Ave Brisinger holds her cards close to her face, a mistrustful look flitting around every now and then, and with good conscious. Jack makes well to keep watch from the corner of his eye as well; watches like a professional thief. He watches as she takes a small black stone from the pile and watches as she places it in her green felt square. She then has the misfortune to slide her train of sight up to meet his. A smile for a frown.

“Cheating’s the dead man’s way to win, Ave.” He tsks, tipping his chair back to prop his feet on the table. “Don’t be so cheap with us.” Color springs to her cheeks along with a cumulating sneer.

“I’m no cheat you dog.” He shrugs, amused, and leans over to grab a pipe from the middle of the table. He blows a thick plume of herbal smelling smoke into her face, smiling around the handle in spite of himself. She blinks through the haze with a stony expression.

“Jesus Christ Jack, anyone can see the bulge of our stuff in your pants. Don’t try and divert our attention.” Chess sighs and rubs at her eyebrows as if this is something that occurs so often it’s not even worth getting worked up over. His grin widens.

“Me? I’m cheating? Really?” He pats at his pockets, pauses, has the audacity to look surprised, and then procures an odd line of junkyard articles; a rusted spoon, half a locket, a broken monocle, a clay rose, and two pennies. “Oh dear, it seems as if someone’s framed me.” Chess snorts.

“I don’t even know why I bother playing with you anymore. All you do is cheat anyways.” She downs the rest of her beer in two swift gulps and wipes hastily at her mouth with the back of her hand. Sophie can see the blooming color in her face; a few more drinks should do the trick. Despite her gradual slurs, Chess seems comfortable drunk. She’s not overly clumsy or violent. More relaxed.

“What’re you playing?” Sophie asks slowly, feeling uncomfortable with all the stares turned her way. So many new faces to know, to fear. Some nicer than others. She’s found herself oddly drawn to a tall boy—well, no, a man—with bulging muscles, short cropped hair, and a scruff around his square jaw. He looks every part the brawny hit man, but Sophie can see something different in him, a kindness that’s seems so foreign under the circumstances. She remembers him as Lee Stokkes.

“Devil’s poker.” Lee speaks up, grinning down at her. “Wanna play?”

She bites her lip, “I don’t…know how to play.”

“Shit, it’s easy. I’ll teach you. C’mere” He scoots over on his small stool, patting at the tiny patch of wood for her. She eyes him wearily before creaking up like an old spring, hesitating. There’s a pregnant pause before Lee all but pulls her onto his lap, prompting a blush and a wolfish grin on his part.

“I think right here’s just fine.” He pats her thigh fondly and Sophie can only nod like a wooden doll.

“Yeah…”

He laughs again, “Ok, you know how to play real poker?” She nods stiffly, while at the same time, attempting to recall any knowledge of the game at all. “Well, it’s okay. I’ll refresh you. Basically, you want to end up with the highest hand at the table. There are ten different hands you can get, but the top three most valuable are the royal flush, straight flush, and four of a kind.”

She stops him, brows furrowed in concentration. “Ok, wait. What’s in the um…the royal thing, and-”

“The royal flush?”

“Uh, yeah. That. And the other flush thing. The straight one. And then the four of a kind, right?”

Lee nods, “Right, ok. Well, the royal flush has a ten, a jack, a queen, a king, and an ace in the same club.” He pauses, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “You know what clubs are right?” When she treats him to a look he quickly moves on. “Good. Well, then we have the straight flush, and that’s when you have five cards in numerical order, all in the same club. Then there’s the four of a kind, and that’s when you have four cards of one number, like say, four sixes, and then one random number. It doesn’t matter what club they’re in though…” Lee gives it a few moments for her to take it all in. He watches the process unfold in stages and, when her brow clears of all confusion, he continues.

“See, not that hard right?”

“I think…I think I just forgot it all.” She sighs eventually and makes a move to climb off his lap but he tightens his arms around her midsection.

“No, no. It’s fine. We’ll just be partners and you can watch what I’m doing.”

Another traitorous blush surfaces, but Sophie manages a clipped, “ok,” while at the same time wondering how the world can be so cruel and yet so good at the same time. Lee doesn’t make any move to remove his arm from around her and she doesn’t make any protests. If that’s how things are going to be, than that’s how things are going to be.

Who’s she to stop fate right?

The game continues on, and Sophie honestly can’t for the life of her distinguish the difference between ‘Devil’s’ poker and regular poker. They both seem to be pretty much the same thing. Boring and long. Lee will occasionally ask her opinion on their set, but she’s only capable of nondescript, and therefore unhelpful, shrugs. She thinks they might be in the lead, but hell, it’d be a damn lie if she said she wasn’t a little biased.

Attractive men can do that to you.

It’s only when Lee draws a peculiar looking card with two thorn encrusted crosses that any interest sparks. Sophie sits up a little straighter. “What’s that?” She whispers. Lee shrugs.

“It’s a rune card I suppose. I’ve never seen this one.”

“What’s a rune card?”

The front legs of Jack’s chair slam down.“Was wondering when somebody was gonna get one of those little buggers. Just not as fun without them, you know?”

“Yes. But. What are they?” She repeats.

“Do you know why this is called Devil’s poker?” He wonders, and…how does he make his eyes burn like that? She hardens her gaze.

“Obviously not.”

“Hm. Hold up your card Liam.” Jack’s the only one who calls him by his full name, and if it bothers him much, than Lee doesn’t say anything about it. He simply holds up the card for the whole table to see. It’s a pretty anticlimactic event. There’s no portal or hail of devils from the underworld.

Ave simply plucks it from between his fingers and sets it in the middle of her felt square.

“Ave’s the only one who can read runes.” Lee whispers just behind her ear, startling her. They both wait with baited breath—no one seems to breathe—as Ave’s focus blurs at the edges, her concentration moving to a different plane invisible to every occupant but herself. Sophie finds it altogether unsettling, but the reminder of Lee’s solid body just behind her is enough to placate the nerves.

After what feels like a century and a day, Ave swims back into the present of the living with little more than a straight laced crook of the mouth. What this means—good, bad, in between—it’s hard to tell.

“Nothing too dodgy.” She finally says. Lee breaks out with a grin and everyone seems to simultaneously relax. What an event.

“What’s next?” Sophie whispers. He simply shrugs and tells her to watch, and the both of them turn just in time to see Ave performing a series of complicated hand gestures over the card. It looks very Hocus Pocus, but she bites her cheek. Who’s she to question the validity of anything these days?

“Hair. I need a strand of someone’s hair…” Ave suddenly demands.

“Ow!” Jack unexpectedly reaches over to pluck a strand of Sophie’s, handing it to her.

“Here.” She simply nods in silent thanks before moving onto the next item.

“An eyelash of the fair. Someone with blonde hair, eyelash.” All eyes rove to Lee and he medically extracts the needed article with precise silence. Sophie can barely make out the fair arch of it pinched between his fingers, and for a moment she wonders if he’s gotten one at all, but Ave plucks it from him with ease and a muttered thanks.

“Finally, a shoelace.” Chess is quick to undo her boot, adding the item herself to the odd pile. They observe for a collective moment before Ave suddenly whips out a small cutting blade, slicing just a small niche of Lee’s wrist. She flecks the blood droplets onto the pile with practiced aim, “for consecration” she says, and then the waiting begins.

For what she’s not sure.

A breath, and then another breath passes, and just when Sophie’s sure that nothing’s going to happen at all a cylinder of fire jumps to life, born from just mere animate objects. It’s all so fascinating that she barely even notices when Lee reaches over to submerge his hand in the embers. Her heart nearly leaps out of her mouth.

“What are you doing?!” Lee’s face scrunches up in concentration as he sends her a fleeting look. It’s easy enough to translate; be quiet. She forces herself to sit back and watch with morbid fascination as his large hand disappears behind the curtain of flames. He hisses, so she thinks that it must hurt, but when he pulls his hand back there’re no tangible marks of damage. As if nothing had happened.

Instead there’s only a single card clutched desperately to the palm of his hand, something that he tucks away like a safe keep. The game continues as if nothing had happened at all. The ashes from the fire are scraped off, new cards are dealt, and this is all very confusing until Jack draws a red queen.

“Oh?” His eyebrows rise at Lee. “Looks ‘sif we’ve found the sister. Got a red queen there perchance Liam?”

Lee holds up his card—a red queen—with a stoic face. No one’s surprised.

“What’s that mean?” Sophie leans over to Ave, who seems to be the most informed. She smiles.

“This is called the Devil’s hand, and it can only occur when a player at the table selects a rune card. There are twelve in each deck. The sister card—that’s Jack’s card—chooses another player depending on the circumstances.” Sophie stops her.

“Chooses?”

“Yes. Chooses. An identical rune to that of the first card will appear on the selected sister card, signaling to the player that they’ve been selected.” Something seems amiss…

“Selected for what?”

“A combat duel.” The sound of drawing weaponry captures their attention, and it’s all Sophie can do to look away. Action movies could never have prepared her for this.

Lee’s standing tall with a sleek looking gun—it looks like a gun at least—strapped over his shoulder. The belly’s made of a material similar to Plexiglas with yellow powder filling its contents. It’s very industrial and very lethal looking.

In comparison, Jack’s got a switchblade and a smile out. A stab of irrational fear twists her stomach for him before she’s forced to realize who exactly this is—Jack Rabbit. If anyone’s equipped for survival, it’s Jack.

“Good man, Liam.” He says, appraising the gun. If he’s in any way nervous, than Jack’s certainly good at hiding it. Lee simply nods and tells him to get on with the program. They do, swiftly, and Sophie has a hard time keeping up.

“On the count of three. Unus, duo, tres.”

Everything progresses in a blur, on the recount, but in the heat of the moment, in the present, Sophie feels as if someone’s hit slow motion. Lee’s hand pulls a trigger and a throbbing boom soon follows. Jack ducks behind the chair, nearly missing himself a bullet to the neck. He’s quick to move—neither of them seems to hesitate for less than a beat. Lee follows, slipping into the role of aggressor. He shoots another shot that misses but he’s not done yet. It's a matter of swift seconds before he's procured a short blade from a holster around his ankle.

Jack easily deflects the knife with his own; it’s hard to tell who has the upper hand. Neither's progressing, but neither's losing either. Lee seems to remember that he has a gun then and takes advantage of their close proximity. He unexpectedly pushes Jack into the corner of the room, using his sheer muscle power to pin him there. Neither of them is short of strength, but Lee’s inhuman. Perhaps literally.

Jack struggles to dislodge his arm from between them, but Lee quickly reaches down with his free hand to stop his struggling and, with the other, he brings the gun to his head.

They both stand there, breathing heavy, until Lee eventually whispers, “Bang, bang.”

Jack swallows and Sophie thinks that he’s genuinely given up before just the ghost, just a small hint, of a smirk flashes across his face. It’s gone a moment later and she begins to wonder if it ever happened at all.

“What the-!” Lee unexpectedly leaps backwards, his eyes frenzied. Clutched between Jack’s lips is a long hand dagger pointed in his direction. From where, Sophie can’t figure. Both of his hands had been pinned to his sides…

“Losing’s for the weak and quitting’s only fit for the dead. God bless I'm neither...” He slides the blade from between his lips, admiring himself in its reflective surface—or perhaps surveying the situation—before starting forward like a hawk. His muscles move in such a pattern that suggests great stealth, and seeing how Lee’s now the one pressed into a corner, Sophie guesses that her assumption’s not far from the mark.

“How did you…?” Lee shakes his head, having forgotten about the limp gun around his waist. Jack takes full advantage of the pause in action, and quickly knocks the weapon away from him. Yellow powder and ammunition scatter across the floor, but neither takes much notice. Now it’s only knife against knife, but Jack’s hand dagger is significantly more equipped for lethality than Lee’s small hunting knife.

The gun had been his element and, without it, he’s little more than a fish out of water.

With less than a foot separating them, Jack can trace every line in Lee’s face with his eyes. He does. He observes everything tangible and unseen, filing it away for later. Losing’s not an option. It’s never an option, even when playing poker.

He smiles.“You played well.”

Lee doesn’t look surprised. “You and your speeches. You know, they're going to get you into trouble one day when someone actually takes advantage of your victory laps. I'm just sorry I'm not the one to stab you in the back."

“For another day then, yeah? ”

He ignores Jack, moving on as if he hadn't spoken. “I’ve got to admit, hiding that dagger in your shirt collar was impressive. It took me off guard.”

“I’m always impressive Liam.” He slaps Lee’s cheek gently, “but thanks for the...credit-”

Jack's hand springs back and then forward like a viper on credit, and Sophie barely even catches the motion, but then the dagger winks in the dim light and she knows just what’s happening. She only hears the noise of a dull thud—maybe she’s fainted—and the loud ringing in her ears. Wait, what’s happening? Is this normal?

Why is he—oh God. Sophie doesn’t know if she thinks this or says it aloud, because the only sure thing in her life is that it’s happening. Has happened.

She says the first thing that springs to her mind, “Ave Brisinger!”

It’s not until afterwards, when the dust has settled, that she realizes this is simply the beginning of the end.

--

“You did well, Sophie, really. It’s only going to take a little longer—no, no, not that way. Stay behind me alright?”

“Ok.”

“Why do you sound so scared? I told you I wouldn’t let anything happened to you didn’t I?”

“Well…I…yeah. You did. I know.”

“Good, then straighten up hon. Walk with confidence. You ever heard of that?”

“…”

“You better be nodding. Jack’s gotta think you’re strong sweetie or this’ll never work you know?”

“I know.”

“Good. I’m about to take your hand Sophie, when I stop, you stop. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, sorry. I mean yes.”

“Yeah alright…let’s not forget who’s helping you out now…”

“No, I know. Sorry. I just…I’m just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. These people are easy to maneuver around.”

“…”

“Stop Sophie—good. Now, the first person you’re about to meet is a woman named Ave Brisinger. Don’t forget her name, understand?”

“Yes.”

“She’s going to help you later on, and you’re going to need to ask for her. The second person you’re going to meet is a large man named Lee Stokkes. Don’t, and I repeat, don’t, tell him your name alright?”

“How come?”

“Ugh. Didn’t I tell you not to ask so many questions? Just don’t. Promise me, promise me you won’t tell him your name Sophie?”

“I…I promise.”

“Good girl. Those are the only names you need to know for now. Keep them to yourself and only use them once they’ve introduced themselves to you personally. Otherwise refer to them as ma’am or sir. Stay close and try and to look traumatized.”

“That won’t be too hard…”

“Hah! Do we look traumatized Sophie?”

“Yes, we look traumatized.”

“Good, because we're goin' in sugarpop…”

AN: I'm sorry if that was confusing. It seems these past two chapters have just been plot, plot, plot. Hopefully the next one will be a little lighter and filler-y so it can explain some things. Well, anways. I really like Lee, but maybe that's just because I based him off of this hot guy at my school...Right. Well. Thank God I can be creepy without his knowledge or this situation would have to involve a lot of illegal maneuvers. So, review and all that shebangbang, because I really like reviews. A lot. Did I mention they're desirable? Good, just wondering.

REVIEW :3