!YvCruenWk2 2009/03/28 (Sat) 08:07 No. 16824 ▼ File 123822763872.jpg - (150.98KB, 673x800 , 2deab45e647303233f8e0aa598bc6f0b.jpg)
First, no one saw that. Ok? Good.
I am unbelievably tired and I can't see how much time I'll have to write this weekend. Thus, this update is provided as-is, rather than continuing to a more comprehensible choice-point.
Ok? Good.
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You open the door and are met with smoke, darkness, noise, and the gaze of those sitting around the table. Your eyes adjust quickly, and you take the seat offered you.
“Ten thousand buy-in, kid. Two hundred ante. No limit.” an older woman in the red dress next to you says, while a sharp-looking, silver-haired woman across the table efficiently shuffles in a display of highly competent dexterity.
You nod, placing the paper notes from your hand on the table. Another, smaller hand removes them, replacing them a moment later with stacks of blue and red chips of some cheap material. Glancing back, you can just see her long red hair, over something like a business uniform, before the woman ducks through a doorway into another darkened room.
Turning again to the table, you can make out five faces below the wan lamplight. You are unsurprised to see that, apart from the dealer across from you and the older woman to your left, the other three are all children. Further to your left, by the dealer, is a blonde girl wearing a straw hat (bad manners to wear a hat indoors, you remember your grandmother telling you that), dressed in blue and white. The two to the right wear similar white-cloth caps and frilled dresses stolen and enlarged from antique porcelain dolls. By your side, another blonde (though shorter-haired), red-and-white-dressed. Toward the dealer, one with hair blending into something like a darker silver, and dressed in white-and-red, red ribbons over rounding white cloth.
The one in white makes some expression you still can't see well through the dark, as your eyes continue to adjust. “You're just inviting people in off the street, now?”
Across from her, the woman in red shrugs. “It's not like we're using your mansion. What's the problem?”
To your other side, little blonde-in-red says, “It's more fun with more people, isn't it, sister?” They do look like sisters, this one the younger. Maybe a couple years difference. There's a taste in the air, sharp and electric.
Big sister turns to the dealer, who just closes her eyes and places down the deck, murmuring something you don't catch. Looking from the dealer around the table, her eyes settle on you. “Fine, then.”
“Oh, good.” Little sister giggles and turns to you. “Here, you can have this.” A large rock candy is pressed into your palm, shaped like a single long, red crystal. You politely accept it, tasting one end while the girl in the straw hat—the only one you've yet to hear speak—cuts the deck, and the cards and chips begin to move. It tastes like cherries. Chips forward, cards thrown from the dealer down to lay in front of you. One, two, three, four... five.
Ace of spades, a good sign. You carefully fan the cards. Ten of hearts, three of spades, and a pair of red deuces. You could do worse.
When you look around the table, you see the big sister tapping the table, announcing, “Pass.”
The dealer (who, you notice, did not deal herself a hand) speaks gently, “I believe that's 'check,' milady.” Her response is a shrug.
Little sister bounces in her seat, chanting, “Check, check, check!”
You push forward one of the smaller chips. “Raise.”
“Someone's gotta bring things up, it's just boring otherwise, right? Call.” To your left, the woman in red sees your bet, and it passes around the table.
Draw phase. (Were you playing five card draw? Of course you were playing five card draw.) Three cards to big sister, one to little sister (still looking excited in her seat—does she know you're not supposed to give away your hand?), three for you. Keeping the pair, you conceal your elation at the additions. Then, three new cards to each of the two to your left. The one beneath the straw hat still hasn't said anything. Second round of bets. Check, check, raise, re-raise, fold. Despite revealing two pair, straw hat leaves the round early. Whether she's crazy or she knew she'd lose, there's no way to tell. Another round of raises, starting with big sister—was her last check a lure? Finally comes the showdown, and little sister throws down her cards before anyone can say anything.
“Aha!” That's the king, ten, nine, and eight of diamonds... and the nine of hearts. So close. “What do I win?”
A crooked smile from big sister. The dealer spreads out the cards and carefully explains, using that same gentle voice. It takes a few moments for little sister to understand she had a pair, not a flush. Her response is dangerously close to a pout.
“Very well.” Big sister's hand—a pair of queens.
“Heh.” The woman in red puts down a pair of kings. The response is... skepticism. There is a moment of confusion, and she explains, “Kings are over queens.”
“What? That's stupid.”
“Don't complain to me about it.”
“Sakuya, is this true?”
“Ah... yes, milady. That is the rule of the game, at least for the version that we agreed to play.” Big sister hmphs.
They turn as one to look at you. You reluctantly reveal your hand. A pair of deuces, followed by your draw... a third deuce and a pair of jacks. Full house. There's a groan from your left, and you smile, a little sheepishly. But that's just the way the game went, right? It's not as if you're crashing their party. You recover as the dealer—Sakuya, it seems—pushes your winnings to you.
Second hand. King-high straight to big sister. You break off another piece of crystallized candy to suck as little sister regains her enthusiasm for no apparent reason. Third hand. Two pair, same winner, and she almost glows with triumph. Fourth hand. Two pair, to little sister. Fifth hand...
“Hey, are you sure your maid is dealing right?” The woman puts away a small mirror as she glances from big sister to dealer.
From the former, “What are you trying to say? Sakuya is performing perfectly.” Annoyance, a ticking of a clock above your head.
“Oho, but just what kind of play is she performing?” A tug at your right hand. You look down and to the side, into little sister's smiling face. Another tug.
Aghast, from the silver-haired (maid?) dealer, “You can't seriously be suggesting that—”
You let yourself be removed from your chair, following little sister as she goes toward the door. “Want some more?”
Some more what? Oh, the candy is gone.
From behind you, “Or maybe it was just our fate to—”
There's an explosion, a rushing of air, and your back chars and disintegrates, disappearing in an instant. There's no pain. Just a feeling of emptiness—of not-being. Your self returns to you, or you return to yourself, to find yourself standing in front of a bathroom. You know it's a bathroom because there's a sign showing little male and female figures, a slash between them, and a third below. A red man, and a blue woman, and a blue figure with no legs. Shouldn't that be a wheelchair?
The little sister appears by your side again, and returns your look sadly, looking between you and the door. “Oh,” she says, holding her cap in her hand. “This is the wrong story. But maybe we can play again, some other time?” You smile and ruffle her hair. She giggles and skips away.
You push open the door.
