Rigged Games

Summer was drawing to a close, and with it the local Summer fairgrounds. Still, for one last day of summer it would have one last hurrah. It was a photo opportunity Inque couldn’t miss, and so she’d pencilled in her schedule: Summer Festival. Date. Narcissus Jonquil. Wear the front-tie shirt with the polka dots.

Narcissus was one of many suitors she kept both on her arm and at arm’s length. Inque had a certain innocence to her stage personality to maintain, but even so, she knew that maintaining a string of maybe-friends maybe-lovers helped her publicity. She’d pick out dates that would fit in on the magazine covers she graced: rich, accomplished, confident… dull. Wealthy heirs and successful career people looked good for the cameras, and that was all the use Inque had for them.

Secretly, Inque wasn’t interested in being one half of a power couple. She had all the power she needed, and she wasn’t keen on sharing any of it. Her preferred toys were a little more malleable, a little more breakable. But that wasn’t part of her sweetheart act, so she had to stomach dealing with stronger fare, at least long enough for someone to snap a photo. She’d axe this one after today, just like she had every other actor-stockbroker-heiress-etcetera she’d pretended to give a chance to.

So far, Narcissus fit her bill. Tall, well-groomed, dressed more like he was about to board a yacht than go to a carnival, nary a hair out of place. He’d be photogenic, at least, should any paparazzi take notice of them – pretty to look at if not enthralling to listen to. He was an actor, or a socialite, or an investor, or something. His long, self-aggrandizing stories seemed to touch on every possible illustrious career man as wealthy as he could have, and Inque wasn’t listening enough to figure out which one it was. Murmur’s sake, he could talk, only briefly stopping his prattling when the two of them boarded or departed a creaking carnival ride. He continued even now, as they walked down a path flanked by strings of lights and striped carnival tents and paved with discarded fair food and tickets. Inque hid a yawn behind one dainty hand as he spoke, certain Narcissus was too wrapped up in his latest rambling story to notice.

Her date attended to the crowd around them as much as he attended to her, if not more. Inque noticed his attention drawn to others passing by holding plushes and toys won from the various carnival games at the fair. They were cheap prizes, but they were ones he didn’t have. If other people had them, he had to have them.

“You want one of those?” He asked Inque, pointing a thumb to a passing couple carrying an oversized plushie of a Loafki.

“You seem to,” Inque replied.

That was enough of an affirmative for him. With a little spring in his step, he pulled her over to the nearest game stand, faster than her short legs could keep up with. “Come on, I’ll win one for you! It’ll be just like those movies you’re in – except real!”

The stand he’d picked at random was lined with stuffed toys, hanging from the sides of the tent, ranging from small to ludicrously gargantuan. Out front, a sign joyously proclaimed: ‘Everyone’s a winner!’ though Inque couldn’t help but notice an asterisk following the exclamation mark, and text too small to read just below. Behind the front counter stood three pyramids of glass bottles, teetering deceptively.

The woman attending to the stand shared the tall, pronged horns that Narcissus bore, but besides that, Inque found little resemblance. While he was all bright, sparkling shallowness, she was grungy, dark, an air of world-weariness weighing on her shoulders. Where little golden hearts dangled off his ears, steel spikes pierced hers. The brightly-colored fair employee uniform looked ridiculously out of place hanging on the woman’s tall frame – likely she’d be more at home in a leather jacket. Her nametag read “Jackal.”

Jackal’s black-furred ears were pressed to her head by well-worn headphones, and Inque could hear the loud guitar and drums being blasted into the woman’s ears even above the jaunty carnival music and sound of the crowd surrounding them. Narcissus knocked impatiently on the counter to the stall to get her attention, the volume and pace of his hammering gradually rising enough to break through the tinny sound of percussion coming from Jackal’s headphones. The envy succubun pulled off her headphones and rose from her seat, laboriously, as if being expected to attend to customers was a burden too onerous for her to shoulder.

Giving a glance to both Inque and Narcissus, she popped her bubblegum with a loud crack before asking in a monotone voice, “You two wanna play?”

“Nah, I’m just here to chat with carnies.” Narcissus gave a snort at his own nasty joke before rifling through his pockets for carats. “Yes, I want to play. I want to win.”

Jackal exchanged Narcissus’ money for a grubby pile of well-used baseballs and some basic instructions: knock down a bottle to win a prize. Knock them all down and win the grand prize. Her duty done for now, she slumped against one of the poles supporting the tent.

Narcissus picked up one of the baseballs, tossing it in the air a few times, catching it with confidence. He turned back to Inque with a dazzling smile. “Are you watching?”

“I’m watching!” Inque sang back, saccharine-sweet and phony, just in case anyone else was watching her.

Tossing his ears behind his shoulders, Narcissus flexed his shoulders and fixed his gaze on the pyramid of bottles before him. An impressive wind-up, and then the pitch -

Whiff.

The ball flew harmlessly past its target, smacked against the back of the tent, and rolled back to the game attendant’s feet.

“Nice one.” Jackal said, dead pan, picking up the useless ball and tossing it back to Narcissus. He nearly fumbled the catch. He shot a scowl at Jackal before offering a grin to his date. His smile was all fangs and confidence, but she noticed a slight furrow to his brow that belied a hidden anxiousness. 

“Just getting warmed up!” He quipped to Inque in a sing-song voice. Another wind-up and -

Whiff. Whiff. Whiff. Whiff.

Each ball he threw sailed past the bottles, colliding with impotent thunks against the canvas back of the fairground tent. Each time he threw harder, swinging his arm like a propellor, winding up with his leg lifted and eyes narrowed like a professional pitcher, but his aim only got worse and worse with each toss. Sweat from nerves and exertion both stained the underarms of his cream polo and dripped from his mussed hair. Unconsciously, he gave small whines after each failed toss. He glanced nervously back at his date, trying to gauge just how disgusted with him she surely was.

There was little trace of the bubbly, chipper starlet that had greeted Narcissus that day, and some new being had replaced her. She watched him, head tilted, stroking one of her pitch-black tentacles like it was a slimy villain’s cat. From behind her round sunglasses, her eyes focused on him, really paying attention to him for the first time in hours. Rather than the cheery smile she plastered on before, her cupids-bow lips tilted up in a devious smirk. She wasn’t disgusted, she was amused.

Inque had watched all the carefully maintained poise Narcissus cultivated melt away over the course of five terrible pitches. His performance was like watching a three-legged impup stumbling around, all pathetic floppy eagerness and no dignity. Rather than being impressed with himself as he had been with his self-inflating stories, she now saw how badly he wanted to impress her. With his ego shattered, he was fragile. Breakable.

Jackal’s voice broke Inque’s thoughts. “Woooow,” she said, drawing out the word, crackling with vocal fry. “Didn’t want to win hard enough, huh?”

Inque gave a giggle at that comment, and the reaction that drew from Narcissus was just what she had hoped for. Before her eyes, an embarrassed flush creep up into her date’s face, humiliation staining his cheeks scarlet, pink showing through the white fur on his long ears. For a moment, he looked about to cry, wavering weakly on his feet like a half-chopped tree about to timber. But it was just a moment. Rage quickly took hold of him.

“This is rigged!” Narcissus shouted, voice cracking, his blush-tinged nose inches from the game attendant’s. He slammed his palms down on the counter. “Give me another go, and this time, fix whatever’s broken!”

“Fuck, man. What do you want me to do? Make you suck less?” Jackal rolled her eyes.

“Yeah!” Narcissus snapped back reflexively. A half-second later, enough of his synapses sparked to make him realize his mistake. “No! Just -” Before he could continue sputtering, Narcissus felt the light, oily touch of one of Inque’s tentacles looping around his arm. It was time to play a little game.

“Say, sugar, can I try?”

“Sure. Fine. Be my guest.” He gave a loud huff, half from frustration, half from sheer exhaustion. He stepped back from the counter to make room for Inque, cringing away like the wound to his ego was causing him physical pain.

Jackal grumbled a low ‘…don’t pay me enough for this…’ just quietly enough to avoid her customers overhearing. She gathered the balls Narcissus has scattered all around the tent and dumped them unceremoniously on the counter in front of Inque.

With faux uncertainy, Inque picked up one of the baseballs as though she hardly knew what it was and pulled an arm back for a weak toss. Then, seemingly thinking better of it, she passed the ball to one of her tentacles. The thick black limb coiled around the ball, engulfing it. It pulled back, then snapped forward like a whip. The clatter of the glass bottles falling against one another in a glassy heap heralded her victory. Maybe not everyone was a winner – but Inque always was.

The date carried on seemingly normally the rest of the evening; with carnival rides, overpriced fair food, the works – though Narcissus didn’t suggest any more games. His loss humbled him, his stories of his many accomplishments ceased, and he let Inque direct their activities, following along behind her. Their pair had become a threesome: Inque, Narcissus, and the person-sized impup plushie barely restrained by Narcissus’s arms. Inque insisted Narcissus carry it. She’d won it for him, after all.

As the sky shifted from blue to a gradient of orange and purple, Inque let the day end, guiding her date to the fair’s exit with a hand on his arm and tentacle at his back. Ordinally, she’d slip into her car, scratch out the name of her date from her memo pad, and forget the day had occurred. Now, though, she hung back, considering a most unusual action.

Not knowing enough about Inque or anything in general to notice her change in demeanor, Narcissus began to slink away, tail between his legs, hoping to forget the embarrassment of the day himself. After a few steps, though, he felt something grip his arm. Like an octopus ensnaring its prey, four tentacles wrapped around him and slowly pulled him back towards Inque.

“You know, sweets… I had a good time with you,” she said, gliding towards him, that same devious smirk from earlier curling her lips.

“You did?” Narcissus exclaimed, voice pitched an octave too high. He cleared his throat and quickly corrected with a forced smile, “I mean – of course you did! Why wouldn’t you have? You know I’m -”

One tentacle squirmed up from Narcissus’ side, under his chin, and pressed its tip to his mouth, shushing him. The others curled around his back and shoulders, squeezing down, pushing him to bend down a foot to match Inque’s height. He made a small, high-pitched noise, but that was all the protest he gave.

“You’re not very good at games, huh?” Inque tucked a finger under Narcissus’ chin. Her voice was different than before. Rather than the sweetness of sugar, it had the sweetness of ethylene glycol.

Now that he was at her level (at least in height), Inque could examine him closely. She could see on his face how the question confused him through his wide, clear eyes, tensed brows and the small frown half-hidden behind the tip of her tentacle. His tilted head recalled an impup again: stupid - but trainable. A low, quiet laugh sounded at the back of her throat.

“Well,” she said with a purr, “I am.”

She planted a single kiss upon his cheek with her black velvet lips before her tentacles slipped away from his shoulders, releasing him from their embrace. He straightened back up slowly; confusion still painted across his reddening face.

“I’ll call you, Narcissus,” Inque said, eyes half-lidded, regarding him cooly. Then, in a moment, her face changed, brightening up with a broad, sweet grin. She skipped off, giving him a breezy wave and a wink. “Toodles!”

Narcissus watched her go, baffled. Gingerly, he reached up to touch the black lipstick stain on his bright red cheek. He had no idea how, but maybe he hadn’t whiffed everything today - though only Inque knew the game they were playing now.