The inside of the casino was… a bit surreal. The carpet was plush and we sank into it as we stepped, the gentle springiness reminding me a bit of walking on healthy spring grass. Each game was on its own raised platform, with crimson carpeted stairs leading up a short way to areas railed off with well crafter banisters made of expensive rich looking woods and what looked like actual gold. The walls appeared to be an endless void with shining stars flecking them every so often, giving the impression of a clear night sky. But the oddest part of the whole thing was the ceiling.
Drifting above us aimlessly, were dark foreboding clouds. Within the roiling dark vapors strange shapes seemed to dance and spin. One moment I thought I saw a rabbit chasing a fox, then a set of black wings wrapping around a heart and swallowing it into the darkness. I stared entrances as the images roiled, until a sharp pain in my side made me wince and look over at Shawn, who was standing between me and an equally pained looking Ali. “Don’t look to long into the clouds. The spells on them are what dampen peoples luck, and they’re woven from the mists of chaos. Staring at them for too long can drive you crazy.”
I suspect the look on my face was about the sane as Ali’s at that moment, somewhere between ”what the fuck?” and “are you kidding me?” What kind of crazy asshole decorated their ceiling with pictures that drove you crazy? I was looking forward to my meeting with this Big Rumpus guy less and less. We followed Shawn up onto one of the platforms, and took a seat in a set of plush chairs with red velvet cushions and gold backs. I couldn’t help but marvel at the decorating. The furniture and designs looked like a combination of an antique shop from a new Amsterdam red light district and a strip club behind the Parthenon, but somehow it worked.
A pretty blonde waitress in an obscenely short toga and I heavily suspected nothing else sauntered up to take our drink orders. I might have suspected she was flirting when she leaned over the table so far to get mine, but when I noticed the body glitter on her admittedly ample cleavage I made sure to keep my eyes respectfully on her face. I got a pout for my trouble and genuinely wasn’t sure if she thought I was attractive or just wanted to see me turned into party decorations.
Ali didn’t bother to stop herself from ogling, though I think the waitress missed it staring at me. She looked up from the other girls ass as she turned the corner and winked at me playfully. After we both watched the waitress walk away (definitely nothing under that toga) we turned to face the table Shawn had plopped us down at. It turned out that he had decided for our first foray into highsider gambling we were going to be playing roulette.
Most of the other people at the table had ignored us sitting down completely in favor of the game but looked over in interest as soon as Shawn started setting out stacks of chips in front of each of us. Apparently he had decided to go ahead and grab our chips for us before showing up, maybe you could get them delivered with the cards. Upon inspecting the chips though, I got yet another big surprise. The chips were made or metal.
Copper for tens, silver for one hundred, gold for one thousand, and what I was pretty sure was platinum for ten thousand. There were even a few hundred thousand chips made of a shimmery blue metal I had never seen before. All in all there was a cool million in front of each of us, half of it in those blue shimmery chips and the rest in a combination of the other four metals. I glanced over at Shawn in surprise, apparently he had way more money than I had expected, even with the family’s resources, dropping three million bucks on a day trip would be absurd.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
The waitress came back with our drinks, two white Russians and some kind of shimmering gold drink that smelled like sugar cookies and marmalade. Shawn took the gold drink and took a deep sip, humming with pleasure at the apparently delicious taste. After a refreshed sigh he grinned at us “It’s a knockoff version of Bragi’s mead of poetry. Supposedly it improves creativity. For some reason it also makes everyone you talk to sound like a chipmunk.”
I raised an eyebrow at that last part “Wait, really?” I decided I might want to order that next, creativity aside, hearing everyone else sound like they were on helium when they thought they sounded normal would be hilarious. It made me wonder what kind of other stuff I could have ordered instead of this stupid white Russian. Call me a philistine if you want, but that drink is the only actual entertaining part of the The Big Lebowski.
Shawn snorted with laughter after hearing me speak “You sound like a nerd.” I suspected based on his incessant giggling that the mead he was drinking might be stronger than it smelled, Shawn had never struck me as the giggly type. I probably would have spent a few minutes saying movie lines that would have sounded funny in a chipmunk voice, but I found myself interrupted by the fact that there appeared to suddenly be a person sitting between Shawn and I that wasn’t there before.
My bookish friend yelped, I jumped and Ali started cussing like a sailor, but our new visitor just smiled blandly and nodded at Shawn and I and wiggled his eyebrows ridiculously at Ali. It probably would have been dickish instead of ridiculous if the new arrival didn’t look all of sixteen years old. The new kid was…strange, his eyes were heterochromic, one unnaturally bright almost toxic green and one a literal metallic gold. His black hair was long and shaggy and unkempt, but still managed to look like someones messy hair from a movie rather than an actual persons style.
He word what appeared to be a large oversized hoodie made of actual hammered gold over a bare chest covered with emerald chains (as in the actual links were carved stones) and hammered gold flip flop sandals clung unnaturally to the pads of his swinging feet, which judging by the distance to the ground, suggested his height to be at five foot six or so. His pants were baggy royal purple cargo shorts with black trim and an unusual amount of pockets and zippers, and he appeared to be slurping on a glowing blue drink in what looked like a coconut made of sapphire.
The whole vide was so strange and surreal that it took all of us a minute to close our respective jaws. Oddly, u8nlike the two of us, Shawn seemed to be growing unusually pale as he stared at our new guest. I opened my mouth to ask who the hell this was supposed to be but before I could Shawn hurriedly cur me off “You must be Big Rumpus! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you sir. I’ve heard such good things!” I slammed my mouth shut with a snap, grateful to my friend for sparing me whatever horrible fate would have befallen me if I had mocked an actual demigod.
Big Rumpus raised an eyebrow “That’s strange, I wasn’t aware people were spreading stories about me again. I’ll have to kill some more of the gossipers, they’ve obviously forgotten my last purge.” His eyes focused in on something unseeable out in the distance before they flashed with light and casually turned back to settle on…me. “Well, aren’t you an interesting little thing. Fortune warps around you and destiny shapes bricks into a path your feet have no choice but to tread.” He paused and cocked his head. “I should probably kill you, you would thank me for it later if you could. Yes, I think that shall be my good deed for the day. Stay still, this will only hurt a lot.” And without further ado, he pointed at my head, and his finger flickered with a green and gold flame.