A pair of teens make small talk as they stroll through Inkblot Art Academy. A very usual sight in the Academy. No one would expect that neither of them had ever actually attended classes in this establishment.
"Just explain it one more time."
"No."
"I'm sorry, I'll get it this time."
"It doesn't even matter."
"Please."
Crayon looked at Chalk with pleading eyes, and he couldn't refuse her.
"…Just ONCE more."
"I'll REALLY focus this time. So why did he give you all of his money?"
"I used intimidation. Judging by the effort he put into concealing his whereabouts, he was aware that he was involved with some dangerous people. Probably not just Pens either. But he wasn't paying those people either, so in a way, he thought he was safe as long as no one could find him. When I suddenly burst into his room, I shattered that mentality. Following that by telling him that Pens was out to kill the both of us, I cornered him."
"And Pens is your friend?"
"I wouldn't say that. He made me buy him dinner for collecting on that debt."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"For Pens, dinner is a major expense. But it was still worth it."
"So he REALLY did want to kill you?"
"It was just a bluff."
"…What was a bluff again?"
Chalk grabbed at a door and shot her a look of disappointment before opening it.
"It's a lie I told him so that he'd be more inclined to do what I want."
"Then why'd you say you were in danger too?"
"In a situation like this, it's more beneficial to seem like a friend than an enemy. If I offer him a safe way out, while Pens plays the role of villain, he won't be so resistant my suggestions. Get it now?"
Crayon squeezed her skull with both hands clearly struggling with the explanation.
"…Erm…maybe a little."
"I figured. We could just skip the explanation if it's too much for you."
"No way! It's my favorite part."
"Can't say I understand why, but we can save it for later. We're here."
Chalk stopped at the door of some kind of studio. The walls surrounding the door were coated with elaborate paintings in various styles. Crayon blushed like a berry as she viewed them as quite a few were of an obscene nature. Nude inklings spread out from the door frame like vines. It pained her to look, but they were so enrapturing that she couldn't look away.
Chalk raised his leg and slammed his heel into the door instead of knocking.
"Graffiti! Open the door!"
Crayon was so surprised that she briefly tore her attention away from the captivating images. She looked around nervously wondering if anyone heard that.
"Is this another shakedown?
"Shakedown? Relax. He's a business associate. You just can't get his attention unless you're loud."
Chalk kicked at the door again.
"Graffiti!"
Crayon was still concerned he was causing a disturbance but it didn't look like anyone was coming.
"Careful. You might break it."
"Stronger men than me have tried."
Chalk was just about to deliver another kick when a soft muffled voice spoke up.
"Who is it?"
"Chalk."
"…Hold on. I'll open it in just a second. Don't go anywhere."
"Just hurry up."
Chalk and Crayon stood outside the door for several minutes, Chalk growing increasingly impatient.
"What are we here for exactly?"
"Just picking something up. Be prepared for something really stupid when those doors open, by the way."
"Like wh-"
The door flung open. Music played as colorful lights streamed from several directions. Heavy smoke rolled from the door and a man stepped out from it as heart-shaped confetti rained down on him.
"Hello my friend, and welcome. How may I enlighten you today?"
The strange man wore a lab coat covered in a rainbow of stains and had a white mask covering his nose and mouth. His arms were stretched out and high, as if he were presenting himself. He lowered his head and looked at Crayon and Chalk expectantly. Crayon was more confused than impressed, but felt obligated to applaud nonetheless. The man was pleased with this reaction. Beneath the mask, his gleeful smile was clear, even as tears shined in his blue eyes.
Chalk rolled his eyes.
"Just get my stuff so I can leave already."
Graffiti reached out and shook Chalk's hand with both of his.
"Always straight to the business side of things. It's so good to see you."
He glanced over at Crayon with significantly less interest.
"Icing. It's been awhile. I didn't expect you."
Crayon pointed to herself with a quizzical expression.
"Me? I'm not Icing. Did she used to do her hair like mine?"
Graffiti chuckled lightly.
"My apologies. All women look alike to me. Don't take it personally."
Chalk snapped several times next to Graffiti's face to get his attention.
"My stuff. Remember why I'm here?"
"Oh, of course, of course. Come on in. I'll give the both of you a tour."
"We really don't have time for that."
"I insist. Allow me the privilege to be courteous."
He brought the two into his studio, and began showing off his various work areas and projects in progress. Crayon was troubled by the stunning sheer number of nude figures. She could barely keep her eyes uncovered and was practically glowing red. Meanwhile, Chalk was being unexpectedly quiet and compliant. Graffiti stopped to give a very detailed presentation about his inspiration for a particular painting and the importance of the message hidden in its context, moved to tears by his own speech. As he did this, Chalk went about poking into boxes strewn about the room. After some searching, he chanced upon a box labeled "Mr. Edgy".
He checked inside. Satisfied with the contents, he closed it back up and placed it into Crayon's arms.
"Take this. We're going."
"But he's still giving his tour."
Chalk put some money on a desk and picked up a box for himself.
"He won't even notice we're gone. Just go."
Sure enough, Graffiti continued to emotionally expound on worldly concept at great length, even as the pair made their way to the door. Leaving him alone made Crayon feel a bit guilty, but Chalk was already far down the hall and she didn't want to be left behind. And maybe a small part of her found Graffiti a bit overwhelming herself.
Chalk found his way to the center of campus, and threw the box down in the shade of a tree.
"Here seems okay."
Crayon placed her box down next to Chalk's.
"What's in these anyway?"
"Hats."
"They don't explode, do they?"
"…Huh. Not sure. But they're waterproof this time."
Crayon was rattled by the fact that her joke question was being taken so seriously, and she cautiously popped a box open.
"Oh my gosh! They're so cute!"
Crayon quickly snatched one up and placed it on her head.
"Did your friend make these?"
"Graffiti's not my friend. He just supplies me with weapons and gear to merchandise. He's not much of an engineer but I've never needed him to be. And I'm glad you like them."
He removed his usual beanie and replaced it with the green cap.
"You'll make a convincing salesman."
"We're gonna sell these?"
"Sure are."
"That sounds like fun!"
"Good. Keep that enthusiasm."
Chalk made a crude sign out of some cardboard, and they simply waited for an interested passersby to approach them. It wasn't long before one girl came right up to Crayon to inquire about the hats.
"Oh wow. Pink is my favorite."
"I know. They're so adorable."
"How much are they?"
Crayon was about to respond before she realized she didn't know the answer. She looked to Chalk for help. He crossed his arms with a smirk.
"2000 coins."
The girl paid and left with her purchase. Crayon thought that went over very well, but something seemed off. She thought for sure that there'd be more to this scheme than meets the eye, and yet Chalk barely said a word. It didn't worry her though. Spending the day selling possibly volatile hats with a friend sounded nice.
Time passed and two more customers bought hats from Crayon. Both were girls. Things were moving very slowly, but she had managed to collect 6000 coins in barely half an hour. To her, things were going well. She felt a little bad that Chalk wasn't selling any, but he was just lounging around after all. She had no idea that things were about to make a very dramatic shift.
Crayon spotted a lost looking young man frantically moving around the courtyard. He locked eyes with Chalk. Chalk waved at him and the young man ran right over. The young man stuttered as he spoke.
"H-Hey man. That's a starfish, right?"
He was pointing to a crude drawing Chalk had made on the sign. Chalk tapped at it.
"This? Sure is. Buying anything?"
"Green hat!"
Chalk kept a straight face, but his eyes had a happy glint to them.
"I think we still have some."
"I'll take the one you're wearing if that's cool. How much?"
"Relax. I'm sure we have others here."
Chalk leaned back and grabbed a green hat from the box and placed it in his lap before folding his hands over it. His eyes sharpened.
"That'll be 30000."
The customer was stricken by the price and visibly sweat in reaction. Crayon was confused, but afraid to say anything out loud. The green hats were nearly identical to the pink ones. Why did they cost 15 times as much? Why would anyone buy it for that much? She couldn't believe it when the young man actually forked over the payment and took his hat. Crayon watched the customer as he disappeared off in the distance. She could only barely contain herself. Once the coast was clear, Crayon shuffled over to Chalk.
"What did you do to that hat?"
"Nothing. It's just a hat."
"Then why did he just pay so much cash for it?"
"Because of its "special ability"."
"What special ability?"
"The one I made up."
Chalk had a wicked smile plastered on his face.
"I spread a rumor that a new type of unofficial gear makes you more likely to play against teams of less than 4 in the games. I let them know that I happened to get my hands on some and was selling a limited supply right here in Inkblot."
"And people believed, just like that?"
"Not everyone will buy it, but a small desperate minority will. Plus I kept the estimation pretty modest. Only a 3% increase in probability. It's small enough that they'll never be able to tell if it really works and just big enough to make them think it gives them an edge."
"How underhanded..."
"The best part is that anytime they fight a 3-man team just by chance, they'll convince themselves it was the hat."
Crayon didn't necessarily like being dragged into a nefarious plot, but she probably would have helped Chalk anyway if he'd just asked. But wait, why WAS she here? The pink hats didn't seem to factor into his plan at all. Maybe it was a backup plan. There just couldn't be that many people that would fall for his trick, so maybe he needed her to make money in case his big plan failed. Crayon reasoned this must be the case.
A new costumer arrives. He says he saw a girl wearing one of the hats and thought it looked pretty fresh. He asks Crayon for the price and she hands him a pink hat. He refuses it and asks for a green one instead. Crayon apologizes.
"I'm sorry but that one has a different price..."
"How much is the difference?"
"Umm. The green ones are 30000."
"What's with that?! What are they autographed?"
Chalk cut in.
"They're not your ordinary pieces of head gear. They have a very unique ability."
"Really? What is it?"
"You ever start a game when one of the teams has less than a full roster?"
"Uh, yeah. Who hasn't?"
"Well did you know that the matchmaking system uses a special algorithm to determine who fights against an incomplete team? These hats adjust one of the values used in that algorithm to make it more likely for your team to be chosen."
"Is that legal?"
"Heh."
Chalk leaned in to whisper to him.
"Not really, but it's not like it's really cheating. Someone has to fight those incomplete teams, right?"
"Where did you get these?"
"It's my secret. Interested?"
"I dunno. 30000 is a lot more than I thought I'd spend today, and I don't want to get busted. Can I think about it?"
"You can think about it for the rest of your life because I guarantee you these'll all be gone by tomorrow. That's why I already picked one out for myself. I've tried it. It really works."
"Do you think you'll ever get more?"
"Not a chance."
"Nnnnn…okay, I'll buy one."
"Smart man."
The customer tucked the hat into his coat and went on his way.
As the day went on, Crayon and Chalk sold more merchandise. Crayon sold the most, but the amount of money Chalk earned easily dwarfed what Crayon had. Their sales were few and far between in the beginning, but as time passed, buyers were coming more frequently. Almost all of them came to Crayon originally, but Chalk had a way of stealing them away from her. Later on, Crayon had sold nearly all of the hats she had, but she honestly felt like she had hardly contributed at all. When Chalk had a free moment, she took her chance to speak with him.
"Chalk, here's the money I collected so far."
"Great job. You've probably done enough for the day. Take a break. You've earned it."
She caressed the tips of her tentacles in low spirits, as she watched Chalk add her paltry sum to his overflowing cashbox.
"Sorry, I couldn't be more helpful."
"What are you talking about?"
Chalk shook his cashbox around.
"You were plenty of help."
"But barely any of it is what I gave you."
"You're missing the bigger picture. I wouldn't have sold half as many if you weren't helping out."
Crayon was sure he was just being nice. Chalk raised an eyebrow at her.
"I see you don't believe me."
Chalk stood up and stretch his back.
"You said you like when I explain things, right? Then listen up. I want you to take a look around and tell me how many people you see wearing a green hat."
Crayon scanned the area. There were students moving here and there. Some were bunched into groups or relaxing. Many were wearing one of her pink hats, or had one sitting nearby. Crayon's eyes widened.
"There aren't any."
"Finally noticed? Where could they all be?"
"Did they…explode?"
"That possibility is beside the point. These may just be ordinary hats, but to the buyer, they're contraband. And you don't wear illegal goods on your head."
"Oh. That makes sense. But I still don't see how I helped."
"Remember how I said I spread a rumor about the hats to attract customers? If I had to estimate, "I'd say roughly three marks today had actually heard of it. Gossip really isn't the best way to advertise. On the other hand, if everywhere you looked, you saw everyone wearing the same hat, you'd naturally get a little curious, right?"
"So the pink hats were like ads for the green ones?"
"Exactly. Once they came over to see what all the fuss was about, I offer them the better deal."
Crayon beamed with big liquid eyes.
"So then I really helped?"
"Of course. I wouldn't have involved you if I didn't think you could. But there was one other reason, but I guess it hardly matters now."
Just as Chalk had finished saying this, a very tall and broad man approached him from behind. He placed his hand heavily on Chalk's shoulder.
"Do you mind if I ask what you're doing here?"
Chalk had an anguished look on his face before turning around with a smile to face a very imposing officer.
"Didn't see you sneak up on me. We're just selling some handmade hats. Are we not supposed to be here?"
"Why don't you tell me? What's in the boxes?"
Chalk stepped back and opened up both boxes.
"Just hats. See?"
The policeman poked around in the boxes for a bit and peeked inside a few hats.
"What are you selling these for?"
"It's a sort of fundraiser, but we're not advertising it as one."
"Oh yeah?"
"It's for a personal reason, and I'd rather not make it other people's business. That's all."
"Really?"
The officer pointed to Crayon.
"You. What are you really… Wait. I recognize you. Didn't I see you kids in the alleys behind the Lobby the other day?"
Crayon tried to recall.
"Oh, you're the same cop from before. I just noticed that."
"Why does it always seem like you two are up to something weird?"
Chalk scratched at his temple.
"Umm, I don't think we're doing anything weird…"
The policeman glared hard and suspiciously at Chalk.
"How much do you sell these hats for?"
Crayon answered immediately.
"2000 coins."
The policeman's expression hardened somewhat as he turned his attention toward her.
"How much money have you two made?"
Crayon looked meekly shrunk back as he approached her.
"We haven't counted it yet."
"Then why don't you just show me?"
Chalk tapped him on his back, "I have the profits right here.", as he presented a cashbox.
Crayon bit at her lips nervously as the policeman took the box from Chalk and opened it. Coins clanged against the metal box as the man pushed his finger around the money.
"You kids did pretty well."
He handed the box to Crayon, still opened, and she could see there was considerably less money than she had seen before. She shut the box closed and looked towards Chalk who signaled at her with a wink.
The policeman rubbed his knuckle against his chin.
"So you're just selling hats, huh?"
Chalk cocked his head innocently.
"Uh, yeah. We've been doing it all day. Just ask anyone who bought one. They're all over."
"Hmm. You know, legally you need a license to run a business."
"I didn't know that. Are we in trouble?"
"…Nah. Just a thought I had. You kids just stay together and stay safe. There must be almost 60000 coins in there. Someone might try to take it."
"We'll be careful."
"Right. Right. Just in case we see each other again, I'm Captain Stamp of the Inkopolis Police Station. Sorry if I made you kids nervous. I was only looking out for you."
"No problem. We're okay."
The policeman left and Chalk decided to wrap things up soon afterward. Crayon frantically questioned him about the exchange later. He explained to her that the other purpose of Crayon's side of the business was to act as a cover for the more illegitimate half. It was easily to conduct his shady dealings if he had someone more genuine to hide behind. A second cashbox was prepared in case someone decided to take a look at their earnings. Chalk filled it with his pocket money. To him, these were merely basic precautions.
Crayon lay in bed that evening with her head spinning from the events of that day. It was so confusing, but exciting. So scary, but fun. She would've spent the whole night reliving the memory if she wasn't so eager to fall asleep so she could start the next day. It was becoming clearer to her that she and Chalk were extremely different people. He did crazy things that she would normally object to, but he sure was amazing. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe he was really her friend after all.
Meanwhile in a lonely old art studio, a young artist was screaming to an audience he hadn't yet realized wasn't there.
"In conclusion, my palace is rated A for Avant-garde! All ages welcome!"
He turned with dramatic flair and extremely short of breath. He faced the empty room for several seconds and closed his eyes with fulfilment.
"I've left him speechless once again."
