“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Great plan,”

“Anyone with half a brain cell is going to know who you are.”

“The greatest plan. Ever. Of All Time.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t died yet.”

“My turn at the wheel, my time to fuck it up. Now to find a good way in.”

Avean was no stranger to creepy men in back alleys. Hell, he had even trounced a few of them in his admittedly short lifetime. Men who wanted to sell you things and then take your coin purse, your life, or in one odd scenario, your hair. This current person and possibly a future suspect in particular was no different. Hair braided down to the shoulders and skin that looked like the sun had taken it for a weekend affair. While this black-haired gentleman wasn’t on par with Nack the Clipper, it still didn’t seem wise to follow him to the back alley, it seemed that he had no choice on account of the arm over his neck and the surprisingly strong grip this man had on his shoulder.

“Listen, my good man, those people paid a hard sum to go to this tourney.”

“Actually, I hav-”

The man did not let Ave finish his statement. “ However, you seem like a man into the real stuff. One on one with the great ones!”

This wasn’t wrong. To meet Rick Saturn was a lifelong dream. One that he had to miss out on due to the multiple conflicts he had to handle or give up due to his royal responsibility. Even with this dream in mind, he knew the right thing to say to strangers offering dreams.

“Go on…”

At the sound of his relenting, the stranger’s smile seemed to glisten like the moon.

“Well my strong fellow, nothing is impossible and I am here to show you that. A private meeting with the Rick Saturn, one of the greatest physical entertainers in all the land! Though of course, nothing can be truly free.” The black-haired man rubbed his fingers together, the white of his fingernails contrasting his auburn skin.

“How much?”

“Five Bucks.”

A break of silence.

“Look man, just put some coins in my hand and we can move on.”

Avean didn’t know where this hustle/potential mugging was going but he could always take his money back if it ended up where he expected. He dropped some coins in the man’s hand.

“Gratzi. Now we can get this started.”

The man proceeded to walk down the alley, turning his head every so often to see if his ward was following. “So young man, what brings you here?”

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The look in the stranger’s eyes told Avean that he really didn’t recognize who he was.

“Avean. Avean Conners.”

“Oh, nice name.”

“And you?”

“Oh…” The man stopped and put his hand on his chin. “What would be a good name?”

This… this wasn’t happening right?

“Sir?”

With a snap, the stranger caught himself a name.

“Ah! Damian! Y’know?”

“Yeahhh. So ‘Damian’, how are you getting me a chance to meet Rick Saturn?”

“I work here! So I’ll just..”

As they came up on the back entranceway, Avean could see a few looks in the black haired man's direction. The back entranceway was labeled as an “alternative entrance”, which Avean understood as “where the help should go.” Men of different backgrounds, some scrawny and some not worked at getting the waste of the higher-ups out of sight and out of mind.

“Soloman, my good man-guy! How are you?”

The Soloman in question had the look of the toughest man on the back end of tour in the cold. 6’6 and wearing a suit that seemed like its tailor lost a fight with a paint factory. A bow tie and buttons held on by the strength of god kept his suit’s modesty. As this freak of a man looked down at Damian, he seemed to regard the shady man with a smile. However as he turned to face Avean, that smile suddenly disappeared.

“So. ‘Damian.’ You’re sure you’re good with this guy?”

“Avean’s cool with me, I’m cool with him.”

“Sure. Just make sure his father doesn’t show up.”

Avean made sure to keep the expression he had for royal company on for this man as he walked through the door. Though in all honesty, the wrinkle on his face and the slight cut in the man’s trousers probably gave him away.

“This, my dear friend, is where the magic is!”

The odor of sweaty backs and building materials seemed to permeate the air. Men and women were sleeping in piles on each other with a thin sheet on the ground separating them from the dirt while others handled the rustling of cattle, beasts and managing where the less valued acts of this celebration would go. Efficient chaos at its best. Magical.

“A physical kind of magic.”

“Yes indeed. Anyway, you’re not here for all that, let me get you to where you wanna go. Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance~”

With a tune in his throat, Damian guided his tourist through the backrooms and onto where he would find his client’s hero.