Nothin' But An Honest Game of Cards

It's a fairly typical night in the Ox-Strength bar; all the low-lifes are here, along with people who want to observe low-lifes in their element, and a few people who stand or sit wide-eyed around the edges of the main tavern hall who just couldn't find rooms for the night anywhere else. The atmosphere is rowdy and full of smoke; someone is busy half-heartedly punching someone in a corner (they're finished fighting, really, they're just going through the motions in a drunken stupor at this point) and a bard has given up singing and is just getting herself drunk.

At a table with a couple of empty chairs in front of her, Delilah is sitting behind a small stack of coins, glittering gold and silver. The young sorceress is busy shuffling and toying with a deck of cards, having left two other people destitute and an elf walking off into the night, muttering something about humans and silly games as if he didn't sit down to play of his own volution.

"Okay seriously," Donna mutters to her sister, peering inside her mostly-cleaned -- enough accumulated stains forms a protective barrier from further dirt, apparently -- tankard. "We could be fucking *anywhere* in Alexandria after this last job. And you wanted to come here... why?"

"That's why." Delilah points at the stack of coins in front of her, which is... more than she started with. "Sometimes, a disreputable bar is a great place to go win at cards, and make a little extra so we can, y'know, go ahead and blow it on something silly and ridiculous, like what Mom would *never* approve of." She leans back in her seat, "Also, hopefully certain... individuals, won't be caught dead in a place like this. Just saying."

"On the other hand," Donna says, notting at the bored-but-determined puncher in the corner. "I mean sure okay cards, but damn, D. There's disreputable, and then there's the Ox. I'm'a have to go out and drink from the gutter just to get the taste of this beer out my mouth."

"Nope, thought of that too." Delilah reaches into her pack, sitting nestled beside her foot, and fumbles about inside it before producing a short bottle of wine -- the kind you'd buy for yourself, or for two if you're both lightweights -- and plops it down on the table. "Rune Hills Special Reserve. Alverson ordered me a bottle two months ago." She grins, "Just on't tell the wench where you got it."

The fight in the corner finally ends with both combatants unconscious; one from alcohol consumption, the other from, well, cranial trauma. He'll be alright in the morning? Maybe? Another fight almost flares up when a half-orc goes flying across a table, but miraculously no drinks are spilled so it all just ends in laughter. ...Oh, and the door opens, and Norrington walks in, planting hands on hips and gazing about the bar's interior.

"....Okay consider my complaints mostly withdrawn," Donna says, chucking the rest of the contents of her tankard under the table, and furtively refilling the tankard from half the bottle. Once done, she hides the rest of the bottle under her own pack, takes a sip, and sighs in relief.

Relief that lasts only as long as it takes her to see who just walked in the door. "Oh for fu-- D tell me you cashed out and we're done with cards for tonight."

Is she keeping her face down like she doesn't want to be noticed? WHY EVER FOR?

As luck would have it, Delilah was sitting with her back to the door, so she hasn't seen... who's just walked in, and is heading for the bar. Three other guards walk in after Norrington, but it looks like they're all off duty; it wouldn't matter if they were here with search warrants, really, nothing much would change in this place.

Delilah hunhs? "Well, I could cash out," she offers, "I was going to wait and see if anyone else came along, but I could--" She was actually in the act of scooping up coins, when a goblin and a bugbear of all creatures abruptly sit down, empty a couple small bags of coins onto the table, and one of them demands that someone deal. At which, Delilah just perks an eyebrow upwards.

"Of ffffffffffucking course," Donna breathes, and just leans back on two chair legs, thumping a heel onto the table. "Table rules; you got a problem, you don't start a fight. You don't want me finishing it. I don't play. You accuse my sister o' using me to cheat, an' if I'm feelin' nice I *might* give you back your bet before I put you through the wall."

Throughout the whole spiel, she has one eye on Norrington and his fellow Guard. Off-duty is nice and all, but grudges are grudges, and booze and grudges make for certain trouble. "You boys get me?"

Delilah glances sideways at Donna, before she flips the cards face up, and fans them out on the table so both players can see that it's a full deck, with no missing cards or anything. She lets it set there for a moment, and squints at the two boys. "No funny business either," she adds, "You accuse me of keeping a jester or a crown up my sleeve, and my sister won't need to put you through a wall, I'll turn you into a frog." She can't do that, actually, but they don't know that. "Buy in is thirty gold," she adds, smiling sweetly and leaving that amount on the table. "I'm dealing, so you're big blin--"

"Deal me in." ...And there's Norrington, taking a seat between the other two boys, and plopping down his own stack of coins; gold and silver, totalling up to thirty gold.

"Fuck our life," Donna moans, taking another sip from her tankard and bobbing her toes in Norrington's direction. "Table rules go for you too, buddy boy. You lose, you lost fair. You win, you won fair. Be a grown-ass adult about your cards."

Delilah's eye twitches, before she scoops the cards up off the table and begins shuffling them. One of Norrington's friends comes to stand behind him holding a flaggon on ale, where he can make the bugbear feel uncomfortable; particularly so when a second guard comes and stands in much the same spot. "Oh, I wouldn't have it any other way," the off-duty Knight Captain replies, holding up a hand and having a tankard of his own placed in it, as the third of his friends arrives. "Honestly, Donna, you worry too much. It must be why you scowl all the time. Lighten up, yes? We're all just here to have fun."

Delilah, meanwhile, is busy providing two cards to each player. "He's small blind, you're big blind," she instructs, pointing at the goblin and then Norrington. "Four silver and eight. Pony up, boys." Once the middle of the table glitters with lucre, she lays out the flop.

"I'm sitting across the table from the asshole who tried to keep my sister in the clink *way* past her due date just because he couldn't imagine how she'd pay money for a thing," Donna notes, dropping her other foot on top of her ankle. "And the asshole who decided to bring in more assholes for muscle. I'd say I'm *just* the right amount of worried."

Raising her hand until the waitress returns, she gestures to the goblin and the bugbear. "Drink for each of'm on me," she says. "By way of apology."

Delilah has a look at her cards; they're good, but not great, so she folds after the turn. Norrington stays in of course, and takes the pot. Then it's the Goblin's turn to deal, and the table falls into an uneasy rhythm of passing cards and coins around the table.

"One thing you'd know if you were a guard," Norrington explains, adopting an air of great patience, "Is that rules are flexible when you're dealing with people who outright break them." He shrugs, collecting another pot, which puts him up rather substantially; Delilah is into her usual cycle of just letting money flow in and out of her posession, like she's totally unconcerned about where it goes.

"I didn't break any rules," Delilah grumbles. "Now is this going to be a game like before? I mean... should I loosen off my corset a bit at the top?"

And that definitely gets the bugbear's attention, but Norrington just laughs.

"Nah," Donna says, peering at the bugbear and lifting one eyebrow. "Let's let him lose like a bitch fair and square."

"What?" asks the bugbear, "A man can't have a look at summin' nice?" He shakes his head and goes to look at the cards Norrington just dealt to him. Delilah does likewise; two garbage cards, and she folds immediately.

"No no, go ahead and look," Norrington insists, giving the bugbear a good clap on the back. "She likes to claim that people lose because they're staring at 'em, let her live out her fantasy." he chuckles, looking at his cards and rising the bet. "Donna, Donna, Donna. Ever the scrapper. Calm down, yes? We might be off duty but we *can* still arrest you for disorderly conduct if you start a bar fight. We wouldn't want you to leave your sister all alone for the night again, would we?" He grins at the black haired twin, "I'm curious, though. It's always Delilah doing the gambling, why are you always sitting there, sidelined?"

"Cards ain't my thing," Donna says, returning the grin with extra teeth. "Ain't got the patience for shitstains who won't believe I'm bein' honest. Rather bounce the table than play it, since *some* people could just be waiting for *my sister* to be by her lonesome an' start some trouble."

"I never sideline my sister." Delilah scoops up a large pot; well, large-ish, and it's enough that the Goblin takes what he has left and cashes out gracefully, heading to the bar for a drink. For her part, the sorceress just takes her turn to deal, giving her cards a quick glance afterwards. "I picked the bar tonight 'cause I wanted to gamble here. Tomorrow night, Donna will pick whatever tavern or inn suits her fancy for whatever reason makes sense to her at the time. ...Unless we take that job to go clear out that infested cave..." She glances sideways at Donna, "Should we go clear out the cave? I mean it pays well but it's probably icky in there."

Norrington smirks, and shakes his head. "I'm willing to bet your relationship isn't quite as rosy as you make it out to be." He glances at his cards, and promptly bets, leading the bugbear to fold. "Come on, Donna. Is it really so equal as your darling sister makes it out to be? She probably doesn't even notice when she's being unfair to you."

"Can't be worse than the sewer, I'd go for it if you wanna," Donna says, lifting a shoulder.

She's already taking a sip from her wine when Norrington speaks again, and first she chokes, sputtering, and nearly pitches over backwards with howls of whooping laughter when her airway is clear. "Norrington you incredible motherfucker, are you *seriously* trying to wedge us? Kor's balls, just lose already and take your judgmental ass out of our table, you ain't got shit that would make dumping my *fucking twin sister* wirth it."

Delilah lets that one slide uncommented on by her; Donna's sorted it out already, of course. "Well, it might be an icky cave," she muses, "But it might also be full of treasure. Or just polished rocks. ...Yeah, let's go look, what's the worst that could happen?"

Around this time, the bugbear decides that with only one gold coin left in front of him, the thing to do is take one last, long look at the twins, sigh out loud, then pick up his gold and go in search of food and drink.

This, of course, just leaves the twins, Norrington, and a trio of guards who are all whispering and snickering to each other. "Oh, I don't need to drive any wedges," Norrington replies. "But it's hard to see how you two work together, honestly, aside from being twins you don't seem to have anything in common."

"Work together better than your flock of gossipy hens," Donna retorts, sipping her wine.

"Worst that could happen is it *ain't* better than the sewer job," she notes to Delilah. "Wild otyughs with plague, like."

Delilah ughs softly, as she deals out cards; with only two players left, only one blind gets thrown in to start a pot now, and she falls into a steady rhythm of trading money back and forth with the last remaining guy at the table. "Otyughs," she grumbles, "I'd rather not, could we just fight a death cult or skeletons or something? So much less... gross."

Norrington, mercifully, seems to give it up for a few hands; and that leads the game to its logical conclusion.

"All in," states Norrington.

"Call," replies Delilah, pushing all of her coins into the middle -- over a hundred gold coins sitting there, ripe for the taking.

Delilah flips the corners of her cards up for another look, and lets Donna see, too; and then she perks an eyebrow upwards at her opponent.

"Well, Norrington," she drawls, "Let's see what you've got there."

Donna tilts her head to peek at the cards, and lowers her chair just a bit; enough that if there's trouble, letting go of the table drops her forward rather than back, and keeps herself to herself, finishing the wine in her tankard.

Norrington flips his cards. "Full court," he replies, smirking. "Queens full of jacks."

Delilah nods, turning the corners of her lips downwards and looking duely impressed. "Full court," she answers, flipping over her cards. "Kings full of jacks." She reaches out to scoop all of the money up in one armful, pulling in towards her. "Hey, wait a minute," she declares, glaring down at her cards, "How is it all this time, the boy cards are more valuable than the girl cards? That's some serious nonsense. Don't you think that's nonsense?" she asks of Donna. "I think that's nonsense."

While Delilah is busy building her winnings into orderly piles, Norrington's friends have all gone quiet; the Knight Captain, for his part, is totally unreadable, with his elbows on the table and his hands steepled in front of him, thumbs under his chin. "Good hand," he muses. "And no, that's never struck me as odd."

"I think that's nonsense," Donna agrees genially, slowly lowering herself back down to the floor. "But I guess it depends on th'man. Some're *clearly* worth more than others," she says, leaving no doubt in her voice how she rates *this* particular quartet.

Delilah is busy counting up coins, and while Norrington and his cronies are watching, makes a point of sliding sixty gold worth of them in Donna's direction. "Thanks for playing, come again any time," she offers. "Except tomorrow night. We'll be in a cave, which hopefully will be full of gold and rubies and unicorns."

Norrington shakes his head, "Go have fun, boys," he instructs. "There's plenty of elligable wenches in here, go make three of 'em happy for the night." As his men disperse, he continues to observe the twins, looking, if anything, deeply contemplative. "Well, it's been quite enlightening watching the two of you together when you're not under arrest," he muses. "I'm sure that will be helpful later. Thank you for that."

"You are, of course," Donna says, tossing off a 'salute' by way of touching her middle finger to her brow, "welcome. Was instructive, watching you try not to act like a two-penny jackass. It doesn't suit." The sixty coins are swiftly stacked, and clinked in her hands, eyes never leaving Norrington.

Norrington rises from his eat, and smiles pleasantly. "Girls," he replies, "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, sooner or later. Try to behave, hmm?" He nods, and turns to wander off, back into the crowd.

Delilah deflates a little in her chair, and knocks over a couple piles of coins in front of her. "Well, that was a game of cards," she mumbles. "Did I make a mistake? Beating him? I *could* have just let him win." "Nah, you done good," Donna mutters, taking her feet off the table and stashing her 'share' in a pocket inside her boot. "We let him win, it just tells him we're afraid of him, and ain't nothing'd make him forget that."

Frowning, she nudges her sister's shoulder. "Hey. Maybe we couldn't thrash him, but he's out, what, a hundred gold now? That ain't nothin'."

"Well, thirty." Delilah shrugs her shoulders lightly, "I mean, if I hadn't beaten him he'd've walked out of here with just shy a hundred and twenty that we're taking." She sets to piling back up what she knocked over, and then shuffling it away into a purse she can tuck away under her skirt.

"Donna... if I *ever* 'sidelined' you, you'd tell me, right?" She looks up at her sister, with that look she has when she's suddenly desperate for sisterly approval. "Because I'd *never* do that."

Donna doesn't say a word at first, just knocks Delilah's hat off and ruffles her hair. "We ain't ever goin' back to how it was before," she says quietly. "I got a problem, I ain't ever gonna sit on it. We sort our shit now."

Delilah lets her hat land on the table, and after a moment stands up and embraces her sister -- maybe a little awkward in the middle of the rowdiest bar in town, but since a three-way bar brawl seems to have started up, odds are nobody is noticing. "I know," she replies, just loudly enough for Donna to hear. "And I know I can't help Mom, just... hearing stuff like that makes me worry about everything I've ever said, yeah? There's nothing more important to me than my sister."

Donna snorts, looping her arms around Delilah's shoulders and squeezing. "I get it, yeah. But Mom's why I meant it when I said he ain't got shit that'd make me dump you. Mebbe we'll have problems, but... I ain't ever gonna forget back then. I'm'a look out for you, no matter what, and that's fact. Callin' it a promise'd be watering it down, 's just fact."

Delilah bobs her head once, and squeezes her arms tight around Donna's back. "Likewise," she replies. "Honestly... you ever feel like Norrington showed up becasue we're supposed to be tormented by someone?" She sighs softly, and shakes her head. "And I know I'm clueless half the time, but I'm gonna look out for you too, no matter what."

"Man I ain't ever gonna figure Norrington out," Donna sighs. "Unno what his problem is, just know he needs to fuck all the way off."

At her sister's promise, Donna echoes the squeeze, nodding. I know you are. An' I'm happy knowin it."