Red in the Water

The Cardsharp Monkey could be found, as usual, in a pub off Wolfstack Docks. The Monkey was, however, not aware of his state of quantum flux, an existence between several hundreds of thousands of alternate states determined only through observation. When the Morbid Socialite entered the pub and spotted the Cardsharp Monkey, the quantum state entered a fixed point, skewered in place by a particular person keeping his eyes on him.

The Socialite looked back outside and waved the Soft-Hearted Maven in, gesturing with his head to the still static Monkey. The Monkey was unaware of any of this, focused on his hand and his rivals. It glowered between two remaining players before laying down its hand with a strong, authoritative, chimpish noise. The other players muttered oaths and dropped their hands on the table, watching hatefully as the Monkey took his winnings.

The Socialite placed a hand between the Monkey and the deck before the next hand could be shuffled and distributed. "Before you go on," they said, "we would like a word." They nodded to the other players. "Gentlemen."

The two players picked up the hint and, likely preferring not to lose anything more, decided now was as good a time as any to cut their losses and head for the bar.

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From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

The Soft-Hearted Maven followed the Morbid Socialite into the pub. Before coming, she had politely requested that her Beechwood remain at home, even asking the Brash Devil to play cards with him and offering Beechwood whatever vintage of wine he wanted. This seemed enough, perhaps the former theologian found the idea of playing cards with a devil funny enough to acquiesce. Maven was sure by the end Derek would be flipping the table in his frustration over this whole thing, (he wasn't a bad player, but he did not have the skill Beechwood had) but it was one less variable in this whole situation, one more way to ensure they have the result they wanted. If all was done right, this should be the Socialite's Beechwood.

She and the Socialite took their seats across from Beechwood, Maven studying the monkey before her. She remembered him like this. The tired, closed off air that she now recognized as one with a heavy weight on his shoulders, so focused on trying to achieve his goal and so reluctant to trust anyone. Of course, by this point little bits of his personality had begun to show too, like how funny he could be in his own silently snarky way. Still, it was something to compare this Beechwood and the one she knew. How the moment the Marvellous was gone he had seemed so much lighter, more at ease....

She hoped she and Mori would be able to help this Beechwood be just as free and light as the one she knew.

She nodded her head towards Beechwood in greeting, but waited for Mori to do the introductions between them.

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Monkey reluctantly set aside his cards and looked up at the Socialite. The look he gave communicated everything from surprise to apathy with an overtone of cynicism. The Monkey felt betrayed and made it very clear.

The Socialite took the brunt of the look with a sigh. "I know what you must be thinking, but I would like us to start with introductions." He gestured to the Maven. "This is the Soft-Hearted Maven. Dear Maven, the Cardsharp Monkey." Even knowing his name, the Socialite refused to pull back the curtain, reveal his hand too soon. Allow the Monkey to think he knows nothing.

The Monkey gave a curt nod. He was polite, but he was, above all, tired. He didn't know what this was about and he rather wanted it to be over with, but the Socialite hadn't looked him in the eye all false-summer, since he quit the Marvellous. If they were coming to him now, it was likely for something important.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

"Very nice to meet you," Maven nodded once more after being introduced, "Sorry to come by so suddenly, but there's something the Morbid Socialite needs to speak to you about."

She reached into her bag, pulling out a jar of prisoner honey and placing it where the stakes for the game go as she said, "And while they do, perhaps you'd be interested in playing a round with us?"

She felt bad playing into what she knew was a vice of his. Not just the honey, but his compulsion for cards and gambling. It was one thing to offer such to her Beechwood, when there was less at stake (for him at least), he was less in the throes of it and in a better mental space. It was another to manipulate one still so entrenched in his 'situation.' But she knew he would be compelled to accept and play it out, confident in his victory. Which was fine, he likely would win. All they needed was to keep him engaged and open to listening to them. To give them time to convince him to help them get Mori back into the game, and that they could be beneficial to each other.

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Monkey looked between the two and the jar of honey. He gnawed on his knuckle with a sharp canine, thinking, before nodding with a soft grunt. He put his cards back in the deck and put them in the middle of the table. The one with the proposal always shuffled and dealt.

The Socialite took the reliable, old cards, tapping their edge against the table to get them aligned before beginning to shuffle. He was slow, distracted maybe. The Monkey watched it with intensity. "I suppose the next course of action would be an apology. I stepped away, leaving you to this place and to some unknown player. It was wrong of me to do so without warning or explanation, but I do have an explanation. Doubtful you'd want to hear it." The Socialite began to deal the cards, turning over one card in his metaphorical hand: he knew there was a new Seventh Player chosen.

The Monkey 'smiled'. To those unfamiliar, it may have seemed friendly, placating, if awkward and chimpish. To those familiar, it was a baring of teeth, a sarcastic gesture of appeasement. Still, the Monkey accepted the cards and fanned them before him in a curled paw.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven accepted her cards from the Socialite, fanning hers out as well. A decent hand to start...

As the Socialite spoke and the game began, she watched Beechwood to see if she could read any of his tells: the twitch of fur when he bluffs, the scratching of an ear when he wonders if he should have folded, and many others she learned from the final days-long match between the two of them that left them both drained and exhausted. The two of them had employed every strategy against each other that by the end both their minds were like open books, so easy to read. If there was anything that may give her the feeling that she might win, it's the fact that she knows this Beechwood much more than he knows her.

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Socialite let slip a sneer, looking at his hand. The Monkey caught it with ease, before he had the chance to stuff it down. Still, the Socialite continued. "In speaking with Cora and with Jane, however, I've come to the conclusion you're a reasonable... chimp. Surely, you'd understand, if I told you."

The second card played: Cora Bagley. The Monkey bristled, but didn't let a single facial muscle twitch.

The first stack of chips were pushed in. The Monkey matched the bet and raised it by several coins. He pursed his lips, sure of his hand against the Socialite, perhaps forgetting their third player.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven pushed her chips in as well as she spoke, "As you know, the Mori had his own Heart's Desire that drove him to the Marvellous. Something that seemed only attainable through something like this game. During the course of the summer, however, another opportunity arose to attain it. And as I'm sure you understand, any opportunity to not be obliged to the Marvellous and to the Masters is one worth taking."

Another card played: the fact that she knew about the Marvellous. It was little more than an oddity at this point, the fact that this outsider is aware of the Marvellous, but the fact that she spoke with such authority on the matter would probably raise an eyebrow.

Plus an appeal to the obvious fact: that the Marvellous is a sick and dangerous game, one that traps the losers in a perpetual cycle to eventually win and the winner to achieve either a Pyrrhic victory or at least one with a far greater cost than expected. Some common ground, an opinion all three could agree on.

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Monkey clicked his teeth together and made a suspicious grunt. He was starting to pick up that his opponents didn't have the hand they first seemed to come in with. Whether it was better or worse than he'd guessed, he wasn't sure yet, scratching idly.

The Socialite let his bluff slip, pushing in more chips. "However, one's Heart's Desire can change. Between the heart growing fonder or colder, it's difficult to say with certainty, but one never has only one goal in their whole life. When one is achieved, but not enough, a person may even be tempted to rejoin, we're that not against the rules."

The Monkey froze. The whites of his eyes were stark as he stared up at his opponents. Did they know? Or were they implying something else? Or... Was it both? He palmed a chip and pushed it into the pile, a raise by one. It fell off the stack and rolled into the Socialite's field.

He stopped it from rolling with a finger against the edge. "As we all know, however, you can always back out before the game starts. But, once the game starts, no matter the rules, all seven are locked in. Even a repeat. Or a traitor." With careful precision, he placed the chip back in the pile, balancing it on the edge. The Monkey looked back up at the Socialite. "The game is a vice, but it has a weakness. One I'm certain you're aware of: the winner's desire."

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven nodded, pushing in some more chips as well as she looked between Beechwood and her cards, "The winner will get their Heart's Desire, as much as the Masters are able to fulfill it. There may need to be concessions for what they can't do-" a dangerous thing just then, implying there are things the Masters can't do so casually, "-but if there is a simple desire, one that wouldn't take much in the way to fulfill, it's possible to gain victory without too great a cost save for that which is made playing the game in the first place. Of course, most don't enter such a game with a simple, each to fulfill desire." As she said 'most' she made sure to look Beechwood in the eyes.

From:

themorbidsocialite

"Most, but not all. With a desire so simple, all it requires is an... absence of action on the Master's part. What a breath of fresh air, to not have to lift a finger ever again."

The Monkey stared between the two, eyes darting. He scratched his head, blew between his lips, and dropped the hand, folding. Three aces. They had him cornered. He tapped the rest of the deck, however. They have a plan. Out with it. Enough playing coy.

The Socialite shared a smile with the Maven and folded, showing his hand. Two twos. He'd been playing with a poor hand, but that mattered nothing when his bluff was never called. "We just need your help. A sort of... alliance. Most of all, we need information."

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

"We want to know who the new seventh player is," Maven said as she folded her own hand, laying her cards on the table as she spoke, "We would like to be able to talk with them, convince them to drop out and let Mori rejoin the Marvellous. I'm sure this seventh player has their own Heart's Desire, one that they feel strongly enough about to enter into this game. But if Mori were to rejoin, I think you would find that your goals and his are more... aligned, and it would be more beneficial for you to have him rejoin."

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Monkey looked from the Maven to the Socialite and squinted. And he could trust him again why?

The Socialite chuckled. "Well, no need to look so distrusting. I have what I was after before. My daughter is alive and at home."

The Monkey hesitated, looking away and scratching his back. It always hurt when he played against people with desires founded in love rather than passion. But he had no time to waffle. He put both hands on the table with a grunt. And his new motivation?

"I have my motivations, Gregory, just as you do," the Socialite said solemnly. "We're aligned in desire. I just need my foot in the door."

The Monkey lingered on that last, metaphorical card in the hand, turning over that name in his head. It'd been so long... He eventually picked up the deck and shuffled in a peculiar way. He pulled a trio of cards and presented them. Pick a card, he seemed to say with a chimpish grin, any card.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven couldn't help but laugh a little at the showmanship. She loved when Beechwood did stuff like this. She picked the card nearest to her and looks at it.

From:

themorbidsocialite

The ace of diamonds. On its own, the card was rather insignificant unless set up with certain hands. In a proper game of cards, it could be paired with other aces or in a flush. Metaphorically, a diamond was wealth without royalty, beauty without power. The color red pertaining to blood or anarchy or roses or, with specific references to gemstones, rubies. The ace, a master of one's trade, top of the line, number one.

The Socialite took a card as well. A jack of clubs. Clubs, the symbol of blunt armament, of nature, or of a group of people. Black in a field of white, a sole figure standing alone, the loose cannon. The jack, the action taker, not the best, but the border between the common rabble and royalty.

Beechwood finally showed his. The king of hearts, head and shoulders above the rest, but costing everything with a sword through his head held by his own hand.

Three leads. Or four, as Beechwood tapped that ever so reliable deck box out on the table, unceremoniously revealing a strip of red silk. That's when the Socialite realized. "This isn't your usual deck. I've seen you play before - I've even played against you - you've never used a deck this old. Does this belong to--"

Beechwood nodded his head, lips curled in a "now you're getting it" sort of expression. He pressed those lips together, though. That was all he could really give without words. They would have to figure out the rest on their own. But he did hope they would return successful. He'd hate to lose a regained alliance.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven pursed her lips in thought. It would be difficult getting a name from Beechwood, not without a translator... But perhaps there was still some bit of information they could get.

She picked a few chips, laying them in a carefully considered way on the table. It seemed random at first glance until she pointed to one of the chips, "If this is the Wolfstack Docks, where would be the best place to start looking?"

Ah, it was a map. Or at least, a close approximation of one. In general maps were not very useful in London with the ever shifting streets, which most Londoners grew used to them and knew the way to get where they needed to go. Still, there remained the general sense for where everything's 'place' was. Like Watchmaker's Hill being 'southeast' from the docks, and that Spite was 'south' of the Flit. Once you knew what you were looking at you could place the chips with the respective areas as the average Londoner knew them. So while a detailed map may have been useless for pointing them in the right direction, this could be a way of narrowing down the search.

From:

themorbidsocialite

Beechwood gnawed on a finger knuckle and took all three cards back. The scrap of silk, he placed to the northeast of Wolfstack, between Spite and the Flit: Mrs Plenty's Carnival.

The jack of clubs was brought all the way to Ladybones Road and just a little north: Concord Square.

The ace of diamonds sat prettily between Veilgarden and the University, in a space unlabelled, but known to be among the well to do.

The king of hearts... That was their personal clue. It had no place, no details, but maybe it could be used as confirmation, once they'd put the clues together.

Mori looked over the information and nodded, noting it all down on a pad of paper. "They're good headings. If we only investigate one, will it give us enough answers?"

Beechwood sneered. Maybe. Depended on how good of detectives they were. But he found October - Beechwood indicated with miming sleep - so it shouldn't be the hardest.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven made her own notes on the cards/silk and the locations. She looked at the list, then over to Mori, "Hmm.... perhaps we should start with the carnival, it's the closest."

She turned to look at Beechwood, "Thank you for the clues, and for your trust." Perhaps she was jumping the gun with calling this trust rather than staking a claim on a gamble. Because from Beechwood's perspective, that's probably what it was. A gamble with a somewhat more appealing and convincing chance of things turning out in his favor, but still a gamble regardless.

From:

themorbidsocialite

What was faith and trust, if not an ongoing gamble on the moral sanctity of the people you were trusting. He was willing to bet on this horse again, even after the last loss. Couldn't that be enough?

"Thank you so much. We'll be back with news, I promise."

A similar promise had been reneged before, but a thirty percent win streak was still higher than zero. Beechwood waved them out and began shuffling again. His virtue, his vice, found in the cards.

Meanwhile, Mori gestured up the street. "To the Carnival?"

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven nodded, "Yes, let's go!" As they headed towards the Carnival she smiled at Mori, "You did wonderfully back there."

From:

themorbidsocialite

Mori blushed, linking arms with the Maven. "Oh, stop, you're an incorrigible flatterer. Where would I be without your honey pot idea? Or your initial gambit to start us off? You're as clever as they come and more."

They eventually arrived at the Carnival, surrounded by performers, game masters, guests, salesmen, and watched over by the great eye of iron that dipped below the earth: Beneath the Neath. All it was now was a matter of determining who to ask.

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven giggled a little, bringing up her other hand to rest on Mori's arm, "I could easily say the same for you. You did such a great job convincing Beechwood, laying everything out slowly. You were just as clever, my dear."

Once they arrived she looked around, "Okay, so the carnival pertained to the bit of red silk..."

From:

themorbidsocialite

"Hm... If it were something an average guest could tell us about, I doubt we'd be directed here. Perhaps we can find a staff member who knows something? Someone who's been here for some time. I doubt we can get an audience with Mrs. Plenty herself and Madame Soshana is unlikely to give us a plain answer..." Mori considered the booths, stalls, and tents.

The tightrope walker was just finishing her minor act before the next big performance in the tent. She affectionately patted the snout of one of the crocodiles in the tank and washed her face with a moist towel. She'd been established at the carnival for quite some time, so her posters said. A reliable act that people were always at least moderately wowed by. Lately, she'd been practicing with timing her act to the fraying of the rope so she always gave her grand finish as soon as the rope went slack.

And looked like she was open to chat.

Edited Date: 23 Sep 2025 15:45 (UTC)

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven's eyes fell on the tightrope walker. It seemed as good a place as any to start. She approached the performer, "Hello? Sorry to disturb you, would it be okay if we asked some questions?"

From:

themorbidsocialite

The Established Tightrope Walker looked up and gave an appeasing smile. "Sorry, luvs, just finished my act. If you want to catch the next show, I'll be performing in the big tent."

The Socialite had followed, shaking his head. "I apologize, but this isn't about the performance. What do you know about red silk?"

The Tightrope Walker froze as she worked. She breathed. "People are still talking about that night, eh? You'd think, after five years, the rumor mill would've dried..."

From:

the_soft_hearted_maven

Maven briefly considered how to approach this, deciding to remain vague on what they know as she said, "I can see this is a difficult subject, but we would really appreciate any information you can give us about this."

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A man of honeyed words and bloodied hands.

Red in the Water