Fifty-Second, A story for the Giraffe Call

For rix_Scaedu‘s prompt

Fae Apoc has a landing page here.

The streets were less wild than it seemed like they ought to be.

Marietta and Dominic slipped through the crowds, as noticed as they felt like being, as always. There were fae on the TV, returned gods and calling themselves exactly that. It seemed like cities ought to be falling into the sea, like Atlantis, or going up in flames, like Pompeii. It shouldn’t feel like an ordinary Saturday night.

“…bunch of nutjobs. Bunch of crazies, that’s all.” The girl in too little too-bright clothing had too-loud opinions, and her companions seemed willing to agree to anything she said.
“Gods. Who do they think they are?”

Marietta and shared a look that was half disgust, half interest. She might be fun, if they washed the makeup off. If only she could be coaxed to shut up.

“Ugh, my mother’s calling again. A-GAIN.”

Too much trouble, and besides, they were on a mission tonight. O had sent them out in the streets, looking for something (or someone) he called Mandrake Mauve.

“What does Lute know, anyway?” The name caught their attention – not the too-bright girl but one of her friends, muttering to his bored-looking buddy. “Mandrakes. Just roots, after all. Might as well bring home a parsnip.”

If Lute was sending his people out, and O had sent them out, chances were Catnip had sent out her people, too. And the only clue they had was the fifty-second card.

“We’d better be getting on.” Dom did something complicated with the straps of his bondage pants. “The first Fifty-One await.”

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