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Cheers and applause echoed faintly, the sound fading into the sunset-painted city.
In an alley nestled between two large buildings, a modest wooden stage sat lined with red curtains. A crowd of a couple dozen adults sat on various boxes and crates, raptly watching the performance taking place on the stage.
Russet had been putting on magic shows on a monthly basis, all of them in secret despite his larger-than-life stage presence, and there was a reason his audience kept coming back. His smoky complexion, freckled cheeks, and gap-toothed grin lent him a puckish charm that was contrasted by the bawdy jokes he pulled between tricks and the skillful, suggestive way he handled his props. His acts were impressive, too, and almost always left a few members of the audience scratching their heads.
Most of all, though, he gave people something to laugh at. Something they could use, in times like these.
Amid another round of applause, he called out to the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you! You’ve been wonderful as always!
It means a lot that you keep coming back. Especially since there are so many better things you could be doing with your time. But you’re helping me out by being here: refining my craft, my passion ! It means the world to me!”
A chorus of “ awww ”s could be heard.
“Ahh, but enough of that sappy stuff. Who’s ready for–!”
“ HALT! ”
A new voice boomed from the mouth of the alley, and the audience collectively whirled around in shock.
A tall, imposing woman stood at the alley’s entrance, wearing leather-and-plate armor and carrying a sword on her hip. Her long scarlet hair was bound into a ponytail that hung at her back, trailing from the helmet that obscured her eyes.
“Captain Cerise! To what do I owe the honor .” Russet spoke brightly and his grin remained in place, but the showgoers noticed the sour note that crept into his voice on that last word.
“This show is in violation of His Majesty the King’s statute regarding public performances! By law, this space is to be evacuated and this stage disassembled!”
“Come now, Captain! I’m just trying to make an honest living here! Surely even the most ironclad of rules are worth bending?”
“The laws are in place for a reason . If any exceptions are made, that opens opportunities for the riffraff to step out of line whenever they please.” She flipped up her helmet’s visor to fix him with a burning glare. “And I happen to know that you’ve been putting on these unlawful displays for some time now.”
“And there it is! That’s all it’s really about, folks: control . But I’m flattered that you’re such a fan of my work!”
A gauntleted hand came to rest on the pommel of Cerise’s sword. “If you don’t heed my warning, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to arrest you myself.”
“That’s the difference between you and I, Miss Royal Guard Captain. You’re one of the King’s, and I’m a man of the people! So we’ll let them decide.”
“What do you fine folks say to a special encore performance, with our least favorite loyal royal enforcer as a surprise volunteer?!” Russet bellowed.
A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd, slowly growing in volume and density. A few people even cheered and whistled.
“There you have it, Captain. I suppose I have no choice but to keep this show going!”
“Then don’t say that you weren’t warned.” And with that, Cerise strode down the aisle, the nearest audience members leaning away in their seats.
She stepped onto the stage, her boot thunk ing hollowly against its wooden floor, and made a grab at Russet’s arm as he deftly dodged away with a grin.
Another grab, another dodge, as the two danced across the stage. Russet would occasionally flip and twirl his cape like a matador, causing some snickering from the audience.
“Enough of this!” Cerise snarled, returning her hand to the hilt of her sword and drawing it from its sheath–
“Wh-huh?!”
–only for a pool noodle to slide free, the foam “blade” wobbling around from the force.
Over the audience’s laughter, Russet remarked:
“Ooh, rookie mistake. You’ve gotta take care of that kinda thing before you go out.”
Frustrated, Cerise tossed the useless weapon aside and moved to punch Russet–
–who swept his top hat off his head and caught her fist with it.
“My, my! How uncouth of you, Captain!”
She looked in disbelief at the hat covering her hand, then back at a grinning Russet, who now had an identical hat on his head, and stepped forward to take another swing–
–only to be thwarted by the second hat.
“Come on, how did you not see that coming?”
Several seconds passed as Cerise tried and failed to remove her hands from the twin hats, the crowd’s laughter growing louder and louder.
Cerise gave a frustrated huff, her cheeks as red as her hair, as Russet adjusted a third hat atop his brown locks.
“Ugh, to hell with this! You may have bested me this time–” she tried to point dramatically, only succeeding in raising an impotent stump of a hand and making the audience’s laughter swell– “but I will return!”
“Bye, then!” Russet said, waving brightly. “Hope you enjoyed the show!”
Cerise gave another huff and stormed off toward stage right, disappearing behind the curtain–
–and reappearing from behind the curtain on the left. She stopped short, looking around in confusion.
“Welcome back!” said Russet, just as sunnily.
As the audience started howling again and Cerise continued to try to leave the stage, Russet sidled toward an item that had gone forgotten near the back of the stage: a small, red wooden cabinet. He silently swung its doors open and, looking toward the crowd, gestured broadly to the empty interior.
As her frustration reached a peak, Cerise took a step toward the audience to walk off the stage’s edge–
–and lurched to a stop, a loud CLUNK echoing behind her.
She turned to see a thick red rope trailing from the interior of that cabinet, the other end anchored to a loop in her armor.
A new round of applause sounded from the audience at this latest trick.
As Cerise fumbled with her covered hands to try and undo the rope, Russet sauntered over to her.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He reached over and tugged at the ribbons on the hats, drawing them taut and shrinking them to tight mitts that forced her hands into fists.
“Alright then! Now that our captive audience member is here, we can get on with the show! Could someone get the door?”
A lanky woman near the back of the crowd stood up and dragged a large pane of wood into place, blocking off the entrance to the alley.
“Unhand me at once , you… you charlatan!” Cerise cried.
“What are you talking about?” Russet said in mock confusion, gesturing to her mitts. “You’ve already been unhanded!”
More laughter, interspersed with a few groans.
“I-I won’t stand this humiliation!”
“Then by all means, have a seat!” Russet dragged his foot across the wood of the stage, and a thin wooden panel slid from underneath Cerise’s feet. She tumbled backward and landed roughly on her rear.
“Listen here, you crook, ” Cerise wheezed, getting unsteadily to her feet, “and listen well. If you don’t dispense with this nonsense right now, I will be forced to–”
She didn’t get to finish her threat before her voice tapered off into a coughing fit.
Russet rushed over and thumped her heavily on the back as she doubled over, her emerald eyes brimming with tears from the force of her coughing. A few black specks spilled from her mouth, fluttering to the floor.
With one final heaving cough , something bigger plopped onto the floor of the stage.
As the audience watched in horrified awe, the black lump began to shift and unfurl. A small black bird finally spread its wings and, with a disgruntled squawk, flapped off into the sunset.
Silence reigned for a moment as everyone in attendance watched the bird fly away…
“Damn, what does the king feed you guys?”
And it was promptly shattered by a burst of laughter and applause.
As the crowd began to calm again, Cerise inhaled for a retort, nearly puffing up in indignation–
“Caw!”
Stunned silence once again, as the crowd stared at the captain. Her mitted hands clapped over her mouth.
“...Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that.”
She opened her mouth again, more apprehensively this time–
“Caw. Caw!”
And a raspy squawk came out, a crow’s call instead of a human voice.
Laughter again, more uproarious, as Cerise stomped petulantly on the wooden floor and shrieked above the din.
“Caw! Caw caw! Caw CAW caw!”
Quietly, Russet pulled a checkered handkerchief out of a pocket. The flash of color drew a few eyes as he deftly knotted it in his hands, slunk toward Cerise from behind–
“Caw! Caw! CAW CAW CA -MMPH!”
And pulled the knot tight between her teeth, reducing her cries to muffled grunts.
“Well said, Captain. But I think it’s time we changed the subject, don’t you?
Or should I say,” he continued, ignoring her frustrated noises to move to the back of the stage and rummage around out of the audience’s sight, “changed the object? ”
Russet finally found the item he’d been poking around for and dragged it out to center stage. It was a mannequin, life-sized and clad in a tight, shoulderless black leotard. High-heeled shoes adorned its feet, and a rabbit-eared headband was strapped over the top of its head.
Over the chorus of ooh s that could be heard, Russet spoke up. “Anyone have an idea what we’re gonna use this for?”
A cacophony of overlapping shouts came from the crowd, but the word “swap!” or “switch!” could be picked out a few times.
Russet grinned conspiratorially. “You guys know me too well!”
He sidled over to the side of the stage, reached up to grab one of the red curtains, and yanked it down, letting it fall to the wooden floor with a muted fwoomph and revealing a series of scattered, half-assembled props. After bouncing its weight experimentally in his hands, he tossed the thick red cloth over the mannequin and let the velvety fabric pool around its wooden feet.
“But this is a big one,” he continued, walking across the stage and stepping in front of Cerise to grab the other curtain, “and I’ve never done the trick on this big of a scale. So I’m going to need you guys’ help.”
He yanked the second curtain down from its post, draped it over his “volunteer”, and stepped back from the wriggling lump standing on the stage.
“On the count of three,” he said, moving to the back of the stage and kneeling to grab the two bundles of cloth, “I’m going to pull these back at the same time. But it’s gotta be exact so that nothing is out of place. So you’ll have to count with me! One! ”
“Two! ” The whole crowd joined in this time, excitement climbing in their tones.
“ THREE! ”
Russet yanked on the curtains, and the crowd exploded with cheers.
On the left side of the stage, the mannequin was wearing Cerise’s clothing. Its heels were replaced by her leather boots, its ears by her knight’s helm (with a thick black band wrapped around its crown), and its leotard by her metal armor.
On the right…
An embarrassed yelp escaped from behind Cerise’s gag as she tried and failed to cover herself with her still-mitted hands, stumbling in the black high-heels she was now wearing.
Those black rabbit ears now sat atop Cerise’s crimson hair as it spilled over her shoulders, left bare by the black leotard she wore. Said leotard left almost nothing to the imagination; her creamy breasts nearly spilled over its chest, and her muscular legs were left fully exposed by its high-cut hips.
As the audience ooh ’d and wolf-whistled, Russet walked back over to the mannequin and began rooting through the pockets of its stolen clothes, pulling out a small sack of gold that jingled lightly as he bounced it in his hand.
“My performance fee,” he said, pocketing the gold and making a few crowd members snicker. “Thank you for your generosity.”
Cerise stomped a heeled foot and hurled another garbled insult through the gag, flinging a few flecks of spit with it.
Russet’s smile dropped in response, and the crowd fell silent with it.
Slowly turning to face her, he raised an arm up to his hat and flipped it off his head, pulling out a coil of red rope.
Then, his expression returned to an easygoing grin as he twirled on one heel and ambled back toward the mannequin.
“Now, folks,” Russet said, wrapping the rope around its shoulders and threading it through the gaps of its armor, “this next technique is an interesting one. An intricate and delicate ritual I learned in the Far East… although my instructor was a little more hands-on than this, for the first lesson.”
Chuckles from the crowd, as he cinched the final knot securing the puppet’s wrists in front of it.
“I studied well, though!” He bent down to secure the mannequin’s knees, leaving the ends of the rope trailing on the floor beside it. “And you’re about to see it all pay off here!”
The magician returned to the back of the stage with fistfuls of the curtain in his hands, flinging them wide to cover his two models again.
“You all know what to do! One! ”
“Two!”
“ THREE! ”
This time, Russet raised his arms to flick the curtains upward before whipping them back.
When the stage was revealed again, the mannequin was back in its stiff standing position, its arms at its sides.
Cerise, on the other hand, wasn’t even touching the floor.
Her arms were bound above her head, her wrists lashed to the beams above the stage by the same intricate knot that Russet had assembled around the mannequin’s wrists. Similar ropes were looped around her knees and tied off further apart, leaving her suspended with her legs spread and no way to cover herself.
A rousing round of cheers and applause could be heard as Cerise squirmed and strained to preserve any modesty she had left.
Russet, meanwhile, strolled on over to the mannequin again.
As the crowd quieted, he worked at a leather cord at the back of its armor until the breastplate dropped to the floor with a deafening clatter.
He began removing its clothes. Unclipping the helmet and setting it gently down, shucking off the pants to let them pool at its ankles, lifting its arms to remove the shirt, and finally removing the lacy white undergarments (with a bit of extra fanfare that made the crowd giggle and Cerise blush even more furiously).
Finally, there the mannequin stood, naked as the day it’d been brought onstage… although that lack of clothing carried a new meaning now.
Finally, he made his way to the very front of the stage. The audience was on the edge of their seats now; if Russet reached forward, he could pat the head of someone in the front row.
With a cheeky grin, he reached into one of his back pockets…
“Now, for my next trick…”
And pulled out a deck of cards.
“I’ll need someone to pick a card!”
Over the audience’s aww s and protests, he shouted, “Hey, this is still a magic show! But don’t worry, I think I can still keep you folks entertained!”
“You there!” he continued, leaning forward and fanning out the deck. “Pick a card!”
The nearest audience member– a freckled redhead– reached out to pluck one card, looking intently at it before returning it to the deck.
Russet shuffled the deck around with a few elaborate hand-motions, letting the cards blur between his hands, before bringing it back together with a final clap and plucking one out.
“Iiiis this your card?” he said, flipping the card around to show the three of clubs.
“Yes!”
Russet’s smile dropped instantly. “No it’s not.”
“…No, it’s not.”
“You wanna know how I know that?” he continued, walking over to Cerise.
Then, he reached over and plunged his hand into her cleavage.
Over her outraged cry, Russet barrelled on: “There’s a technique to every trick. And you don’t stay in this business for as long as I have without learning to spot liars!”
He rummaged around between Cerise’s breasts, shifting them around beneath her leotard and very nearly shaking them loose– the front row leaned forward just a little more, in hopes of catching a glimpse.
“That’s how I know,” he finished, pulling his hand out with a card pinched between two fingers, “that this was your card!”
The volunteer nodded bashfully as Russet flashed the queen of diamonds. The crowd erupted into applause and wolf-whistles once again.
“Now I hope you don’t mind,” Russet said, walking behind her again, “but I’ll be taking these back.”
He reached up to loosen the ribbons around her wrists and plucked both of his hats from her bound hands. With a flick of his wrists, they popped back into their wide-brimmed, cylindrical shape.
Then he plonked one of them onto Cerise’s head, shoving it down so that it covered her whole face. It swiveled frantically back and forth and emitted muffled, confused noises as Cerise tried to get her bearings.
Silently, he turned the hat in his hand toward the crowd to show off its emptiness.
With his free hand, he pulled another prop out of his pocket: a bright red ball, with two leather straps affixed to it on either side. A fresh wave of sniggers rippled through the crowd as they realized what they were looking at.
He dropped it into the hat and rummaged around, prompting a fresh round of embarrassed squeaks and renewed struggles from his blinded “volunteer”, and pulled something else out: a red-and-white checkered handkerchief, completely soaked through. A few drops of clear liquid dripped into the hat.
Pulling a disgusted face, he flung out his hand to toss it across the stage. Instead of the wet cloth, a spray of red and white confetti fluttered to the wooden floor.
Finally, he leaned over to swipe the other hat off Cerise’s head.
As she cleared her vision with a few disoriented blinks, the audience clapped and whistled anew. The knotted cloth that had been muffling Cerise had been replaced with a shiny red ball, secured behind her teeth by a pair of leather straps encircling her head.
“Alright,” Russet said, tossing the hats aside, “I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough. Time for one final trick!”
He moved to the back of the stage one more time, passing the naked mannequin and the barely-clothed Cerise. He crouched down, his fingers brushing the velvety curtains lying on the floor.
“One!” The audience didn’t even wait for him to start counting before he picked up the curtains, testing their weight in his hands.
“ Two! ” Cerise’s eyes grew wide and panicked, and she thrashed frantically in her bonds. The mannequin stood placidly on the other side of the stage, resigned to its role.
“ THREE! ”
The singing of crickets and the barking of dogs echoed throughout the dusk-blanketed city.
In an alley nestled between two large buildings, an assortment of wooden planks leaned against the walls or lay strewn on the ground among busted props and rumpled playing cards.
Two figures, their shapes obscured by the gloom, silently busied themselves stacking planks at the far end of the alley and tucking props into their pockets or bags.
The smaller figure spoke, light and airy despite the subdued atmosphere.
“So. How was your first taste of fame?”
A long pause passed, silent save for the scraping of paper as a few loose cards were scooped up.
“It’s not what I expected.” The taller figure’s voice was deeper and huskier, but an underlying fondness could be clearly heard. “But things seldom are when you’re involved.”
“‘Expect the unexpected’ isn’t a common motto for nothin’. But you could teach me a thing or two about that, huh? I’d never have guessed that was your first time on stage!”
“I’ve had some practice schooling my expressions to show certain moods, and pitching my voice to match. It’s useful for talking to people, getting them to open up during questionings.”
“Yeah? And how many crows have you pressed for details, in your time as a guardsman?”
“…You’re still upset that I kept that to myself.”
“I put all my time into perfecting my tricks, making sure I’ve got them down pat, and it turns out you’ve been holding out on me!”
“Volume, Russet.”
“…Sorry. I’m not really mad. Just not used to being surprised like that.”
“Well, you’re not the only one with a trick or two up their sleeve.”
“Heh. Guess not.”
Another long pause.
“What is it like? Being… on the run. Evading the law like you do.”
“Oh- ho? Is the big bad captainess looking to walk the vagabond’s path, to lead her very own life of crime?”
“Nothing so extreme, not yet. I’m just looking for some advice when it comes to avoiding prying eyes. I’ll certainly need it, if I’m going to keep associating with you.”
“‘Associating’, eh? It’s that much of a chore for you?”
“That’s not what I meant! I promise you, I–”
“Relax, I get it. Working with a crook like me is dangerous, let alone dating one. You could lose your job, and we could both get arrested. I know that much.”
“…I do wish you wouldn’t talk down on yourself so much. You’re much more capable than you come off as.”
“Humility isn’t a crime, my dear, and I wouldn't get caught if it was! It lets you slip a lot under people’s noses. Besides, I know how to shine when I need to!”
“That’s a fair point, I suppose.”
“Not as fair as you are, darlin’~ ”
“Hmph. Flatterer.”
“You say that like it’s an insult. Like you weren’t loudly appreciating me and my silver tongue last night.”
“You– Have you no shame?!”
“ Shame, cherry, is for those with something to lose. And you and I have already lost plenty in each other’s company.”
“While I appreciate your forwardness, this is a very inopportune moment to get frisky. We’re operating on something of a time limit.”
“Fine, fine.”
A lull in the conversation followed, and the shuffling of cloth could be heard alongside the jangle of metal as the last of the discarded props were dropped into a large cloth sack.
“Alright, that’s the last of it! I’ll sort through the wreckage later.”
“In that case, I should be going. I get away with a lot as the guard captain, but people will start asking questions if I’m out too late.”
“Ooh la la! The straight-laced soldier abusing her position of power to sneak in a few extra minutes of alone time with her secret lover? I’m a bad influence on you!”
“Scandalous, I know. My reputation would be ruined if anyone found out. I’m practically a hardened criminal already.”
“Baby steps, love, baby steps! We’ll make a scofflaw out of you yet!”
A hearty giggle, harmonizing with a subdued chuckle.
“But seriously, be careful. On the job and off. I’d better not see the news and find out that you’ve been gored by a boar or stabbed by a bandit.”
“You should mind yourself as well. I don’t want to hear any reports of a man matching your description being beaten black and blue in an alleyway.”
“Of course, of course! You know how good I am at disappearing. ”
“And you know perfectly well that I can handle myself in a fight.”
“Well it’s only natural to worry! We have dangerous jobs, you and I!”
“Speaking of worrying… is there any risk of your audience catching on to the idea that your ‘volunteer’ might not hate you as much as she claims to?”
“I noticed a few of the older folks looking at me like they might have known. But my shows have been going on for a while, and no one’s tattled yet. I think we can trust them.”
“I hope so. For both our sakes.”
…
“Okay, I should really be going now. I’ll almost certainly have some explaining to do when I get back.”
“Okay, okay! Just one more thing…”
A quick shuffling, then the distinct sssssmack of a hastily stolen kiss.
“Thanks for joining me today. I’m glad the performance went off without a hitch, and even more glad you enjoyed yourself.”
In the stunned silence that followed, the rapid scurrying of footsteps could be heard leaving the alleyway.
“Until next we meet! You’ll know the message when you see it!”
The silence lingered for a while longer.
Then a sigh, equal parts exasperated and wistful, accompanied the creaking of leather and the clanking of armor as the two departed into the night, each waiting for their next chance to see the other again.