a fourth miracle

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

[ A girl is sitting... mid air, legs crossed, as if seated amongst the stars. She's pretty devotedly shuffling a deck of cards, every which way she can. ]

I've decided I'm bored with chess. It has its elegance, certainly holds to the test of time, but I'm not above holding appreciation for newer games.

[ After all, she'll be playing it with more modern people. ]

You.

--Yes, you. Do I look like I'm speaking to anyone else?

Play a game with me, won't you? A simple game of drawing a card.

[ Mid air, she spins, holding the deck away, wrist downward, palm facing her. In a circle, around her, the cards float mid-air. The cards shuffle themselves in a circle around her-- no matter what you do, you can't see the face of the cards, just the backs. Illusion magic. ]

This is a game of luck. Draw a card jack or higher, and you win.

Draw lower, and you lose. The loss condition is that I ask a question and you answer.

[ By the way she talks about it, it feels more like a game of Russian roulette, deceptively safer-sounding. ]

And if you draw the joker, that's a loss upon loss. But the odds are against that, isn't it? I promise, magic aside, the odds are as fair as if they were laid out on a table.

Well? Will you play, and feed my boredom momentarily?

Comments

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan shrugs and steps over.]

Whatever, not like I'm doing anything else.

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

So go on, and pick.

[onehundredbeers]

Alright, jeez.

[Nathan doesn't put any thought into what he's doing and just grabs a card at random. It's the only way to do this. The ONLY WAY.]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

[ Seven of clubs. ]

Seems as though I get to ask a question.

[onehundredbeers]

Alright. Then, uh, ask away, I guess?

[He sticks his hands into his pockets, not particularly bothered by losing.]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

Single greatest joy in the world.

[punkblaze]

[Eithan watches, considering. He's really damn suspicious, but at the same time, he's pretty sure he'll be alright. His luck doesn't suck that much, after all. This could be interesting, right?]

... Huh. Sure, I'll play. Why not?

[enduringwinter.livejournal.com]

[eyes narrow at the set of rules]

And exactly what does a 'loss upon loss' entail?

[someone has no faith in his luck at all and he makes no attempt to take a card]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

Then draw.

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

Two questions. What did you think?

[ A perfectly innocent answer, oh yes. ]

[enduringwinter.livejournal.com]

[oh Bern... This is still a very suspicious look because really? That simple? He has a hard time believing it.

After another moment, he reaches out to take a card (unsure)]

[oliverplus]

[Oliver watches Bernkastel, curious but uncertain. the game looks harmless enough, but...there's something off-putting about the girl running it--and the way she's describing the game. he can't decide if he should be wary or if it's as innocent as the game itself seems]

[but when he speaks, his tone is casual. he'll give her the benefit of the doubt for now and reserve his wariness for an odd response]

Those rules are a bit weird, aren't they? I mean, penalty for losing; nothing for winning. And you skipped the bit about what happens if you get a joker. What's the penalty?

[punkblaze]

Right.

[He reaches out to take a card, though he hesitates for a moment. He actually changes his mind three times before taking a card closer to the bottom of the deck.]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

[ And what did you draw, my good sir? ]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

I never said there was nothing for winning-- if you'd like a prize, say so.

And the penalty for drawing the Joker is two questions.

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

[ And she waits to see what he drew. ]

[punkblaze]

[Six of spades, apparently! He frowns.]

Damn. Ah well. [Just a question, right? How bad can that be? He hands the card back to her, then puts his hand in his pockets.]

So. Question, right?

((OoC: Ah, sorry! I thought you were picking the cards, I didn't wanna assume!))

[collector]

Sounds fun. Bad odds, of course, but that hardly matters. [Confident and calm, he selects one of the cards: the eight of spades.]

[oliverplus]

...oh. [he relaxes at her answers. not that he has any idea of what sort of prize to ask for--nor really minds, honestly--but it seemed worth asking. his tone is light, joking] What's on offer?

Makes sense. [satisfied, he reaches out to draw a card, revealing the six of hearts when the mun realises she's supposed to pick] Dam---aarn... [oops, he's talking to a kid!]

[enduringwinter.livejournal.com]

[he frowns at his card before revealing the ten of diamonds. So close to a face card. So close]

A question, then.

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

Why do you return to the plane?

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

I'm older than I look. Take comfort in language doesn't bother me.

So why do you return to the plane?

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

Do you have something to gain, coming here?

[enduringwinter.livejournal.com]

[...]

To see a friend.

[and he'll just be returning your playing card now]

[mirakill.livejournal.com]

[ I was at first, then I realized I should've given the muns the choice--! My bad. ;w; ]

A question, yes.

What makes you come back here?