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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[number_unlucky]

After everything, I'd decided it was a good time to get out and put myself out there. The Casino Night was at least something a little more...classy...than drinking in the Hub with homebrew hooch. I was enjoying myself, having found a slinky dress in the box, remembering the hospital fundraisers of my past.

More fun than those, especially when Cuddy watched people like hawks. House's fault.

That said, showgirls? A little too over the top. Maybe the fact that I'd watched too many repeats of way-past-shark-jumping CSI had something to do with my skepticism, or maybe it was just latent Judith Butler from my undergraduate days.

Even if they were hot.

I sipped my martini and considered my next move. Blackjack, maybe?

[246th]

"That is a bloody fantastic dress."

Martha has managed to look perfectly serviceable in tailored black, five month bump and all. She's swept her hair up. She's made an effort. And then she runs into Remy and starts to feel like the fat lump that she must actually look like.

She's actually starting to miss court gear.

[number_unlucky]

I didn't usually buy the whole radiant pregnancy thing, thinking it a whole load of bullshit, but Martha looked really good. Far better than she had when we'd met, anyway.

"Thanks," I said, and smiled, resisting the urge to pat her on the shoulder...stupid pregnancy reaction, probably. "You look lovely, are you enjoying yourself? Sometimes island parties can be a little awkward if you don't have a drink."

[246th]

"I look pregnant," she said, "but thankyou." She raised her glass of orange juice, one eyebrow quirking. "I'm fine. Really, genuinely, I'm okay."

[sortofaman]

The Doctor didn't gamble, mostly because he himself did count cards, was very good at it, and, being himself, never quit while he was ahead. Sometimes it was handy, but here...he wasn't exactly going to bilk his fellow islanders out of hard-produced goods.

Unless someone insisted.

He was mostly here for the dancing and the hors d'oeuvres, and because he was keeping an eye out for one of several women he was very interested in running into. (That sentence had made more sense before he'd thought it.) In the meantime, he enjoyed wearing a tux, the evening air, and everyone's lovely attire.

[badblood_rising]

Once again, Sam finds himself at a party he's not especially yearning to go to by virtue of Shari hosting it. If he's serious about this idea that he's not a party guy, he should really look into getting some less social friends. But for now, he's dressed up to the nines, sipping a drink, watching the crowd and telling himself he cannot, under any circumstances, hustle everyone at poker. It wouldn't be right, no matter how much he's got his eye on some of the auction items. That doesn't stop him from watching one of the tables though, intensely enough that he might burn a hole in the wood.

[wishesandsmoke]

"You know, you could just come over and play," Eden says, crooking a finger at Sam as she walks up. She's on a break between rounds, but eventually she'll have to head back to her table and deal again, and there's no reason he should always be standing off by himself at these events. "Unless you're planning to win with your mind."

[badblood_rising]

Her voice shatters his attention and he blinks before refocusing on Eden. Grinning, he shakes his head. "That could be dangerous," he says. "And isn't the whole point of poker that you are really winning with your mind?" he counters. "Bluffs, tells, playing by faces."

[wishesandsmoke]

"I mean psychically," Eden says, mock-serious, "but I guess you're right. You're good at it?" She's played before, but dealing, being good at dealing, that's something she's had to learn for the occasion and worked hard at. He seemed a little bit somewhere else for a moment, but now he's focused on her, she forgets to ask if he's okay.

[usethecompany]

Kennedy would not attribute a marked ability to play cards unto himself, though he had shared many a table and watched many more with his fellow officers during the slow, darkening hours of a day. As such, high hopes were not in abundance when he made his appearance at the casino night. His expectations had limited themselves to a few drinks, socializing and the show.

But upon arrival, Archie had chanced to observe the mah-jongg table. Observation being the best teacher -- second only to the gentleman running the games -- Archie soon found himself in the thick of it, deeply engaged in play. Though perhaps never meant to be a captain, the strategy of playing with men beyond him, the strategy of playing with tiles proved well within his grasp. He excelled at the game, and quite happily so, until he had in his possession a most impressive collection of chips.

[bennet_beauty]

"Are you having much luck?" Jane asked with wide and eager eyes. She could not imbibe any of the liquor and did not feel as though she wished to drink, but she found great delight in watching the games of other people. This game with tiles seemed so odd and so she had lingered here, searching for a manner of play over the time.

[usethecompany]

Looking first to ascertain who was speaking to him and to whom he would be speaking in turn, Archie smiled warmly when he realized he was in the company of the now Mrs. Lipton. "A great deal, it would seem," he replied, unable to help the breadth of his amused smile. "I confess, I am not certain as to how I acquired such luck as I was quite unfamiliar with the game before tonight. But I am in what would appear to be a very long streak of luck."

[bennet_beauty]

Jane was most happy to learn that Archie was experiencing a great deal of luck. She adjusted her stance in order to grow closer to him, peering at the strange tiles. "I do not think I shall ask you to explain the rules, seeing as I do not wish to waste your time, but do at least tell me that you have profitted well."

[liliesfromluce]

Luce almost feels a bit silly about her contribution when she sees some of the other amazing things on the books for the evening. She's only really got the floral-experience to offer seeing as she thinks 'one hot night of sex with a lesbian' is a bit...well, tacky, to put up for bid. She's roaming around the tables to decide what to spend her chips on, dressed in a frilly black and white mini-dress and her attention on the gambling about her.

She rubs her chips together against her lips when she stops just outside the poker table and wonders if she could really pull a proper poker face together or whether she should just watch, for now.

[number_unlucky]

There was someone else considering the card tables as I stood with my drink. It was...the woman who did flowers (name escaped me at the moment, though I knew her face; that was pretty much my life, these days). She was wearing a terribly cute dress, and I looked her over for a long minute, thanks to the martinis I'd had with Chase.

Then, of course, I looked over at the table.

[liliesfromluce]

Luce catches just the tail end of the look, but it's enough to bolster up something that feels remarkably like possibility. She pushes away from where she's standing and makes her way over to the woman with a coy smile on her lips. "Between the both of us, our indecision could possibly overwhelm most of the people in our wake," she deadpans teasingly.

[number_unlucky]

Right, and therefore the question on my mind was most definitely Is the ridiculously hot woman flirting with me? Sometimes these things were harder to tell than people might think, at least with women...especially telling if it was serious or not. I'd flirted jokingly with plenty of straight women friends, after all.

I played along, smiling back. "Most likely," I agreed. "See, I'd like to play, but I really, really hate to lose."