Red or Black

Red or Black Part of Arc 2 ← Mission 6 Event 6 → Release Date May 19, 2012 End Date May 19, 2012 Author(s) Luvaci Illustrator(s) PurpleKecleon Links Name's Royce Do not touch me Excellent... Sounds like it's decided ...Uh...Pal?

The King’s Rock Casino. Some would say it was in the spotlight of Alomomola Bay. All over the region, Pokemon would plan their travels just to try their luck. Some were simply interested in low stakes while they did some sightseeing. Others wanted to build upon their already-vast riches...

Then there were the desperate ones. With nowhere else to turn for their monetary woes, trying their luck was the last resort. Either they would get back on their feet, or lose it all. Truly the most tragic of the lot, they were still treated the same in the eyes of the casino’s owners... until they went into debt, that is.

The Smeargle that was unceremoniously tossed into the head office looked to be more of the tragic sort. High-rollers didn’t often land face-first in the carpet when sent to meet the head of the operation.

“Well well... so nice of you to drop in,” a deep, calm voice rang out from across the room. It sounded friendly enough...

The Smeargle had to pick himself up off of the floor, having been lightly crushed under the rucksack he had been carrying on his back. He was greeted by the sight of a lush office, carpeted and neatly furnished. Everything within seemed to be themed with red and black colors or patterns. The carpet itself had red and black lines going all along it in a circular pattern, each line meeting at the middle. It was reminiscent of one of the casino’s roulette wheels.

Black lanterns hung on red walls, just as a black chandelier hung on the red ceiling. It had an overall ritzy, eccentric feel of someone who wanted this room just the way they liked it. Across from the Smeargle, seated behind a black desk, was that someone. A Slowking, bearing a natural neck frill of the same two colors as everything else in the room. He was reclined in some sort of fancy chair that allowed him to lean backward without falling.

The Slowking grinned widely, leaning out of his reclined position to place his paws upon his desk. It made him look a bit less lazy and a bit more active, though how true either of those things were was anyone’s guess. “We do have business, hm? But let us get acquainted...” he began, putting on a smile that would unsettle any visitor, “name’s Royce. I run this fine establishment. And you are..?”

The Smeargle dusted himself off, hoisting the straps of his rucksack around his shoulders. He looked the Slowking straight in the eyes, not nearly as amused or friendly.

“... Pal. My name is Pal,” he introduced himself apprehensively. Even from those few words, his accent was obvious, which caused an intrigued rise of the brow from Royce when he heard it.

“Yeah yeah, Pal... listen, Pal,” the Slowking began. He swiveled his chair so that it turned halfway around, now ominously facing away from his visitor as he went on, still rather unsettling in his tone, “I’m told you’ve accrued a debt of 100,000 Poke in a doubled-up bet. Classic case of trying to swindle the house with money you don’t have. Now... obviously we’ve got a problem here, but I’m curious. What were you thinking, placing a bet that would put you so far in the hole?”

“That is none of your business.”

Pal was quick to shoot back at the question, appearing rather upset, though no less calm than the Slowking he was speaking to. He noticed the chair stop all movement for a moment, before it swiveled back around. Royce didn’t appear angry, but the smile had left his face after that remark.

“Fair enough. The money is my business,” Royce stated, leaning forward over his desk and settling his elbows on it so that he could clasp his fingers together. “Unfortunately, such a vast unpaid debt can generally only be handled very cruelly. We cannot just let everyone think they can come in here, lose that much Poke, and leave like nothing is wrong, right?”

Even when he was basically threatening someone else, Royce sounded so friendly. It must have taken years of practice to be able to say such things with a straight face.

Still, Pal did not appear intimidated. At least, not so far. “What is it you want from me, then? Rough me up so you flex your muscles to others?”

This question put a grin on Royce’s face. “Not exactly... we could very well make an example of you, to be certain. However, it would be much more gruesome than we tell others,” he explained, as cheerfully as ever, “since we don’t want them to be afraid of our business.”

That was when Royce stood up, and began pacing around to the front of his desk. His eyes were on Pal the whole time. Not just staring him down, either. More like... sizing him up. “It would be a shame though...”

Pal finally reacted to having the Slowking move closer, taking a single step back. He immediately regretted it as he saw the grin on Royce’s face grow wider, expertly spotting that hint of weakness. The fellow was so seedy, it was hard to feel comfortable being anywhere near him.

“I have a bit of a... personal interest, you see,” Royce began, leaning back against the front of his desk and crossing his arms. His head tilted downward slightly, to the point that his eyes were mildly shadowed by the large, natural shell upon his head. “I fancy the way you look as you are. I’d hate to have to order my subordinates to sever that lovely tail of yours over this nasty little debt, you know?”

The threat hit Pal more noticeably that time. The idea of cutting off a Smeargle’s tail was rather harsh, after all. However, his eyes only widened for a moment before he caught himself, and calmed back down. This was not a place in which he should continue to show fear. Though he felt like cringing with frustration, he managed to turn it into a confident grin of sorts. “Excuse me for being such a burden on your conscience, then.”

Royce only tilted his head back and laughed. “More than you know! That’s why I’m willing to offer you a deal.” The Slowking finally stood upright from his previous leaning position, approaching the Smeargle. He was much taller, dwarfing the painter Pokemon once the two stood before each other.

This forced Pal to look up in order to see Royce’s face. He didn’t back off from being approached, admittedly a little confused at what the Slowking was talking about. Just then, a large palm touching against Pal’s cheek answered all of his questions. It was a soft caress. It made the Smeargle’s eyes widen as the pieces started falling into place for him.

This only made Royce chuckle. “A little slow, are you? Tourists usually are,” he commented. His voice was becoming softer, as though to show a degree of infatuation. “It’s no matter. Why don’t we get to know each other a little better, and I’ll forget all about that silly debt. Perhaps a nice dinner... to start with. Much better than the violent alternative, wouldn’t you say?”

For a few moments, Pal was speechless. The tone in Royce’s voice was clearly lecherous, taking any innocence out of his roundabout way of speaking. The last thing he expected was to be taken advantage of like this. The choices he was being given... either one was terrible. Anyone would buckle under them, caught between a rock and a hard place.

However, that was not in the cards for him.

“Do not touch me,” Pal demanded, smacking the Slowking’s thicker arm away from his face.

Royce looked shocked for a moment. His smooth talk in such dire situations often pulled all manner of emotion out of others. Fear, or perhaps gratitude... never such confident defiance. It made him feel angry, and it certainly showed.

“I’ve had hardships, monsieur Royce. I came here only with the desire of a chance to set them straight. I may have failed...” Pal trailed off as he reached behind himself, digging one of his paws into that rucksack he’d been carrying. From it, he pulled a pouch bulging with pokedollars. With both paws, he shoved it against the Slowking’s rounded belly, forcing the larger Pokemon to grasp it himself, lest it fall on the floor. “... but I will not hand my dignity over to you.”

Royce held the pouch he was given up for a closer look. Having been in the business for years, he only needed to feel the weight and know the money was legitimate to be able to tell a ballpark estimate of how much it was.

“100,000...” he confirmed. A grin once again came over the Slowking’s face. He peered down at the Smeargle, who was looking right back up at him, as though he were gazing into the eyes of an evil giant. “You restricted yourself to gamble with half of your funds, and waited to hear the consequences before showing it. Clever.”

It was a bit impressive that Royce could deduce such a thing, not knowing all the details. Given that Pal had initially lost a bet with 100,000 Poke, and was now showing 100,000 more, it was a good guess. It was also correct.

The Slowking couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t any sort of dreadful, ominous laugh, either. It was genuine amusement. “Haha! I’m impressed!” he exclaimed with delight, turning around and walking a few steps away from Pal. He joined his arms together behind his back, letting the pouch of money hang back there as he explained, “It’s always a drag dealing with those who don’t prepare to pay the debts that they’ve brought upon themselves. It’s refreshing to see someone who isn’t so blinded by desperation that they forget about responsibility.”

Pal was quite relieved. This could have gone worse... much worse. If Royce were any seedier, it most likely would have. At least this business was somewhat legitimate. “Then I may return home, now?” he asked, though he let some of that stoic front he was putting on falter, feeling it no longer necessary to be apprehensive and stand his ground.

“Yeah, yeah... I have no business with you if you’re paid up,” Royce admitted. “I assume you’ll be going home completely broke,” he continued on as he approached his desk, pausing to sit in his chair once more, “and that’s certainly a shame in its own right. Is that really what you want?”

This caught Pal’s attention. He could feel that apprehension returning, letting his head turn away slightly. “I told you before, my situation is none of your business.”

“Oh, certainly! I just like your style, so I thought you might like to hear a different sort of deal. If you don’t like it, you’re free to refuse.” Royce settled the bag of money he was given on his desk and patted it once, as though to accentuate that the offer involved it somehow.

It seemed harmless to listen, if he could leave afterwards. “Very well. Tell me your deal,” Pal accepted, looking upon Royce with great skepticism. It was hard to believe anything he could say at this point would be convincing.

However, the confident smile Royce had lead to the idea that he thought differently. “I will offer you a final, private gamble. Another doubled-up bet with all of your money, right here in my office. If you win... 400,000 Poke, straight into your paws.”

This reeked of being too good to be true. Pal didn’t buy it. On the other hand... that was enough to have a nice home built for himself and Palette. It was what he came here for. “And if I do not win..?”

Royce performed an almost playful spin in his chair, all the way around in a full circle. The suspense was only broken after he was finished. “You’d be surprised at the sorts of things you can be put through on a stage. Utter humiliation, invasion of your personal space, outright torture... it’s all part of the act, as far as the audience is concerned. Though, you could willingly sign on as some of our... night entertainment, and things would be much easier on you...”

Again with the thinly-veiled perverse ideas. “That is horrible! Stop looking at me in such a light!” Pal exclaimed. He wasn’t so much stoic anymore, instead quite frustrated. No one had treated him like this before, and he really didn’t appreciate it.

“Alright alright, heheh... it’s nothing personal this time, it’ll just make me lots of money. So...” Royce leaned over his desk, supporting himself on his forearm as he peeked at Pal sideways in a cheeky manner, “deal, or no deal?”

There was a pause for thought. On one hand... the implications of losing the bet were horrifying. On the other hand... Pal could go home with enough money to take care of everything. His luck hadn’t been great today though... he could only let his innermost thoughts guide him to an answer.

“I’ll do it.”

A grim chuckle sounded as Royce stood from his desk once more. “Excellent...”

With a single press of a button hidden near one of Royce’s desk drawers, the center floor of the room gave way and arose. That carpet design wasn’t just for show -- it was an actual roulette wheel, hidden right in the floor! It contorted into all the necessary curves, with small metal bars cropping up to create the various slots needed. The only odd thing was a lack of green spaces, though it did fit the theme of the room that way.

Pal took another step back as the device’s emergence surprised him. He’d never seen anything like that put together so well. He couldn’t help but stop to appreciate the aesthetics of it all, with how the very theme of the room and its colors converged into housing the very game it was based off of.

With the press of another button, the wheel began to spin at a brisk pace, just like the ones on the casino floor when twisted by the croupier. This time however, it was all mechanical. “Let’s keep it simple... black or red. Fair chance for you either way.”

It was simple enough. Reducing the choices like that made it a 50/50 chance. Perfect. Still, Pal looked upon the wheel carefully. Even if it was impossible to tell which it would be... even if neither had an advantage, he got lost in it for a time. Those two colors, as they swirled within the wheel, reminded him of someone special. It was calming, to a degree.

Confident in his choice, Pal finally spoke up, “... Black. I will bet on black.” It had to work. It would work. He was sure of it.

Royce nodded, lifting one of his paws from behind the desk. In it was a white ball, just like the simple ones used on the casino floor. With a casual toss, the ball flew not toward the spinning wheel, but toward Pal, prompting him to catch it. “Go ahead and look it over. It’s clean. When you’re satisfied, make your move.”

It was light in Pal’s paws. Nothing inside it. Nothing on the outside, either. A perfectly smooth, round, hollow ball. He appreciated the given chance to make sure there was no funny business. Still... holding the moment in his own hands. Knowing that he was the one that would either make his own dreams come true, or pull the trigger on himself.

It had to be done, though.

Off it went, with a snap of the wrist. The ball bounced into the ever-spinning wheel. It was just slow enough that the ball would eventually stop in a slot without being jostled.

On and on it went. It seemed like forever for Pal as he watched. It was hard to discern where it might land. Feelings of dread began to creep up on him as the moment neared. When the sound of the ball wobbling into its resting place was heard, his heart almost skipped a beat.

“Sounds like it’s decided,” Royce observed aloud. With another press of the previous button, the wheel gradually came to a halt. Slower and slower it spun, until both parties could see the result clearly. Royce’s expression softened, and he gazed across the room at the Smeargle...

“Black, 24.”

It took a few moments for that to sink in. After all the hard luck, heart set on going home empty-handed, and fear of what would befall him, there was a part of Pal that had assumed his bad luck would just go all the way.

That was when he realized he hadn’t exhaled since the spin started. It came out as an exasperated sigh, leaving the Smeargle to slouch forward and pant to catch his breath. As a result, he did not immediately see the Slowking approach at his side, delivering a pat to his shoulder that was heavy enough to make him stumble!

“I should be furious, but you’ve got an iron pair on you to stand up for yourself like that. You deserve this payout,” Royce commended. With that, he lifted a pouch into Pal’s view. It was, as one would logically expect, four times as big as the one he gave up!

400,000 Poke, right into his paws. Just as advertised. He could hardly believe it. “Ah... I don’t know what to say. No strings attached?” Perhaps it wasn’t the most tactful thing to ask... but even with it in his hands, it was hard to trust.

“Don’t start getting naive now. There were strings attached the moment you walked in here. I’d intended a much different outcome...” Royce admitted, once more and for the last time stepping away from Pal and toward his desk. “I suppose luck was not on my side this time. You cut every string,” he paused, just to seat himself. “so take your spoils and enjoy yourself. I’ve already instructed the staff to allow you to leave freely as long as you’re exiting the office without me.”

That was it..? That was it! Everyone had heard horror stories about gambling, including Pal. He felt it, when he’d almost thought he would lose that bet. If he had... he would have been just another horror story. Perhaps gambling was not something he would try again, despite his success this time.

As Pal exited Royce’s office, everything was true to what he was told. While the staff shot him surprised glances, they let him pass all the way to, and out of the exit. Truth be told, it was a somewhat awkward march, knowing so many eyes were on him. Still, before he knew it, he was out in the bay area proper, with all of the money he could want. He’d really made it.

With his knapsack in tow, and his earnings tucked safely into it, he set out for Tao Village, proudly swaying his paint-tipped tail behind him with every step. Nothing would keep him away.

“Perhaps we can finally start living normally again...”

That thought lingered all the way home. It would take some time for him to get there on foot, but with all the rebuilding already going on, it was doubtful that anyone would even mind his absence. What use was an artist to a massive rebuilding effort, after all?

Several hours and many steps later, his arrival was greeted with the sounds of hammering and various chatter in the distance. The carpenters must have been hard at work on something already. Pal wasn’t looking for a building that was going to be properly repaired though, he was looking to a specific boarded-up building. One that was very well-known to at least one-third of the village.

At least, that was going to be his destination until he caught sight of a familiar Zoroark trudging away from that very building, out toward the many rows of destroyed, spared, and partially rebuilt huts which the villagers resided in.

“Palette!” Pal called out excitedly. He had such great news to share that even the idea of doing so brought a big smile to his face. Caring not for the exhaustion he’d built up on his long walk, he cast away his usual calm nature and ran straight for Palette. As she turned to acknowledge him, he leapt right for her in an eager hug.

Though surprised by the seemingly sudden emotional outburst from Pal, Palette was quite happy to wrap her larger, clawed arms around him. “Ah, Pal! I was hoping I’d see you!”

“And I you! I have such wonderful news, ma chérie! We will have a place to live on our own again!” Pal revealed with such enthusiasm. Most certainly, with the money he had on him at that very moment, he would buy them the most luxurious home aside from the Merchant HQ.

“Oh, I know! Devonshire is very generous, is he not?”

That... wasn’t quite the response Pal expected. Confused, he took a step back from the hug and boggled up at Palette. “What do you mean by that..?”

The Zoroark simply giggled briefly, pressing her claws together in front of herself with glee. “Didn’t he tell you personally? He’s arranged for a new home for us, to make up for burning mine prior! It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“...”

“... Uh... Pal?”

“..! Eheh, uhh...” Pal snapped out of what seemed to be a brief bout of lifelessly staring forward. From that point on, his smile appeared to be cracking somewhat, like he was forcing it to stay on. “That is... that is fantastic! We shall certainly live the good life together! I am terribly grateful to monsieur Devonshire...”

The sudden high-strung tone of Pal’s voice made Palette raise a brow. His reaction was making her a little nervous. “Uh... yeah, it’s really great, isn’t it? I’m going to take a look at the plot. If you’re not too tired, I’ll see you there!”

Down the path she went, completely unaware of the fortune the Smeargle had, or what he went through to get it. Would he tell her? Probably not anytime soon. His smile untwisted into the frown he desired to make, and his body slouched forward with some combination of mental and physical exhaustion. Having a lot of money was never the point, so such a luxury did little for his mood.

As numerous other Pokemon passed him by without a second glance, Pal stood pondering what he learned from all of this. What amazing life lesson was bestowed upon him by such an experience?

Maybe someday he’d figure that out.