Poker faces (for esper_cave)
Title: Poker faces
Theme + Number: Luck #2; Awkward #25
Claim: Relm
Characters/Pairings included: Setzer, and a tiny bit of Celes, Terra, and Edgar
Rating: M
Warnings: Relm's filthy mouth. (Including a few f-bombs.)
Summary: "Mind you don't lose more than you can afford."
“No. N-O.”
“Aww, come on,” I half-pleaded, half-whined. “It’s not like you were having any fun playing solitaire. Which we all know is what you play when no one gives a shit enough to play a game of cards with you.”
“Touche, kid,” Setzer retorted.
“Gaah! You’re so annoying.” I reached for a new deck of cards and began shuffling. “There’s nothing to do here.”
He sniffed at me, raising a scarred eyebrow. “I don’t have time for this. Mind you don’t bend my cards.” He turned back to his solitaire. “Go pester someone else.”
“Relm can’t! Grandpa’s drunk off your crappy cheap ole wine, Celes is all mopey over Locke being lost or dead or something, but she won’t admit it, Terra’s all quiet these days, Edgar won’t look at Relm ever since Relm called him a perv, and Sabin’s too blockheaded to have a normal conversation with.” I bit my lip. “Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. But he and Relm have, like, absolutely nothing in common. That leaves you.”
“Solitaire would suit you well.”
“Oh, can it. Relm can kick your ass at poker.”
Setzer raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make bets you can’t make good on,” he sneered. “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a kid. Or a girl.”
“You’ll resent that, ya jerk,” I muttered.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Relm deals.”
“Suit yourself.”
With only two of us, I knew he’d have a hard time counting cards. I looked at my hand. Three sixes, a nine, and a queen. Nothing great. I stared at Setzer, trying to make my eyes bore into his concentration and make him slip up. He was completely motionless. He didn’t even blink.
“Gross,” I said after about forty-five seconds.
“What?” he growled at me. “Concentrating. Quiet.”
His poker face went back on. I decided to sit a few hands and watch his face. We compared hands. Straight flush for him. Damn it. I tossed a couple of gil onto the table towards him. End of round one. “Play again, kiddie?”
“You betcha.” I shuffled the deck and passed out another hand. “You’re goin’ down, pastyface.”
Setzer snorted again. “You watch it, kid.” I glanced at my cards and read into them another crappy hand. Setzer’s face was far more interesting. Nothing helpful. Full house for him, two pair for me. Replaced a card. Nothing. Damn it again. “Up for more, or are you gonna turn in?” he chuckled. I grudgingly fished in my purse for a couple more gil.
“Relm’s gonna beat you,” I countered and slapped the coins on the table. Several rounds passed by, and on the sixth or seventh I noticed something in his super-still face. His left nostril flared the slightest bit, almost like a monkey’s. I giggled and Setzer glared.
“What’s so funny, half-pint?”
“Relm-chan enjoys your company, dear,” I replied in sing-song and held the cards in a coquettish fashion over my face, blinking my eyes way too much on purpose. “Relm’s having fun.”
“At least one of us is,” he scowled. He discarded two cards and I tossed him two new ones. My hand was good. His nose flared again. “Hey. One more.” He slid one towards the discards and I gave him another. I knew I had him.
“Okay, Relm calls. End of round. Let’s see what you’ve got, master,” I giggled.
We laid down our hands. “One pair,” the gambler muttered.
“Straight flush. Relm wins!” I crowed. I leaned towards the small pile of gil and moved it towards me. “Wanna play again?”
A blasé look. “I’ll get my money back,” he sneered. I stared at him again and dealt. Good, I noticed. Bad hand for him. We drew some more cards each. Quad of jacks for me. Setzer had nothing, I could tell.
“Well?”
He glowered. “Three of a kind,” he muttered, laying out three sixes, a nine, and a two.
“Quads,” I said triumphantly. “This is fuckin’ sweet. Pay up.”
He fished in his pants, but all he could find were two one thousand-gil pieces. “Watch your tongue, missy. And mind you don’t lose more than you can afford.”
“Touche, kid,” I mocked him. Man, my luck is bitchin’ good, I thought.
Setzer lost a hand, won two, lost one, won two, and lost the four successive hands, and at the last one, put nothing in the pile. “Payment, please,” I sniffed. “Fair and square. Relm won.”
“I don’t have any more gil to give you,” he said, annoyed. “You win. We’re done and I’ll buy you a drink when you turn eighteen.”
“Nuh-uh,” I replied. “We’re still playing, and you haven’t paid up. So you find something to give me. We’re in your own goddamn airship, for crying out loud. Relm finds it really hard to believe that you don’t have any spare gil in a jar somewhere.”
“Well, there’s not,” he said icily. “I may gamble, but I actually don’t keep all my winnings here with me. May as well have the cash work while I’m out getting more.”
“You may need to steer this thing towards one of those banks, gambler boy, if you can’t find Relm anything of worth.”
He glared at me. A moment passed, and then he took one of his arms out of his coat, then the other. “Here. It’s fine Jidoorian cashmere. Take this.”
“What the hell is Relm going to do with some man’s used coat? Relm’s not gonna use it, and Relm doesn’t know who’s gonna pay for it. Relm wants something else.”
“Take it or leave it, kid.”
“Whatever. Next round.” I dealt again and could tell I had won: straight flush. There’s no way Setzer has a royal. Smirking at the corners of my mouth, we compared hands. “Close, gambler man. But you only have a full house.”
“What now?” he sighed. “I don’t have anything else.”
“Your neck-scarf. It’s fine silk and Relm likes the pattern. Very Southern continent,” I suggested, hoping he’d take the bait.
“Deal. But I’m getting it back.”
“Don’t count on having the cards you want when you can’t count ‘em, sweetheart,” I chided. He tossed his cards back to me and I shuffled the deck a couple of times. The sound the cards made, smartly slapping one another, pleased me. “Down on your luck a little today, huh?”
“Whatever. Deal.”
Deal I did. Exchanged a couple of cards, and then settled. Quad kings, queen kicker for me. Setzer only wished he could be that lucky: two pair.
“Man, you suck. What’s it gonna be this time?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
May as well make the most of this, I thought. Probably not too often he’s in a sticky spot like this. I raised an eyebrow. “That’s Marandan silk, is it not?” I asked, flicking the edge of his poet’s blouse with my fingers.
If stares gave off heat, I’d have been fried to a crisp in a Magitek armor laser beam. But the shirt came off, exposing a milky-white torso riddled with scars. In the dim gas-lit room, I could see how some woman could actually find him attractive. I giggled a bit. “More?” I asked.
“I have to win my clothes back,” he grumbled.
“Tell you what, Relm’ll let you deal this time,” I offered. “But Relm is watching for any foul play. Relm wouldn’t hesitate to sketch something that’d kick your ass.”
“I’ve been a perfect gentleman,” Setzer snapped.
“Aside from you being a whiny little condescending bitch, yeah, a perfect gentleman,” I grinned. He glared at me and I winked. “C’mon. Deal to Relm. We’re still playing, are we not?”
“So, girlie, let’s see what you can do when you’re not the one passing out the cards,” he smirked.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one sitting there without your shirt.”
I looked at my hand. Three tens, a two, and a seven. I kept the tens and asked for two other cards. What are the odds? I grinned to myself - another ten and a jack. Not bad, not bad, Relm. Relm’s the one to beat.
He called. “Quad,” I grinned.
“Oh yeah? Royal flush,” he countered.
“You fucking liar! I have quad tens,” I shouted at him. “You put something in the deck. Fucking cheater.”
“Oh Relm, Relm, do you think I would resort to such lowbrow tactics? A reputed gambler such as myself?”
“Sure you would. Only it don’t work with only two goddamn people,” I hissed. “Relm will let this one slide, but you better give Relm something good. Your ring, or your belt buckle, or something.”
He stood up and unbuckled his belt. Elbows on the table, I ogled his body in mock lust as he turned around. “Oh, handsome,” I murmured. “Get out of those pesky little pants, and let’s - ”
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. The door swung open, hinges squealing, and Celes, Terra, and Edgar all jumped at the sight, Edgar dropping a wineglass on the floor. “This… this is… not what you think it is!” Setzer stammered, his pale face turning a crimson to match Edgar’s wasted cabernet.
“Like fun it wasn’t, daaahling,” I purred, fanning myself with a handful of cards. I looked at the intruders. Celes and Edgar had stopped in their tracks, their mouths open. I could practically see Edgar’s tonsils. Terra, for her part, had turned a bright shade of pink. “And the fun was just starting…” I trailed off.
“Relm. What the hell are you two doing?” Celes very nearly shouted.
“Nothing, Celes, nothing,” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Just having a little bit of… fun. Relm needed a little bit of company, that’s all.” Setzer had turned his back to us, pulling on his shirt and coat hastily.
“This kind of company? Relm, you’re eleven.”
“Twelve. My birthday was last month.”
Edgar cleared his throat and knelt down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. Terra stood silently as though in shell shock, blinking her eyes and covering her nose and mouth with one hand. Touch a nerve, Relm? I felt a little bad for her.
“Well, Relm won, fair and square,” I announced. “Anyone up for some poker?” Everyone shook their heads a little too quickly. “Well, then, guess Relm ought to go practice sketching.” I stood and turned towards the door. On the way out, I took Terra aside. “Go for it, lady, he’s kind of hot in that scarred pasty waif kind of way,” I stage-whispered with a wink. I’m sure she turned a little pinker still, and I whistled a little tune on my way out, knowing their awkward silence and stammered scraps of conversation would be just as amusing in my imagination as in real life.
Theme + Number: Luck #2; Awkward #25
Claim: Relm
Characters/Pairings included: Setzer, and a tiny bit of Celes, Terra, and Edgar
Rating: M
Warnings: Relm's filthy mouth. (Including a few f-bombs.)
Summary: "Mind you don't lose more than you can afford."
“No. N-O.”
“Aww, come on,” I half-pleaded, half-whined. “It’s not like you were having any fun playing solitaire. Which we all know is what you play when no one gives a shit enough to play a game of cards with you.”
“Touche, kid,” Setzer retorted.
“Gaah! You’re so annoying.” I reached for a new deck of cards and began shuffling. “There’s nothing to do here.”
He sniffed at me, raising a scarred eyebrow. “I don’t have time for this. Mind you don’t bend my cards.” He turned back to his solitaire. “Go pester someone else.”
“Relm can’t! Grandpa’s drunk off your crappy cheap ole wine, Celes is all mopey over Locke being lost or dead or something, but she won’t admit it, Terra’s all quiet these days, Edgar won’t look at Relm ever since Relm called him a perv, and Sabin’s too blockheaded to have a normal conversation with.” I bit my lip. “Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. But he and Relm have, like, absolutely nothing in common. That leaves you.”
“Solitaire would suit you well.”
“Oh, can it. Relm can kick your ass at poker.”
Setzer raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make bets you can’t make good on,” he sneered. “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a kid. Or a girl.”
“You’ll resent that, ya jerk,” I muttered.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Relm deals.”
“Suit yourself.”
With only two of us, I knew he’d have a hard time counting cards. I looked at my hand. Three sixes, a nine, and a queen. Nothing great. I stared at Setzer, trying to make my eyes bore into his concentration and make him slip up. He was completely motionless. He didn’t even blink.
“Gross,” I said after about forty-five seconds.
“What?” he growled at me. “Concentrating. Quiet.”
His poker face went back on. I decided to sit a few hands and watch his face. We compared hands. Straight flush for him. Damn it. I tossed a couple of gil onto the table towards him. End of round one. “Play again, kiddie?”
“You betcha.” I shuffled the deck and passed out another hand. “You’re goin’ down, pastyface.”
Setzer snorted again. “You watch it, kid.” I glanced at my cards and read into them another crappy hand. Setzer’s face was far more interesting. Nothing helpful. Full house for him, two pair for me. Replaced a card. Nothing. Damn it again. “Up for more, or are you gonna turn in?” he chuckled. I grudgingly fished in my purse for a couple more gil.
“Relm’s gonna beat you,” I countered and slapped the coins on the table. Several rounds passed by, and on the sixth or seventh I noticed something in his super-still face. His left nostril flared the slightest bit, almost like a monkey’s. I giggled and Setzer glared.
“What’s so funny, half-pint?”
“Relm-chan enjoys your company, dear,” I replied in sing-song and held the cards in a coquettish fashion over my face, blinking my eyes way too much on purpose. “Relm’s having fun.”
“At least one of us is,” he scowled. He discarded two cards and I tossed him two new ones. My hand was good. His nose flared again. “Hey. One more.” He slid one towards the discards and I gave him another. I knew I had him.
“Okay, Relm calls. End of round. Let’s see what you’ve got, master,” I giggled.
We laid down our hands. “One pair,” the gambler muttered.
“Straight flush. Relm wins!” I crowed. I leaned towards the small pile of gil and moved it towards me. “Wanna play again?”
A blasé look. “I’ll get my money back,” he sneered. I stared at him again and dealt. Good, I noticed. Bad hand for him. We drew some more cards each. Quad of jacks for me. Setzer had nothing, I could tell.
“Well?”
He glowered. “Three of a kind,” he muttered, laying out three sixes, a nine, and a two.
“Quads,” I said triumphantly. “This is fuckin’ sweet. Pay up.”
He fished in his pants, but all he could find were two one thousand-gil pieces. “Watch your tongue, missy. And mind you don’t lose more than you can afford.”
“Touche, kid,” I mocked him. Man, my luck is bitchin’ good, I thought.
Setzer lost a hand, won two, lost one, won two, and lost the four successive hands, and at the last one, put nothing in the pile. “Payment, please,” I sniffed. “Fair and square. Relm won.”
“I don’t have any more gil to give you,” he said, annoyed. “You win. We’re done and I’ll buy you a drink when you turn eighteen.”
“Nuh-uh,” I replied. “We’re still playing, and you haven’t paid up. So you find something to give me. We’re in your own goddamn airship, for crying out loud. Relm finds it really hard to believe that you don’t have any spare gil in a jar somewhere.”
“Well, there’s not,” he said icily. “I may gamble, but I actually don’t keep all my winnings here with me. May as well have the cash work while I’m out getting more.”
“You may need to steer this thing towards one of those banks, gambler boy, if you can’t find Relm anything of worth.”
He glared at me. A moment passed, and then he took one of his arms out of his coat, then the other. “Here. It’s fine Jidoorian cashmere. Take this.”
“What the hell is Relm going to do with some man’s used coat? Relm’s not gonna use it, and Relm doesn’t know who’s gonna pay for it. Relm wants something else.”
“Take it or leave it, kid.”
“Whatever. Next round.” I dealt again and could tell I had won: straight flush. There’s no way Setzer has a royal. Smirking at the corners of my mouth, we compared hands. “Close, gambler man. But you only have a full house.”
“What now?” he sighed. “I don’t have anything else.”
“Your neck-scarf. It’s fine silk and Relm likes the pattern. Very Southern continent,” I suggested, hoping he’d take the bait.
“Deal. But I’m getting it back.”
“Don’t count on having the cards you want when you can’t count ‘em, sweetheart,” I chided. He tossed his cards back to me and I shuffled the deck a couple of times. The sound the cards made, smartly slapping one another, pleased me. “Down on your luck a little today, huh?”
“Whatever. Deal.”
Deal I did. Exchanged a couple of cards, and then settled. Quad kings, queen kicker for me. Setzer only wished he could be that lucky: two pair.
“Man, you suck. What’s it gonna be this time?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
May as well make the most of this, I thought. Probably not too often he’s in a sticky spot like this. I raised an eyebrow. “That’s Marandan silk, is it not?” I asked, flicking the edge of his poet’s blouse with my fingers.
If stares gave off heat, I’d have been fried to a crisp in a Magitek armor laser beam. But the shirt came off, exposing a milky-white torso riddled with scars. In the dim gas-lit room, I could see how some woman could actually find him attractive. I giggled a bit. “More?” I asked.
“I have to win my clothes back,” he grumbled.
“Tell you what, Relm’ll let you deal this time,” I offered. “But Relm is watching for any foul play. Relm wouldn’t hesitate to sketch something that’d kick your ass.”
“I’ve been a perfect gentleman,” Setzer snapped.
“Aside from you being a whiny little condescending bitch, yeah, a perfect gentleman,” I grinned. He glared at me and I winked. “C’mon. Deal to Relm. We’re still playing, are we not?”
“So, girlie, let’s see what you can do when you’re not the one passing out the cards,” he smirked.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one sitting there without your shirt.”
I looked at my hand. Three tens, a two, and a seven. I kept the tens and asked for two other cards. What are the odds? I grinned to myself - another ten and a jack. Not bad, not bad, Relm. Relm’s the one to beat.
He called. “Quad,” I grinned.
“Oh yeah? Royal flush,” he countered.
“You fucking liar! I have quad tens,” I shouted at him. “You put something in the deck. Fucking cheater.”
“Oh Relm, Relm, do you think I would resort to such lowbrow tactics? A reputed gambler such as myself?”
“Sure you would. Only it don’t work with only two goddamn people,” I hissed. “Relm will let this one slide, but you better give Relm something good. Your ring, or your belt buckle, or something.”
He stood up and unbuckled his belt. Elbows on the table, I ogled his body in mock lust as he turned around. “Oh, handsome,” I murmured. “Get out of those pesky little pants, and let’s - ”
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. The door swung open, hinges squealing, and Celes, Terra, and Edgar all jumped at the sight, Edgar dropping a wineglass on the floor. “This… this is… not what you think it is!” Setzer stammered, his pale face turning a crimson to match Edgar’s wasted cabernet.
“Like fun it wasn’t, daaahling,” I purred, fanning myself with a handful of cards. I looked at the intruders. Celes and Edgar had stopped in their tracks, their mouths open. I could practically see Edgar’s tonsils. Terra, for her part, had turned a bright shade of pink. “And the fun was just starting…” I trailed off.
“Relm. What the hell are you two doing?” Celes very nearly shouted.
“Nothing, Celes, nothing,” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Just having a little bit of… fun. Relm needed a little bit of company, that’s all.” Setzer had turned his back to us, pulling on his shirt and coat hastily.
“This kind of company? Relm, you’re eleven.”
“Twelve. My birthday was last month.”
Edgar cleared his throat and knelt down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. Terra stood silently as though in shell shock, blinking her eyes and covering her nose and mouth with one hand. Touch a nerve, Relm? I felt a little bad for her.
“Well, Relm won, fair and square,” I announced. “Anyone up for some poker?” Everyone shook their heads a little too quickly. “Well, then, guess Relm ought to go practice sketching.” I stood and turned towards the door. On the way out, I took Terra aside. “Go for it, lady, he’s kind of hot in that scarred pasty waif kind of way,” I stage-whispered with a wink. I’m sure she turned a little pinker still, and I whistled a little tune on my way out, knowing their awkward silence and stammered scraps of conversation would be just as amusing in my imagination as in real life.