Smoke and Dagger
No one dared make a sound as eyes darted across the table, carefully studying each player's face and hands, looking for a hint, any hint, at a bluff or sign of nerves. Before them sat at least a dozen high stacks of gold coins, centered upon a worn, stone tabletop. Beneath the sight of glorious riches, the surrounding fire elementals each found their gaze set on a hand of cards, determining the fate of said treasure.
They went on for several more rounds, occasionally throwing in the last scraps of their money, until the entire pot was up for the taking. The largest of the group grumbled, then set down his cards, revealing an eight-high straight; not the worst hand, but definitely beatable. His fellow players sequentially laid down their results as well, showing equally unimpressive sets. It was when the tallest of the five elementals set down an 'Aces full of Kings' that the table gave a sigh in defeat.
Except for their last, and shadiest, contender.
"You got something to justify that smug grin, Maheas?" the man with a full house challenged.
All eyes were on the elemental who had yet to reveal his cards. Placing them face-down, he began to slowly flip each one over, keeping his smile.
One jack…
Two jacks…
Three…
And a forth.
"Satisfied, Vern?" Maheas replied.
Vern took a moment to let his eye twitch, before slamming his fists on the table, causing his defeated full house to fly up and scatter.
"You snake! You played us!"
Maheas shrugged, pulling his winnings to him.
"You were the one who agreed to pay your debt through a game of poker. But I assume you meant my earlier statement of not being familiar with the game. Regardless, I'll be sure to have Don Grevione thank you for your eventual cooperation."
Vern stood up from the table, as did the other three elementals.
"Boys, waste this cheeky punk," he commanded with a heavy glare.
The man's underlings cracked their knuckles, preparing to mess their visitor up, who, in the meantime, grew nervous as he readied himself for a fight. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to escape alive. However, he was about to see that numbers matter little in his situation, and not in the way he hoped.
"Urk!"
One of the henchmen suddenly jerked, falling onto the table and ceasing to move. A second later, his body blew into ash and embers. The others recoiled.
"What the? What did you do!?" Vern shouted at his unwelcome guest.
Before Maheas could speak in his defense, a slash was heard through the room. Vern then grunted, then burst into embers the same as his subordinate.
"Boss!" the remaining two cried, with mixed fear and astonishment.
The confusion on Maheas face was enough to convince the grunts it wasn't his handiwork, so they began scanning the room, hands raised with waiting fireballs.
"Show yourself, you scum!"
No sooner had the fool spat the insult that his time ended, bursting into embers. Being the only sources of light in the room, each downed elemental resulted in a darkening atmosphere, terrifying the last pair of men. Maheas gathered the wits to turn towards the door, but no sooner had he faced the exit that another yelp signaled his last companion's demise. Alone, with nothing but his own dim flames providing vision, the man backed slowly into the wall, eyes hopelessly scanning the barely visible features of the room.
He froze when something sharp touched his throat.
"Grevione's persistence will be the end of him," a childish voice whispered into the elemental's ear.
Maheas felt lava sweat down the side of his face.
"Me-Mow…"
The blade dug a bit further into his skin.
"I never miss twice, Maheas," she replied.
The fiery man gulped, racking his mind for any way out.
"L-look, I'm just getting the Don his money back. It's just business."
A tisk rang through the small room.
"Unfortunately for him, and you, my business is dominant. Now…"
Maheas watched as the assassin made her way onto his shoulder where he craned his neck to watch in terror. In one hand, she held her dagger, ready to slice at his weak point and dissolve him entirely. In her tail, she held a syringe, aimed at his neckline to replace the blade.
"You can tell me where he is and this will end swiftly…"
She spun her weapon around to emphasize.
"Or you can suffer for minutes on end in a semiconscious nightmare of pain."
She poked him threateningly with the needle of her poison. Maheas considered his position, his standing with his boss, and everything he'd been through up until that point. He'd already walked into a potential trap with the poker game, so he found no reason to not honor his position to the Don. Taking in a deep breath, the man eyed his assailant carefully.
"You'll get nothing from me, kitty."
The last sound Maheas made was a gag, as Me-Mow quickly injected her lethal dose into his body. While the fire elemental instantly fell flat on the floor, occasionally twitching, the assassin agilely flipped up onto the table, her slit eyes narrowed in annoyance. Upon setting sight on the golden stacks however, she drew a smirk.
"That's where you're wrong, fool."
Putting her dagger away into her mouth, Me-mow walked up and took one of the coins from the pot, studying its faint gleam. Her nocturnal vision noticed a strange imperfection in the side, but she paid it little mind; gold was gold. Tucking it into her bandaging, she decided she'd return for the rest later. Conveniently enough, Vern's warehouse was seldom visited by anyone other than the criminal himself.
Hoping back off the table, Me-Mow walked past Maheas, whose heart would still beat for another minute or two. Chuckling at her work, the cat assassin slid under the door, heading off to find her next lead.
Aside from a decrease in civilians prowling the streets, dusk brought nothing new to the Fire Kingdom. As Me-Mow jumped from rooftop to rooftop, her eyes were constantly on the lookout, hoping to spot a shady character leaning against an alleyway, or perhaps a shrouded group entering a pub. She was in Grevione's territory of business, so she knew something would slip up eventually.
Another jump landed her on a street-side stand, which had closed down for the day. Choosing it as her stakeout point, the assassin laid low, keeping only her eyes and pointed ears above cover.
"Ay! My favorite little spitfire!"
The outburst caused Me-Mow to jump, only to fall on her back and groan at the ache now present in her head. When she finally did focus her sights, she found her mood soured instantly.
Sitting on the opposite end of the stand's top, chowing down on what appeared to be leftover pieces of charcoal, was a flambit she was all too familiar with. The now excited fire elemental hoped to his feet, practically dashing over to his feline attraction. Despite the fact that his eyes were wide and glowing with joy, he failed to, or perhaps just ignored, the knife that had just become wedged in his forehead.
The force of the impact threw him to the ground, ending his trip to Me-Mow by roughly sliding on his back. When he stopped, right beside her, the flambit cold only give her a hapless grin.
"I see yous still got the aim, doll."
The cat assassin reached over and pulled her projectile weapon from the fiery sprite's head, after which he rubbed the area. Getting to his feet, Flambo watched as Me-Mow prepared to hop to the next available lookout spot.
"Hey, hold on there!"
As he huffed after her, not quite as nimbly or fast, the assassin paid him no mind. Once she stopped at the roof of a two-story building, the flambit collapsed in exhaustion, not used to the acrobatics she performed daily.
"Just…*huff*… give me a sec…"
Me-Mow groaned, turning to finally acknowledge the irritant.
"What do you want, idiot?" she spat.
Flambo managed to stand next to her, still about twice her height.
"Watcha up to there?" he asked with great enthusiasm.
The assassin rolled her eyes, returning to scanning the streets.
"If I tell you, will you get the heck away from me?"
Her flambit companion lowered his brows, but kept his smile.
"Aw, don't be like that, sweety. Maybe I can help ya out."
Me-Mow gritted her teeth, trying her best not to attack the pest, even though she had no current methods to legitimately harm him.
"Forget it. I'm on my own."
Flambo at last frowned as he watched the cat jump to a slightly higher spot. Scratching his chin, he pondered what she might be doing. He usually didn't hang out in this particular neighborhood of the kingdom, but a friend had told him about charcoal scraps being left behind after one of the stands closed for the day. Unable to resist, he'd exploded the region, listening carefully, as he was infamously known for. When bits of knowledge began to click in his mind, he smiled once again, only this time with a sly undertone.
"Well…" he began, drawn out and unnecessarily loud.
"If your lookin' for some connections to the Family, I might be able to provide the info."
Me-Mow's ears perked in attention. She swung her head around to eye the flambit, who patiently waited for a reaction while holding his confident grin. The next moment, Flambo found himself tackled to the floor, now having Me-Mow's dagger pointed right at his eye. The threat was empty, but instinct kept her on edge.
"What do you know?" she demanded in a low voice.
Nervous, despite the seemingly useless weapon, Flambo chuckled before making a request.
"Could I get to my feet first?"
Me-Mow quickly leapt off of him and touched down on the floor, keeping her sight trained on the flambit as if expecting him to run off. Dusting himself off, the fiery sprite motioned for the assassin to follow, as he turned to walk up to the roof's edge. She complied, now standing beside him as he briefly scanned the surrounding buildings. He pointed a stubby hand towards an isolated and quite decayed structure just past the main road. Me-mow could witness several rough-and-tough fire elementals entering, but only when the man watching over the entrance permitted them.
"That there's the Screamin' Anvil," Flambo explained.
"If you've got dirt on ya's, that's where ya go. The place is crawlin' with whatever criminal element is left in the kingdom after Finn and the queen cleared 'em out."
Me-Mow narrowed her eyes, unimpressed with the shambling pub.
"What kind of ridiculous name is that?"
Flambo chuckled.
"Word is, the original owner was a dungeon master."
Sighing, the cat assassin just shook her head and hoped down from the view, to which Flambo followed.
"Whoa! Whoa! Where you goin' in a hurry?"
Me-Mow reached the corner of the roof, preparing to jump down and make her way towards the tavern.
"To make the lowlifes inside squeal, of course. I intend to have Don Grevione's head by morning."
Just as the assassin was about to pounce, Flambo flame dashed right in front of her, hands held up to hold her back.
"Retract them claws, sweety. Yous can't just storm the place."
Me-Mow batted his hands aside and stepped past him.
"I'm not storming the place, you moron, I'm infiltrating."
The flambit scratched his head, trying his best to explain.
"Look, there ain't no secret meeting rooms in that establishment. You talk, you talk in the open, with generous table spacing and lot's a whispering."
He stepped up.
"If you's gonna get the dirt, you'll needs to go in like all us normies."
Me-Mow grinded her teeth, staring at the far off entrance to the Screaming Anvil. Out in the open, surrounded on all sides by gangsters and other thugs, her assassin skills would be next to useless. One alert from the person she'd be interrogating and the whole place blasts her with fireballs in every direction. Reluctantly, she knew Flambo's familiarity and info were her best chances to getting what she wanted. Sighing in defeat, she turned back to the fire elemental.
"Fine. Take me there."
Delighted, the flambit stifled a squeal. He offered the assassin to hop on, which she accepted, clinging to the top of his head as he unceremoniously jumped off. Upon hitting the ground, he swiftly began scampering on all fours towards the tavern, with Me-Mow keeping her eyes on the prize. As the two made their way past the main street, Flambo suddenly had a thought.
"Hey, how is it that you ain't fryin' to a crisp?"
Me-Mow answered, but did so dismissively.
"My fireproofing wore off a few hours after I gave back that power, so I made my way to Wizard City."
She clutched one of the wrappings covering her body.
"It was easy enough to get a pouch of shielding powder to cover these in."
Flambo raised an eyebrow.
"But wait, if you ain't a wizard how did you get those guys to sell you the- oooooh."
Remembering who he was talking to, he ended the conversation.
The flambit had finished the run to the Screaming Anvil, now just around a corner from the gruff fire elemental guarding its entrance. Upon studying the man closely, the fiery spire smiled, confidence blooming. He turned to Me-Mow, who had jumped off of his head.
"We's got a whole barrel of luck on our side. I know that muscle-head, and we're cool."
He took another glance.
"Ok, here's the deal: we walk up, acting like we's just a couple goin' out for a drink. Inside, I'll ask my buddy Sal if the guy we're lookin' for is in."
Me-Mow face-palmed at what the flambit was dragging her into, but knew she was committed to the plan, agreeing. The pair took a breath, then walked out from their hiding spot, trying to appear as casual as possible while strolling up to the guard. The large fire elemental kept his arms crossed as he analyzed the two pint-sized patrons approaching, but quickly grew a surprisingly friendly grin as he noticed Flambo waving. He threw his arms out in greeting.
"Flambo! My little buddy! How are ya?"
The flambit reached out a stubby hand and low-fived his chum, glad to see their good terms.
"Heh, I'm just great, Floyd."
Floyd then took Me-Mow into account.
"Taking a girl out for a few? Nice," he complimented, nodding in approval.
Me-Mow did her best not to gag in response, but the callous attitude written all over her face had the guard laughing.
"Ice-cold cat, huh? What a match for your quick-fire eyes and ears, buddy."
Flambo gave his best toothy grin as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Heh, yeah."
Floyd stepped aside, motioning to the open door.
"Go right on in. Oh, and have Sal send a lady with a bottle-full, will ya? I'm parched."
Flambo saluted in reply and led the way, Me-Mow instantly on the defensive, always expecting attacks.
True to his word, Flambo's description of the tavern was spot on. Even leaning back in your chair, you'd never butt heads with the party next to you. A prevalent smoke cloud hung over the ceiling due to all the fire elementals inside, but was thin enough that the lights could still illuminate the place. Laughter, serious discussions, games of darts, the works went on as the two newest patrons walked past, heading to the bar in the back.
She and Flambo hopped up on the counter, much too small to take an actual seat. They were instantly greeted by a middle-aged man cleaning off the spouts, who gave them a welcoming grin.
"What can I- Flambo! Great to see you, ya loose-lipped devil," he joked.
The flambit laughed along with him, while Me-Mow just scanned the room for anyone suspicious.
"You too, Sal. Hey, could you sent out a cold one to Floyd, says he's getting the dry throat out there."
The bartender nodded, calling over a waitress to send the drink on its way. Once everyone was settled, Sal placed his full attention on the pair.
"So what'll it be for you and the lucky lady?"
Me-Mow suddenly noticed all eyes on her. Flambo, in his gentlemanly nature, had offered she ordered first, smiling with encouragement. She cautiously looked between him and Sal, then turned away, folding her arms.
"Milk. Skim. I taste the slightest cream and it's your head."
The bartender burst into a hearty laugh, reaching down to get the request.
"I like this one, Flambo, she's your type!"
Once Sal handed the assassin his smallest shot glass in respect to her size, he turned to the flambit.
"And for you?"
The fiery sprite looked both ways, then stepped up closer, motioning for his friend to lean in. Once Sal's ear was within range, the informant posed his question.
"We heard that some of Grevione's goons frequent the joint. That on the up and up?"
The bartender's mood seemed to settle as he leaned back, his expression showing caution as he grabbed a nearby glass to clean. While working on the rim with a towel, he casually floated his gaze to the far corner of the tavern, motioning for Flambo to follow his target. They watched a table of three fire elementals, relaxed and seemingly making small talk, based on their composure.
"You couldn't tell from here, but the fellow with the crack in his right shoulder works the graveyard shift in the Don's nearby store front, runs the whole shebang for him. He comes here to take a load off regularly. Name's Lasky. Word is Grevione stopped by last night."
He looked back to Flambo.
"If you're looking for the big man himself, which I assume, he's the most likely to know where."
The two heard a glass set down on the countertop, looking over to see Me-Mow wiping her lips and staring right at the man in question. As she took a step forward, her path was stopped by Flambo's hand on her shoulder.
"Hold up there, sweety."
The assassin gave him an annoyed glare. He motioned to the bartender.
"Sal don't want any trouble. We're cool, but fights here don't end well if someone bites the dust, not for his wallet, see?"
Me-Mow shifted her gaze to the older man, who had a mixed expression of both pleading and warning.
"At the very least, don't have anyone dying in here," he requested, setting down the glass he'd been cleaning.
The assassin groaned again, nearing her limit with the fire elementals.
"As long as he cooperates, this will be quick," she replied, jumping out of Flambo's grasp.
The flambit followed suite, as the two began walking towards their quarry. Being so small, neither was noticed making their way past numerous customers enjoying their time off. Even when they'd reached the correct table, not one of the three lounging men took notice. Me-Mow went ahead and hopped up, landing silently beside an empty glass. Though not as gracefully, Flambo followed. The thump from his landing at last caught attention to them. The one known as Lasky gave them a disinterested glance.
"Uh, mind if we join yous guys?" Flambo improvised.
The other two looked at each other, then their third member. Lasky raised a hand to show it was fine, then straightened up in his chair.
"Sure thing, friend. Is there something I can do for you?"
Me-Mow proceeded to step closer, doing her best no to lunge at the goon, dagger in hand.
"Don Grevione. You're involved with him, aren't you?"
While Lasky's cohorts seemed alarmed all of a sudden, he signaled for them to calm down once more. Even Flambo grew nervous, seeing how direct his companion was being. Focusing on the cat, Lasky leaned forward, an almost smug grin now present.
"I work for the big man, yes. Is there something you wished to request of him?"
Me-Mow's tail flicked back and forth, while she moved the dagger in her throat up in preparation for use.
"You could say that."
The fire elemental gave a light chuckle.
"Well, I'm sorry to say this, but he's not particularly fond of assassins… Me-Mow."
As the cat's eyes widened, she found two fireballs being aimed at either side of her. Flambo was close enough that he'd be caught in the blast as well. As the flambit started sweating at the attacks Lasky's friends had waiting, the man himself interlocked his fingers, setting his chin upon them.
"Maheas called ahead before his collection job. Said if he didn't return in an hour, that it could only be you."
He smiled wide enough to show his teeth, enjoying the scowl Me-Mow was now giving him.
"You've been outsmarted, kitty, and now, you won't even leave this tabletop."
He motioned to his boys, who were about to let loose their attacks on the two diminutive figures. The assassin looked for the best plan of attack, hoping for an opening to take out all three at once.
Her thoughts were interrupted when two blasts of fire caught both thugs in the face. They fell back in their chairs, painfully striking the floor. The blow to the back of their heads knocked them out. All sound in the tavern ceased, now all eyes trained on the table in the back. Me-Mow's jaw dropped, now seeing Flambo standing protectively in front of her. His sneer discomforted Lasky, who was on the receiving end.
"No one… calls her 'kitty'."
Before the Don's underling could react, the flambit pounced on him, shouting a war cry as his body was engulfed with powerful flames. The impact alone threw Lasky into a wall, incapacitating him instantly. As Flambo stood up from his attack, he was suddenly wary of dozens of fire elementals getting to their feet. Looking behind them, both he and the previously stunned Me-Mow witnessed each other patron in the room growling at them and readying their fists for a brawl.
"You two are dead," one barked.
"The Don will be happy to hear when we mess you up," another called.
Flambo looked over to the bar. Sal looked confused, surprised, and nervous all at once. He caught the flambit's eye, shrugged awkwardly, then immediately ducked under the counter, fearing the worst. Sure enough, multiple thugs ignited their fists and approached the table, eager to earn gratitude from Grevione. As a couple of men rushed them, both pint-sized visitors sprang up.
Flambo instantly flame dashed onto one of their shoulders, then to the top of his head, then his back. While the grunt hopelessly swatted at the flambit, his nearby cohort tried blasting him off with a hand-fired flamethrower. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in hitting his own comrade. As the now unconscious fire elemental lay on the floor, Flambo rematerialized, only to them spring towards another hostile.
On Me-Mow's side, the assassin was effortlessly dodging the long-range attacks thrown her way. Once she managed to duck underneath a table, however, the thugs began a fruitless search to find the elusive feline. One by one, the brutish elementals dropped to the floor, unable to see where the assassin was coming from. Despite her ability, she was careful to only knock them out, choosing to honor Sal's request, not that there was much enjoyment in a head-on fight to her anyway. Shouts and groans filled the tavern, followed soon enough by loud thumps as bodies hit the floor.
As the last thug remained standing, Me-Mow found Flambo attached to his face. The flambit delivered a swift punch in the nose, causing the man to stumble back into a shelf. After a ceramic vase fell on his head, he was done, slumping to the floor. With the noise having died off, Sal risked poking his head over the countertop, darting his eyes from left to right. Seeing Flambo and Me-Mow as the only ones left standing, he let out a breath in relief, laying his arms on the table.
No sooner had the atmosphere relaxed, that Floyd burst in through the door, fists ready to deal with any disruptive scumbags.
"I heard noise and came running, is everything ok?"
Sal slammed his hands on the counter, giving his guard a furious glare.
"Where the heck were you!?" he barked.
Floyd blinked a few times, then rubbed the back of his neck.
"Uh… was giving directions to a few classy ladies that came by."
The bartender pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning.
"This comes out of your paycheck, slacker. Now drag these idiots out of my tavern!"
While the blockhead saluted and began going about his orders, Flambo had made his way to the dazed yet still conscious Lasky. The man yelped as the flambit grabbed his collar. Raising a fist, he made his demand.
"Now, unless yous want a beatin' to never forget, you'll tell me and the dame where to find your boss."
Lasky just blink at first, to which Flambo responded by giving him what would surely become a black eye.
"I'll ask again, bub," he threatened.
When the man still didn't talk, the flambit went for his nose. Once the cry of pain ended, Flambo's body surged with growing flames, his eyes turning red and shaped the same as Me-Mow's.
"Alright, alright!" Lasky cried, his voice distorted by his ruined nasal passages and fear for his life.
"H-he's staying at the nearby hotel, fourth floor, said to call if anything went wrong!"
Flambo leaned in close, his crimson eyes inches from Lasky's.
"And did something go wrong?"
The man beneath him shook his head frantically.
"N-no!"
Done with the squealer, Flambo bashed his head against his, providing Lasky with an effective lights-out. Returning to normal, the fiery sprite dusted himself off, then turned back to Me-Mow, flashing her his usual grin.
"You get that, doll?"
The cat assassin just stared at him, mouth still hanging open a bit. It wasn't until her companion walked over to her that she managed to speak.
"Yeah… I did."
Beaming, Flambo motioned to the door.
"Then let's go."
As Me-mow followed up after him, she noticed Floyd still hauling the unconscious thugs out, amused a bit by his punishment. Passing the bar, she stopped, meeting Sal's unsettled gaze. Thinking for a moment, she pulled out the one gold coin she'd taken earlier, tossing it to the barkeep, who caught it easily enough.
"Sorry about the mess."
As the two continued on through the exit, Sal took a closer look at the payment. His eyes widened when he noticed an imperfection on the side; signature of Grevione's personal stash. The feature brought a smile to his face, realizing he could use the marked monetary to his advantage should the Don question why his men had been bashed around inside Sal's tavern. He waved after his latest customers, unaware of their plans.
"Come again!"
Me-Mow was instantly eyeing the hotel in the distance once she emerged outside, already planning the best side to scale to the fourth floor. Flambo stopped beside her, furrowing his brow as he noticed where she was looking. He absentmindedly kicked the dirt at his feet, saddened by what he knew was coming next.
"So, uh.. I guess you don't want me taggin' along, right?"
The assassin was broken out of her contemplation, looking over at the flambit. She huffed, then looked away, folding her arms.
"Of course not. This is my job."
Flambo nodded sadly.
"Right. What about those guys back there? Couldn't they blab to the Family once they come to?"
Me-Mow shook her head.
"He'll be done in long before that happens."
The fire elemental nodded again. The two remained silent for a moment, both trying to find something to say.
"But…"
Flambo's attention was drawn as his companion finally spoke.
"If I need some info on my next target, I'll be sure to find you."
The assassin was actually giving him a smile, however faint and difficult to detect. The flambit may as well have been a firework, as he brightened to the point that Me-Mow had to shield her eyes. In a flash, he was right next to her, arms outstretched in preparation for an embrace. Sadly, he received only a dagger to the eye, causing his flames to cool back down and his mouth to let out a disappointed sigh.
He then felt a lightning-fast peck on his cheek.
As the dagger left his eye, his now wide eyes searched the area, but it was too late. Me-Mow was gone. The flambit placed a stubby hand against his cheek, trying to recall if he had just imagined the assassin's final gesture, or if it was only his deeply rooted hopes. Flambo looked towards the hotel, knowing that soon enough it would be flocked by law enforcement and investigators. He smiled; his features relaxing as he came to terms with his wonderful night alongside the girl he fell for.
"Not bad for a first date," he mused.
With that, the informant scampered off.
Well, that was fun. I enjoyed writing all of these, and hope they provided some thoughtful backstory to an already massive fic.