Gambling over legos.

[payingthepiper]

Who: A payingthepiper and a neargenius.
When: Forwarded to Tuesday, August 17th. Early evening.
Where: Near's apartment.
Summary: A friendly game of Hearts.
Warnings: Albinos.

Comments

[neargenius]

It was probably a bad idea. Ever since his conversation with Allen Walker--someone he had seen on the network before, a name that he had noted as being mentioned from time to time--he had been thinking that it was probably a bad idea.

When he had first arrived at Siren's Port, Near had not gone out. And no one had come in to their apartment, either. Inviting people over wasn't something that they did--not in any context, socially or for working purposes or for any reason. They could communicate with people just as easily through alternate channels. And it was safer.

Allen Walker did not seem particularly dangerous. And he wanted to play cards. In the absence of the larger, more important parts of the Kira case, there was nothing to do. A game--a challenge. That was interesting.

So this was all right, really.

Near didn't answer the knock right away. He was lying on the floor, putting together a model plane. The molding glue made his fingertips particularly sticky. He rolled onto his back for a moment, silent, then pushed up from the floor and went to open the door.

Well, to look through the peephole first. Then he opened the door, keeping slightly behind it. Silent, of course, not a greeting--just watching. An interesting physical appearance. Hair that was similar in hue to Near's. A marking. Somewhere around Near's age.

Okay. He kept close behind the door, but nodded. Come inside.

[payingthepiper]

Maybe he should have spied in himself, but the thought didn't cross Allen's mind; he was more for glancing down the hallway distractedly, as those who cross new territory are wont to do. Even if it had been a few months, the entire business was still surreal: wide halls, walls that weren't wallpapered, a hum of what he now knew as electricity and ventilation making it never a silent place. When the door did open, though, his attention was once more redirected. He made it a point not to stare at the boy's hair (or eyes, but that hardly occurred to Allen), though a few thoughts might have wandered onto the tracks of wanting to know why that was.

And why he wasn't speaking, while keeping behind the door. But the exorcist had gone into this knowing the other was a mite strange, hadn't he?

He had. So once that nod was given, a larger smile was returned; crossing the threshold with easy, if a restrained sort of politeness. The first thing that might have hit him would be the lack of decorative items on the wall - the second would be the model plane. The first was thought at with doesn't he live with someone?, while the second was met with mild confusion and a completely unrecognized glance. In the end, Allen opted to stepping toward the side, glancing part-way over his shoulder before turning properly toward Near.

At least, he hoped it was Near, and not someone Near lived with. Actually-- that- would be a good thing to know for sure.

"Hello." After entering a house-- he could feel those old manner lessons ripping at his hair. In compensation, he tried to keep his voice as light as possible. "You're Near, correct?"

[neargenius]

Near nodded again at the hello, but still didn't respond so directly. He watched Allen for a few more moments, silent--it was probably an unnerving stare, but he didn't break it.

"I'm Near," he said eventually. "And you're Allen. You can go further inside, if you want." He ducked his head slightly, staring at his socks. "We can play at the table."

He shut the door and locked it again--all the locks. His fingers were still sticky from the model glue and, before he turned around, Near pressed them together experimentally, sticking and unsticking them. Thoughtful. It was strange to have someone else--someone besides Mello, and that old cat that he had found--but it would be all right.

And they would play a game. That was the best. He turned and shuffled towards the coffee table, his fingers wrapped around his sleeve. "Do you get thirsty, when you play cards?" It was a roundabout way of asking if he wanted a drink. Politeness had never been Near's strong suit.

[payingthepiper]

The words were strange (not bad), the boy a bit so (and losing that status as seconds went by), but offers were offers were offers, and Allen could smile and nod and actually mean all of it. He'd met others who were around his age here, but 'hanging out and playing cards' had never, ever been something he'd really done.

It was a bit surreal.

If he thought too much about it, at least. "Alright," Simple, easy words, already turning away to spot that table. "I brought my own deck, if you'd rather not get out yours."

He wasn't being insulting - some people were really picky about what cards they used. Aha, and there was the table-- there were locks being clicked into place, one-two-three-more-than-three, and he noted each of them somewhere in the back of his mind, even if he also ignored them- a seat to be taken, perched on the edge of the couch, head only tilting to Near's direction as the boy approached. The oddest part had to be the clothing, but he'd gotten used to ignoring that for a while now.

"Ah, not that much." Depending on the game length, the opponent, whether or not he'd eaten beforehand. Nonetheless, genuine again, "Thanks for asking, though."

[neargenius]

Near shrugged at both the offer of the cards and the thanks, falling to his knees beside the table. He kept that posture for a moment, staring at the tabletop, then eventually pulled his knees up to his chest, curling one finger around a strand of his hair.

"Yours are fine." Using one's own cards often inspired a sense of security--even if this security would be singularly false, in this case. Near was quite confident in his ability to win at games, even if the game itself was based more on the luck of the draw than anything else. "Unless they've been somehow marked, to facilitate cheating."

Another brief pause, and he rolled his head onto his shoulder to stare sidelong at Allen instead. He took another minute to size him up, his eyes narrowed slightly--then, the tiniest nod. "You can set up the game, since they're yours. That would be okay."

Idly poking at the tabletop with his free hand--his fingertip still a bit sticky from the glue--he watched Allen's hands instead, waiting for him to begin with the cards.

[payingthepiper]

Allen couldn't help a tilt of the head, at that posture; but it was another fleeting wonderment, gone in the next second. The shrug at his words - well. He was used to that. Near wasn't a Kanda, and that was enough for Allen to be happy over.

"They aren't. As far as I know, anyway." Another reason to carry your own. Tavern regulars tended to do that. He shucked his out of the pocket without any more preamble (small talk: probably something Near wouldn't appreciate, given how he'd acted so far), flipping through the deck as deftly as anyone. The two of spades and the two of hearts were taken out and set back, a short nod at that 'you can set up the game,' followed by dealing twenty-one cards each (no tricks, just as he'd told himself). Hearts wasn't meant for two players, but... they could probably make do, he thought.

Playing a game of cards against a detective. He could hear his Master choking on his laughter. Actually, that image wasn't so bad, as long as he went through with the choking.

He looked up, posture straight and head tilt still there. "Where would you like to set the penalty level?"

[neargenius]

Near kept quite still, watching Allen deal out the cards, his finger still wrapped around the strand of hair. It was a flat look, a dull look--some people might interpret it as boredom. Near was anything but bored.

There was a certain sort of anticipation that came just before a game was played. This particular game was on a more personal level--"social" would be a good word for it, perhaps--so the anticipation wasn't as great, but he could still feel it rather clearly.

He didn't take his allotted cards right away, or look up at Allen, but kept his eyes on his opponent's hands for a few minutes. "You decide," he replied eventually, "because they're your cards." Another pause, meditative, still locked in his slightly convoluted posture. "Do you usually play games with people you don't know?"

[payingthepiper]

"Maybe one hundred and twenty." A smile on the face and a smile in the voice; but his eyes were to the cards, shuffling everything just rightly so because a mess wouldn't have helped anyone. He sat back after, gaze turning upwards, hand stilling just a moment over his own cards as he noticed Near's untouched pile. Ah...

"Sometimes." Because it was better to not lie than anything else. Besides, "Not enough for 'usually.'"

Enough for a boost when the landlord wanted a sudden increase in rent, or when he'd met someone else who needed it more. Enough that he wasn't really sure what to do with it all, the box under a loose floorboard being half-full and far more money than he'd ever had before, even while knowing that exchange rates were rather... off. But with no debt, it was a bit overwhelming.

He'd been meaning to check out a bank sometime, but it seemed too official. "You don't?" Assumption, not a cruel one.

[neargenius]

One hundred and twenty sounded all right. Near nodded, curling the strand of hair tighter and tighter around his finger, waiting for the sharp throb of cut circulation. Once he felt it, he let the strand go, unwinding it from around his finger. Only then did he reach out and pull his cards towards him, scraping them across the tabletop.

"In public venues," he guessed aloud, his voice dull with the slightest of thoughtful edges to it. "Casinos. Bars. Places like that. I suppose playing games with strangers is normal, in those sorts of locations. It's interesting to pick up a game with someone over a network. But I suppose it would be like playing a game on the internet."

It was almost small talk, or as close as Near ever got to such a thing. Speculating on the motivations and mindset of other people was habit by now; figuring them out, figuring out the way that they thought and why they thought at all. He didn't turn his cards over just yet, but ran one thumb around the edge of the topmost one, contemplative.

"I don't. There isn't time." A pause. "This is the first, I believe."

Really, it had been stupid to let a near-stranger into the apartment. Near felt a slight touch of irritation at himself. But he had seen Allen's activity on the network. A trustworthy person, from those records--not that such an impression could be trusted completely. It was stupid, yes--and yet sometimes, a good game was something that just couldn't be passed up.

[payingthepiper]

Eyes flicking up and down, a curious raise of his eyebrows along with it; the look of someone who wanted to pay utmost attention to what was being said to them, but couldn't afford to leave his own hands unattended, sliding his pile of cards off the table before picking them up, ruffling through them - it was simply difficult, to slide a nail or such under them when you were wearing gloves - with half of a mind to picking out three of those cards. Now, he might have told himself he wouldn't go cheating or anything unfair like that, but that didn't mean he'd throw the rest of his experience behind his playing. Near... wasn't a normal person, that much was obvious (habits aside), but even if he had been, card games were challenges. Challenges were things Allen wouldn't go throwing away because of a number; after all, that young age only meant Near would be sharper than most. And maybe that was a bit cruel, but never let it be said Walker didn't have the pride that made almost every boy want to beat another to the top.

Especially since he still didn't really have an idea of what an internet was supposed to be, never mind playing games over it (playing cards over the network sounded like a horror).

He... wasn't sure Near wanted an answer or acknowledgment or not, since it seemed like just spoken thoughts, but he gave a small nod, anyway. It wasn't like it was a secret, though he'd found that people of this era didn't appreciate 'minors' wandering around taverns even more than those back home.

Quiet teenager, most definitely. Observant. Kind of... Maybe. Removed from emotion? That was a mean thought, it probably wasn't like that-- "I hope I leave a good impression for games like this, in that case. They can be interesting, with the amount of people to run into." - Probably a strategist (so young? useless thought, he'd stop them right there), probably relied more on rules than luck of the draw, but you never knew for sure. All in all, though, someone Allen thought he could win against, so long as he watched himself.

Three cards, twirled out of his twenty-one with his right hand, smile still on, attention completely focused with eye contact. "Pass?"

What? He was ready. It was a habit, to start the hand as quickly as possible and observe from there. All of those oddities of Near's only served to make Allen more curious, though while his manners might have suffered in the realm of 'pleasantries when not strictly required,' they didn't falter around 'don't ask prying questions to people you don't know.' Indirect routes were preferred.

[neargenius]

A slight pause. Near pushed the meat of his thumb against the edge of the card, letting it dig in for a moment. Even after Allen had clearly moved to begin the game, he still didn't pick up his cards straightaway, but poked at them thoughtfully.

There was an easy in a card game, and there was a challenge to them, too. Some minor skill was involved, and certainly some amount of strategy--but it also largely depended on the hand that one had been dealt. The moment before looking at the hand was a good one, full of anticipation and chance.

After a minute, Near took the cards to hand, running his fingertips over the top of them with a solemn sort of air, his eyes moving over the numbers and colors and suits gathered there. Twenty-one cards.

He selected three rather quickly, and slid them across the table to Allen. Hearts wasn't played with two people, but it would work, after a fashion. It was the opportunity to play something against someone else that Near was interested in. Before, he had been content to play against himself and himself alone. Now--after a handful of games with others--it was growing easier to see why games with an opponent were desirable at all.

[payingthepiper]

"Should we each play two cards a turn?" The first hand was one of the most important. For that reason, Allen didn't even bother mentally raising an eyebrow at Near's poking and prodding; shuffled through his cards, noted the suits and leaning and-- ah. The Queen of Spades. Wasn't he lucky?

That was too ironic to even pretend to laugh at.

Well. An aggressive stance, then. Leading tricks wasn't too difficult, though he didn't want to start doing it right then. This was a game that could go quickly or go slowly - here, he looked up, flipping the cards he'd decided to play on the top. A few questions in mind, but again--

"Who would you normally play against? Or, just on the 'internet?'" Emphasis over that word, couldn't help it. He'd just gotten used to the Network, and that was only because it was so similar to the Black Order's lines.

[neargenius]

Near nodded, still staring at his cards. "Without partners, playing two cards makes sense." He shuffled a few cards forward in his hand, mentally calculating tricks that could follow. It was a mixed hand, all things considered--several suits and a range of numbers. That could prove good or bad; it would all depend on the ensuing game.

"I've played on the computer, before," he responded dully, eyes fixed on the cards. "Against the system itself, and against opponents over the internet. And when I was younger, I played occasionally against others." They had been busy, kept occupied with work, but there had been times to play games. Near hadn't been the most popular opponent--probably because he won. But he had still had the opportunity from time to time.

A glance up at Allen, studying his face. "They don't have the internet, where you're from," he guessed aloud, cocking his head slightly. The stress on the word had made that much clear. And a pause, too. "Since you dealt the cards, I suppose I should go first."

[payingthepiper]

No real use in trying to lay out the future moves when the first hand hadn't even been laid - he had a few rudimentary plans in his mind, borne of maybe playing the game one too many times in the younger years (when even his Master couldn't convince the most blind of tavern owners that the eleven-year-old he was carting around was old enough to attend the poker tables) but mostly just of playing cards. It was a game he enjoyed, bad memories attached or no; easy, relaxed, but with enough of a competitive edge to not be boring.

But, now, playing on the computer... Against the system itself? Would that be a challenge? Everything would be so automated, he assumed-- it would kind of defeat the purpose of the spirit of the game, wouldn't it? But - to each their own.

"It's a problem of 'when,' I think." Rather than where. He didn't tilt his head himself, though he was oddly tempted to. But even if Near looked really young... "What kept you from playing with others after?"

And a pause-- ah, yes. A nod, with a lopsided smile. Go ahead. Friendly, completely and utterly.