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chapter four – as far as the eye can see (part two)
Summary: "Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first one who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior." [Jack Frost and Elsa. Jelsa. AU.]
Prompt: The quote above, as in the one in the summary is from The Catcher in the Rye. The initial prompt is the fact that um, we live in a society that's clearly damaged but, I wanted something more. See, there's this manga based on the Pokemon games called Pokemon Special and/or Adventures. The arc for BW2 is really interesting and if you have any knowledge of it whatsoever, then you'll understand what I mean.
A/N: I've been so invested in my real life I've completely neglected my written life – I'm sorry. But like, seriously though, when school started, I hardly had any time to breathe. I tried really hard to balance my ginormous pile of schoolwork with my fandom stuff and then for some reason, this year I have so much of a social life I'm actually beginning to miss being a loner. So, yeah, I've been busy. I also have other addictions—which includes this j-drama I'm watching called The Liar Game and it is the best psychological piece of work I have ever come across. And because of that, I finally got motivated to write another chapter! If you've ever watched it, you'll see many references to it. Of course, this chapter is bundled with unexpected events, and many other revelations that continuously complicate things. HAVE FUN! :)
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all :)
"This guy—your senior?! Ha, you make me laugh."
"Boy, if you have such a wimp above you then you must be pretty shit, you old geezer."
"Some spy organization you are—letting the children ahead of themselves, as if that's going to stop us."
Jack was never fond of cocky people – although, Edmund would beg to differ seeing as such a claim would portray the young man's hypocrisy. Seeing the two gloating and laughing men really struck a nerve with Jack. They assumed that he's weak because he's younger and automatically less experienced but, he can guarantee you—inexperience isn't even a word to Jack's stake in the underworld. In a way, he may find these people's incompetence laughable.
Jack doesn't waste time—he never does. He's got the guys on the floor with his powerful kicks, and skillful maneuver of his stick, whilst Bunny disappears into the shadows, only for an explosion to occur half a second later.
The men are coughing up blood and smoke surrounds them. Not knowing where the two guardians will strike next, they carefully stood up, only to be hit on the head and tripped down to the floor again. More explosions occur, flames of bright white and pink lighting the dark alley the fought in.
"What the hell are those two?"
Another unseen attack and they're up against the wall – the burly staring right into Edmund's glaring emerald eyes, and the slender man cowers before Jack Frost.
"What do you want from us?!"
"We'll give you anything please—just don't hurt us!"
"Talk is cheap for guys like you—you don't even deserve to be in that fucking organization."
"Why are you here and what business does your boss want in Vegas?"
"We swear we're only here to investigate on the Southern Isles! That's all!"
"And why?"
"We don't know!"
"How can you investigate without knowing what for?"
"Hades doesn't tell us anything! We're low ranking lackeys and all he wants us to do is monitor what happens in this city between now until the end of the fest."
"Why the fest, specifically?"
"We told you, we don't know!"
Jack lets the slender man go in frustration, throwing him to the ground.
"Jesus fucking Christ, you're all a bunch of useless cunts."
He turns to the other guy and kicks him mercilessly, again and again. The burly guy is all bloody and begging with his partner beside him shaking in fear of Jack. Edmund stands aside, a blunt stuck between his teeth, and rolling his eyes.
"Mate, calm the fuck down, will ya."
The older man says in a lax but irate manner. He leans against the wall, blowing his smoke with small puffs and ashy dust falling to the ground. He finishes the stick and throws it to the ground, kicking the other man—the lesser looking of the two—preventing him from crawling away discretely. Jack continues to ignore him, continually beating up the lackey before him.
"Tell me where the fuck's your boss, fucking tell me now!"
"We…don't…know—"
The man half passes out, hardly breathing with blood all over. Jack never stops, and his hands shake. Because he's so goddamn frustrated he has no fucking idea what to do now. He thought he could get even closer to finding out the shit about this God of the underworld, but he couldn't. And it's all this man's fucking fault because he knows absolutely nothing about the bastard he fucking works for.
"Right mate, that's enough."
Kick, punch.
"Please stop, he's going to die!"
"Oi Frost."
Punch, kick, choke.
"NO! STOP!"
"Jesus Christ."
Edmund grabs Jack's wrists, and pulls him back, throwing him to the wall. The white haired boy tumbles and angrily growls, perfectly springing off the bricked wall and launches himself towards the older man. Edmund dodges and Jack attacks him with his stick, sweeping it across the ground, striking the metal trashcans that surrounded them. Edmund on the other hand, takes out his boomerang, made of flashy magnesium, potassium and glycerin(1)—the most dangerous weapons produced by The Guardians organization.
"If you want to have a go at me then come on Jack—just mind that I'm no forgiving person."
"Well neither am I, Buns."
They don't fight though, or take action. They just stand there, staring each other off. The two spectators – a half unconscious and bloody man sprawled on the floor, and his partner – sidelined and scared to make a move. The thick atmosphere pierced through their skins, carried by the polluted air of alcoholic breaths and the toxic smoke of marijuana. Surrounded by junk and trashcans, the small alleyway they stand in poses as the perfect battlefield between two comrades.
"Despite your rank and your skills, you're still a fucking child mate – with shit emotions that get to you."
"Are you really going to lecture me about my feelings when you're no better than me?"
"Please, I'm not the one prancing around and getting into girls' pants for the sake of fulfilling their damn hormones."
"Fuck sake Buns, you should know by now that I do that to find the female culprit."
"Aye then what about your foolish dependence on this festering hatred you have for that damn Hades to keep you on top? Think you're so good just because you have enough frustration in you to actually bother to kill someone?"
"Big talk coming from someone ranking lower than me. Ten years in this business and you're still not a bit better than the useless grunts we have at the headquarters."
Jack ends the conversation, abruptly walking away with his last statement hanging in the air. The two men on the floor look up at Edmund, not a hint of despair evident on his face – despite the hurtful words thrown between him and Jack. Instead, he groans, running a hand through his hair of grey and brown. He then proceeds to cuff the two men, sitting down on the brick wall beside them, and lighting up another cigar.
"That bastard sure knows how to get on my nerves." He blows a puff of smoke, before taking in another breath of the nicotine filled cancer stick. "Be thankful your partner's not a handful like him. It took the bosses a coupl'a years before they found him a suitable partner. Turns out, it was me. Heh."
Stick in between his fingers, he offers a blow to both men who reluctantly obliged, choking in their own inexperience.
"The boss is very fascinated in him. We were originally sent to keep an eye on him and him alone. But we're not good enough to tail after a guy like that."
"We even thought it'd be too easy."
"But today, you get your first impression is wrong—am I right?"
"Yeah."
Edmund stands up, gesturing to the two to do the same. And they follow, a hand each bound to the other. Edmund drags them around like disobedient dogs, still smoking his cigar. He escapes through a hiding in the small alleyway – a secret passage no one thought twice about. And if it weren't for the blood staining the tarmac ground and browning the red bricks, no other proof of such an encounter existed.
54321
"The shuffle for the next round has concluded. Players of chess, checkers, dices and cards, please proceed to your designated area. Announcements consisting of who your opponent will be, and how the games will carry on, will be made shortly. Good luck."
The speakers sound through the hall, players scattered across the waiting room, seated according to their schools. Elsa and Jackson stood up, movements synchronized as Merida, Hiccup and Flynn gave each other reassuring nods. Jackson silently walks away from the group, an aura of anger and frustration emit from his very presence. Elsa stands there staring after him, unsure of what's going on. But she silently shakes it off, and goes off on her own.
She arrives at the room, plain white surrounded with many geniuses that specialized in the complex game of chess. She has learned, due to her past three matches, that chess in this fest is more than just being clever and witty in the works of strategy games. It has a rather psychological nature bound to how the players choose to play the game. Although the rules never change – it was the same chess she always knew – the players were different—very different.
These guys weren't your normal chess players that stuck to the rules and focused on getting rid of your pawns and killing the king. No—these guys wanted more than that. They didn't want to show off their intellect by simply moving a few pieces and then magically ending up in a checkmate; these guys wanted to play with you – play with you enough to embarrass you. The aim isn't to win and hit checkmate—it is to deceive your opponent into playing their pieces by your hand, scheming to corner them into falling to your checkmate by their own faults.
There were six people in the room – currently. One monitor is displayed flat against the wall, presenting the challengers and who they will be facing. Kida Nedakh—that was her opponent.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Kida."
A beautiful girl with hair an elegant stream of white, and eyes bluer than her own, stood before her, chocolate hand offered in a friendly handshake. Elsa takes it, a polite smile sent her way as they shook hands.
"I'm Elsa."
"You're very beautiful."
"So are you."
"Please go easy on me."
"And please, go easy on me."
The formalities ended between the players and the series of games began. With six players left, it was an even three of one on one matches, with her match played last. The round is more private compared to all the other games she has played so far. The room involved no audience and no timings; it was just silent plotting amongst the contenders and no one is expecting a definite outcome. Pawns are being traded everywhere, schemed sacrifices for something even bigger. Queens are unleashed at a later stage, and the knights come and go.
It was the semi-finals and ultimately a big deal. If you cannot win in this last match for a place in the finals, you cannot recover, and you don't get a prize. So Elsa watches as the games progress. She sees the nervous breakdown among the players, pressure evidently getting to them. She sees false smirks and genuine winning smiles, every move you make dangerously accused as a tactic to win over your opponent.
She knows she's good at lying. She knows she can play chess. She knows she's good at mind games and manipulating people. It was everything she ever knew but, that was the life she longed to run away from. To suddenly be pulled back into a world of everything she detested ever doing, was uncanny. But despite all the negative thoughts, there's a thrill inside her that she cannot shake off. And the blood of a spy runs through her veins and knows exactly when she hits home.
"Elsa Arendelle of Corona Sin Clair, and Kida Nedakh of Southern Isles, please step forward."
The referee calls out and Elsa stares at the empty seat, silently inviting her. Kida proceeds to sit down on her own chair, hands gracefully placed on the table, and a calm expression formed by her face. Slowly, Elsa sits down as well, and the coin is tossed to decide who plays white and who plays black.
"Heads."
Kida calls out, and the coin lands in a noisy drop, clattering against the glass chessboard. It lands tails and a small bell tings to indicate the start of the game. Quickly arranging her chess pieces, Elsa is quick to move a pawn two steps forward, and Kida follows right after, a knight moved to an upright L. Elsa moves another pawn, the one in the far right, and Kida moves her knight again. Another white pawn is moved, followed by a black pawn directly across it. Two more steps forward and Elsa could've taken the knight—but she didn't. Instead, she follows up with another pawn positioned at the left in front of her bishop.
"You seem to be moving at random. Are you sure you shouldn't have taken my knight?"
"You and I both know that losing the pieces isn't the main objective here. I'm sure to get this far, you have probably picked it up—the truth of how to play this game."
"Ah yes, but I doubt I can trick someone like you."
The comment makes Elsa waver for a second, but she does not express the daze in her mind. Instead, she continues to move her pawns, allowing Kida access to an exchange between a pawn and her knight.
"I can read you, Elsa Arendelle. You're not going to move anything, unless your pawns die out."
"In chess, the pawns go first(2)."
Across the other side of the building, Jack stands with four people, a man in his late thirties stood on the podium, looking down on them. The room is surrounded with roulette tables and poker chips all stacked in piles scattered across the room. The man before them is tall and slim, white hair with a few black strands, and black rimmed glasses over his light green eyes. He has a very firm stare and lips formed into a thin smile of conceit.
"Welcome, card players."
"Hey."
Jack is lazy in his greeting, but it doesn't seem to bother the man. Instead, he gives a soft smile and walks off the podium, and down from the stage. He walks around the room, index finger pushing up the bridge of his glasses. He looks to the left, and the right, three boys and a girl staring at him as he inspects each and every table of the room.
"My name is Mr. Peabody, I am one of the two referees for this round."
"What's the game going to be? We all know who we're up against, anyway."
"Ah, yes—it was announced earlier in the bulletin board, was it not?"
"Yeah."
"Corona Sin Clair against Southern Isles, and Duloc Castle against Maldonia of New Orleans."
The mention of the schools snaps Jack out of his trance, and he looks up towards Mr. Peabody, eyes alert and tired.
"Did you just say Maldonia?"
"Yes, that's my school."
A boy of fifteen, dark skin and brown hair, answers mischievously. He grins at Jack and his green eyes shine in a clever wit that reflects Jack's own naughty ways. He could've cracked a smile, right then and there, but he didn't. That place—Maldonia—is hook, line and sinker enough to capture Jack's interest.
"I can't wait to play you then—?"
"Ralphie Kings."
"Ralphie Kings."
"And what makes you so sure you'll play him, huh, Overland?"
The tone was nothing sarcastic, rather playful with a hint of annoyance. The guy that spoke is gruff with a gentle smile, and black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He has the smirk of a conman, and eyes of a dreamer.
"Because I know I'll win against a chump like you, Tulio."
"I wouldn't get too cocky just yet, Jackson. Just because you beat my partner last year, that does not mean you'll beat me so easily this year. Far from it."
"Hm, I seem to recall you losing to me on my very first year at the fest. Isn't that right?"
"Well, I can't deny that but, lots can happen in the span of two years."
"Yeah, we'll see about that."
The playful exchange between the two is interrupted as Mr. Peabody fakes a cough while staring them down with a hard glare. Both boys shrink back to their former places, the boy called Tulio sitting up on one of the tables and Jack back into his corner of the room.
"Now that all that nonsense discussion is over, we'll continue with the game."
"Yes sir."
"This game is the semi-finals, making it very different from the rest of the games you've played so far. It's different in one, it's no ordinary card game that you would've commonly heard of—it's something unique. You all know the purpose of these games by now, and it's not to test how well you can play with cards, but how you can manipulate yours and your opponent's cards. This next game is all about luck, and the rules are simple."
Taking out a deck of cards fresh from the packet, he reveals the back of one, before turning it around to face them. But something awed the players – the front and back were nothing different. The blue pattern that trailed across the back is printed on the front as well.
"This card is a misprint. Rather than your standard black Joker, this card has appeared in our deck. We will be using this card, and this red Joker card."
Mr. Peabody holds up both cards, and a bag on the other hand. The players look at each other with curious faces.
"Okay, we know that we're just using wildcards here, but what exactly is the game?"
"The game will start tomorrow, at eight o'clock sharp. This gives you, twenty-four hours—as soon as you leave this room—to look for a partner."
"A partner?"
"There are two conditions that meet the partner criteria. One, this person must not have played in the card games this year, and two they should be from your school. Sounds easy enough?"
"What's the purpose of this partner?"
"The game will be played in two different rooms, all four matches happening at the same time. Two rooms will be connected by a two-way glass mirror. This is where we're going to monitor you from. I will be in charge of Corona and Southern Isles, my partner will be in charge of Duloc and Maldonia. You and your partner will play in separate rooms."
"And let me guess, I will be against the partner of my opponent and my partner will be against my opponent?"
"That is correct, Mr. Overland."
"But why do this?"
"Please wait until I finish explaining the rules." The adult man clears his throat before proceeding. "The rules of the game is simple, there will be the dealer, and then the volunteer. Your partner will be the volunteer, and you will be the dealer. Pay heed to the fact that you will not be playing your partner, rather—the partner of your opponent."
"So we're not even facing off against our sworn enemies?"
"As if I'd consider you my sworn enemy Tulio—you're not even worthy."
"The dealer puts the two cards in the bag, and then shakes it. This will shuffle the two cards. The volunteer will then take a card out of the bag, face down. If she flips it up and the card is the joker, she takes a point. If the card is the misprint, the point goes to the dealer. The game will continue until the first person hits ten. If ever she takes out a joker card facing up, the point will not count, and the shuffle is done again(3)."
"So it's testing our luck?"
"Yes. Both players have a card each so it's an even fifty-fifty chance of achieving a win."
"Fifty-fifty, huh?"
"The points you make as a dealer, and the points your partner makes as the volunteer will then add up to your total points. Even if you win as the dealer, if the difference between the points is too little, and your partner loses as the volunteer and the difference is higher, you won't win the game. So co-operation with your partner is very important."
"If winning is by luck then why do we need to co-operate with our partner? All we can do is hope she's lucky."
"I'm surprised you even made it this far, you—whoever you are."
"I have a name."
"I don't really care."
"It's Fiona Lillian."
"That's nice."
"And I got here because I know my cards well."
"You obviously don't know enough."
"I dare say I do."
"If you haven't figured out the logic behind this game then you obviously do not know enough."
"Fuck you, you prissy Corona boy. Your school is a landmine of conceited snobs like you. I don't have to take any of your shit."
She slaps him hard on the face, but he doesn't even flinch the slightest. Angered by his reaction—or lack thereof—she stomps away angrily, opening the glassy door and slamming it with enough force to break the double glazing of the glass. Jack just takes a long breath in and makes his way out of the room, with the other two players following after him silently.
"It seems you were right, Mr. Peabody."
He says, before leaving completely. Puzzled by the words, Tulio looks back to the old man, who only smiles slyly at him before pointing up. There on the wall, a clock hung and struck eight, indicating exactly twenty-four hours before the game begins.
54321
It's silent in the office, and a big man coated in his snow white beard stands rummaging through his files. He is jolly with wonder-filled eyes, a stern and determined gaze into his dilated pupils. Paper is scattered all across the room, flying in one direction and then the other as he tosses them aimlessly, eager to find what he's looking for. Walls painted brown and dull grey, with black boxes of unimportant documents. Everything around him screams of an eerie depression.
"Ey North."
Another man comes in—the one with the thick Australian accent and taste for cigars. Edmund strolls in, another blunt between his teeth, and a bemused smirk of his lips.
"Bunny!"
The jolly man stands surprised, arms stretched, ready to tackle his friend into a hug. Edmund raises both his hands in a gesture for North to stop, a small shake of his head.
"I've got the goons, no need for greetings."
"That's good! Where's Jack?"
"Still at the fest."
"Does he know I'll be joining him shortly?"
"He should've picked up on it by now, I let it slip that you're in Vegas."
"It's only a matter of time. He's going to have to see me. And that uncle of his, a very careful man indeed."
"I think you lads should just keep the collar off him. The reason he's like how he is, is because you people can't help but suffocate him with these stupid rules and obligations. We all know, it's nothing like that North."
"Heh, Bunny, I only follow orders—I don't make them."
"All bets there are many things about this mission that you're keeping even to yourself. As good as Megara and Ryder are, you and Jack also have your own information brokers that Man in Moon can't make contact with."
"Ah, but the truth is, I haven't talked to the doctor in a very long time."
"I wasn't talking about him. Contact with that man has been banned since three years ago. You know better than that, Nicholas St. North."
"What are you here for, Edmund. I'm very busy."
"To tell you that I've caught the goons."
"What else?"
"They're ready for investigation."
"Okay. I'll be down in a minute. Keep the doors locked."
"Aye sir."
Edmund goes out, pulling the door to a close with his leg. He takes the blunt between his fingers and throws it to the nearest trashcan. He makes his way down to the bottom of the warehouse, a large building that acted as a habitat for lost rats, dusted with cobwebs and small rays of moonlight that shined through the wooden slits of the ceiling. In a small spare room, the two men from before sat, handcuffed back to back, and a table stood beside them.
"You boys behave; I've got some business to take care of."
He leaves the suffocating chambers of those mixed stairs and four walls with barely any light. The way out is nothing different with it's muddy puddles and dimly lit alleys. The only thing good about the tarnished environment is that no one would dare seek this place on their own free will. They may stumble across it, accidentally—but they'd never intentionally stay.
"Hello, old friend."
A man from the shadows whispers, his voice coated in taunt and cheerful malice. Edmund stops abruptly, eyes wandering in alert, as he searches for the source. Washed in darkness of the place that surrounded them, a slender man emerges with a grin like the devil's, and staff held in one hand. Beside him, the sidekick he never ever plans to get rid of, big boned and tubby.
"Facilier."
"I see my title has been dropped."
"Well, there are consequences for betrayal."
"Is that so? I didn't know it'd be so harsh."
"Just wait 'til you hear the rest then."
"Do tell, I have plenty of time, as you know."
"Heard you were a busy man—business all over the place. How's that working out of for you mate?"
"It's going grand I suppose."
"That's good to know."
Edmund takes a sidestep, trying his best to cut this conversation short. He knew all along, this time would come, sooner or later—but he wanted to evade it as much as possible. Now here was this detestable guy, standing right in front of him, with a sadist's smile that could tempt nearly anyone.
"I have information, if ever you need it. All I ask is a warm welcome, and a place to stay in for the night."
"Listen 'ere ya sleeze, I'm in no mood to play into your mind games. Jack may have enough faith in you to fall for that trap, but I'm not."
"You all know he's been coming to me for information. And so far, so good—everything's been done according to Man in Moon's plan. I'm not so shameful to fool you a second time."
"Yeah, well, Jack's a good spy, he knows to call you out when you're lying—you can't lie to a boy like that."
"Oh, can't I?"
He chuckles, something sinister in the hoarse of his voice. He laughs as if he's going to choke, but Edmund can only go so far as to wish he does.
"Frost ain't stupid enough to unintentionally play your little game. Best bet is he's just allowing you to be the puppeteer—for now. He'll get back in control, soon enough."
"You seem to have high regards for the boy."
"Don't you?"
"Are you sure you're not the least bit jealous of his status—in comparison to yours."
"I know my limits. I accept facts."
"Tsk. Pathetic."
Edmund tries for another escape, but Lawrence stops him. Impatient as ever, the scruffy man scowls and takes a step back, hands fisted, as if ready to launch an attack at the two. But he knew better than that.
"What do you want?"
"I'm not going to play with you. Despite your rank, I know better than try and fool you—you're a little bit better at this than the rest. I'm going to get straight to the point. We need to stay for the night—something occurred to me and I need to take part in such business matters. If you allow me to stay, I'll tell you honestly everything I know for no price at all."
"You're negotiating with the wrong man."
"Between you and Santa Clause, I don't think I am."
"Tsk."
He doesn't say anymore. He just leaves. Out of the ratty old place and Facilier finally lets him go. He steps out of the shadowed alleyway, the moon luminous and bright, and blinding his eyes. There's so many things wrong going on with their current mission – but this is what's best for them. He can't take a risk trusting that guy—despite the sincerity in the words that he speaks. It's not that he knows Facilier will lie—no doubt about that. The man is demon made of greed, but so is everyone that works beyond the surface. This clash of self-sufficiency among the players of this reckless game of underworld crimes, strains relationships between people. And he can't do anything more to anger the boss. All mistakes Jack has made – that's all enough.
54321
The white pawn moves across the across the board, a forming a diagonal parallel to the black king. Kida breathes heavily and leans back a little.
"Pawns go first huh?"
She speaks so calmly, you wouldn't have thought—she knocks down her own king(4) and the buzzer sounds.
"Elsa Arendelle of Corona Sin Clair will be moving forward to the finals."
"Well played."
"You were a worthy adversary indeed, Miss Arendelle."
With a polite bow and a simple nod, Kida leaves the white painted room. The referee comes up to Elsa, an envelope in hand and a small congratulatory smile.
"Well done Miss Arendelle, for making it this far. I will now present you with this envelope containing details of your next match. We hope to see you in the final rounds on Friday."
"Can I guess my opponent?"
"You may if you wish."
"Rapunzel Corona."
"That is correct."
"She did well, didn't she?"
"Yes indeed."
"Thank you."
With that, Elsa nods, and leaves. A deep sigh escapes her lips as she closes the door. Leaning against the white washed wood, she closes her eyes in a deep struggle to calm her racking nerves. She doesn't know why but the exhilarating feeling of deceiving and winning is getting to her and for once in her life she actually knew why she was chosen to be a spy. It was in her blood—no doubt—but it was also in the core of her very soul. You'll never be able to continuously lie, unless you enjoyed doing so.
"Rough match?"
She looks up, and almost smiles at the sight of the white haired teenage boy she has yet to talk to since yesterday's run off.
"You didn't come to the room last night. Did you sleep out on the streets?"
"Oh yeah, it was an enjoyable experience." He chuckles, a playful façade masking his thoughts. "But did you—on the other hand—have a good night's sleep?"
"The hotel's very comfortable."
"No doubt about that."
"When's your next match?"
"Semi-finals, tomorrow at eight. You?"
"Not until Friday."
"Two days off from the games, sounds lucky enough."
"Yes, I'm glad to have a little bit of time to myself."
"Congratulations winning the ice skating tournament. I heard you were flawless on ice. I should go and see you sometime."
"It was only because only five out of the ten schools had volunteers for ice skating. It would be different if I had more competition."
"But ah—I heard there was no question at all, you were a very well deserved winner. Good job, princess."
"Why are you here?"
"Why so cold, Ice Queen?"
"Princess and then queen? You should really stop changing your mind so often."
"You're royalty either way but—"
Jackson takes a step forward, lust sparked through the ice in his blue eyes. He corners Elsa into the door, and smirks. His breath fanned over her neck and she swallows, but made no attempt to push him away.
"—you're a queen to the world but a princess to me."
"You jest."
"I'd be a fool to entertain you."
"Aren't you sweet."
He pulls back, a small toothy grin on his face, and sincere laughter that escapes his mouth. She smiles fondly at him as he backs himself up to the wall.
"I have a small favor to ask you."
"What is it?"
"I have to find a partner for my next match, by eight o'clock, tomorrow night. I want you to be it."
"Oh Jackson, I'm no good at card games."
"With this game, you don't have to be. Hell—you don't even need luck for it."
"Really?"
"There is not a single card game in the world that cannot be cheated. This is no different."
"Are you asking me to cheat for you?"
"It's not cheating if it's part of the game."
"I'm sorry but—"
"Every single fucking game in this festival Elsa—believe it or not—has one common rule. And that rule is hidden, printed in white ink and away from the naked eye. It's an invitation to use methods unconventional to surpass your opponent's strategy. Nobility is but a thing in the title of someone's name. We, as people, are no more noble than the gamblers that live on this very city. This festival is not to shine a light on the athletic people, or the lucky people. You know yourself—you've played the game of chess—it's all about winning whilst deceiving the enemy. Why do you think we're stationed at the gambling capital of the world?"
"You have way too little faith in people, Jackson."
"And you know exactly why a person can be so distrusting."
"Because you're exactly the person that cannot be trusted?" Elsa's voice trembles, somehow, and she doesn't exactly know why. "Cheaters, liars, those swindlers and cons that love to pry on the weakness of the human psychology—you're just like every single one of them. A pawn to this game that a corporation bigger than all of us has created."
"And you're anything better?"
He steps out of the wall, a stern gaze fixed on her small form. But she stands brave and strong before him, a mask never leaving—a mask she didn't know she'd ever wear again. One step forward, she dares him with her eyes—the fire that's there, and the mock of her pink lips.
"You're the greatest pretender this school has ever had, and no matter how fucking attracted I am to you, I can't get it out of my head that you're an enemy."
Right now she's confused, clueless on the meaning behind every word he spoke. And each step he takes towards her, she cowers unknowingly, taking small steps back. But the expression on her face never leaves. Her blue eyes flare with a bright spark of determination, and this game of swindlers and victims is something she refuses to lose—she will not be made the fool in this exchange.
"You call me a cheat because I know the truth behind this fest, and yet I continue to play by it's hands. What about you? Haven't you known all this time that this is no ordinary festival? Why don't you call the shit out and back out? Is this the normality you've been searching for, Elyssa Marie Arendellia?"
"Wha—"
He doesn't give her time to speak, caging her to the wall with both hands slammed at the sides of her head. She's quick with her reflexes, twisting her body in a jerk to escape from his hold. However, he catches her wrist and roughly pulls her back, only to have her running up against the wall and kicking him from behind. The play of cat and mouse begins, and she uses her flexibility to get ahead of him and slide between his legs. He catches on and runs after her, grabbing her ankle the very last second. She kicks him with her free leg, the heels of her boots a sharp graze against his calloused hand, but he doesn't let go. Throwing her to nearest wall, she springs up to charge at him. And he takes this chance to grab her by the waist and cage her again – only this time, in a tighter hold with her body spread on the floor and his knee between her legs.
Heavy breaths and strong glares are exchanged between the two teens. His hands are strong, pinning her roughly against the floor. She tries to squirm out of his hold but she can tell—it's a hopeless attempt.
"I'll make this easy for you. I have a proposition."
"I trusted you."
"Don't be so melodramatic—you and I both know this world is anything but fair."
"Who are you working for?"
"That doesn't matter. If you cooperate, I'll answer all of your questions with no hesitation."
"I'm not stupid Jackson, despite all the damn lies I fell for that came out of your mouth—I'm better than that."
"Elsa, I'm not the bad guy and you know that."
"I hardly think you have the right to say something like that in this situation."
"And who are you to say when you've been a slave to that devil all your life?"
"It was never in my intention."
"And neither was this in mine."
He lets go of her, and stands up. She coughs in disdain, dusting herself off as she sits up. He offers a hand which she blatantly refuses, a glare sent his way.
"What do you want from me?"
"That." He points at the lone quartz necklace she wears – a pendulum(5) colored opal, held by a chrome chain. "You're a pawn to his game, as long as you have that around your neck."
"My father gave me this."
"And why do you think he gave it to you? It's not a father daughter sentiment that you wear and show off to the world. He'll find that you have it and he's going to take it."
"And how are you so sure?"
"Because I know."
The atmosphere succumbs to an awkward silence. She holds tight the crystal quartz, a silent litany sent to God as she wonders about this guy, Jackson Overland.
"What is it?"
"Hades has been looking for you, this entire time. He needs that thing on your neck, for whatever reason. I know it's important—important enough he actually sent two decoys to act as you, as if he could fool people into thinking he has what he needs, and all that's left is to recruit allies. That's not the case and he knows it. You've made the perfect escape with your father, and now you have no idea where he is. He could be in the hands of that devil, punished for treason. But you'll never know, unless you do something about it."
"And if that's the case, how can I be sure you're not working for him? That you're not just feeding me another set of lies to lure me right into the hands of that demon."
"Because I like you and Elsa, goddamnit you know my feelings are genuine!"
"It's kind of hard to tell right now."
"I don't know if you trust me or not. But if you let me have you, be my possession, and that necklace that holds everything, I can guarantee you that I will destroy Hades. I can't promise to find your father, but you and I both know that the closest lead you have to his whereabouts is the boss himself."
She doesn't say anything, the truth penetrating through her ears and clouding her mind. She turns to face the other way, scared that her walls might break down and he'll see the weakness that is clearly evident on her face. She's not scared of Hades finding out her identity—far from it. The one thing she's so afraid of, is trusting this boy right in front of her – the boy able to fool a top ranking spy like her, and the boy she foolishly fell in love with.
He expects no response, never really sure himself how the scene would play out. On impulse he decided to just confront her about it, and from then on he could work up a scheme to break free from his own dilemma, destroy Hades, and protect this girl he's so goddamn infatuated with. So of course, he has already prepared for her rejection. But then she throws something at him, and with ease, he catches it. Glancing down at the small container on the palm of his hand, he sees crimson red and almost smiles.
"For someone so desperate to run away from that world, you sure keep a lot of stuff from it."
"It was never going to end unless he's taken down."
"That's true."
"And it's the best contract that will bind us together."
He understands. That's why, with no hesitation, he takes out a similar looking glass container from his back pocket. Bringing his thumb to his lips, he bites through the skin and a prick of blood runs down to his palm. Catching tiny drops of blood with the glass container, he then closes it with a rubber lid, before throwing it to Elsa who catches it without a single glance up.
"The terms are simple. Right now, you are mine, and everything you own is mine. You will work with me and in exchange, I promise to take down Hades and help you find your father."
"And if either one of us breaks this contract, the blood in our hands will be sent to those men. And that's the one thing people like us, slaves of the underworld, would never ever want to happen."
They give one final nod of agreement, before Elsa takes the necklace off her and hands it to Jackson. He shakes his head, and takes it from her hand. She turns to leave him but he tugs her back and she almost falls onto his chest. His lips close to her ear, he lets a small breath out and she shivers at the warmth that played on the tip of her ear. He slowly puts the necklace back on her, a small whisper escapes his mouth.
"We're not done yet."
"What's the game?"
"It's simple."
She backs away, staring at him with blue eyes of question. He almost chuckles. He then takes out two cards, a back and a red joker, and Elsa moves in closer to him.
"As simple as two cards?"
"As simple as these two cards."
"And you're sure we're going to win this little mind game of theirs?"
"Of course."
And before anything further could be said about the game, the speaker sounds again, and both teens stop their game of charade to listen to the announcements.
"All special team players report to your school's designated meeting place. Please be assembled in ten minutes."
Taking a glance at each other, Elsa nods to Jack—a silent confirmation that yes, they will further discuss this later on.
A/N:
(1) – About five or six years ago, in Science we had an experiment on the flames produced by different metals and we had potassium as one of them. As you know, potassium reacts with a lilac colored flame. Potassium is also very reactive so I thought to myself, what if there was a bomb made of potassium? I did some research and potassium in itself wouldn't be sufficient enough to make a bomb. And this is like top spy organization shit so I'm like, okay—something else. Besides, I already knew what the candidate was for the next ingredient; magnesium and glycerin. When I was watching Black Butler's second season, I saw that magnesium reacted to photographic flashes and then incinerated people. I don't know if that's the case in real life but—I reckon that it'd do grand. Glycerin was something I found after watching The Kawaii Complex Guide to Manors and Hostel Behavior and though it wasn't used as a bomb ingredient then, when I searched it up, I found that it was. Look, I don't know if these will work together and explode how I expect it to—I dropped Science two years ago—but mind the fact that this is all fiction. And if any contradictions arise, I'll try and fix it at a later point. Until then, I'm grand.
(2) – X-Men movies reference right there. This one's from The Last Stand.
(3) – If you watch The Liar Game, you'd see where this is going straight away. However, I won't give out too much details right now. I'll give a full explanation the next chapter when the game occurs and the winners are revealed.
(4) – Another reference to the X Men movies, and I'm pretty sure it's from the first movie, if not the second. It's the scene where Charles and Erik are playing chess whilst Erik is still captive in that prison thing and they play fast chest and Charles leaves before they finish playing and Erik knocks down his king because Charles has already hit checkmate.
(5) – YGO Arc-V is a great help on this one. Will further go into detail in later chapters.
I don't really have much to say this time 'round. I'm literally rushing this update because today I have a lot of things to do like I have cotillion practice and whatnot. I really do want to write more often but I just don't have time these days. Hopefully it gets better as I gradually get into the year and maybe properly learn to balance my school work and stuff. Whatever. I did however, quicken the pace in this chapter. As you know, they now both know of each other's identity—that has got to be a step up. Also, North is finally coming into the picture, and the "special team" is about to fight. And you may be wondering why Elsa is off against Punz well, that's because, multiple players from the same school can sign up for the same game, and then the top three or four gets in to the actual festival but we don't really need those details.
I tried to take some of your advices. One, I did incorporate more DW characters in this chapter. The problem with me and that is the fact that yes, DW characters are interesting and whatnot but, I actually have not properly seen any of the movies. You can probably tell that the characters have mostly been researched—I'm sorry! I would try to make time for a DW marathon, I really will, but just not right now. Hopefully before the next chapter I would've at least watched two or three movies including HTTYD, it's second part and Road to El Dorado since it has become clear that these characters will play vital points in the plot. I have watched Shrek though, so I feel like I've made Fiona way too aggressive. Oh boy. I also took account everything you guys have said about them having powers. And whilst both sides made valid points, I've already chosen which one I'll pick. And that is something you guys just have to wait for, hehehe. Also, I'm still trying to sort out the way conversations have been laid out; I'll get to it soon enough. Any other suggestions are welcome :)
Thank you, for continuously reading and supporting this mess of a fanfiction. You guys have unknowingly lifted my spirits up. And I hope to return the favor by writing for you in the best of my abilities.
PS – Not beta'd.