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Look Ma, One Hand (Yaksha/Sofia)
Joined : 2016-11-13
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|Subject Post 1Subject: Look Ma, One Hand (Yaksha/Sofia) Thu Jan 12, 2017 1:53 pm|| |
The man sitting at the high-stakes poker table looked like the sort of man who could've talked a man into buying the items he'd just had stolen from him, or could convince a man to sell his child into slavery. He was surrounded by men and women alike, hard-looking people who stared at their cards with deadset expressions of intent, as if by staring at them hard enough they could change the ink upon them. This man, however, sat on the table, his cards upside down, touching each one in turn, and gently spinning it by the corners, with just his index and forefinger.
"Hello I walk into empty. Hallways tell me not to hurry."
"Gibberish won't help you, guy. I know what's in your hand. You've got shit, and there's not a single thing you can do to make me back away from the table."
Yaksha's head twisted immediately, one finger stabbing down on the center of each card, his smile widening ever so slightly. There was something eager and hungry that flashed far back in his eyes, something that said he'd had this conversation before, and that he had already won it a dozen times in his head. He leaned over, throwing a decapitated stump of what had no doubt once been an arm onto the man's shoulder, and leaning close.
"I knew what cards a guy had once, too. Because I know a lot of things I shouldn't. Comes with the territory, you know. Psychic, occultist, warlock, cursed, sufficiently advanced technology, call it whatever you like. People get all sorts of touchy when they think people are cheating. So why don't you tell the table, 'guy'? What am I holding in my hand?"
The man looked mildly perturbed by Yaksha's hand, but with a single hand he gently removed it, even patting it a bit; Yaksha was impressed by that. A lot of people seemed to act as if touching his severed stump, acknowledging the damage to it, would somehow soil their own hands, and leave them next in line to be mangled. But this man looked, more than anything, amused by the story. He reached down, tapping them one after the other.
"No magic needed. I know that between those five cards you can't possibly have anything higher than three-of-a-kind. You got your cards from the middle, and I saw them shuffling that deck. I know the density of the face cards, so it's not hard to figure out who got how many."
Yaksha's hand flew to his face, his expression one of shock and delight then, as he shook his head, speaking in french before he could even stop himself. He waggled one finger under the man's nose, his expression downright wolfish now.
"N'est-ce pas! Counting cards? For shame, my man! Even I'd never stoop that low! This is a game of luck and guts, not skill and prowess. The spoils go to the bold and the wild, not the one who turns it into a game of numbers. Betting isn't about mitigating losses; whoever taught you that was a damned fool."
Now there was a clearly sour expression on the competition's face. He reached up slowly, pulling off his hat, and then staring Yaksha intently in the eyes. There wasn't fear there, or concern, or even pity. The only look on this man's face was complete certainty of purpose, as he stuck a hand out.
"Nice words. But you lost this one. I'm not foldin', you're not beatin' my hand. There's security, there's video cameras...anything you do to win, they can go back and give it a look. All you can do is hope for the gods to smile on you, and give you what you need for a mulligan."
Again, that pensive, winning grin from the man who was no man, extending his own remaining hand and shaking. As he did, he reached his stump over the cards, gently tapping each one, one at a time; with each time, there was a faint sound of each and every person present squirming in their seats. Yaksha then turned back towards the table, and then gently tilted his chin.
"I'll let you do the honors. Then no one can claim I pulled a fast one. Any order you like, however many you like."
"Like hell. There's half a dozen other-"
Yaksha's hand was now gently folded behind his head, as he leaned back in his chair, looking up at the roof. His expression was serene, as he once more gently inclined his chin.
"Go on. Nothing to lose. Or are you gonna fold too?"
"You're grating my nerves, guy. I told you, the only way you can beat me is if you cheat."
"Then it's hardly a bet, is it? You may as well be predicting a coin flip after you've seen it fall."
One card. A three. Spades. There was a faint grunt from the gentleman, before he turned over another. A three; hearts. Yaksha's expression gently turned more amused, as he gestured for the man to flip another. A queen. Diamonds. The man let out a short bark, turning over the other two rapidly, one with each hand...his voice turning into a strangled croak.
A queen. Hearts. A three. Clubs. A full house.
"No. No. She was supposed to have at least two queens. The chances of you having three threes and two queens? It's-"
"I'm not one for probabilities. Don't spoil the fun. Give me my chips, and head off."
The man turned away from the table, murmuring under his breath; as he did, Yaksha reached over to the coins, sliding them all together, and folded them onto his palm. As he did, there was a faint sprinkling of what looked almost like snow from the two queens. One could almost see a dagger, on one of them; the trademark signature of a jack.
"Victory goes to the bold. Not the clever. But it was a valiant effort."
Joined : 2016-10-24
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|Subject Post 2Subject: Re: Look Ma, One Hand (Yaksha/Sofia) Sun Jan 15, 2017 1:01 pm|| |
The Dark Quincy
Walking into the casino, the atmosphere was much more different than the last place she had been at. For the last few nights, Sofia had spent almost every last waking moments frequenting the better known nightclubs. It was completely unlike her. The nightclubs and their boisterous and uniquely different style of music, the alcohol, the drug; even being at a casino was very much unlike her. Then again, for quite some time, some changes within her had allowed her to peer into a different side of her that while not new, was simply kept hidden from her own conscious awareness.
Even her style of dress had been altered for the sake of that night. Instead, she looked as though she belonged to a rather wealthy firm, or simply a well off business woman that had lapsed in the alluring trance of a night at Vegas. A formal dark blue sports jacket seemed to be worn over a white dress shirt. A dark blue skirt seemed to reach about upper thigh length, purposely enhancing the view of her womanly figure, and offset only by black thigh highs and four inch red high heels that placed her just under 6’0” ft tall.
Her reasons for going into the casino were likely not the same as those playing there. She didn’t need money. The Montero family possessed a wealth that was vast, and that would last for quite a few decades.She couldn’t really enjoy the gambling games either since she had no idea how to play. From an early age, she was raised as both the musical prodigy that she was, and to be able to be self sufficient in combat, and become the best Quincy the family had provided to the cause. There was hardly any time to waste on things that she seemed to do now, let alone engage and learn of the gambling practices. However, after the first encounter with the odd Hollow, battling the Demon Shell, and after meeting and receiving the Eris Seal from Arianda, many things had changed. The check she placed on ideas and feelings that were once restrained reigned more freely. She wasn’t evil per say, but she had a lot more ease of doing things she wouldn’t have otherwise. There was still fun to be had at the casino however. Seeing people light up in excitement after winning a lot of money, then curse their own existences after losing it, and then some.
Nearing some of the tables, the men seem to enjoy her presence, perhaps something like luck. She didn’t stay particularly long at either however. Beyond not understanding the rules or how the game was played, she was just interested in the facial expressions as the universal look was more than enough to translate the feeling around her. There was a game where people tossed a ball into a spiraling construct. There were many more games where people played with cards. Maybe they wanted to match all the numbers, or have the highest number, or maybe even remain with the cards that had pictures of people.
”A martini with extra olives please.”
The bartender that had been walking around would quickly see to her order, bringing it just moments thereafter. It wasn’t a very complicated drink to make anyways. And so, taking one of the olives off, she would down a gulp from the drink altogether.
”I really hope this gets better, otherwise Light might just get me for the night.”
Light was one of the better nightclubs she had gone to the nights prior. Sofia was so used to the calm, the classy, and perfect music, to her, of ensembles and musical theaters that the casino, although completely different, was still quite mellow to her. It didn’t offer excitement though she knew that for someone that knew the games it would be heaven. The nightclub at least was crazy enough, and full of drugs and alcohol where she could be lost in its madness. Instead, she simply eyed the different tables from a distance, hoping something interesting caught her eyes. Spiritual pressure would do nothing really. Most people in the area were spiritually aware, and some were actually pretty noticeable in terms of power. Of course there was also the bouncers. None of them were stronger in spiritual potential than her, but if they all teamed up, it would be a nightmare. With no interest to misbehave just yet however, the Quincy seemed to be in the clear.
Joined : 2016-11-13
¥ Yen : 126669385
Posts : 238
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|Subject Post 3Subject: Re: Look Ma, One Hand (Yaksha/Sofia) Sun Jan 15, 2017 7:59 pm|| |
My word, who was this fine figure entering the area? Could it be, an old familiar face? Someone from quite a ways back? So far back, it was hard to remember exactly what had even transpired that day? Someone whose face made the stump of his arm itch horribly, leaving him wanting to leap out of his skin, so to speak? It was a particular quincy, and one with little patience for fools, at that. Yaksha inhaled slowly, rising from his spot by the table, and scooping up a handful of coins. What a fun little trick, swapping out money for this play money. What a simple, novel way to detach people from the tangible loss and earnings happening here.
Yaksha could list each and every trick they were pulling, here; he knew this place like the back of his hand at this point, and he knew damn well how to counter each and every one. He could've made a real fortune here if he had any real desire to; but money could do quite little, nearly nothing when it came to his own machinations. It was in the end simply a way of keeping score. Of reminding himself just what it felt like to pluck the strings. And right now, it was time to play a much longer, more difficult game.
He approached Sofia, nodding his head towards her, and placing a chip on the table. He exuded what could only be called a roguish charm, something that implied he was already thinking far ahead, and off on incredibly odd tangents. He watched her expression with an ever so faint smirk, as his severed stump of an arm was pressed tightly to his chest. He moved with confidence and ease, despite the missing appendage, picking up both the glass that came, and one more nearby; he plinked the filled one down next to her, and held the empty one for himself.
"You know, it is my opinion that brine is one of the best inventions of modern technology. Olives, pickles, jalapenos...give me very nearly anything pickled in brine, and I'll eat it. Hell, I'll drink brine."
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