behind our tricks [solo]

Cold bricks against my back, arms crossed over my stomach, gaze flickering across the hearts and the diamonds between his fingers. Back and forth, flourish, flip, bring them back together. If they were orange and lively, I could convince myself he was holding a flame in his hand. But I know better than that.

"Thanks, kind sir."

Lighter in hand, I flick it on and off absently. The corner of my mouth twists into a faint grimace. The man's clothes hang loose around his body, hands covered in coal dust and eyes squinting because he's been in the mines for too long.

Thief.

I wait till the man leaves.

"That's a neat trick you got there." I tilt my head, and push myself off the wall towards him. "Do you always pick on the miners, or were you just in the mood today?"

He shrugs and lets out a breath, pseudo-smoke filling the air. I wonder if he's seen the real thing. If he can tell the difference between the smell of carefully-rolled drugs and burning coal. I wonder if he notices the difference between the white ashes on his hands and the black soot buried in the skin of those who live here.

"I mean, they're easier to impress I suppose, any trick will get 'em to cough up change,"

I let out a snort, shaking my head. So he's not greedy, he's lazy.

"So I suppose you could say I do. What's it to you?"

It's my turn to shrug, glancing down at the cigarette he's crushed into the grooves of the cobblestone street beneath us. "Just figured if you can do stuff like that, you might like more of a challenge."

I glance up and nod towards one of the Keepers guarding the square, down the at the end of our alleyway. "They'e got loads of money in their pockets, y'know. Don't mind giving it up for a good show, either."

He's interested, that much is easy to tall from the enthralled look written across his face in bold, black letters. I didn't mean it as a dare or anything like that, but apparently, that's how he's taking it.

"Sounds like a plan."

He turns, and my eyes widen in surprise. Does he know what he's doing? Sure, I like putting on a show for the Keepers, but at least I'm smart about it. He glances back, and I almost hope he's changed his mind, but my hopes would be dashed if I did.

"Mind telling me your name? Just so I know who to blame in case I end up getting shot."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Maybe he really is an idiot.

"It's Gwin." I flick the switch on the lighter at my side, on and off, on and off. Nervous habit. "What's yours, before you go shove a bullet in your own head?"