<<set $doll to "false">><<set $peacock to "false">><<set $blunt to "false">><<set $reject to "false">>Head hazy with all the absinthe he’s drunk, he leans against the counter of the bar and surveys the menu for tonight.
Toward the eastern side of the speakeasy, he spots an NPC in a frilly, feminine dress. Pristine as a doll, she’s surrounded by at least a dozen players vying for her attention. Despite her fawning audience, she gazes into the middle distance, her glossy lips pursed with petulance.
Her eyelashes — thick and dark — brush against her cheeks every time she blinks. Her chestnut hair is curled at the tips. As she picks up her cocktail, her square-tipped acrylic nails click against her glass. She’s daintily sipping a pink lady.
Next, his eyes wander over to the western side of the room. There, he spies a silver fox.
If the doll’s draw is her demeanor of youthful innocence, this woman exudes the antithesis of that vibe. She’s the height of maturity and sophistication. She wears a tailored blazer over her dress, which is just the right length to showcase her toned calves. Her nails are painted a tasteful neutral shade. Amidst her self-assured solitude, she nurses a gin and tonic.
Both these women he’s considering display a different set of charms. Landing the [[done-up doll]] — the most widely coveted target of the night by a long shot — will surely boost his ego. On the other hand, a woman as worldly-looking as the [[silver fox]] will likely have a wealth of conversational topics to keep him on his toes.<<set $doll to "true">>He goes to the room’s eastern side. There, he attempts to breach the wall of men in the doll’s circumference, but they won’t budge.
He has to do something to stand out amidst this sea of suitors.
The green fairy whizzing ’round and ’round his head has a few options to recommend. Perhaps he should heed its suggestion to commence [[peacocking]] in an effort to command the NPC’s total attention. The second strategy the fairy suggests is [[daring]] the doll to do something wild.He walks to the speakeasy’s western side. He runs his hand through his dark hair as he goes. If he’s planning to pursue somebody that fancy, he has to look the part of a professional.
He stops beside the table occupied by the silver fox. “Good evening. The name’s Dr. Paladiknight. Mind if I join you?”
The NPC looks critically at him over the highball cocktail she’s sipping. There’s a pregnant pause before she utters, “Why not.”
Smiling, he perches on the seat next to hers.
She sets down her glass on the table. “So what brings you here, specifically?”
He parts his mouth, prepared to spout one among his assortment of memorized openers. Then he changes his mind. He’s got a feeling she’s heard all his lines before. It will take so much more to impress a woman of her caliber.
The green fairy nipping at his earlobes has a couple of potent suggestions. A [[magic trick]] may be a novel tactic for him to try. Another option, the fairy whispers, is [[fortune-telling]].<<set $peacock to "true">>What’s a better way of standing out than strutting his stuff like the most prismatic of peacocks?
At a nearby table is an NPC in a pig’s costume. Personally, he finds this type of animalistic roleplay too gimmicky. Still, a small yet loyal subsection of the clientele won’t settle for anything else.
“Hey, do you mind if I borrow this for a sec?” While only intending to point at the pink hat fastened underneath her chin, he gestures too wildly and ends up knocking off the accessory altogether.
The costumed NPC goes <i>oink-oink-oink</i> in protest.
He snatches the hat from the ground. “I’ll give it back later, I promise!”
He hurries off even though the NPC is squealing and shaking her paws at him. Placing the pig-eared hat on his head, he dives back into the hubbub surrounding the doll. When some of the men gape at his strange fashion choice, he takes advantage of their astonishment by shoving their bodies out of the way.
Eventually, he succeeds in reaching his target.
The doll lays her eyes on him. All at once, the displeasure on her face morphs into outright distress.
“Get this guy out of my sight,” she implores with a delicate shudder. “I have a deathly fear of swine.”
From either side of him, hands shoot out and seize his arms. The men drag him away from the scowling woman.
He spits out excuses as he’s being hauled away. “Look, I didn’t mean to traumatize you! I thought pink might be your favorite color. I mean, you’re drinking a pink lady and all. Besides, this hat is meant to be symbolic because the Zodiacs themselves invited me to take on the role of the Boar. It’s a very prestigious position, if you must —”
The hands gripping his arms dump him [[far away]] from the doll’s table.A dare is in order. Adrenaline is a wonderful way to get her heart pumping.
First, he needs to put his big mouth to use. If he hollers loudly enough, he can get everybody in close proximity to shut up.
And so he yells at the stop of his lungs. “Hear ye, hear ye! Listen up, everybody!”
Those closest to him clamp their hands over their ears. Taking advantage of their wincing, he shoves their bodies out of the way. He soon succeeds in reaching his target.
“I’ve got something important to announce!” he shouts.
The doll raises an impeccably-arched eyebrow. “Oh? What is it?”
“I can tell by the expression on your face that you’re sick and tired of all these chumps.” He ignores the hisses of the men around him. “That’s why I’ve charged here on my white horse. I’ve arrived to liven up this party.”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
He points directly at her. “I’m issuing a challenge to you!”
His declaration makes her clap her hands in delight. “Ah, I do love a challenge! Bring it on!”
“I dare you to get on top of this table with me!” He jabs his thumb against his chest. “Then we shall make out passionately in front of everybody in this speakeasy!”
The doll’s mouth forms an “O” shape. She gives a delicate shudder. “As if I could ever do something so shameless! Do you take me as some sort of porn star?”
“No, that wasn’t what I was trying to —”
Before he can finish what he’s saying, the men on either side of him seize his arms. They begin dragging him away from the offended woman.
He babbles as he’s being hauled away. “It’s not like I told you to strip or anything! Besides, what’s wrong with porn stars? I’m their number one fan. You can all shake your heads and pretend you’ve never partaken of adult entertainment. But that’s total bullcrap, and you know it. Every single person in this room has whacked —”
The hands gripping his arms fling him [[far away]] from the doll’s table.The impact of his fall sucks the air from his lungs. “Ouch! What the hell is wrong with you people?”
But the men who threw him to the floor are already turning away. They head back to where the doll waits. Perhaps they’re expecting her to reward them for their heroics in vanquishing her enemy.
Face pink, he stumbles to his feet and brushes away any errant dust from the seat of his slacks.
<<if $peacock == "true">>He limps toward the NPC in the piggy costume so that he can return her hat. She scrunches her snout as she snatches it from his hand, as if afraid that he’ll contaminate her with his penchant for foolishness.
<<else>>He wishes the ground would gobble him whole. But no dice.
<</if>>
<<if $reject == "true">>That was [[humiliating]].
<<else>>That was [[embarrassing]].
<</if>>That was his second loss of the night. Why, oh why, has he been heeding the whims of the devilish green fairy whispering into his ear? How foolish of him.
No, he can’t spiral like this. He can’t let the dark thoughts win. He needs to take the edge off somehow.
<<if $blunt == "true">>In the privacy of the bathroom, he lights up the blunt he received from Zepile. He breathes in, holds the smoke in his lungs for a moment, then breathes out. After repeating this a number of times, the commotion in his head mellows into murmurs.
He gives his reflection in the mirror a tentative grin. Though his eyes are beginning to look bloodshot, the tint of his sunglasses renders the reddish color barely noticeable.
“You’ll get out there and be the charmer you know you can be,” he instructs himself. “Your third target will be so swept up she won’t know what hit her.”
With a spirited wink at his reflection, he walks out of the bathroom with renewed determination.
He’s back by the bar once more. He gazes at the menu overhead. Should he get another drink before giving this dating sim yet another [[spin]]?
<<else>>He’s down on his knees and pawing through the trash before he realizes what he’s doing.
Where’s the weed Zepile discarded earlier? Oh, there it is.
Since a couple of customers are watching him with quizzical expressions, he flicks the blunt into an empty cigarette pack before pocketing the entire thing.
He’ll light this up later when nobody’s paying attention to him. In the meantime, he traipses toward the bar to nab yet another shot of the impish green spirit.
“Don’t let me down this time, Lady Absinthe,” he mumbles against the rim of the shot glass.
Slowly, the world starts to [[spin]] around him.
<</if>><<set $reject to "true">>With his feet dragging over the floor, he heads toward his friends’ table to commiserate. Zepile is seated there, but Basho is nowhere to be found.
“Hey there, Zep. Guess what?”
Zepile raises a stemmed glass to his lips to sip some red wine. “What?”
“I just bombed my first encounter of the evening. Big-time.”
“Yeah, some nights are just harder than others. Keep your chin up. You’ve got a face that would make most ladies swoon. It would be a waste to darken that good-looking mug with a woe-is-me attitude.”
Leorio coughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Has Basho already left?”
“Yup, ages ago. He hit it off with his target right away. Oh, speaking of Basho. . . .” Zepile extracts a baggie from his jeans pocket. Inside it is an unsmoked blunt. “Do you want this? Basho insisted on giving it to me, but I’m not in the mood to get high tonight.”
Leorio should probably [[abstain]] for now since he’s still reeling from all the absinthe he’s drunk. Then again, given how his evening is going, having some [[herb]] to help him unwind may not be the worst idea in the world.“I wanted to test a new magic trick I conceptualized,” he tells her. “You strike me as a clever woman so I thought you might be an appropriate trial subject.”
“You have good instincts, Doctor. I’m honest and opinionated regardless of the situation. Thus, you can trust I won’t be buttering you up for the sake of preserving peace.”
“That’s just what I want to hear. Okay, let’s begin. Think of a number. Keep it from one to ten. Because I’m a neophyte magician, I can’t afford to go overboard just yet.”
“All right,” she says after a pause. “I’ve thought of a number.”
“I’m trying to read your mind now.” He massages his temples to drum up some drama. “Ah, something is flickering within your skull. It’s blurry, though. I have an idea. Under this table, hold up as many fingers as the number you’re envisioning.”
“You’re not going to cheat with a mirror, are you?”
“No. I don’t condone cheating. Not even a little bit. It’s just that thoughts tend to become much clearer and easier to read when the thinker physically demonstrates them in some manner.”
Surreptitiously, he presses his right palm against the surface of the table. He activates his Nen ability, which functions similarly to an X-ray. He waits for the radiographic imagery in his brain to discern the digit that she’s signalling beneath the table.
However, no numbers appear.
“Are you already holding up your fingers under the table?” he asks.
“No, and I don’t plan to,” she answers. “I have no interest in playing the fool. I know you’re attempting to utilize your Nen ability to cheat even though you <i>just</i> said you wouldn’t.” She holds up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “Save it. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s deception. I need you to [[leave]]. Right now.”“I wanted to hone my fortune-telling abilities,” he tells her. “You strike me as a woman with tons of worldly experience. Those are my favorite types to read.”
“I’ve certainly seen, heard, tasted, smelled, and felt things not many others in this speakeasy have. And I won’t say no to learning a fraction of my future. Apparently, Greed Island has its own resident seer, but she’s a character notoriously difficult to encounter. Upon the game’s launch, the quest leading to that character is expected to result in a high fatality rate.”
“Don’t worry,” he assures her. “My future-reading methods are totally risk-free.”
“So what are you going to do? Will you whip out a crystal ball from your pocket or something?”
“Nope. No crystal balls. I do have other balls I can whip out for you, but that part can come later, right?” When the woman remains silent, he gets them back on track. “Anyway! Give me your hand so I can read your palm.”
She extends her hand toward him. Upon taking it, he gazes at the lines etched on her palm. He hums as if the creases are as compelling to him as the top-shelf magazines from his teenage years.
“So what do I have in store for me, Doctor?” she asks.
“A significant figure is arriving soon in your life, or perhaps has very recently arrived. Look, this palmar flexion crease is uncommonly long. I’m guessing this signifies that the stranger boasts an above-average height.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m simply interpreting what your hand is communicating to me. Ah, check out these crossed lines over here. These indicate a warning. Listen carefully. Something about this significant stranger will intimidate you. He may even seem too good to be true. But you can’t back out. You can’t run away. Once this agent of change draws close, you must spread your limbs and welcome him inside. If you do as I tell you, your life will improve by leaps and bounds.”
“Yes, I can see everything clearly now,” she murmurs.
“That is indeed the best thing you can do. If you clearly and consistently envision your dreams, you can eventually actualize them with the power of positivity.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m onto you. You’re trying to con me into sleeping with you, aren’t you?”
He adopts a scandalized tone. “What? No. I don’t even <i>sleep</i> with women. I only spend quality time with them.”
“Enough. Your shoddy attempts at trickery won’t work on me. I must ask you to [[leave]]. Right now.”As demanded, he gets up and leaves her alone. He should’ve known a cheap trick like that wouldn’t work on a woman like her.
Would he have succeeded if he just engaged in a straightforward and sincere conversation with her? Maybe.
But that doesn’t matter now. He’s already been locked out of her route, at least for tonight. He supposes he can wait until next week, hunt for her in the speakeasy, and try to woo her again.
<<if $reject == "true">>But the prospect of striking out once more in such a [[humiliating]] manner is mortifying.
<<else>>But the prospect of striking out once more in such an [[embarrassing]] manner is mortifying.
<</if>>Everything in moderation, right?
“I’ll pass,” Leorio tells Zepile.
“Are you sure? I’m going to throw this out if you don’t want it. List scheduled a meeting with all the workers in the castle at the crack of dawn. The last thing I need is to smell like I’ve been partying all night.”
Leorio should [[stick to his guns]]. But when Zepile puts it that way, it’s difficult not to reconsider accepting the [[herb]].<<set $blunt to "true">>“I want it,” Leorio admits. “Good stuff like that’s hard to come by, and Basho always has top-tier supply.”
“Great. It’s all yours, then.”
Leorio takes the baggie and stuffs it into his pocket. Now he has a treat for later if everything comes crashing down. He certainly doesn’t regret coming over to talk to Zepile.
Leorio should ask his friend [[how it’s going]].“Yeah, you should throw it away,” Leorio says. “I’m not in the proper headspace to get baked either.”
“If you say so.” With this, Zepile chucks the baggie into a nearby trash can.
Even though Leorio chose for that to happen, seeing that perfectly good weed go to waste still causes a twinge of regret.
Should he dig through the garbage to save the drugs? No, he can’t do that! What sort of nonsense is he thinking? He hasn’t sunk so low as to be classified as a high-functioning burnout like Basho, has he?
To distract himself from his baser desires, he should ask Zepile [[how it’s going]].“So how’s your night been shaping up so far?” Leorio inquires. “What are you still doing here all alone?”
“I’m on the lookout for someone special.”
“You’re not waiting for the Chameleon, are you? I’m in the camp that believes she’s just a rumor the bartender invented as a marketing strategy. A character like her would be too perfect if she actually existed.”
Zepile swigs the last remnants of his wine. “I’m telling you. The Chameleon is one-hundred-percent real. But she’s not the one I’m waiting for tonight.”
As if on cue, a woman comes up and squeezes Zepile’s arm. “Hey, handsome. I wanted to look my best for you so I put on a fresh face of makeup. Do you like it?”
“Of course I do,” Zepile replies. “You look like a movie star.”
She giggles. “A movie star, huh? You’re such a tease. ”
“Are you ready to go?” Zepile asks her. When the woman nods, he gets up. He directs his next words toward Leorio. “I’m heading out first, man. Don’t lose hope. When it comes down to it, this dating sim is just a numbers game. As long as you keep trying — again and again and again — you’ll come across the right one soon enough.”
Energized by Zepile’s parting words, Leorio balls his hands into fists and promises himself he won’t give up.
<<if $doll == "true">>Perhaps he should take his chances with the [[silver fox]] he noticed earlier.
<<else>>Perhaps he should take his chances with the [[done-up doll]] he noticed earlier.
<</if>>Just then, the jazzy piano music catches his attention. At the far side of the room, the red-headed pianist is stroking the ivories like she means it.
Mind clouded with the substances he’s consumed, he closes his eyes and lets the beauty of the tinkling keys cascade over him.
He opens his eyes only when the song ends. He and several other customers clap and cheer.
The pianist rises from the bench and curtsies. As always, her cute dimples display themselves when she beams.
After the applause subsides, the pianist once again takes a seat. She flexes her fingers but doesn’t continue playing. Because she gave the last song her all, she might be taking a break to rest her hands.
Leorio addresses the bartender. “Hey, what kind of liquor does the pianist usually drink?”
The bartender strokes his mustache. “Are you interested in her, Mr. Paladiknight?”
“Maybe. She’s a pursuable NPC like every other woman in the speakeasy, I’m presuming?”
“Since you’re the developer’s darling, I’m not opposed to giving you a hint. The pianist is very dedicated to her work. Whenever she’s playing, she refrains from ingesting even the most minute amounts of alcohol or narcotics.”
Leorio sighs. “That’s a shame. I usually let the liquor do the heavy lifting in convincing the ladies that I’m not a total ogre. But I’ll give this a go anyway. Can you please mix a virgin piña colada for me?”
“Certainly, Mr. Paladiknight.”
Once he’s armed with the mocktail, Leorio approaches the grand piano. With his free hand, he waves hello to the pianist.
Her pale face, framed by fiery long hair, remains impassive. “Can I help you?”
“I, uh, I just wanted to tell you. . . .”
What <i>does</i> he want to tell her? Why in the world did he walk here without a plan? [[Praising]] her piano-playing seems like the obvious choice, but [[negging]] has worked wonders for him in the past.The pianist did play exceptionally well. He should just be honest about that.
“I wanted to tell you that you’ve got something special,” he says. “I come here night after night, and your piano-playing has consistently exceeded all expectations. Your music never fails to elevate the Wildin experience as a whole. One of my friends on the island is also a musician. She tells me it’s a taxing job. Yet you make it look so easy. Keep it up.”
“Thank you. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
She flashes another dimpled smile. [[Nailed it]].Yes, the pianist was playing excellently just now, but he needs to keep her on her toes if he wants a chance with her.
“I wanted to tell you that you’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says.
“I’m sorry?”
“I noticed you missed a few notes,” he lies, “but I don’t believe anybody else was paying close attention like I was. So you’re all good. Besides, if anyone dares to boo, I’ll set them straight right away. It can’t be easy playing this instrument incessantly every night, after all.”
“Yes, it’s tough. I tried my best to inject my last piece with as much passion as I could muster. It’s too bad the end result wasn’t up to your standard. If you stick around, maybe you’ll eventually hear me play something that’s more your speed.”
“You know what? I just might. Who else is going to keep you in line? I’ll bet the other guys here are always being disingenuous whenever they speak with you. They probably tell you you’re a genius who can do no wrong. But how are you ever going to improve if nobody keeps it real with you?”
She nods. “I see what you mean. I appreciate your honest and constructive criticism.”
She rewards his so-called honesty with another dimpled smile. [[Nailed it]].After his losses tonight, this positive interaction with his current target fills him with newfound hope.
He offers her the mocktail in his hand. “Care for a virgin piña colada? I’m guessing you prefer to keep a clear head while wowing the room with your musical chops.”
“You guessed correctly. Once again, thank you.”
Since she’s accepted the drink, he’s itching to move things along. “So are you going to start playing again? I’m sure people won’t mind too much if you take a break. Come hang out with me.”
“Hang out with you? What exactly do you want to do?”
Great question. He wants her bound, gagged, blindfolded, and spanked. Admitting this aloud would have most women — whether in Wildin or beyond — clutching their pearls. But it’s been a long night. His body is screaming for all its aches to be assuaged as speedily as possible.
Maybe he should just [[shoot straight]] and tell her exactly what he requires from her. Then again, he may need a little more finesse to persuade her to leave with him. The [[door-in-the-face technique]] might be the answer.This pianist might perceive him as more worthy of respect if he quits dilly-dallying and gets to the point. Besides, since she’s on the job, she probably doesn’t have the time for anything other than a quick encounter, which is exactly what he’s craving at the moment.
He steels himself before launching into his next words. “What do I want, you ask? I want <i>you.</i> Right now. Bent over the counter in the bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties yanked down.”
After a few seconds of silence, the pianist holds out her untouched drink to him. He takes it, then offers his free hand to help her up from the bench. But she doesn’t [[accept it]].This strategy is something he learned from his social psychology textbook. He’s tested it a number of times, with varying results. He’s ready to take the risk now.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says.
“But I’m working,” she responds.
“Aren’t you always? You’ve got to learn how to relax and let yourself go from time to time. We can ditch the speakeasy and go wildin’ out someplace where nobody can stop us. We can spend the night learning about the secret nooks and crannies of the world. And of each other, more importantly.”
“I’m enjoying your enthusiasm. Unfortunately, you’re wasting it on me. Maybe you should try looking for somebody more adventurous.”
“I feel like the two of us are meant for so much more,” he insists. “If we get to know each other, we can figure out how to harness and maximize that potential.”
“Can’t we do that by conversing? We don’t have to go anywhere else.”
“But we can only get to know each other on a soul-deep level if we’re alone. Here in the speakeasy’s public area, there’s too much going on around us. Hang on, I have an idea. Hear me out.”
She nods encouragingly.
He runs his thumb over his scruffy jaw in a contemplative manner. “The back rooms are surely full by this time of the night. And the brothel is a no-go since you want to stay as close to your workplace as possible. Ergo, we should go to the bathroom. It’s cramped, but at least it’s private. It’s perfect for our purposes, in other words.”
Seconds pass in silence, then the pianist says, “Oh, I get it.”
“Get what?”
She holds out the untouched mocktail to him. With some confusion, he steps forward to [[accept it]].The pianist’s face turns deadly serious. “I’m going to say something now, and I want you to stay quiet until I’m done. Absorb my words, and let them marinate. When you came up to talk to me about music, I thought you might be a breath of fresh air. But I understand now that you’re just as bad as every other man here. You see women as means to an end. We’re nothing but objects to you. Sex dolls you can use as you please before casting us aside without a second thought.”
“But I’m just doing what everyone else —”
The rest of his sentence is drowned out as, without warning, the pianist recommences banging on the keys in front of her. Her eyes are trained on the pages of her booklet of sheet music. Her face doesn’t flicker when he tries waving to win back her attention.
Just like that, he’s ceased to exist in her universe. His game is over with yet another target. This might, in fact, be the most brutal rejection he’s received so far. Her censure of his treatment of women lingers like a death knell against his eardrums.
But the NPCs aren’t real, are they? Isn’t he simply using them for their intended purpose?
This issue raised by the pianist opens up a can of worms he isn’t ready to face. At this moment, he’s not even going to try. The question requiring more immediate attention is whether anybody close by witnessed her calling him out. That would only add salt to the wound.
As he’s scanning the area, he spots something that makes his heart stutter.
Within the shadows behind the piano, someone is sitting alone and staring at him. Silver chains shimmer over the slender fingers of the spectator’s right hand.
Leorio’s boozed-up brain must be deceiving him. Or is it actually showing him <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/48258055/chapters/122132656" target="_blank">the real thing?</a><i><b>Author's note:</b> Please be warned that this story may contain depictions of depression, addiction, alcohol abuse or alcoholism, recreational drug use, and implied sexual content.
If you are amenable to such content, [[please proceed|START]].</i>