Solo Cold Streak

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role play forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Cold Streak

Postby Calla Davin on August 26th, 2019, 6:08 am

Image
71st of Summer, 519 AV


The world outside Calla's apartment was growing dark. Lanterns and candles were appearing in windows all around, illuminating apartments that had been cold and lonely all day. Calla leaned out the window, letting an arm hang over the people passing by below. A cool breeze came off the sea and caught in her white peasant shirt. The woman took the breeze into her lungs and then slowly exhaled. It was time.

Her short, leather boots were already on. They had been on for a while. Tonight was the night that Calla was going out for a drink--her first drink ever--with her mother. She wasn't exactly nervous, but she wasn't excited either. It felt like a date that she had been set up on: she vaguely knew the person she would be drinking with, and she had no idea how she was supposed to act.

Calla scooped up her leather bag and slung it over her left shoulder. It had her flask, eating knife, and some mizas in it. It wasn't much. In fact, Calla wasn't even sure she needed a bag. But the woman hated having things in her hands and she never knew where the night would lead, so she figured she might as well bring it along. She ducked out of her apartment, locked the door, and scurried out onto the street.

Plenty of people were already out, which simultaneously annoyed Calla and gave her hope. The sound of people buzzing about always made her feel important, like she was apart of something larger. Something compelled all these people to leave their homes tonight, and Calla was no different.

Her and her mother agreed to meet at the Kelp Bar. Not because her mother liked it there or because it had a nice atmosphere, but because it was, as Renia put it, "part of Calla's world." The theme of the night was, apparently, reintroducing themselves to each other. Calla was all for that, but it made her suspicious. A small part of her wondered if her mother was dying.

Pushing those thoughts out of her head as she made it to the bar, Calla stepped inside and looked around for Renia. There was table after table of sailors, but no Renia. Calla frowned, almost certain that she'd be the late one. Briefly, the courier contemplated finding a pair of seats and reserving them. But the bar was hot and crowded, and she knew her mother would be nervous coming into a place like this. After all, drinking wasn't her mother's preferred form of debauchery.

Calla slunk back outside, hovering by the door as she waited for her mother. Nearby, a group of men roared in triumph. It caught Calla's attention. She looked over, noting that a few of the men were standing and arguing. Sailors, by the look of them. Maybe twenty were congregated around this crate, discussing or arguing about whatever was on it. After a few chimes, they settled down back into their seats or leaning positions. This newfound calm opened up the space, allowing Calla to notice something.

"Mom?"
User avatar
Calla Davin
Retired Staff
 
Posts: 128
Words: 102738
Joined roleplay: June 25th, 2019, 7:44 am
Location: Zeltiva
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Thread (1)

Cold Streak

Postby Calla Davin on September 3rd, 2019, 5:49 pm

Renia sat on the farthest side of the crate, daintily balancing herself on a barrel. Her body leaned forward, looking at whatever was on the crate with intense focus and joy. She looked like she was having the time of her life. When Calla called out to her, Renia jumped up and waved.

"Calla!" She called back, her voice a hair above her normal speaking voice. "Calla, come here! Look!" Calla bit. The courier tightened her shoulder bag to her side as she approached. When she arrived, she scanned the group of people's faces. She noted that they were all gruff looking, maybe more so than the typical sailor. They were mostly men, and all unclean. As the men gazed up at her, they smiled with whatever teeth they had left. Calla nodded to the group as she slinked around to her mother. Then she looked at the table.

Immediately, she grabbed her mother's shoulder. "What are you doing?" She pulled herself in close to Renia's ear, hissing under her breath. She should have known. She had only looked for a tick, but she had a good idea of what she was looking at. Piles of mizas, hungry onlookers, cheering, arguing...this had something to do with gambling.

"I was waiting for you, and--" Renia turned her face as much as she could to face her daughter. Their faces were almost touching as Calla grumbled back her response.

"And what? You figured you'd lose all your money for fun? Again?" At this point, the "table" was all looking at them. They muttered among themselves, a few of them looking brave enough to interfere.

"What's goin on 'ere?" A burly man next to them leaned back, nodding to the pair. He placed his large mitts on his knees as he stared Calla down.

"Same question to you." Calla stood up straight, trying milk every inch of her five-foot-one stature. "What the petch are you doin here with her?"

"Playin' a game." Was all the man replied. Renia pulled at Calla, but Calla was too busy losing a staring contest with the world's largest card shark.

"Oh, yeah? What?" Calla planted both hands on her hips. "Who can steal the lady's money the fastest?"

"We're 'avin' fun. Seems you could use summa that." A small laugh reverberated through the crowd, causing Calla to squint her eyes in suspicion. Her mouth pursed. No way is this piece of shyke gettin' my money too. Calla was about to tell him so when her mother stood, forcing her face in front of Calla's.

"Calla, they have cards. Look!" Renia stepped over so Calla could see the crate. There were, in fact, cards. Calla had only seen a deck once before, and she was pretty sufficiently drunk at the time. The deck sat face down in front of the burly man. Renia saw that she had her attention, so she went full-force on the pleading. "Come on, we have to play! I've never seen a deck before!"

Now, Calla knew her mother well enough to know that she was very familiar with how the inside of a gambling house looked. Even though cards were rare, gambling houses always had at least a few; Renia had most definitely seen a deck of cards before. Before Calla could contradict her, Renia squeezed Calla's hand--hard.

Calla flinched, yanking her hand away. "Ow, shyke!" She tenderly rubbed her left hand. "Fine, we can play one round or game or whatever. One." The men at the "table" cheered, though Calla distinctly heard someone say "petchin' finally."
User avatar
Calla Davin
Retired Staff
 
Posts: 128
Words: 102738
Joined roleplay: June 25th, 2019, 7:44 am
Location: Zeltiva
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Thread (1)

Cold Streak

Postby Calla Davin on September 3rd, 2019, 7:12 pm

Renia sat back down on her barrel, offering half of it to Calla. Calla waved a "no thank you" and popped a squat next to the crate instead. Upon closer inspection of the "table," Calla noticed that there wasn't only mizas piled on the table. There were other odds and ends as well. Trinkets, foreign money, ration chips. Anything and everything. Calla raised an eyebrow.

"Y'all tryna lose your ration chips?" Calla joked, and received a few chuckles back for her efforts.

"To you?" Another man at the table replied in faux-shock. "Ha! I wanna live to see that day!" Other men around him chuckle and gave the original man shoves of approval and encouraging slaps on the back.

Calla rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder at her mother. "What're we playin?" Renia looked down at her daughter, but Calla also saw her make a point of looking back up to see who was listening before she responded. She shrugged, then in a louder-than-usual voice she said: "I dunno!"

The men around them laughed, but not Calla. She continued to look up at her mother. Her mother didn't say "dunno." It was always "don't know." Renia was a woman as principles, as she would repeatedly remind Calla when chastising her for drinking. Kol, being a sailor, would have said "dunno." Perhaps her mother was just trying to fit in with these men and her father was the only point of reference Renia had for that? Regardless, Calla wondered why Renia would even want to fit in here.

"Portraits." The burly man responded. "Everybody starts with two cards, and you're tryin' to beat me."

"Oh, right!" Renia butted in. "First to get to 20 without going over, right?" Around the table, men eyed each as if they were in on some secret code. Some smirked, most did not. Petch, I know she's trying, Calla thought. But she's bein really petchin' annoying. Embarrassment and shame flared up inside Calla. She knew she should've dragged her mother back to the bar. Or home.

"21, lady." Burly was trying to be patient--Calla could tell--but his annoyance was showing. "Alright, boys, rules for today: highs are 10, splitting's allowed, blind man's bet." There was a general murmur of approval, and then the game was underway. "Bet's out." Around the table, all of the men dropped their bets in front of them. Most everyone had about 5-10 silver mizas out in front of them. Calla looked to her mother. The courier refused to place her own money in the pile, and she hoped her unmoving position told her mother as much. Renia dropped 5 silver mizas in front of their cards. Then Burly nodded.

Burly dealt himself one card with the value side down. Then, everyone at the crate got one card with the value showing. In total, there were five people: Renia and Calla shared a hand, then four men squeezed around the crate to play their own hands. Burly was the sixth. He dealt out another card to everyone, with all of them showing values. "We go this way." Burly nodded to his right, signalling to a scrawny looking sailor. "Stab for another card, stand to pass."

The scrawny man had a card with a mountain range on it and a card with a 6. "Stand." As soon as the game began, the group fell silent so it was very easy to hear the others. The man next to Scrawny looked down with his one working eye--the other was covered by an eye patch. He held a 5 and a 4. "Stab." Burly handed Eye-patch another card: a 5. Eye-patch paused for a moment, deliberating.

"What're you waitin' for?" Calla impatiently grumbled, to which the whole table just silently glared at her. Calla raised her palms and mouthed "okay, okay." Talking, apparently, was not allowed. Maybe we should list that in the rules, then.

"Stab." Eye-patch finally said, causing a rumble through the crowd. Oh, now we can talk. Okay, cool. Complete shyke, but cool. Calla rolled her eyes quickly as she waited with the others for the next card. It was a 9. Everyone "oohed" as Burly flipped over all of Eye-Patch's cards. Eye-patch cussed as he pushed his mizas into the pile.

Next was an average looking sailor. So average, in fact, that Calla had to double-take to make sure he wasn't her father. Average had a 4 and a 3. "Stab." He immediately said, and was dealt another 3. "Stab." Average said again with no thought. He received a 6, to which he responded with a "Stand."

It was almost their turn! Calla felt the jitters. She wasn't sure if that was boredom or excitement, but she decided that, for now, she liked it. This was nice when your mizas weren't on the line. Calla looked at the hand belonging to the man next to them. One card covered the other, so all she could see was a 2. He leaned over, nudging his other card out from under the 2. As he did so, Calla noticed he was missing his thumb. As he stabbed, Calla tried to--as discreetly as possible--check his other hand for a thumb. He had five fingers there, so nine in total: a 2, 3, and 4. Calla came back to notice that, coincidentally, his card-hand also totaled to nine. She smirked as he stabbed again. He got a 7. "Stand."

And then it was Calla's (and Renia's) turn.

User avatar
Calla Davin
Retired Staff
 
Posts: 128
Words: 102738
Joined roleplay: June 25th, 2019, 7:44 am
Location: Zeltiva
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Thread (1)

Cold Streak

Postby Calla Davin on September 9th, 2019, 6:37 am

In front of the two women were two cards: an 8 and another 8. At a total of 16, Calla wasn't sure what to do. She figured that if she needed a 5 to get to 21, then she had an even chance of getting something higher than a 5 as she did a 5 or lower. It felt too risky. Then again, she wasn't sure what happened once they made a complete round. Did they get another turn? Did they just keep going until someone got a 21 or they all lost? Calla looked to Burly, remembering that he had one card hidden. Calla wondered why that was. Perhaps, since he had all the cards, it was meant to keep him from cheating?

"Stab." Renia interrupted Calla's thought process, gaining another card without consulting Calla. Calla whipped around. "What the petch?"

"What?" Since Calla was turned, Renia saw the card flip before Calla did. Renia frowned, but in a playful manner. "Shrimp baskets!" Calla whipped back around as Renia "cursed." The third card was a 9, which put the pair way over 21 and at 25. The courier turned and gave her mother a very deliberate frown. Before she could stand to leave, Burly spoke up.

"Okay, that's it." Burly flipped over his remaining card. Everyone at the table grumbled as Burly revealed two matching mountain ranges. "Alright, alright! Looks like the hand's mine. Movin' on." The group around them started to talk, so Calla took the opportunity to grill her mother.

"What is going on?" Calla looked directly into her mother's eyes, raising both her eyebrows as she did so. Renia shrugged, simply responding: "Your guess's as good as mine." And it was there again...Calla noticed how her mother had spoken louder than usual again.

"Everybody still good for buy in?" Scrawny spoke up above the ground just as Calla was going to say something. The woman quickly turned around.

"What is that?" Calla replied. "Cause I said just one game and we're out."

"We ain't done yet." Scrawny replied. "We each takin' turns dealin'. That way, everybody can get the easy job." Scrawny explained as he started to dole out the cards. "And it gives everybody a chance to win the most."

"You buy into the game." Average spoke up. Calla turned her head to the man as he explained the game. "Since we all have to deal, that means we all have to be able to pay everyone if we lose." Calla nodded. She half-understood...or at least she thought she did. She wasn't sure why they had to pay everyone, or anyone at all. Wasn't that what the mizas in the middle were for? She let it go, though, because it they weren't her mizas to win or lose.

"So you're saying," Calla weighed out every word. "That we have to wait here until--" With each word, Calla pointed to another person. "Every person does that?" Her final point landed on Scrawny and the cards in front of him.

"Sharp one, aintcha?" Scrawny replied flatly, provoking a laugh out of the crowd. Calla sneered back at the men before giving the same treatment to her mother. Her gaze could shoot daggers, but Renia appeared to be oblivious. She just sat there like a dumb lump on a dumb barrel.

"Let's get this over with." Calla huffed as slammed her hands on the cards and dragged them closer to her.

User avatar
Calla Davin
Retired Staff
 
Posts: 128
Words: 102738
Joined roleplay: June 25th, 2019, 7:44 am
Location: Zeltiva
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Thread (1)


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests