The Only Game In Town [Adventure]

Due north was not the best direction. Joy felt that a map, or even a general idea of where he was going beyond "due north" would have been extremely useful.

The summer dampness was starting to get to Joy as he walked in a vague direction heading towards a vague land because of a vague prophecy. He had enjoyed the sense of purpose that the prophecy had given him for the first week. But after that short amount of time, he suddenly found that he was irritated at the slightest thing.

The heat, the insects, and the incessant voice in his head screaming at him to do more finally convinced Joy to walk into a small village and take a break. He intended to take this break and ask one of the locals about this so called "land of the free," but trouble was far ahead of Joy.

In the middle of this random village sat a man with the most tremendous moustache that Joy had ever seen. It was a beast that completely covered half of the man's face. It twirled upon itself creating a massive, pointed tuft of facial hair.

"You have arrived." The man smiled, his teeth barely visible beneath the massive moustache. "Sam told me you would be here, and I am here to collect on the bounty that the king has put on your head."

The ground twisted beneath his feet as the mustached man started walking towards Joy. Each step seemed to make the section of ground beneath him spin. Joy also noticed that there seemed to be little swirling gusts of air surrounding the man.

Joy thought that his gift was probably spinning of some variety. Maybe some of it was unconscious or it was an intimidation tactic, but the affect was quite ferocious looking.

Before the man could close to much distance between them Joy spread his arms and asked, "do you want to play a game?"

The other man immediately sprinted towards him. The ground created a series of rolling sections that helped accelerate him even faster as he tried to close the distance between them.

But even with this speed he couldn't beat the words being blasted into their minds.

"Kickball. Do either of you need the rules explained to you?" An imperious voice declared in both their minds.

Joy thought about it and decided that he did not want to know the rules. He knew how to play kickball; how hard could it be?

Joy looked intently at the other man and noticed he was thinking carefully having stopped before approaching Joy. It seemed that the king's men had been informed that Joy's games were "fair" and so they had been coached to listen to the rules when presented.

A big red ball had appeared in the other man's hands. He hefted the ball, testing its weight and texture. Then he brought his arms close to his chest, while bringing one leg higher into the air.

With one swift motion, the mustached man rolled the ball towards Joy at a high speed. The ball curved midair after he rolled the ball and gave the ball an unpredictable spin as it careened towards Joy.

With a fast run up, Joy approached the ball and brought his foot into position to kick it. But the erratic bouncing created by the other man's gift caused Joy to completely whiff the ball.

Joy's foot went directly into the air, and he fell onto his butt. The ball disappeared as soon as Joy missed and then reappeared in his hands.

He dusted himself off and positioned himself to face his opponent. The other man had not moved from his position. There was probably some rule in the game that forbid any contact beyond the ball itself. So, it was now just a game of skill. One ball and two men.

Joy pulled out his signature technique. He rolled the ball very slowly towards the mustachioed man. The other man looked quizzically at the ball, but Joy had given the ball the perfect amount of force to bring it to a gentle stop right in front of the other man.

The man's mustache waved in the wind as he sent the ball flying towards Joy with one swift kick. The balls had an incredible topspin, provided by the man's gift. The careened back and forth in the air in a beeline towards Joy's face.

If Joy hadn't moved, he most certainly would've been hit by the ball. Thankfully, Joy was capable of movement. He ducked beneath the sailing ball, and it slipped over his head quite easily.

The red ball reappeared in the other man's hands. And he primed himself to roll it at Joy.

The mustache on the man's face jolted as he saw Joy running towards him at a dead sprint. There wasn't too much distance between the two of them, so the moments that Joy had stolen to get closer to the other man had been enough.

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Joy was inches away from the man's beautiful mustache when the other man realized he would need to defend himself.

Years of ingrained reflexes told the mustached man that he needed to protect his face from an impending punch or kick. These years of practice worked against him because he had forgotten that he was in a game of Joy's making. The only harm allowed in the game was that caused by the ball.

But his reflexes brought his arms up in an easy guard. He still gripped the red ball tightly, but he was now in a defensive position, prepared to battle Joy as real fighters do.

However, this was not a regular fight against a regular fighter. A smile crept across Joy's face as he catapulted himself towards his opponent. He leapt into the air and brought one foot forwards into an elegant flying kick.

His foot connected with the big red ball that was now conveniently positioned in front of his opponent's ridiculous mustache.

The ball left the man's hands and collided with his face. A small explosion rocked the man, sending him flying away. A great "oomph" could be heard as the air was stolen from his lungs, and he was thrown into unconsciousness from Joy's "signature move."

Joy basked in his victory, feeling the waves of elation wash over him. There was great pride in winning a contest like this one. There was something pure about pitting himself against someone else and both bringing their full effort to destroy the other. There were no politics or hidden motives, just one person's strength being greater than the other's.

But this battle had not been just a contest of two wills. Instead, this was a mercenary out for his blood. Joy slowly inched his way towards the unconscious man.

Should I kill him? Joy thought as he looked down at the man's marvelous mustache. His opponent probably wouldn't bat an eye at Joy's death, but Joy found himself shivering at the thought of bringing this man's journey to an end.

Images of blood caking his elbows and a caved in skull flashed in his mind as he thought about the last time he had been in this situation.

Joy shivered and looked down at the unconscious man one last time. He could see his breath moving up and down and he tried to imagine the other man's life.

Beneath that ridiculous mustache had to be some sort of person, right? Who were they beyond the mercenary sent to get Joy out of the king's way?

Joy sank down on his haunches, getting closer to this inscrutable man. From a pocket in his travel sack, Joy pulled out a straight razor. Joy felt every self-respecting person should carry their grooming equipment close in hand.

With a quick swipe after a light lathering of shaving cream, Joy got to see beneath the mustache and finally see the man. The poor man had been hiding an unfortunate lip. Any imposing nature that Joy had seen in the man earlier was now gone, replaced by a slightly ugly man who needed to cover his top lip to hide that fact from the world.

A giggle escaped Joy's lips as he looked down at the man. In his mind a story was wriggling its way to life.

This man had been bullied his entire life for being on the poorer side of average looking. After the years of abuse from his peers he decided to take back a sense of power in his life by becoming a hired killer. The only issue was that he was still unattractive and unimposing. He just looked measly, so he still received abuse and insults from his peers. Finally, the man waited years to grow far enough out of puberty to grow a true mustache, and he was able to cover his shame. Now, Joy had vanquished his foe and taken his greatest shield away from him.

All this was still just a fiction that Joy had invented, but it really added some spice to the interaction. Joy cackled evilly to himself as he started walking away from the man.

He heard a groan coming from the ground as the other man started to wake himself up. Joy smiled and said, "nice lip!" before running away.

An undignified yelp came from the ground and a desperate cry came soon after, "give it back. Please?" But there was no stopping Joy, he released the mustache hairs into the wind as he sprinted through this random village he had been ambushed in.

The wind caressed his face, and the sun shone a little brighter. Maybe this was not the smartest choice. He could have easily brought the straight razor through the man's throat rather than through his beard hairs, but something about his choice felt right.

Joy knew he wouldn't have nightmares about shaving off this man's mustache and that was good enough for him.

Joy turned his body to the north and started jogging along. This village had been a major bust, instead of being able to ask anyone about this unknown land of the free he had been assaulted in broad daylight and no one interrupted it. It was truly disheartening to see such indifference in these small villages.

But that darkness couldn't catch Joy right now. He was on top of the world and was planning on basking in it.

He didn't get a nice drink or a hot plate of food from that village, but he had taken away something more important. Some would have called it hope, but Joy just called it reality. Life was good and life was bad, all a person could do is make good choices. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't.

Life is not a platitude. There is no magical saying that encompasses how a person should live their life because life is complicated. But Joy knew somewhere deep in his heart that no matter how complicated life seemed, it was always simple to be kind.

This emotional high carried Joy through to the next town, where similarly he found a woman who seemed very out of place. She had long sharp teeth that she chomped down on ferociously as she saw Joy approach.

"Ah… this is where Sam told me to find you… Joy." She took long pauses and seemed to be very conscious of where her tongue was in her mouth. It was taking some degree of effort to keep from biting her own tongue.

"I… am going to take you back to the… capitol… and they don't care whether it's dead or alive."

Joy laughed in her face. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. It was like Sam wasn't even trying to stop him. They had positioned these people through the towns for what reason? It was like they were giving him busy work.

But none of those idle thoughts mattered in the end. The woman had become noticeably angry and was charging him with her fangs bared.

Joy clapped once and said, "do you want to play a game?" There was no fanfare, there were no angelic choirs following him around. He simply did what he had to do. And for now, that was playing these games against these mercenaries.