Casino Night!

[broken_brushes]

When I'd first come up with the idea of Casino Night, I wasn't sure if it was even possible on the island. In retrospect, that might have been naive of me, because if there was anything I'd learned in over four years on Tabula Rasa, it was that its residents were capable of doing just about anything save getting home

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[grabmyballs]

Cook thinks as little as fucking possible of this place most days, but a party is a party, booze is booze and gambling makes dressing up almost worth it. He doesn't care about money; yeah, it had been useful that his mother was loaded (in more ways than one), but he got along just as well with as without. But winning. Winning doesn't have anything to do with money.

His bowtie's undone and hanging around his neck, his jacket's been ditched somewhere and his shirt's untucked before 8 o'clock has even rolled around. He has also made good progress towards his goal of blacking out from alcohol overload when the evening ends. His feet still under him at this point, Cook grabs a bit of wall to lean against and spends his break from the tables by playing another game. Squeezing his right eye shut and tucking his tongue into the corner of his mouth, he takes very careful aim and tosses a chip into a passing drink. That's the plan anyway.

[[The chip can land in your pup's drink, hit them in the head, whatever you desire to happen. Feel free

[grabmyballs]

Cook takes the time to consider that first offer in his typical exaggerated fashion, and predictably he judges it to be lacking. "And what are the winnings?" he queries. "You gonna let me sit behind you on a horseback riding lesson?"

[knowthyexits]

"No, but I could be inclined to shoot at you if I win the lessons," she replies instantly, with an easy enough smile to show that she isn't completely put-off by him. "Your call, obviously."

[grabmyballs]

He flashes her a smile in return, more amused by the reply than threatened. People who bother with threatening him with bodily harm rarely if ever follow through. "Think I'll pass on this deal," Cook decides. "No hard feelings, yeah?"

[lonewolflives]

Arya's hand flicked out, quick as a snake, and caught the chip just before it landed in the oblivious patron's drink. She looked at it, tossed it in the air and caught it, and then sauntered over to the guy who'd thrown it.

"You're meant to bet with them, not throw them away," she pointed out, not harshly.

[grabmyballs]

Cook would have expected the target to catch the chip. He's got his gaze firmly planted on the one body, expecting something. And then out of nowhere, this hand appears. Or rather the chip just disappears because that's too quick for Cook to realize what's happened for a second.

He blinks and refocuses on the girl... The hot girl wearing a fitted tux. Cook wouldn't necessarily list that as one of his turn-ons, but she makes it work. She's got confidence. That's a lot more important than what it does or doesn't mean that he likes the look.

"Throwing them away?" he echoes, tilting his head and putting half an effort into looking befuddled. "That was a drink I was aiming for, not a trash can. Maybe it is a bet."

[lonewolflives]

"A bet on what?" Arya said, craning her neck to get another look at the drink he'd been aiming at. "You lost, anyway," she added, holding up the chip and then passing her other hand in front of it, using a trick she'd learned from a mummer in Braavos to disappear it down her sleeve, waggling her empty fingers at him once they were in view again.

[grabmyballs]

He watches the trick with almost eager eyes and a faint smile on his face creeping towards genuine. It reminds him of JJ and, before the grief and the loneliness set in, he's genuinely entertained.

"Betting on reactions," Cook eventually explains, then shakes his head. "And, you know, I really don't think I did."

[lonewolflives]

"No?" she asked, getting interested, now. She liked knowing things about people. Maybe this was the same kind of thing, applied to how they reacted if a chip landed in their drink.

Which wasn't terribly useful information, she didn't think, but it did seem kind of amusing.

"I got in the way of the reaction, though. So you just throw it in a drink and guess what they're going to do?" She reappeared the chip and tossed it up, catching it consideringly.

[grabmyballs]

"You are a reaction," he points out, his eyes not leaving her for a long moment.

Cook shrugs and breaks his gaze, nodding to the room at large. "I throw a chip. Who knows what happens? I expect it to land in a drink, or hit someone in the head. Maybe roll down some cleavage." There was enough of it wandering around that it could happen. Cook's still holding out hope. "Instead I get you," he says, eyes returning to her. "Odds are something boring will happen. I win when it doesn't."

[lonewolflives]

She considered this. She'd never gotten as bored on the island as other people complained of, instead finding plenty to fill time with, and parties seldom bored her; even at the more staid ones, if you hung back and just watched, there was something to see.

But she'd never argue against a more hands-on approach to livening things up.

"You're right," she said, "you did win. I'm not something boring. Think I can get this into someone's glass without them noticing? Bet I can."

[grabmyballs]

He breaks into a toothy grin, pleased with her answer and new company, for the moment. Crossing his arms over his chest, Cook leans back against the piece of wall he's holding up, content to watch for a little.

He completely believes that she could get the chip into a glass unnoticed, but he chooses to play contrary for fun. "Alright," Cook says. "Prove it. Betcha.. five chips."

[lonewolflives]

"Deal," she said, scanning for an appropriate target before spotting a drink she had a clear throw to, at one of the roulette tables.

Spike Spiegel had quick hands and sharp eyes, though, it was why she'd been on at him to try and get him to show her some moves. She could pick another, she supposed, but then again, that wouldn't be as fun if it worked.

She waited for the wheel to stop and the crowd about it to make their groans and cheers and flicked the chip out into the air, where it hit the far rim of the drink with what she was sure would be an audible clink, dammit, before falling in with a small splash.

Well, he'd have had to have noticed that.

Except... instead he picked up the drink, knocked it back, and when he put it back down, drink and chip both were gone. She waited a moment, to see if he was about to start choking, but when that didn't happen, she started chortling instead.

[grabmyballs]

Cook watches, entranced for the moment by the action at hand. He expects biggish things from this chick and doesn't want to miss them.

The chip falls and Cook straights, pushing away from the wall like he might run or dig into his pocket for her reward. But his eyes don't fall away from the glass yet. (It's at the side of a green-haired man. Who can look away from that easily?) The glass goes up and the glass goes down. The chip's there and then it disappears. Cook's eyes are as wide as saucers as he waits for the payoff, and when none comes, that's like a payoff itself.

"Holy shit," he guffaws, pressing a fist to his mouth to lesson the noise. "Holy shit. What the- How the fuck does that happen?"

[lonewolflives]

"I have no fucking idea," she said, his laughter causing her to crack up even harder, disbelief tinging the sound. "That man is not right in the head. Or the throat."

[grabmyballs]

Cook snorts at the dumb joke and pushes her by the shoulder for it.

"Shit, you're dangerous," he says with a wide grin. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. Fuck knows what I'd end up with slipped into my drink."