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"I'm exhausted," Wifies declares. He pushes his chair away from his desk, stretches his arms over his head. "It's been too long since we had a break, don't you think?"
Ken is leaning against Wifies' desk, as usual, staring out the window behind him. At Wifies' words he rolls his head up to meet his eyes.
"Don't you think?"
"Sure." Ken shrugs. She looks listless, slightly hollow—a little boring of late but barely recognizable as the Kenadian Wifies once studied through a computer screen. Their hair falls past their shoulders in limp curls and Wifies' colors complement them beautifully, the softer black making their two-tone fur seem almost pastel.
Wifies leans down to grasp their chin, studying their face in the evening light, and has an idea. "We should play a game. Something with stakes," he tells her. "Couldn't that be fun?"
Ken's eyes narrow minutely. "Like what?"
He holds them in place without speaking long enough to feel them tense, start to twitch against his grip. "A card game," he answers with a grin. "Have you ever played Spite and Malice? Or… some people call it Cat and Mouse. It's one of my favorites."
Ken pauses to think for a long second. Wifies drops their face and they lean against his thigh. He can't hold back his grin.
"I don't think I know it," they respond eventually. "I—sorry."
"That's fine." He pets their hair, soothing. "I can explain it. You'll like it, I'm sure."
"Right." Ken doesn't sound sure—she's almost completely incapable of lying; it's adorable.
"You will," Wifies promises. "Let me find my cards."
In no time at all, Wifies has cards spread out on the floor of the bedroom and the rules of the game explained. It really is simple—of course Ken knows how to play solitaire, and this game isn't much more than competing to get rid of cards by playing the same solitaire game as your opponent.
Ken blinks at her hand of five cards, then draws her gaze up to Wifies'. He gives her an indulgent smile, waiting for her to speak.
"You said stakes," they say. "What's the stake?"
He shrugs and considers the question. The appeal of stakes, being honest with himself, is the potential to get Ken to try—a win against Ken that's a little more stimulating.
"How about… questions?" He watches Ken tilt his head to one side, obviously intrigued. "One honest answer for each goal card played."
"Fine," Ken agrees.
Wifies holds a hand out to shake. "Gentleman's honor."
Ken accepts the handshake with narrowed eyes, then pauses while their hands are still clasped. "What if I win?"
"What if you win?" She obviously has a gambit. Wifies permits it.
Another second's hesitation, a shaky breath. Wifies keeps their hand in his grip; this should be fun.
"I want to leave the server—not for very long, okay, just, like, some fresh air. Ten minutes, whatever, I don't care. Anything." Ken's eyes are down, their ears angled back, tail flicking behind them. "Deal?"
Well. That won't happen. Still, Wifies enjoys their boldness. "Sure. If you're certain that's what you want?"
"I'm sure."
"Gentleman's honor, then." He completes their handshake. "Would you like to go first?"
Ken just nods. A moment later, he draws a queen from her hand and places it on one of her side stacks. Wifies hums approval of the move.
Wifies plays a wildcard king as an ace to the center. His next draw is another king—luck is on his side so far, it seems. It's too early to know, but he allows himself the thought that perhaps he won't even have to disappoint Ken to keep her on the server.
A handful of boring turns later, Wifies draws first blood: a red 4 off his personal draw pile.
He locks eyes with Ken. The game is young; he's not concerned about making anything count.
"Why would you want to leave the server?" He keeps his voice curious, genuine. As if he doesn't know.
As expected, Ken blinks in surprise. "I… just some fresh air," she answers stiffly. "A change of scenery, I guess. I dunno, I'm—I mean, the factory is… nice, but it all looks the same? I don't, I swear I'm not gonna bolt."
Wifies scoffs, then schools his expression into a smile. "I know you wouldn't. Don't be so nervous, Ken, I don't bite." He does his best to show off his teeth.
Ken looks down. "Right. Uh… is it still your turn?"
Wifies nods and lets the game continue.
Turns drag on, as Spite and Malice tends to. Ken is slowing building an entire suite in her side stacks.
Luck breaks again in Wifies' favor. He wonders if it's this world's favoritism—an interesting experiment, perhaps.
"What's your fascination with that clone? You know, your little pet."
Ken looks just as uncomfortable as Wifies predicted.
"The, uh, the one who likes berries?"
"Him, yes."
"He's… I guess I'm responsible for him," Ken manages. She looks genuinely thoughtful, as if the answer is coming to her just now. "Since I… kept him from being useful. I can't just abandon him."
Wifies hums. "Have you always been this soft?" From her entire public-facing self, Ken seems downright cruel. Even having kept her this long, her soft spot for the clones is a surprise.
"What? I'm not—that's just decency."
"Decent, then." Wifies pronounces the word like it's distasteful—Ken may not agree, but the trait is so useless it may as well be a vice. "Why?"
Ken stutters for a moment. "That matters to me?" She's not quite glaring, but it's close. "Look, one question. That was the deal."
Wifies shrugs and finishes his turn.
Almost right away, Ken plays a black eight from his hand and finally moves a goal card. "What's your issue with decency, then? Why do you—y'know, talk about the clones like that?"
Wifies gathers his thoughts. "It's inefficient. And stupid."
"Treating other people like people?" Ken visibly blanches. Wifies barely avoids laughing—ten months and change, and Ken is still so naive.
He just shrugs. "Why should it matter? If they want something, they should have taken it."
Ken shakes their head and moves a four to a side stack.
Now Wifies doesn't suppress a smile—a black ten from his hand plays on Ken's previous goal card, and he shifts the red jack from his goal pile to the center.
"We're not done." He watches Ken's shoulders draw upward, then slowly lower. "Why should it matter, then? Why do you care so much about the clones?"
Ken just stares at the game for a long second. "Just because it matters, okay? It—it counts for something."
"Counts for what, exactly? What do you gain?"
"I—it's just right. It's not selfish."
"Is selfishness such a problem, then? Don't you care about yourself?"
Ken pinches her lips. "One question, Wifies. Just one."
Wifies surveys his cards and once again very nearly laughs. Perhaps there really is server-level favoritism—a black king allows him to play a red three off his goal pile.
"Answer the question, then."
Ken takes a visibly difficult breath. "Selfishness is a problem when other people suffer."
"But your own suffering doesn't matter?" Wifies probes. He lets himself smile watching Ken's rigid morality struggle to hold itself up.
"Not… not if more people suffer otherwise," Ken decides. "There should be balance."
"Hm. How noble of you." He plays a card to a side stack and gestures at Ken to take their turn.
Later, Wifies places a red six on a center stack. With a deliberate look between the black seven on top of Ken's goal pile and the identical card in Wifies' hand, he ends his turn playing his seven to a side stack.
Ken stares, immediately aware of what he's done. Still, she takes the opportunity.
"What happened to Wato?" she asks, voice quiet and tentative. "She… uh, she hasn't been answering my messages."
Wifies raises an eyebrow. Ken is intelligent enough that she must know the server filters messages—it's a sophisticated piece of admin work, but a loose tie between player-side comm functions and the server's whitelist only means that nothing goes in or out except from approved collaborators.
Did Ken see Wato, then? Or… whatever strange thing Wato's become? Wifies' research into the phenomenon has lead mostly to dead ends, but he's pretty sure it's not just an eclectic fashion choice.
"How should I know?" Wifies replies, giving Ken his best puzzled smile. "I barely know him."
Ken narrows his eyes. Wifies waits for him—either he'll drop the topic or give up something interesting.
Ken drops her gaze to her cards with a sigh.
"What's your problem with creative?" Wifies asks. "Surely you don't lack practice."
"I used to be better," Ken admits, information she's provided already. "I… there was an incident. I don't have a tolerance for it anymore."
"An incident?"
Ken shakes her head as if to clear it. "Some fucked-up magic… thing." He winces and raises a hand to rub at the base of their skull. "I still don't really know how it worked."
"Huh, interesting."
Ken laughs dryly.
Wifies is down to the last few goal cards—those few lucky breaks have compounded in his favor, like this game usually works. It makes his life easier, at least; Ken won't expect to get to leave and he won't have to disabuse her of the notion.
"What was the 'magic thing,' then?"
Ken does a shuffling little shrug. "Ah… it was this mask thing. I—I took it from somebody else, I think, and it's all kind of a blur after that. I… yeah."
"A mask? What did it look like?"
"It looked like a mask?" Ken gives him a strange look. "Well, a broken mask, I guess. Why?"
Strange. He thinks of Wato's mask and makes a mental note to stay out of arm's reach when Wato next comes onworld for the commission currently in early stages. "Just curious, I suppose."
Ken hesitates over the goal card she's just placed—something stuck in her throat, maybe not ready with a question after so long luckless.
"Spit it out, then," Wifies prompts.
Ken makes eye contact and speaks quickly. "Do you even like me?"
Wifies can't help but laugh. "What kind of question is that? Of course I like you, Kenadian, you're twice as much fun as anyone else. And you're adorable."
Ken presses her ears back. "See? Do you like me, or am I a toy for you?"
Wifies laughs again, although half from confusion. "What kind of stupid question is that? Come on, I know you're better than that."
"Fine. Whatever." Ken's tail swishes and she plays another card.
The sky is full dark out—has been for a while now. Allowing himself an uncharacteristic flourish, Wifies places a black two from his hand and his final goal card into the center of the game.
Despite a probably-valiant effort, Ken's shoulders slump.
"Well played, Ken," Wifies offers, holding a hand out to shake.
Ken accepts it. After a moment, she adds, "You get one more question."
"Oh. I suppose I do." He smiles at Ken, indulgent and friendly after a pleasant evening together. "Did you really want to go offworld? Get some fresh air?"
Ken's ears prick forward. "I—yeah. I did—I do."
Wifies' smile broadens. "What a shame, then. At least we have each other's company, hm?" He leans over the game to wrap an arm around Ken and kiss her. The victory tastes sweet.