We got no class, no taste, no shirt, and shit faced

[so_saturnalian]

Who: Jan and open to anybody that either got the address of the party or got it from someone else
Where: A mediocre hotel next to a Jezebel's. Classy as hell, man. MAKE UP THE INTERIOR OF THE PLACE OR SOMETHING IDEFK

Comments

POKER

[so_saturnalian]

[The poker tables are one of the liveliest areas, swarmed by various semi-drunken gamblers perfectly content with watching their money drain away. The card sharks here are pros at making a killing this way, seedy as hell and just as cutthroat - but if you pay attention and know what to look for, a couple of them probably aren't playing fair.]

HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID CARLEY GET HERE?!

[hittheroadjack]

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the best idea. Actually, it was a pretty terrible idea. This place made her skin crawl. This was more one of the places she'd be going for a scoop to blow a case wide open or something. But this? This wasn't her kind of leisure.

Of course, this hadn't crossed her mind till she was in on this poker game. Poker. Carley could do poker-or at least she had enough good luck with it to stay in long enough to when people start talking. How she did with poker on her second glass of whatever she'd just been drinking was a different matter all together.

[ooc: trying that again...]

JAN'S EVIL INFLUENCE, OBVIOUSLY.

[so_saturnalian]

[So he wasn't exactly...too sober at this point in time, who cares, he wants to play some cards. Which is what he's doing. And...sort of failing at, actually, but he's kept his temper surprisingly in-check for the party. Maybe it's the mollifying effect of the booze, maybe he's just in a damn good mood - it all comes out to the same conclusion.]

Ha! Gotta tell you guys, I'm better at wasted blackjack than wasted poker. All you gotta do is fuckin' count, and hell, other people do most of it for you.

[He's more or less talking to someone in particular, but in the end it's broadcast to the entire table because he's loud and has no volume control. Sitting across from Carley, he grins and points at her.]

You any good at cards? Can't lose much more, and I'm looking to win some hands.

WELL, YES.

[hittheroadjack]

She looked up, and blinked. She was being challenged to a game of cards! She could do this!

"I can be pretty good!" she said. Maybe she wasn't the best at duel monsters, but surely she could be the best at poker! Maybe if Jack ever came here he'd be impressed with her card playing! Maybe Carley and Jack could be an amazing poker playing duo. And then they could win lots of money and get married...

Or maybe the alcohol was making her dream big.

Can't read his poker face~

[doubleoohbaby]

[Bond's kept up his moron act far too well, only dressed in all too casual jeans, t-shirt and cardigan while stumbling and fumbling over everything. It's entertaining him far too much to be someone else for the night, especially when he can use his little characterisation to his advantage.

So he's at the poker table, rubbing shoulders with the pros and the card sharks and the drunkards, acting like a total loser while still somehow managing to win far too many hands.

Cue an awkward laugh as he rakes in yet another pile of chips.]

Terribly sorry, everyone. What a stroke of luck. This poker thing is awfully fun once you get the hang of the rules...

[so_saturnalian]

[Jan's been keeping an eye on Bond for a little while now - it was some vague notice at first that's slowly grown into eerie staring careful watching. Eventually, tipsier than he should probably be to go fuck around with James Bond, he does a theatrical couple flips from a sitting position and manages to land in a good area - not on someone else - though he sways on his feet for a second. Attention whore.

Then he just. Knocks someone else out of the way to take a seat beside Bond, smirking.]

Hey man, you're pretty fuckin' good ain't you? Mind if I get in on the game?

[Which was a useless question anyway, because he's already getting cards.]

[doubleoohbaby]

[There's a slight twitch from James as Jan physically takes the seat next to him, but then he's back to the goofy smiles and over polite antics.]

Oh, it's just beginners luck, I expect. But please, be my guest, you seem so good at everything else. [And yet said without a hint of irony. Damn, Bond should have taken up acting for a living instead.]

[so_saturnalian]

[Jan's too distracted - and maybe a little drunk, who knows - to notice the twitch. Not to mention the ego-stroking is putting him further off his guard.]

Yeah, I'm kinda just fucking awesome like that. Can't help it.

[Said without even the slightest hesitation. That ego, it is enormous.]

Let's see how that beginner's luck matches up with skill, huh? I been fleecing jackoffs out of their cash for ages. Y'know, not that I consider anybody at this table too huge of a jackoff.

[Yeah because some of his mob buddies friends are at this table and Jan's vaguely sober enough not to want to piss them off for later.]

[doubleoohbaby]

Oh, of course. I'm sure I won't be anything against your skill and talent. [He assures, flicking up the corner of his cards that lay face down on the table, a hand covering them well as he glances down to see.]

I have absolutely no idea why I even look. Means absolutely nothing to me anyway.

[Cue a smile plastered on that doesn't seem to waver, and yet that calculating mind of his is already working out probabilities of those two cards on the table, while keeping his attention on the others around him as bets are made. He intends to burn each face to memory because, oh yes, he'd love to bring down some of their organisations.]

lmfao I have no idea how to play poker /assumes

[so_saturnalian]

Hey, we can dream. [He does the same, inwardly groaning at what he sees. It's a shit hand, but Jan Valentine's never been one to fold. Obviously, the good idea here is to grin and act like a confident ass. That'll be difficult.]

Done well enough so far. Must be doing something right, right?

[Jan adds in his own bet, oblivious to the fact that he's sort of helping bring down a good chunk of the higher-ups in crime that he knows. Hell, he'd probably clap Bond on the back if he was in the know - more room for him to advance, right?]

it's okay bb. i know enough. plus handwaving makes the world go around xDD

[doubleoohbaby]

Must be.

[One by one, the five cards get laid out in the middle, bets made as each card is produced and slowly the numbers thin out as others fold. By the time all five are laid out in front of them and final bets are made, there's only a few of them left to present their hands.

When Bond places his two cards face up on the table, he's got a shy smile on his lips that causes a groan of annoyance from a few of the mobsters, who don't even bother to show their hands and fold immediately. It's a good hand, but beatable. It's all down to Jan's luck now...]

[so_saturnalian]

[...Which sucks. Jan grimaces and flashes his - clearly beaten by Bond's hand. He makes a show of shrugging it off, though - mainly because he's a sore fucking loser.]

Hey, shit happens! Whatever the fuck sorta luck you got sure as hell ain't beginner's.

[It's innocent enough, but he's becoming suspicious. How does some inexperienced dork beat a table of mobsters and a cheating vampire? Sure, he didn't cheat that time, but next hand he's going to. After all, who the hell doesn't keep a couple kings up their sleeve nowadays? He's sure he's fast enough, always been fast enough before - and hell, what if he's caught? Let's see the guy that'll risk getting on Jan Valentine's blacklist. He grins though, jovial as ever.]

New hand, new hand. Bet your luck doesn't last the night, new guy. Shit never does.

[doubleoohbaby]

[Bond's well aware his little clueless act doesn't quite match with his winning streak, but he's not there to make his act 100% believable, he's there to fuck with Jan and his company. And that's just what he's managing to do.]

Oh, I'm sure you're absolutely right.

[Another two cards each are dealt, and it starts all over, betting with each card that's laid out on the table and watching as people fold out. Bond stays in, not with a brilliant hand, but in the hopes of at least bluffing his way through.]