[Tall Johnny's Casino] Enemies at the Table [Open]

[Tevon Blackwell]

[ooc: You can find some lovely rules for card games here. I mean to be here a long while, so please, take a seat at the table.]

You were either very lucky or very stupid, if even the guards at the door to Tall Johnny’s Casino recognised you and stood aside.

Tevon Blackwell considered himself a little bit of neither.

He sauntered into the main room, as he’d done every night for the past five years, heading for his usual spot. Tall Johnny was making the rounds, but upon catching Tevon's eyes, he beamed wide. Tevon clasped Johnny’s hand as if greeting an old friend. Because he was an old friend. Well, as much of a friend as you could have in Sunberth. Meaning that Johnny might pause a moment before stabbing him in the back.

“The usual stammer and blush, Blackwell?” Johnny drawled, smoothing his moustache.

Tevon raised his hands, as in welcome. “Of course.”

He drew in a deep breath, drinking in the stale alcohol, the unwashed bodies, the smoke, the hint of old blood that escaped from the cage. This, then, was the playing field that he had chosen. A field where the only rules were the rules of the cards. Where skill was everything, and luck never lasted long.

His seat was left open, its chipped, battered surface welcoming as a throne. Tevon swept his fine cloak aside and his rapier out of the way, and sat down, clasping his hands before him. The table was situated in the very corner of the room, and from his position, Tevon could see everything that happened in the casino - though, between the dim lighting and the haze of smoke, it was difficult to see him. Here, men had bet and lost everything they’d had. Here, Tevon had made a living and a name for himself.

Here, Tevon meant to play cards. “Deal me in,” he said, and grinned.