovering next to the deck of cards.
"As a guest, it’s only right I help the host in any way I can by supplying a dealer-" phisto began, eager to get any possible advantage he could.
"That won’t be necessary."
The voice cut sharply through the crowd, and with a swirl of smoke, a skeletal hand erged beside the imp and grabbed the demon’s wrist before it could reach the deck of cards.
"As per my master’s will, I have co to serve as the honorary dealer." Chuck announced, brushing the imp aside and neatly positioning himself beside the deck of cards.
"Hey, Chuck!" Ricky waved, his drunken excitent clear at the sight of his undead servant who simply nodded in acknowledgnt.
"Hello, Master. It’s always a pleasure to carry out your wishes," Chuck said calmly, fully aware of what needed to be done in accordance with Ricky’s command.
"Right, yeah, where is the other one?" Ricky asked, confused since whenever he saw Chuck there was usually another undead next to him.
anwhile outside Calot,
"So I get the guy and then I grab him, then I hold him steady, then I devour his soul, then I got another guy-" Boney said excitedly, poorly recounting the fight with rlyn’s forces to a ghoul hauling so of the chira’s through the portal.
SIGH
"He is disposed, master." Chuck sighed, finally managing to get away from that empty skulled undead.
"Oh-"
"HOW MUCH AGONIZING SUFFERING MUST I ENDURE BEFORE THIS GA FINALLY STARTS!" Alexander wailed, theatrically drunk while pounding his tiny paw against the table.
But it was the roar of the crowd behind him that pushed everyone to hurry, their eagerness to witness the ga against these powerful individuals completely palpable as bets were hurled through the stands.
One by one, the players took their seats at the table, arranged exactly like a poker ga.
Six chairs stretched across one side in pairs, all facing the dealer, Chuck, who stood poised beside the deck of cards.
Ahem
"The rules of the ga-"
"Excuse , before we begin, may I offer a suggestion?" phisto interrupted abruptly, eting Chuck’s scowl as every eye in the room turned to him.
"Yeah, sure," Ricky said casually, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal until his relaxed posture straightened at what the suggestion entailed.
"This is a millennia-old whiskey that was distilled next to a dying star, made by dwarves who died fighting for Odin’s father, Bor." phisto announced, his grandiose words almost forcing Ricky’s eyes to lock onto the old bottle slowly placed on the table before him.
"First, I suggest we toast to the fun night ahead, then a shot for every-..........what ga are we playing?" phisto was about to continue, only to realize he didn’t even know what ga they were playing.
"Go-fish." Ricky answered, licking his lips without once breaking his gaze from the liquid barely visible through the dust-covered glass.
"Yes, Go-fish, I suggest-pardon?" phisto began, then abruptly stopped once again, a strange expression crossing his face as he looked at Ricky for wanting to play a child’s ga.
"Holy sh*t, you know what we should do?" Ricky said suddenly, a brilliant idea lighting up his eyes as he swiped the bottle and snapped his fingers for a glass.
"Wait-" Veredelt and phisto’s eyes snapped wide open as they lunged to stop the dangerous words they both knew were coming from Ricky.
Only to be beaten to the punch by a forr raging alcoholic.
"Let’s all take a shot whenever we get a pair!" Ricky laughed, his empty hand suddenly filled with a shot glass, courtesy of Chuck.
It was the exact sa suggestion phisto had made just seconds before, but what made it different this ti was that Veredelt recognized that particular whiskey.
Alongside phisto, who had spoken too soon for his own good because if he wanted to win at Go Fish, he’d have to down at least eight shots of that dreadful drink.
"Ricky, the wine was already enough." Veredlet said, concern clear in his voice as his eyes flicked toward the bottle.
"Veredlet has a point Ricky, that whiskey is sothing-" phisto began, coughing as he surprisingly agreed with Veredlet, but Ricky swatted his outstretched hand away.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re all pussies, I get it." Ricky said with a dismissive wave, ignoring them as he poured the whiskey.
The pungent scent filled the air as Ricky poured the whiskey into a glass, his smile widening with every second the burning sting hit his eyes.
The other five stayed silent, even Alexander, each visibly flinching as the whiskey’s fierce kick burned their nostrils.
"Anyone else excited?" Ricky asked, setting the bottle down and holding up the glass, filled far more than it should be.
phisto, sitting beside him, smiled faintly but inwardly tried to figure out whether Ricky was a psychopath or if he actually understood what the old demon had planned to win the ga and was turning it right back on him.
This whiskey was unlike any other, its properties rivaled only by the finest Asgardian liquor.
A brew so pungently potent that even the gods themselves were said to fall drunk after just one bottle.
And now, Ricky held a glass filled to the brim with that legendary amber liquid.
"Down the hatch!" Ricky laughed, lifting the glass high in such a fast manner that even Asterion rose to his feet in response.
"Wait, Ricky-"
GULP
In one swift gulp, Ricky drained the entire glass, while phisto stood to the side, watching quietly as Ricky smacked his lips.
"Woah-" Ricky said as the taste hit his tongue, the burn creeping up until it overwheld his entire lungs.
COUGH
COUGH
COUGH
Ricky almost imdiately erupted into a harsh fit of coughing, his hand clutching his stomach as if it were blazing with fire.
His face flushed into a deep crimson, eyes watering from the fierce burn spreading through his throat and chest.
The liquid seed to churn like molten lava inside him, scorching every nerve ending with rciless heat.
Ricky dropped to his knees and slamd his forehead against the ground, the pain slithering through his chest like a living thing while he clutched it tightly.
It felt as if his heart were lting, liquefying under the unbearable heat coursing through his veins.
"Ricky, are you okay?" Asterion asked, dropping to one knee beside him as Ricky spat onto the ground.
But after a mont, Ricky lifted his head, his eyes so wildly dilated that only a sliver of green remained in his irises.
The sight made Asterion flinch, instinctively leaning in and tilting his head, trying to make sure Ricky was still alright.
"Ricky?"
The reason phisto had remained so quiet at the side was simple since he had, as always, left out one crucial detail.
Yes, like the other barrels, this was dwarven whiskey: aged in arcane casks, brewed with mythic ingredients, and forged in subterranean crucibles lined with molten gold while orbiting a dying star.
But he left out one little thing.
The crucial fact that the barrel it was forged in had been coated in a rare moss, one that thrived by feeding off the pulsating life of the dying star itself.
Akin to natural psilocybin or ergot, the moss carried a potent psychedelic compound.
It was a dwarven delicacy, brewed only for those who sought to be crossfaded beyond reason and for warriors who wished to see the gods while still gripping their axes.
And Ricky had just downed an entire glass of it.
"Woah~" Ricky muttered, his fingers trailing through Asterion’s soft white fur.
"When did you get your hair?" Ricky asked, clearly rembering a ti when the minotaur had none and yet here Asterion was, fluffy and white.
Asterion frowned, the weight of concern creeping onto his drunken features.
He was drunk, no doubt about that, but even in his stupor, he could tell sothing was wrong with Ricky.
And if he was worried, that ant it was bad.
So, in the foggy swirl of his booze-soaked thoughts, only one solution presented itself.
The nearby coven burst into laughter, so plugging their noses as Asterion grabbed the bottle and started pouring.
The liquid filled far past the line of reason, letting the whiskey overflow in the glass Ricky had just used.
In his drunken haze, Asterion made a decision that if Ricky had ascended to so unknown level of drunken enlightennt, then he’d et him there.
So while Ricky stared intently at his hands, marveling at how they were just there attached to his wrists, Asterion lifted his glass.
GULP
phisto and Veredelt’s eyes shrunk at the display, watching as Asterion stared down the glass and nodded to himself with sober conviction.
"That was actually-" Asterion started, marveling at the taste until his surroundings started to blur.
THUD
Dust billowed into the air as the father of all minotaurs toppled backward, the drink quite literally knocking him on his ass.
"I’m beginning to think I was a bit hasty with my suggestion," phisto admitted, earning a sharp, disapproving side-eye from Veredelt.
Veredelt finally recognized the brew though not by na, but by the distinct green label that set it apart from the regular dwarven whiskey’s familiar red.
The dwarven wine they’d shared earlier had left Veredelt slightly buzzed, though it was hardly enough to faze a vampire of his stature.
That’s how he ca to understand why phisto was so apprehensive about his own liquor, it was clearly strong enough to affect even him.
Which ant it could just as easily affect Veredelt.
Even phisto was a little lost, unable to fully process that Ricky hadn’t just drunk the whiskey, but nearly a full glass of it.
In fact, phisto had fully expected Ricky to laugh in his face or curse him out which was why he’d originally offered it as a re suggestion.
But what truly caught phisto off guard was how Ricky didn’t just drink the whiskey, he drank such a potent amount without hesitation.
COUGH
COUGH
phisto and Veredelt’s shock was interrupted by Alexander’s coughing as he had just downed a glass that, by gerbil standards, was practically a full glass.
Covering his tiny paws over his mouth, the gerbil fought to keep it down while Bucephalus sighed, then nudged the whiskey glass toward Chuck with his hoof.
"Allow , honored ally of my master." Chuck said politely, pouring a glass for the mighty steed, who scoffed at the term ’ally.’
The glass, filled with the potent, psychedelic whiskey, was set before Bucephalus.
The horse didn’t flinch and opened his mouth wide as Chuck poured the entire contents straight into his gullet.
HUFF
HUFF
HUFF
Bucephalus imdiately jerked his long head to the side, his hooves pounding the ground as a fiery blaze erupted from his nostrils which caused maddening huffs of air to follow.
"I-I understand what collidescopes were always trying to tell us!" Ricky laughed from the side, the revelation making him stagger and drop to his knees once again.
He gazed upward, his eyes pulsing with a dazzling array of colors, while phisto and Veredelt exchanged uneasy glances over the whiskey.
"Drink it."
"Drink it!"
"DRINK IT!"
The coven began to chant softly at first, then with growing hysteria, their voices rising as the other four started to wobble unsteadily across the arena.
All while phisto and Veredelt exchanged a sharp side-eye, until suddenly, the old vampire slowly stepped forward.
"Are you truly about to partake in that sa serving size?" phisto asked with an amused chuckle, twisting the ends of his moustache thoughtfully.
"Do you see breaking my stride?" Veredelt replied with a question of his own, continuing his steady pace toward the bottle.
"For as long as I’ve known you, I’d think you wouldn’t join in this foolery." phisto said absentmindedly, tracing his fingernail across the table.
"Normally I wouldn’t, but today, I feel as if I have to act in good faith," Veredelt chuckled at his words, pouring the pungent whiskey into the glass.
"We’ve known each other a long ti, phisto, since the days of Atlantis," Veredelt mused, smiling with the nostalgia of a ti before the dark ages.
"And in that ti, we’ve watched empires collapse under the weight of their own hubris, and mortals damn themselves chasing all the sins you’ve pretended to be." Veredelt continued, finishing the pour and lifting the full glass with his pale fingers.
"But it is connections that have sustained and stabilized our position in this world." Veredelt said, his voice calm but tinged with respect for the man currently sprawled against the ground reaching for colors that weren’t really there.
"And I’ve decided to strengthen this connection I have with Luciano’s." Veredelt slowly resolved, holding the glass steady to his lips.
"I suppose the rumors of your allegiance weren’t a facade-"
"An alliance," Veredelt corrected, downing the glass in one swift motion, following Ricky’s lead.
Cough
"An alliance based on such magnificent rewards that even I am excited to celebrate," Veredelt corrected, coughing once before setting the glass down.
phisto imdiately frowned, catching the implication behind Veredelt’s words that the old vampire now had his hands on rlyn’s Chira research, or at least so version of it.
Even phisto had sought the demigod’s research but had been barred from accessing the otherworld until this very mont.
"I think it’s ti you start seeing the benefits in Ricky Luciano, rather than holding onto what you rember him as." Veredelt said, gesturing thoughtfully as the old demon simply stroked his mustache and remained silent for a mont.
He just listened as the mad laughter echoed behind them with Ricky sprawled on the floor, cackling at nothing and everything, eyes wide with kaleidoscopic visions of colors being forced together in his high.
Alexander the gerbil now lay flat, whispering soft philosophical mantras to his own reflection.
Bucephalus stood frozen in awe, his pupils dilated and chest heaving as if he’d just galloped through a battle.
The horse’s head jerked from side to side, struggling to catch a glimpse of whatever elusive vision held his gaze.
And Asterion sat cross-legged near the center of it all, growing increasingly aggravated while clawing intricate maze patterns into the dirt beneath him with the tip of one massive finger that had spirals, dead ends, loops, and false exits.
"You truly believe in his worth?" phisto asked skeptically, convinced Ricky still needed more ti to age, much like the whiskey they were drinking.
"I believe in results, and so far, my expectations have been t, then exceeded." Veredelt replied, glancing toward Ricky, who was now reaching out to kiss the air.
"I assu this is the entry fee for the ga?" phisto muttered, knowing Veredelt would never allow him to play if he didn’t match the others’ whiskey intake.
"You would be correct." Veredelt replied, gently placing the filled glass between them.
"Well, I must say, it is tempting to-"
CLINK
Veredelt’s fingernail tapped sharply against the glass, interrupting phisto as if seeing through his excuse to buy ti for the effects to take hold of the old vampire.
"What say you?" Veredelt asked, clearly asking whether he wanted to partake in the stakes or leave now while he had the chance.
"I say cheers." phsito said wryly, raising the glass along with his devilish smile.
"To good faith."
10 minutes later,
"Has everyone finished?" Chuck asked, his voice calm as he patiently eyed the six figures crawling back to their seats in front of him.
"My face, can everyone see my face?" Ricky asked, holding his head, suddenly terrified no one could see his features.
"I know we’re in a maze. Everything is a maze and that’s why life is so frustrating!" Asterion whispered, dragging his finger against the table as he scratched yet another crude labyrinth into the wood.
A faint, persistent scratching continued beside him as Bucephalus pressed his forehead against the surface, studying the grains of the table like they were ancient runes.
"Figaro, Figraro, Fiiiiiiiiiiiiigaro!" Veredelt wailed out like an opera singer, one fist clenched dramatically to his chest, the other gripping his empty glass as though it had wronged him.
phisto sat quietly beside Ricky, perched elegantly on the stool next to Veredelt, his posture unbothered and refined as he stared directly at Chuck with a clean, clear smile.
Cough
POOF
phisto coughed, and in the next second, a swirl of red smoke erupted around him.
When it cleared, he had taken the form of a snake, flicking his tongue in a deliberate hiss that felt more like a warning than a natural sound.
POOF
"You were sssaying?" phisto asked, his forked tongue briefly slurring into a hiss before he reford into his demonic humanoid form.
Chuck remained completely quiet, staring at everyone before reaching for the cards.
"We’re playing Go Fish." Chuck suddenly said with authority, the tone sharp enough to make all six of them turn, or at least vaguely twist, in his direction.
"Four of a kind with the sa number or face is a book, which is four points." Chuck began, tapping the table once.
Ricky nodded solemnly, still checking the edges of his face with his palms like a mi trying to find the glass wall.
"Two of a kind with the sa number or face is a pair, which is one point." Chuck continued, tapping the table rhythmically to keep their attention.
"Books and pairs." phisto murmured, his gaze distant, as if he were tasting the soul of the ga between each syllable.
"The one with the most points at the end or to 27 points, wins." Chuck continued, spreading the cards like he was dealing fate itself.
Asterion nodded slowly, though continued to stare down at his own maze like he was suddenly seeing it in four dinsions.
"And rember." Chuck said, locking eyes with each of them.
"If soone asks you for a card, and you have it, you must give it up." Chuck explained clearly as phisto glanced silently from left to right before returning his smile forward.
Veredelt clapped his hands like a noble being presented with a theatre of blood, basking in it’s hue on the center stage as the coven roared behind him.
"Go?" Alexander whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he read the word.
"Fish!" Alexander suddenly realized, the aning striking him like a bolt of understanding.
"And don’t forget, no cheating." Chuck said but as he spoke, he leaned in slightly and gave Ricky a knowing wink.
The coven erupted into cheers as Chuck began dealing the cards, five to each of the six players, while the crowd eagerly placed their bets.
"FIFTY ON THE RED ONE!"
"TWENTY ON THAT F*CKING STUD OF A HORSE!"
"HUNDRED ON SLICK!"
"TEN ON MR. LUCIANO!"
"THREE CENTS ON ALEXANDER THE GREAT!"
"THIRTY ON THE SINGING VAMPIRE!"
Money flew through the stands like the roars of the crowd, bets placed wildly as everyone wagered whatever they had left.
"These symbols, they’re all moving." Ricky muttered, squinting down at the back of his cards while clutching his face with the other, as if afraid it might slip away.
"Opera has had the wrong audience for quite so ti. It was originally, and for a long ti, a form of entertainnt ant for everyone to enjoy. Now, it’s mostly elitists obsessed with the classics, yet quick to insult any reinterpretation that strays from tradition." Veredelt sighed, fanning his cards with a touch of sorrow for the art’s decline.
Next to him, Asterion was tracing yet another maze into the table, his cards untouched as if the ga itself was beneath the architecture of his obsession.
Bucephalus just grunted, eyes darting between his hoof and the reflections in his drink, watching himself like a man trying to rember what being sober felt like.
POOF
POOF
phisto, still flickering in and out of his snake form, smiled as if the outco had already been written.
"Now, Alexander, it’s your turn," Chuck said, holding out his hand toward the gerbil.
"Y-Yes?" Alexander asked, his pupils dilated as he looked toward Chuck for an answer before sohow seeing it.
"Hit ." Alexander nodded, glancing around just as the other players started cursing, as if they’d missed it.
"I forgot you could do that, F*CK!" Ricky yelled, grabbing his hair and banging his forehead against the table.
"N-No, this is Go-fish Master, you hit in blackjack-" Chuck quickly corrected, watching the hope drain from his master’s face.
"Fold." Ricky said suddenly, his pupils dilated as he shook his head, eyebrows scrunched while scanning the room.
"What kind of restaurant is this, huh? Where are the f*cking hot waitresses!" Ricky asked, clearly annoyed that the place wasn’t living up to its custors’ expectations.
"Master, as I’ve said, this is go-fish-"
"Bucephalus, do you have any fours!" Asterion suddenly yelled, his frustration rising as he struggled to understand why the ga was dragging on.
"Asterion, it is not your turn-"
BAM
"DAMMIT!" Asterion slamd his fist on the table, enraged by the frustrating rule, his glare locking onto Chuck, who calmly turned his attention back to Alexander.
"Alexander, it is still your turn." Chuck said politely, carefully avoiding Asterion’s glare as the minotaur clenched his fist so tightly it began to shake.
"Asterion, give your four-"
"DAMMIT!" Asterion roared, his eyes flashing red as smoke seed to hiss from his nostrils.
Still, the minotaur reluctantly handed over the card as Alexander promptly took it, then sat back down, his gaze shifting from the four to Chuck.
"Hit -"
"No Alexander, now you reveal your four-" Chuck quickly cut in, pinching the bridge of his skull at the high gerbil.
"I don’t have a four, I have a three." Alexander innocently said, showing the three to everyone, who nodded in acknowledgnt.
"Since you don’t have the correct card, Alexander, you must return Asterion’s four and go fish." Chuck corrected, carefully taking the card and handing it over to the father of all minotaurs.
"FINALLY, SOTHING’S GOING MY WAY!" Asterion yelled, snatching the card from Chuck and slipping it back into his hand.
It was then that Chuck’s bony fingers slowly reached for the deck, but as he did, Alexander, who was severely tripping, suddenly felt a surge of overwhelming fear.
The gerbil flinched as Chuck slid a card toward him, fear quickening Alexander’s heartbeat and making the hairs on his neck stand on end.
Yet through it all, his feet moved forward because not even fear could halt the montum of his unrelenting will as he slowly flipped the card upward.
Sigh
"False alarm, it is rely a jack." Alexander sighed, realizing he’d worked himself up for nothing as everyone finally exhaled their breath.
The series of events felt like a fever dream for Chuck, who quickly realized it wouldn’t be that easy.
"Listen everyone, how it works is that when you have a card and you think soone else has the matching one-"
Chuck stood out of place in the crossfaded ga of Go Fish, repeating the rules over and over as if clinging to so final thread of order.
Until finally, Chuck managed to instruct his way through not only Alexander’s turn, but even Bucephalus and Asterion.
When Chuck finally finished the painful explanations and signaled it was Veredelt’s turn, a problem arose.
"Mr. V-"
"You see."
He couldn’t get a word in.
"That’s why I’d rather watch less-than-perfect singers who can act very well than technically competent perforrs who can’t act at all." Veredelt carefully explained to Chuck, really trying to sell him on the emotional appeal of opera.
Veredelt wasn’t even looking at his cards, too absorbed in a mostly one-sided conversation, explaining the opera to Chuck.
"Yes, Mr. Veredelt, I understand, but you need to-"
"I need more opera houses to play Salo, a masterful work that deserves to be perford far more often," Veredelt interrupted Chuck, shaking his head at the cruelty of theaters nowadays when it ca to one of his favorite plays.
"Please-"
"Ugh." Veredelt sighed, rolling his eyes before glancing at his cards with disinterest and setting them down.
"Alexander, do you have a seven?" Veredelt asked dryly, completely unamused by the ga or the stakes, as Alexander looked around uncertainly.
"I-I don’t think so." Alexander muttered, pacing back and forth while frantically flipping through his cards to be sure.
"Now, give a card." Veredelt said, holding out his hand patiently as Chuck handed him the next card, which the vampire then placed to the side.
Ahem
"And that’s also why Wagner’s opera would be much better without the singing-" Veredelt resud his rambling, trying to continue their one sided conversation.
Chuck tiredly gestured toward phisto, already exhausted by whatever the demon was up to, only for phisto to casually turn his attention to the gerbil instead.
"Alexander, do you have a jack?" phisto calmly asked, actually playing the ga without a thorough explanation which completely took Chuck off guard.
"I-I don’t think so," Alexander muttered, pacing back and forth while frantically tipping up the cards to see if he actually did have one.
He repeated the sa routine he’d done with Veredelt, scanning each card with increasing desperation, until his eyes suddenly widened in surprise.
"N-No~" Alexander whispered, covering his mouth in horror at the reveal of a jack.
"What have I done?" Alexander gasped, his voice trembling with disbelief, as if he’d just betrayed his closest comrade.
"Thank you." phisto politely said, reaching for the jack until his fingers suddenly vanished into red smoke.
POOF
A snake slithered up in his place, flicking its tongue before phisto reappeared in his demonic form, calmly plucking the jack from the table.
"Ricky, do you have any nine’s?" phisto asked, turning toward him with a relaxed tone.
"Aye, WHERE ARE THE GODDAMN WAITRESSES!" Ricky barked, standing off to the side and glaring around what he had assud was a fine establishnt.
His voice roared out with such force that a flock of birds scattered from the tower above as a pair of green eyes turned, following the sudden flapping with idle curiosity.
"Is sothing wrong, sister?" A woman asked, her voice calm as she stepped out from the darkened forest, settling beside her sibling.
One by one, more won began to erge, heads peeking from the treeline, their curiosity piqued by the sudden pause.
As they stepped into the open, they revealed themselves to be the druids.
Chosen by Gaea herself for the sacred task of seducing Ricky, they all turned their gaze toward a single woman among them.
Fiery red hair cascading in wild waves down her back, framing a face with delicate, pointed ears that marked her as one of them.
Her skin was supple and glowing kissed by sun and dew, shining with the vitality of nature itself.
Every curve of her body was as lustful and ravenous as the trees they turned their backs to, as if nature itself had conspired to carve desire into her flesh.
Her breasts rose like ripe fruit against her druid attire, pushed up and held together by woven leaves that strained to contain their weight.
Incredibly heavy, they bounced softly with the slightest motion, the fabric doing little to restrain their natural sway.
The dress hugged down her wide, fertile hips, perfectly accentuating the thick, plump curves of her ass, each cheek clearly outlined through the fabric.
"It is nothing, sister. I was simply admiring nature in its purest form." The druid said softly, casting a sweet smile as she turned to her sisters.
Slowly, she wrapped the cloak around her, concealing her enticing form from view before they all gradually descended into the forest, making their way toward the exit of Otherworld.
"Master, do you have any nine-" Chuck repeated for the tenth ti, trying to patiently ask Ricky who was busy in his own world.
"Huh?" Ricky asked again, his eyes scanning the roaring makeshift arena for a busty waitress, but finding none.
"Master, could you check?" Chuck asked once again, incredibly more patient with him than the rest of the players.
"Uhhhhh, no, I don’t have one," Ricky replied, glancing at his cards before scoffing at phisto and suddenly touching his face.
"Hey, you can still see my face, right?" Ricky suddenly asked, a flicker of worry crossing his features as he glanced at phisto.
"Yes, now quickly, it is your turn-" phisto urged, trying to keep Ricky focused and reassure him that his face was still visible.
"Acutally, you haven’t done your shot." Chuck interrupted sharply, producing a shot glass from thin-air as phisto tilted his head in surprise.
"What do you an-" phisto said innocently, placing a hand over his heart as if genuinely appalled at the thought of having to partake in alcohol.
"You said earlier that if you get a pair then you take a shot," Chuck reminded the demon, pouring the old whiskey into the shot glass.
"I didn’t say pair-"
"But you implied it." Chuck said, pushing the shot glass across the table.
"In good faith." Chuck added with a polite smile, cornering phisto, who returned the smile, though hatred simred behind his eyes.
Slowly, the ancient demon curled his crimson fingers around the molten liquid disguised as dwarven whiskey and raised it in a solemn toast.
"To good faith." phisto forced the smile to stay on his lips before tipping the shot glass back and swallowing it in one deliberate gulp.
3 pairs later,
POOF
phisto’s form flickered, briefly taking the shape of the snake from the story of Adam and Eve
POOF
Before snapping back to his demonic figure, his hand rising to cover his face in frustration.
Despite his insane alcohol tolerance, the rules of this world weighed heavily on him, binding his essence with invisible chains that no amount of brute force could break.
Here on Earth, or any mortal realm, his true form was shackled by ancient cosmic laws, limiting the unfathomable might he wielded in his native realm.
His strength, his speed, even his senses were muted, toned down to a shadow of their true potential.
It was as if his power was compressed, forced into a mortal-shaped vessel that strained under existence itself.
And yet, that was not all.
With every shot, phisto felt his ntal clarity dissolve, numbers and calculations that once ca effortlessly now swimming in a haze.
The ticulously ordered count of cards he had maintained crumbled beneath the relentless assault of the potent brew.
phisto was handling the whiskey better than anyone else, but paradoxically, it was starting to wear on him more deeply than the rest.
With four pairs already in hand, he held the lead despite his deteriorating ntal state, while Alexander sat quietly, clutching his cards with a dazed, unfocused expression.
"D-Do you think rmaids have sex?" Alexander wondered aloud, glancing over at Ricky, who suddenly realized the question himself.
"Oh my god, they don’t have holes!" Ricky laughed incredulously, unable to believe he never realized that before.
BAM
"MOUTHS!" Asterion shouted, slamming his fist onto the table to release so frustration.
"Oh yeah, they can still give blowjobs." Ricky nodded, fist bumping the minotaur while Alexander’s dilated eyes turned towards Chuck.
"Who are you again?" Alexander asked, tilting his head as the skeleton heaved out another deep sigh.
"I am Chuck, the dealer," Chuck introduced himself for the eighth ti to Alexander, the gerbil slowly nodding as if finally understanding.
"Okay, hit ," Alexander said, tapping the table and reaching for a card but Chuck simply shook his head.
Placing the cards just out of the gerbil’s reach, Chuck shifted his gaze to Ricky, who was busy trying to catch sothing unseen in the air.
"Master, it’s your turn," Chuck patiently instructed, gesturing toward Ricky’s hand, which the man had barely glanced at.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-" Ricky dragged the word out, hesitating as he tried to decide which card to ask for.
"Do you have any threes, Alexander?" Ricky finally asked, eyes flicking to his cards while Alexander scratched his head in confusion.
"I don’t know." Alexander muttered, glancing around, searching for the cards he was currently standing on.
"Alexander, then you check," Chuck said slowly, urgency creeping into his voice as he tried to speed things up.
"Okay." Alexander nodded, his eyes dilated and unsteady as he wobbled to his feet, clearly high and drunk, before grabbing a card.
"Is this it?" Alexander asked, holding the card up for everyone to see. Ricky squinted, furrowing his brows to get a better look.
Looking first at his own card, then at the one Alexander had flipped over, Ricky revealed they both actually held a three.
"Master, you’ve done it!" Chuck exclaid, clapping his bony hands together as the coven erupted into hysterical cheers from the sidelines.
What began as a serious wager for these witches and warlocks quickly devolved into a sort of show, with laughter erupting uncontrollably as they watched the ridiculousness unfold before them.
POOF
"Now, take your shot." phisto blipped, shifting into a snake before snapping back to his demonic form and pushing the shot glass toward Ricky.
"Hell yeah!" Ricky laughed, practically buzzing with excitent as he grabbed the glass.
"Master, shouldn’t you-"
"Oh, relax, Chuck. It’s all in good faith." phisto smiled wide, turning to the skeleton, who had no choice but to watch Ricky down the shot.
"WOOOOOOOOOOO!"
3 hour later,
The coven’s laughter echoed endlessly through the night, watching the ga of Go-Fish devolve into complete nonsense.
The only thing keeping the ga remotely on track was none other than Ricky’s most loyal servant.
Chuck, ever the dutiful skeleton, had found himself cast in the unfortunate role of reluctant babysitter, patiently herding the intoxicated players through the muddled rules again and again.
Alexander and Bucephalus were long out of the ga, having lost all their cards and with them, any motivation to care.
The only remaining players gripped the final four cards, their hands barely steady as they teetered on the edge of consciousness, completely sh*t-faced in their own unique ways.
Asterion clutched one card with hateful focus, his massive knuckles white as if he could crush whoever dared steal it from him.
phisto, in a perpetual loop of shape-shifting, kept catching his card mid-transformation.
And Ricky teetered on the brink of passing out, needing Chuck to constantly jolt him awake with impatient nudges and sharp taps to keep him in the ga.
Arena Go-Fish Scoreboard:
phisto: 17
Ricky: 14
Asterion: 10
Veredelt: 5
Bucephalus: 1
Alexander:0
However, it was phisto’s turn and all eyes, or at least the eyes that weren’t drifting into different plains of existence, were on him.
If the ancient demon managed to correctly guess who held the match to his final card, he would have the enough amount of points to concretely win the ga.
But in this exact mont, the great phisto, Lord of Lies, Ruler of Realms, and occasional poker cheat, suddenly lost the count of the ga.
"CO ON RED GUY, FINISH HIM!"
"NO MR. LUCIANO, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO TAKE THE LEAD!"
"ASTERION, YOU TRIED YOUR BEST!"
"C’MON SLICK, STICK IT TO HIM!"
"YOU SORT OF TRIED ALEXANDER!"
The coven’s booming cheers echoed in phisto’s ears, drowning out any clear thought.
He clutched his forehead, struggling to steady himself, but whenever he opened his eyes, the world around him shattered into colors that no human eye was ant to see.
"phisto, it is your turn." Chuck said politely, gently urging him on, as the old demon rely smirked in response.
Finally rembering the count of the deck.
"I-"
POOF
phisto suddenly shifted into the form of a snake, slithering around his card as he hissed softly in serpentine tongue.
POOF
After a mont, he morphed back into his demonic form, eyes gleaming with a knowing smirk.
"I understand everything completely." phisto said calmly, though he was completely unaware he had just transford.
"Asterion holds one card, I have one card, and Ricky has two." phisto continued, laying out the facts to Chuck as if delivering a villainous monologue.
"The only cards left are a pair of threes and a pair of eights," phisto smiled, revealing his card to everyone while keeping a sharp eye on Ricky to make sure he didn’t try to swap it.
"Now, can you guess where I’m going to look?" phisto asked, slowly turning away from Chuck and locking his gaze on Ricky.
"Ricky." phisto said calmly, watching the man who was intently staring at the ceiling.
"D-Do you see that?"
In that mont, when Ricky pointed above him, it wasn’t the ceiling he saw but a flood of visions with countless faces whispering his na, preoccupying his attention for the last hour.
It was as if, trapped in this haze, he couldn’t switch off the relentless focus on himself or shove it to the back of his mind.
"Ricky, do you have any threes?" phisto asked eagerly, already envisioning his victory as Ricky glanced at his cards.
But with his blackened eyes, Ricky’s gaze landed on the clear three in his hand, imdiately causing his brow to furrow in frustration.
It was obvious to phisto that Ricky held a three but the real question was whether Asterion knew he had an eight.
"No." Ricky gazed up, cheating instinctively as phisto laughed along with the coven while thinking it was so sort of joke.
"Ricky, I know that losing is a tough pill to swallow but-"
But then, phisto and the coven fell silent, their words caught in their throats as they watched Ricky lay down the pair of eights, playing cards he clearly shouldn’t have.
"Y-You-" phisto’s voice cracked, completely certain Ricky held a three and an eight, yet the reality before him shattered that certainty.
Desperation took hold as he snatched Asterion’s card and flipped it over, revealing the three that should have been his.
"I counted every card." phisto muttered, pressing a trembling hand to his forehead as if to pull his thoughts together.
But every ti he tried to focus, the count slipped away, muddled and distorted by the oppressive haze of dwarven whiskey that clouded his mind.
"Since there’s no pond left to fish from, Asterion, it’s your turn to choose." Chuck declared, eyes shifting to the minotaur.
With a grunt of frustration, Asterion jerked his card back from the table, then shot a hateful glance at phisto.
"Give your three!" Asterion barked angrily, glaring at phisto with fiery frustration while yanking away his three.
The old demon, however, just sat there quietly, his gaze lingering on the table as if lost in thought.
"And with the final score tallied, here are the results-"
Arena Go-Fish Scoreboard:
phisto: 17
Asterion: 11
Veredelt: 5
Bucephalus: 1
Alexander:0
"And with the addition of the pair of eights, the book is complete, leaving Ricky with 18 points and making my master the winner." Chuck announced, clapping his bony hands with enthusiasm though already expecting this outco.
The crowd erupted into hysterical laughter at how it all turned out, utterly drunk and no longer paying attention to the ga, lost in their own worlds.
"Oh, why so serious, phisto?" Ricky chuckled, slinging an arm around the demon’s shoulders.
phisto stood there, speechless once again, caught in disbelief at the man who so effortlessly unraveled him every ti.
With just a deck of cards.
"Here, let’s make a toast!" Ricky said, grabbing the whiskey and swirling the last few gulps in the glass.
"To favors!" Ricky cheered, wobbling backwards only for phisto to simply laugh and catch him.
"In good faith." phisto sighed softly, finally accepting his defeat as he took the bottle from Ricky and downed the last of the whiskey.
"CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!" Ricky egged him on, patting his back as phisto quickly finished the bottle.
anwhile, the coven had already begun to disperse, making their way out of the stands and continuing the party on their own, gradually leaving the seven players behind.
Alexander lay sprawled across the table, his dilated eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling.
Bucephalus stared down at his hooves, disbelief etched deep into his features as if struggling to accept he was truly a horse.
At the side, Asterion huffed with rage, ripping apart any nearby furniture in a desperate attempt to calm the storm inside him.
"Listen Chuck, Tchaikovsky’s operas are about ten minutes of fantastic music bogged down in three hours of boring nothingness-" Veredelt sighed, shaking his head in disdain at the very reason he always avoided attending those performances.
"Wait, you guys can see my face, right?" Ricky asked suddenly, glancing at phisto while touching his face, again.
The old demon pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated after having answered that question more than twenty tis already.
"Ricky, we can all see your-"
But despite phisto’s tired reassurance that his face was visible, Ricky slowly closed his eyes, letting the darkness settle around him for a mont.
Then, with a sudden blink, his eyes snapped open.
To completely different surroundings.
"Huh?" Ricky abruptly said, the scene completely changing as he looked down at his hand to see a rock clenched in his palm.
"Where am I?" Ricky asked out of the blue, blinking as his hazy vision slowly cleared though not to the drunken arena, but sowhere else entirely.
"You said that you needed so air and how you wanted to throw rocks at people, but all we could find was undead-" phisto clarified, wobbling in place as the drunken demon wound up his throwing arm with an exaggerated flair.
POOF
phisto, mid-throw, abruptly shifted back into a snake with a frustrated grunt as he slithered aimlessly across the ground in a lazy spiral.
Ricky didn’t even flinch, too used to the old demon’s changing at this point and instead, turned his gaze toward Asterion.
"ARGH!" Asterion roared, his muscles flaring as he hurled a massive boulder like it weighed nothing, striking one of Morgana’s skeletal workers squarely.
The poor skeleton shattered into a puff of dust and loose bones, its hamr still twitching where it landed.
SIGH
"The quality or tone of singing is valued over the actual ability to hear the words that are sung, and this will eventually kill the art form." Veredelt muttered bitterly, arms crossed as he sat beside one of Morgana’s charred skeletons.
The undead thing looked almost pitiful, its legs crushed beneath the weight of a misplaced boulder.
However even then, the skeleton tried to crawl away, clawing at the dirt with bony fingers, but every ti it made even the slightest bit of progress, Veredelt would casually drag it back by the spine.
"It’s so-...........round." Alexander whispered in awe, holding the smooth stone in his tiny paws as if it were so ancient relic.
He pressed it to his cheek, closing one eye and squinting with the other, utterly srized by the simple geotry.
Bucephalus sat beside him, legs folded awkwardly under his body, his own dilated pupils staring not at the stone, but at Alexander.
"Sssssssssssso Ricky, what is it you want?" phisto hissed, slithering up beside him in his serpent form, his tongue flicking out with every other word.
"What do I want?" Ricky seemingly repeated the question, the words drifting out of his mouth as he plopped down next to the coiled snake.
"Lot’s of stuff, I guess." Ricky muttered absentmindedly, his eyes fixed ahead where Asterion continuously hurled boulders at Morgana’s skeletons who just wanted to rebuild Calot.
"I sssssssssee," phisto hissed softly, the sound like silk sliding over stone as he slithered closer to Ricky rubbing his head..
"Lissssssten, the favor-" phisto began, his serpent body swaying slightly, his voice slurred from both intoxication and the ethereal high he’d taken on earlier.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it." Ricky waved a lazy hand in the air, cutting him off mid-hiss.
Ricky stood there for a mont, taking a long, slow drag of breath as he watched Asterion crush another skeleton with a boulder.
He patted his pockets, fishing out a cigar, then clipped the end with a quick flick before lighting it.
"You got kids, phisto?" Ricky asked casually, puffing the end of his cigar a few tis to get it going just right.
POOF
phisto’s form flickered, shifting into his full demonic self as he settled beside Ricky with a dark chuckle.
"Three, with each one hating in their own way." phisto explained, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face as he rembered the furious expressions when they all tried to kill him.
"You know, I just had a kid. Another one." Ricky said, turning to phisto and handing him the cigar, which the old demon took without hesitation.
"I presu it’s the child from Lilith-"
"Nah, it’s actually the one with Raven." Ricky corrected phisto, clearing up the confusion before he looked up at the night sky.
"Raven gave him this really gay-ass na, but I’m gonna call him Thrawn," Ricky said, patting himself down again before realizing he also had a joint.
"Anyway, you wanna be his godfather?" Ricky decided to just ask, skipping all the mushy stuff and getting straight to the point.
"Is that why you summoned ?" phisto asked, swapping the cigar for Ricky’s joint and taking a deep drag.
"Yeah, basically." Ricky shrugged, puffing the cigar as he leaned back.
"Listen-"
phisto was about to decline being Thrawn’s godfather until he caught a glimpse of Veredelt, rambling to a skeleton about his opinions on German opera.
That unexpected distraction made the demon pause, causing him to reconsider and truly ponder what it implied.
Not about Thrawn.
Not about the responsibility.
No, what phisto started to think about was Veredelt.
More specifically, the decision Veredelt had made when he agreed to be godfather to Lilith’s soon-to-be twins.
He’d known Veredlet since the fall of Atlantis.
And in all that ti, phisto had never seen him make an irrational choice since those were always left to his master, Varane.
Veredelt was the quiet one, the overthinker, and the one who usually needed pushing to act at all.
So the fact that he had stepped into Ricky’s circle and made himself a part of his life, truly ant sothing.
phisto figured Vredelet wouldn’t make a move like that unless there were real benefits, ones that were hard to pass up.
Still, even then, phisto hadn’t expected Veredlet’s gamble to actually work.
And yet now, sohow, that decision had paid off with the paths that rlyn’s research would soon open up, all because Veredlet had seen sothing in Ricky when he first beca the Black Knight.
phisto stared at him now with a flicker of envy.
He couldn’t understand how Vredelet saw that potential in Ricky so early and how he’d made the right move while phisto hesitated in trying to scam him.
And slowly, it began to settle in.
RIP
The thought of aligning himself with Ricky lingered in phisto’s mind while knowing full well that, beneath the surface, trouble was inevitable whenever Ricky was involved.
Yet, that worry was quickly ripped away by Shadow Broker’s tear of the page, shifting phisto’s focus instead to Ricky’s raw potential.
Unable to shake this feeling that Ricky was either the defining figure of this era or a footnote that he would rember with fondness and maybe a laugh.
"Very well, I accept." phisto said, twirling his mustache between his fingers as he extended his hand.
Ricky took a deep drag from his joint, then clasped phisto’s hand firmly, the demon’s smile twisting into sothing mischievous and knowing.
"Hey, you wanna see him?" Ricky unexpectedly asked, phisto thinking about it for a second before giving him a light shrug.
"Why not."
anwhile In New York,
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa~" A baby’s cries echoed through the Luciano manor, revealing itself to be Thrawn, wailing uncontrollably as tears stread down his smooth blue skin, his tiny body thrashing wildly in the crib.
Raven sat nearby, her fiery orange hair in a wild frizz, her clothes stained and rumpled from the endless attempts to soothe and feed him.
However, even if she didn’t want to, Raven had finally passed out from sheer exhaustion, unable to calm Thrawn no matter how desperately she tried.
Quite literally, Thrawn has been crying nonstop since exiting the womb.
So much so that everyone in the Luciano manor, even the Luciano family who were using the mansion as a headquarters until Ricky returned, were utterly exhausted.
Suddenly, a swirling green portal materialized, revealing Ricky and the gang standing behind it.
"Shhhhhh, we have to be quiet!" Ricky yelled in a whisper, stumbling into the room as the others behind him started to laugh.
"Shhhhhhh!" Ricky shushed, taking another hit of his joint then blowing it through the portal.
"I understand what books really an," Alexander whispered, slowly poking his head out from Ricky’s shirt pocket.
His tiny paws clung tightly to the fabric, pulling his dilated eyes to view as they shimred in a strange clarity.
Then, just as quickly, he slowly lowered himself downwards and slumped back into the pocket, disappearing entirely.
"Oh sh-"
Thud
Ricky couldn’t even get a cuss word out before he accidentally tripped on a random blanket, slamming hard onto the ground with a thud that shook the floor.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Thrawn’s cries grew even louder, his wails echoing through the manor like a siren of war.
Yet to Raven, it had all beco nothing more than white noise as her head slumped against the crib as she snored softly, completely out cold.
"Ugh, my head~" Asterion groaned, stumbling through the portal like a wounded soldier returning from battle.
His massive hand slapped against the wall for support, horns tilting slightly as he tried to catch his balance, the thumping in his skull echoing louder than Thrawn’s cries.
"That is why Madama butterfly is a truly overwrought ss of an Opera-" Veredlet muttered, attempting to corner phisto into another one of his one-sided critiques.
But the old demon had already picked up his pace, eyes fixed forward as if the crying baby was a better conversation partner than him.
Left alone once again, Veredlet blinked at the silence that followed, his thoughts echoing louder than his words.
He glanced around until his eyes landed on Bucephalus, who had exited the portal and suddenly plopped his butt onto the ground.
Forgetting he was a horse and not a dog, Bucephalus dilated eyes looked onward while waiting for his treat as the old vampire slowly walked next to him.
"As to why I hate Madama butterfly, the piece itself encourages overacting-" Veredelt continued his rambling, lost in a world that seed populated solely by opera critiques.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Veredelt’s words faded beneath the relentless wails of baby Thrawn, who tossed and turned in his crib as Ricky flicked the joint into the portal and sealed it shut.
"He’s cute," phisto remarked softly, stepping up beside Ricky to peer down at the restless infant.
"Yeah." Ricky replied with a warm smile, the haze of drink and drugs doing nothing to dull the genuine love shining in his eyes for his son.
Ricky leaned over the crib, his fingers still reeked of alcohol as they gently traced the smooth blue skin of his son.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Ricky’s face, relieved and quietly proud that Thrawn took after his mother rather than inheriting his own features.
phisto raised a brow, watching intently as the emphatically crying baby gradually quieted, soothed by the simple, tender touch of his father.
"Can you believe I had a hand in creating this?" Ricky grinned, flashing his toothy smile as he turned to phisto.
"I’m just glad he takes after his ma instead of my mug since only I get to rock this face." Ricky joked, gently wrapping his fingers around the calming infant before lifting him carefully into his arms.
"Ba baba~" Thrawn murmured softly, finally settling into a calm state as phisto quietly observed the tender mont.
"Hey buddy." Ricky whispered, gently rocking Thrawn back and forth in his arms.
Slowly, the baby’s eyes fluttered open, revealing a striking, deep scarlet red that made Ricky’s breath catch.
"Coooooool~" Ricky suddenly gasped, his eyes widening as his infant’s eyes opened, revealing glowing scarlet eyes.
The pupils were a lighter shade of red, their inky black centers fixed intently on him while the baby’s tiny blue hands reached out, grasping for his father.
"Do you see my baby’s eyes? Look how f*cking aweso they are!" Ricky laughed, his voice filled with pride as he glanced up at phisto, who couldn’t help but notice the striking crimson glow too.
"I must admit, they are a very fierce color of red." phisto said with a rare, genuine smile, nodding toward Thrawn.
A big part of phisto’s complint lay in their matching hues as the baby’s eyes and the demon’s own skin were almost the sa fierce shade of red.
"You wanna hold him?" Ricky asked, shoving Thrawn toward phisto’s face as the old demon instinctively raised a hand.
"I am fin-"
"Oh don’t be such a pussy." Ricky scoffed, practically pressing Thrawn into phisto’s arms as the baby’s eyes welled with tears the mont he was released from his father’s grasp.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Thrawn’s cries pierced the room, his tiny fingers scrunching desperately toward Ricky.
The reason the infant felt so comfortable in Ricky’s arms was because of the mark branded onto him at birth from the whispering void.
If Ricky carried a tether to this world, Thrawn’s mark was like a fresh tattoo, aching and itching fiercely.
So much so that the newborn’s first real comfort since being born ca from the powerful, nurturing connection the whispering void had with Ricky, a tether that cald the infant’s restless mark.
Ricky couldn’t grasp the intricate, painful complexities of the Netherworld and its tangled void realms but phisto understood all too well.
"I suppose I should act in my godfatherly duties." phisto sighed, plucking a strand of hair from Ricky’s head.
Ricky rubbed his scalp absentmindedly, barely noticing as the hair in phisto’s palm began to shimr and shift with magic.
Slowly, it started to morph into a small, black demon plushie, woven from the very essence of Ricky’s hair.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Imdiately, Thrawn’s crying ceased the mont the stuffed animal was placed into his tiny fingers as the infant slowly opened his eyes, a soft giggle escaping his lips.
"Ba~" Thrawn cooed, clutching the plush toy tightly as phisto gently handed him back to Ricky.
"Huh?"
Raven murmured softly from the side, the white noise suddenly disappearing which caused her to rub her tired eyes as she took in the unexpected sight before her.
"What are you-wait." Raven’s bloodshot yellow eyes suddenly froze, locking onto the scene just as the other intruders turned their attention toward the overwheld mother.
"Surpise~" Ricky laughed softly, a warm smile spreading across his face as Raven slowly pushed herself up and took a few steps closer.
Her gaze fell on Thrawn, clutching the black demon stuffed animal tightly, and sothing softened within her.
"Baby." Raven’s voice was soft, almost trembling as she held out her hand and Ricky didn’t hesitate, gently placing the infant Thrawn into her arms.
A heavy sigh escaped Raven’s lips as she cradled their child close with one arm, freeing the other.
SLAP
Without hesitation, Raven’s hand cracked sharply against Ricky’s cheek.
He didn’t resist and turned his head deliberately, giving the slap more sting as a crooked grin played across his lips.
"We’ll talk later." Raven whispered dangerously, her finger jabbing sharply at Ricky’s stupid grin before she turned her icy gaze toward phisto.
"phisto, first of all, I want to convey my thanks for the stuffed animal." Raven said, turning to the ancient demon with a tone that suggested familiarity and maybe a hint of wary respect.
"Yes, well, it’s the least I can do as the child’s godfather." phisto replied with a sweet smile, fully aware that his choice of words would only infuriate Raven and, as usual, he was right.
Raven’s eye twitched ever so slightly, a telltale sign of her irritation as she turned her sharp gaze back to Ricky.
"Surprise?" Ricky forced a smile, followed by a stiff laugh, then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
Raven simply stared at him aggressively with her tired eyes, barely rested from less than an hour’s sleep, drilling her gaze into Ricky with unyielding intensity.
"phisto, always a pleasure." Raven acknowledged the demon, grinding her teeth as her gaze shifted back to Ricky.
"Raven." phisto smiled warmly, nodding in her direction before snapping his fingers with a subtle flourish.
A red portal shimred in the nursery, its edges flickering as it opened to a ho dinsion.
A place where countless anguished souls wailed in eternal tornt, their distant screams faintly bleeding into the room like a haunting hum.
"I’ll take this as my cue to make an early exit, and Ricky." phisto said with a warm smile, waving casually to the others as his eyes settled on Ricky with a knowing gleam.
"It’s been fun, but rember, if you ever want to strike a deal, you know where to find ." phisto laughed, stepping into the red portal before vanishing into thin air.
The mont the demon disappeared, an uneasy silence settled over the room as Ricky quickly moved to Raven’s side, gently reaching out to soothe her.
"Raven, baby, I-"
"Not."
"Another."
"Word."
Three words, each punctuated by a heavy pause, cut through whatever Ricky was about to say before giving Raven the entirety of the floor.
"I understand what you went through, I really do." Raven held up her hand, stopping him cold, her gaze sharp and filled with a hatred so deep she couldn’t et his eyes.
"But I can’t deal with you or any of your shenanigans right now." Raven sighed, sinking into a nearby chair and leaning back with a heavy exhale.
"Okay." Ricky said quietly, knowing full well he was pushing his luck just by being here in this state but all he really wanted was to see his kid.
However, even in her furious state, no matter how hard she tried to hate Ricky, there was this undeniable force tugged at her heart whenever she stared at him, like an invisible magnet pulling her closer.
That’s why, when Ricky opened his arms and t her gaze with a softness that cut through her defenses, the pull settled deep into her bones.
She fought to conceal it with a sharp roll of her eyes, but slowly, almost begrudgingly, she pushed herself up and shuffled toward him, cradling Thrawn gently in her arms.
"I love you." Ricky whispered, the faint burn of alcohol lingering on his breath as Raven’s tired eyes t his.
"You’re the worst-" Raven started, but Ricky cut her off by leaning down, capturing her lips in a long, passionate kiss.
When he finally pulled away, Ricky’s fingers lingered, his thumb gently tracing the smooth curve of her beautiful blue cheek.
"I gotta go. Ricky murmured suddenly, pressing his forehead softly against hers as she chuckled softly.
"We’re still going to talk later." Raven said, her deadpan expression snapping back in place, cutting through the mont like a blade.
"Uh huh, we’re gonna talk alright~" Ricky laughed, slicking his hair back and winking at Raven who rolled her eyes once again.
"I’m serious Ricky, I’m going to sit-"
"On my face, boom!" Ricky shouted, pumping a fist mid-laugh as he dashed toward the glowing portal he’d just opened.
"Still got it." Ricky chuckled, dragging the others behind him as they tumbled out of the makeshift nursery and into the closing portal.
BAM
"Was that Slick? WAS HE JUST HERE?!" Lucky burst through the door, his bloodshot eyes wild with frustration.
"You just missed him," Raven said with a smirk, watching Lucky’s furious expression shift as he clenched his fists.
"I swear to the Lord Almighty, when I get my hands on him, I’m gonna-.....URGH!" Lucky muttered under his breath, imagining his hands tightening around Ricky’s neck before a frustrated grunt escaped him.
The green portal cracked open though not in Otherworld, but to the looming silhouette of Dracula’s old castle.
Stone towers pierced the mist that always seed to plague the castle, and Ricky erged with Veredlet’s arm slung over his shoulder.
The castle guards imdiately held out their weapons, baring their fangs at the intruder until they almost imdiately flinched.
"M-M-Mr. Luciano-" One of the vampire sentries stamred, clearly unsure whether he was even qualified to speak Ricky’s na, much less question his presence.
"Tag." Ricky said, lifting his hand with a casual smirk as the guard imdiately furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Who-" The guard began, only to choke on his words as his eyes landed on Veredelt, the second most powerful vampire, hanging limp over Ricky’s shoulder while mumbling sothing to himself.
"You’re it." Ricky tapped him on the chest and let Veredelt slide off with a dull thud, stepping through the portal without another word.
"I’m it?" The guard asked, baffled, glancing at his comrade who looked just as lost until Veredelt raised his gaze.
"Do you think La Fanciulla del West is a good composition?" Veredelt slurred, his bloodstained face lifting with a lopsided grin, eyes hazy yet oddly focused on the gatekeeper.
"Y-Yes?"
"I concur, I think it’s brilliant-"
The one-sided conversation droned on, but the green portal fizzled out only to abruptly flicker back to life in the backyard of Raven’s house.
Ricky’s head poked through first, scanning the area for anyone and after seeing it was clear, he casually hurled the thoroughly high Bucephalus through.
The horse tumbled end over end, landing flat on his back with all four legs sticking stiffly in the air.
His pupils, blown wide and glassy, stared up at the stars in silent awe just as the portal snapped shut behind him.
The portal reopened in Otherworld, its green light swirling as Ricky stepped through, followed by Asterion clutching his head in a groggy daze.
Together, they erged once more at Castle Le Fey, appearing on one of the many balconies overlooking the grand city of Calot.
"Ricky, might I borrow a mont of your ti to discuss sothing?" Asterion asked the instant they stepped through the portal, his voice still laced with the faint grogginess of reeling in from that whiskey.
"Sure, but let’s speed it up cause I-"
"I think this is where we part." Asterion suddenly said, turning his head to Ricky who was caught off guard.
"Wha-huh?" Ricky, completely caught off guard and still sort of high, stopped smoking his cigar.
"I think it’s ti for to truly see what life has to offer." Asterion smiled, turning his gaze to the vast sky the balcony was ant to reveal.
"But we just kicked rlyn’s ass and f*cking took over Calot, that ain’t life enough for you?" Ricky made a joke to cover his baffled tone, walking up beside Asterion, who leaned onto the balcony and turned his eyes to what he first thought was a rock.
However, instead of answering Ricky right away, he reached out and carefully grasped the object between his fingers.
"When you pulled out of that tomb, I was hopeless." Asterion began, shifting the tone of the conversation and sharing his genuine feelings with Ricky.
"I had spent centuries in a solitude of mories that would have surely driven into madness." Asterion let out a faint, bitter chuckle, the sound almost swallowed by the heavy silence around them.
Because Asterion understood all too well what his life would have beco if he had remained locked away in Dadedul’s tomb.
For good reason.
In the original tiline, if Ricky hadn’t stumbled upon him, rescued him from that endless darkness he misplaced for comfort, Asterion would have continued to rot in isolation.
Trapped within his own mind, endlessly reliving mories long past, until those echoes beca the only thing he was.
Slowly, in that darkness, the gentle demi-god would have been consud by the very rage that made him so powerful.
Left unchecked, to simr for a couple more decades, and it would have twisted him into sothing monstrous.
He would have beco nothing more than a mindless minotaur, a tool for villainous forces, summoned and discarded like a weapon without will or purpose.
Asterion would go on to be reanimated ti and again, a prisoner of his own fury and despair while fulfilling the whims of everyone except his own.
He would live, but a life that was not his own.
"Then you just appeared."
"Out of nowhere, you shined a light down upon , one I thought I had lost long ago in that darkness I had hidden myself in." Asterion gently said, turning his gratitude towards Ricky who simply listened quietly.
"And in the ti I’ve known you, it’s been an adventure like no other," Asterion whispered, his voice carrying a fervent appreciation he had never before reserved for anyone, not even Daedalus.
"But after that fight with rlyn, I realized sothing." Asterion muttered, recalling the mont Ricky collapsed onto his knee, staring off into the distance.
"I wasn’t rely living my life, I was assisting you in yours."
In that quiet mont, watching Ricky’s breath even out with his face planted in Calot’s rubble, Asterion understood sothing profound.
During the week Ricky lay unconscious, Asterion spent every mont lost in self-reflection.
It was as if he was searching within himself over and over, questioning his certainty and yet every ti, the sa answer echoed loud and clear in his mind.
He was ready.
Ready to step beyond the mories that had haunted him for centuries.
Ready to build a life, his own life, and fill it with new mories.
Tears pricked the corners of Asterion’s eyes at the realization, and for once, he did not fight them.
They stread down the minotaur’s eyes, dropping onto the balcony because this was real.
The star, the sky, and the sight of the city of Calot, was all completely real.
Asterion had been so consud by what had happened in the past, he had forgotten how to see the present.
To rely be alive.
In this ti with Ricky, he learned the most valuable thing that he would cherish for the rest of his life.
Asterion learned how to live again.
"The revelation I felt in that mont sparked sothing new inside , sothing I need to explore for myself." Asterion sniffled, rubbing his eyes as Ricky patted his back, trying to comfort the demi-god.
"I want to see all the wonders this big, beautiful world has to offer, and I feel like I have to start now." Asterion laughed, looking towards the horizon for what it was that life had in store for him.
"And I think, deep down, you understand as well." Asterion finally said, turning toward Ricky, who was wrestling with sothing he refused to share.
"Do you rember our talk about the beauty of struggle?" Asterion asked, his mind drifting back to the conversation they had when Ricky visited Eddy’s and Rocco’s graves.
"Uh, sort of?" Ricky scratched his head, not really rembering but not wanting to be a jerk.
"What do you suppose is in this cocoon, Ricky?" Asterion wondered aloud, gently grabbing the twitching cocoon as Ricky raised an eyebrow and shot him a side-eye.
"I don’t know, a butterfly?" Ricky shrugged, answering to the best of his knowledge of creatures who live in cocoons.
"No, it’s more beautiful than that." Asterion said softly, gently caressing the hard exterior as it twitched ever so often.
"It’s a moth cocoon."
"You see, butterflies get all the attention in the world but moths spin silk, they’re stronger, faster, and this moth is in there right now." Asterion gestured, holding the cocoon closer to Ricky, who simply tagged along, unsure where exactly this conversation was headed.
"It’s about to erge, but it’s still in there, struggling, trying to dig its way through the thick hide of the cocoon." Asterion narrated, describing what was currently taking place within this marvelous transformation of life.
"Now, I could help it," Asterion said with a gentle smile, gesturing toward the cocoon with his finger.
"I could gently pry the hide away, and the moth would be free," Asterion said though strangely enough, he didn’t.
Instead, he placed the cocoon back on the railing where he had originally found it.
"The moth would be free." Asterion continued, his voice tinged with quiet sorrow.
"But it would be too weak to survive." Asterion smiled, nestling the cocoon into place with care before turning back to Ricky.
"Struggle is nature’s way of strengthening it, of strengthening you." Asterion said genuinely, his eyes resting on Ricky who, at long last, seed to be peeling away from his own cocoon.
"We all struggle and it can be tiring at tis, exhausting even." Asterion said softly, watching the difference in Ricky.
Asterion rembered how worn he looked when he first arrived in Otherworld and now, he stood before him brimming with life.
"But it’s in the beauty of struggle that we co to truly appreciate what it ans to fly." Asterion continued, his voice gentle as his words echoed into the still air just as the cocoon beside them began to slowly pry itself open.
"Ricky, you showed what it ant to be alive, truly alive." Asterion sniffled, placing a hand on Ricky’s shoulder while speaking directly from the heart.
"No one will ever understand what your simple words that day ant to ," Asterion said, his voice breaking since Ricky didn’t even rember what he had said.
Ricky had spoken to Asterion on a whim, forgetting them the mont after.
But to the Asterion, those few words were everything.
In those fragile, quiet monts of doubt, they were the only thing he had to hold onto.
Sothing Asterion cherished so deeply that re words could never truly express it.
"But you don’t need anymore, Ricky." Asterion said with a sad, knowing tone as he gently pulled his arm away, the gesture tender and yet, final.
"You finally understand what it is you need to do."
Asterion had seen it earlier that day, when Ricky spoke those words ant only to ease his own worries.
Unaware that they had beco the assurance the minotaur needed to finally spread his wings.
And strangely, in that very mont, even Ricky understood exactly what Asterion was feeling, without a single word needing to be spoken.
"I can’t see what it is you’re trying to hide from everyone, but for the first ti since I t you, oddly enough, you were as whole as I’ve ever seen you, right after your fight with rlyn." Asterion gently added, knowing full well how deeply flawed Ricky had been and how much he had grown in that ti.
"I don’t fully understand what you saw, but it made realize that you’ll be fine without ." Asterion smiled warmly, certain now as he t Ricky’s smile.
"Is that what you’re telling yourself when you’re abandoning ?" Ricky joked, only for the minotaur to take it seriously.
"Of course not, I truly cherish you as my friend-"
"Ha!" Ricky laughed, setting the joint down from his lips and shaking his head.
"Aye man, you don’t have to explain, I was just busting your balls." Ricky said, stepping closer and motioning for Asterion to co over.
"We gotta do what we gotta do, and I’m just relieved you saved my ass before taking off." Ricky joked, watching as Asterion lowered himself to pull him into a hug as he buried his face into the soft white fur of the minotaur.
"I hope you find what you’re looking for out there," Ricky murmured, his words muffled against Asterion’s chest as the minotaur chuckled softly, patting his back.
"You as well." Asterion smiled, feeling Ricky pull away as their eyes t one last ti.
"Do you need so help getting to wherever it is your trying to go-"
"No, I actually ca across this while I was wandering through the castle." Asteiron said with a tinge of excitent, pulling out a scroll he just so happened to have on him.
"It’s a random teleportation scroll, and I want to see where it takes ," Asterion said, already imagining the far-off lands it might open to him.
"Hey, before you go, I still need a godfather for and Rachael’s kid." Ricky realized, deciding to simply ask him before he just disappeared.
"I would be honored to take on such a role." Asterion said genuinely, patting Ricky’s shoulder before stepping back.
"If you ever need , all you need to do is call out and I shall co to your aide." Asterion said with quiet finality, his eyes filled with deep admiration as he looked at Ricky.
"Sa."
"Goodbye, Ricky." Asterion’s voice grew hoarse, a tear slipping free as Ricky saluted him as the minotaur slowly tore the scroll in two.
"See ya later, big fella." Ricky laughed, waving at Asterion, who vanished as suddenly as he had appeared in his life.
For a long ti, Ricky simply stood there, the weight of everything Asterion had done for him settling heavily in his chest.
mories flickered through his mind with every sacrifice, each word of wisdom, and every quiet mont of support.
The minotaur had unknowingly beco more than an ally; he had been a guide, and unexpectedly, a friend.
"Well, would you look at that?" Ricky muttered, eyes fixed on the cocoon as it slowly split open.
Then, the moth erged, wings unfolding before it took flight and soared upwards, disappearing into the distant sky.
"Aye, Alexander, you there?" Ricky asked, fishing into his pocket to find the gerbil completely passed out.
"Good ’cause this is sothing I wanna do alone," Ricky muttered to himself, patting his pocket before opening the portal.
Arriving at Morgana’s dungeon, Ricky finally reached the place where he intended to close this Chapter of his life for good.
"Aye, rlyn, you ready?" Ricky called out, stepping through the portal as rlyn had been ordered earlier to gather a large amount of torture equipnt in preparation for this exact mont.
"I don’t have much of a choice, so yes, I am," rlyn hatefully replied, standing aimlessly at the side while waiting for a command.
"First, let’s start with the appetizers," Ricky laughed, glancing over at Eldric sitting quietly behind the bars as he slowly opened his eyes.
"Well, go on Eldric, tell what got your panties so twisted earlier."
Author’s Note: added what the busty druids looks like and I’ll put pics of the others when they co into play.
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