Red or Black
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...”
