Story Scenes and Oneshots

Welcome to the Playground

Not sure which this is: angst or fluff. Possibly a bit of both. I don't think there are any triggers in here, but I'll list any I think could be an issue anyway.

Mentions and consumption of drugs
Mentions and consumption of alcohol
Gambling
Slight manipulation

Alright, this one's not about Emeraldduo, as you might have gathered from the picture. I hope you enjoy anyway. This oneshot was inspired partly by what little I know of Las Nevadas and partly by the song "Playground" by Bae Miller.

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The sun beat down upon sand and rock that stretched out as far as a person could see. One man stood in the middle of that wasteland, tapping a cigarette lazily with one finger and gazing at the landscape with a weary expression. Shaggy black hair was mostly covered by a blue beanie that was shoved low over his head and which bore the letters LAFD sewn neatly into it. His dark face, with its enigmatic expression, was marked by a hideous scar which stretched from just under the left side of his mouth up into his forehead, leaving him blind in one eye.

He had not moved from that place for the past half hour, his mind working as rapidly as the single card he flipped absently with nimble fingers. Kicked out of one place after the other, used by one person then the next, he was just about empty inside. The one friend he'd ever had was gone, melted through his hands into lava, and now this wingless bird was ready to make his own way in the world. To make a mark no one would underestimate. That no one would forget or want to miss.

But what to do? That was the question he'd been turning over in his mind ever since he'd set foot in this miserable desert. He knew how to do quite a few things, but all of them needed people. He had to work out how to start from nothing, with no one. Or at least...with no one he had to really rely on. He'd had enough of being taken advantage of by those he trusted.

Quackity tapped his cigarette again, the ash falling into the exact same place as had all the rest of the burning narcotic. "A mark no one will forget." He murmured. "That no one will want to miss. What's the one thing this trash-heap of a country doesn't have yet?" A thought gleamed in his mind, bright as the golden tooth that flashed when he smiled. "It has no fun."

°°°°°°°°°

Las Nevadas. Casino Royale. Lights, entertainment, money, the chance to score something amazing. Quackity wanted to offer all this to whoever came upon his creation. And in return...well he ran the place, didn't he? All the cash, all the hopes and dreams, both shattered and whole, flowed to him. And he did what he pleased with them. He could afford to, after all, and at long last he was actually getting something out his endeavors, instead of being run out or cheated or backstabbed as usual.

The gambler lounged against one of the windows in his casino, looking out over Las Nevadas with a sparkle of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. Visitors had been coming in more and more since his enterprise had opened, and the money he was taking in...it would make any other man giddy, but Quackity knew better than to lose his head. After all, he had ambitions of his own to pursue.

His gaze lit upon a blond making his way towards the casino, with a brunette following close behind. A smirk quirked one corner of his mouth and he straightened his posture, one hand adjusting his collar and the other slipping a fresh cigarette into his mouth. He sauntered downstairs with an ease that belied how carefully he'd timed his entrance. "Hey, Tommy," he said, sliding one arm around the boy's shoulders and patting Tubbo's head with his other hand, "what brings you two to Las Nevadas?"

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It's bright in here."

Quackity chuckled. "Yeah, yeah it is. All for the show, Tommy, you should know that. People want to see things differently when they come to have fun. They want to see things prettier. Thus, the lights." He waved a hand at the ceiling, his mind analyzing his own every movement to ensure he was the perfect example of a showman. "Did you guys want anything to eat, or drink?"