Scurry the Prairie Elf

July 23, 2008 10:49 AM
Scurry rubbed his nose vigorously, trying to get a feeling of anything other than cold back. Everything outside was still blanketed in white and - nervously remembering the events of some years past - he had been checking regularly. But, for all the fierceness of the blizzard that had taken over the grounds, there was nothing particularly unusual about it. Certainly nothing like the rogue magic caused by the breakdown of the weather charms. It was just a blizzard. A fierce blizzard. And quite within the parametres of the winter charms. Apparently.

Scurry eyed the windows, still faintly suspicious, but resisted the urge to press his face against it again for a better look. His nose twinged with the returning warmth, reminding him that it didn't want to be frozen again. After a moment he gave it up as a bad job, and turned around, trotting back to the Cascade Hall that the other Elves had turned into something else entirely. The waterfalls had been charmed to be quite warm, partially as a precaution against the frozen problems during the last blizzard Sonora had experienced, but also because there was little better after nearly freezing than thawing out with your feet in one of the pools of warm water at the base of a fountain.

The Elves has commandeered the staff table and turned it into a stand rather like the one they had ran at last year's Christmas. A quite complicated setup of utensils and paraphernalia had been arranged and, using it, the Elves were turning out orders of some quite jolly looking hot cocoa. Scurry gave them a mildly disapproving look - not because of what they were doing, mind, but because of where. What would Master Paul Simon or one of the Professors say if they were to see the Elves using their table in such a manner? And where would they eat? Shaking his head and muttering quietly to himself he headed into the corner farthest away from the staff table, where something different had been set up and was starting to spread. Boardgames - both muggle and magical in origins - had been collected from the Muggle Studies room, common rooms, the staff room and who knew where else.

A Prairie Elf had charge of them too, and was carefully keeping watch to make sure none of the games came to too much harm as they were borrowed and returned to his corner. Scurry trotted over and sat down with him, examining the game on top of the pile with some interest. 'Trouble' was written on the box in bold letters. But what kind of trouble could a boardgame be, he wondered. Especially a muggle one. A magical one like 'Crumple-Horned Snorkacks' Revenge' was something else entirely. As 'Trouble' was taken, he had to hasten to put a hand on the top of the next box to stop the pieces from escaping and running amuk through the hall.
Subthreads:
39 Scurry the Prairie Elf White Out at Midterm 0 Scurry the Prairie Elf 1 5


Ian Grimm

July 23, 2008 1:59 PM
Ian pushed aside the large box, its sides decorated in alternating stripes of green and red, with a half-hearted kick from his heel. The letter had arrived, unjustifiably late, the morning of his planned departure. It had been brief, as was his father's secretary's style, and explained that there was a heretofore unmentioned family tradition of spending the first midterm away from home at school. Ian thought it a rather conveniently timed appearance for such a tradition. Wordlessly, he had returned to the Aladren dorm room and proceeded to think of at least five different ways he could cause his father undue annoyance.

It took a few days before Ian felt civil enough to consider socializing. Sonora was rather nice, when mostly emptied of its students. The sudden onslaught of a blizzard added to its charm. Having grown up in Massachusetts, he loved the snow. The way snow could inspire picturesque greeting card covers, but at the same time strike in an unforgiving fury; he liked the dichotomy. The blizzard was what finally convinced him to poke into some of the alluded to festivities that were occurring in the Cascade Hall.

He was not disappointed. He took his hot cocoa, topped with an overly indulgent pile of marshmallows, and then proceeded to rifle through the stacks of games until his hands lit upon the best discovery of the entire term: a deck of cards. A few more seconds of searching, and he came up with a bag of chips. He knew that gambling was not something encouraged at a school; the game could still be remarkably entertaining when the only winnings came from bragging rights.

With his mug still tucked in his grasp, he grabbed a nearby table, and began dividing the chips out in five equal stacks: one black, two blue, five red, and ten white. The playing cards felt soft and worn in his hands; plainly, they had been broken in before. He shuffled once, twice, and then the five requisite more times that statistics suggested provided a true 'shuffle.'

When the chair on his right was taken a few moments later, he looked up from his chips long enough to ask the most pertinent question at that time: "So, five card or hold'em?"
0 Ian Grimm Poker anyone? 110 Ian Grimm 0 5

Saul Pierce

July 25, 2008 11:36 AM
Saul was going stir-crazy. Okay, yes. He'd already been home and come back with Simon, but he was already starting to regret that decision. He'd forgotten how oppressive an empty room was and none of his friends seemed to be around for midterm. He was starving for social interaction with anyone besides his new pet mouse and Simon was in Vegas today.

He turned up in the Cascade Hall early, hoping to find somebody else around, and was delighted to find not just a whole crowd of elves and even some students, but hot chocolate and games! "Check this out, Roni!" he exclaimed excitedly to the mouse perched on his shoulder. It had taken three days and a lot of cheese to get the little guy used to just sitting there while Saul walked around.

He collected a mug of hot cocoa and offered some to his mouse, but Roni seemed uninterested, so Saul found him some milk, cheese, and crackers instead. Once they were both fed, Saul came over to the stack of games, but a familiar sound drew his attention before he could pick one out.

Cards. Shuffling. Once. Twice. Five times. Saul drew closer, drawn like a moth to a flame. He sat down at the table, a stack of chips in front of him. Saul's hand stroked the colored discs with easy familiarity, and when the other kid asked, "So, five card or hold'em?" Saul's answer was automatic.

"Five card."

Saul couldn't hold a note to save his life, but this family profession was one he had some skill with. He'd known since he was seven - when he was officially given up as musically cursed - that he'd either be a gambler or an actor when he grew up. Those were the options for a California Pierce: music, acting, and gambling. Well, those and politics. But politics was never a primary career and Saul had no interest in it anyway.

Saul's father did cards. Five card draw was his favorite. While Simon had taught him the ins and outs of acting, Saul's Dad had shown him the way around a deck of cards. Saul wouldn't be a roadie forever and when he grew up, he'd be expected to do more than just lug around instruments. Acting wasn't a sure-fire career - just look at Simon - so this is what Saul had to fall back on.

Saul looked over the other kid. He seemed to be comfortable handling the cards. A worthy adversary, despite his younger age.

It was showtime.

Saul grinned cheekily, dialing up his already high levels of cheerful exuberance. "Played much poker before?" he asked, taking Roni down off his shoulder and putting the tiny grey mouse on the table beside his chips. "Stay, Roni." He put down a small pile of cracker bits and cheese from one of his pockets to encourage the command. "I play some with my dad, but I usually lose." The seemingly careless comment wasn't even a lie. His dad was, after all, a professional card shark who wouldn't ever throw a game, even with his son.

He stuck out a hand as he made his self-introduction. "Saul Pierce." Just as fair warning, he added, "California Pierces." If the kid really was into professional poker circles - muggle or magical - he'd know the family. Whether or not there was any flicker of recognition would determine how Saul would play.

Hopefully, the rumors of cheating wouldn't get him banned from the table. The family only cheated when there was real money on the line.
1 Saul Pierce I'm in 82 Saul Pierce 0 5


Ian

July 26, 2008 10:59 PM
"Five card."

Ian smiled and handed over the deck to be cut, while simultaneously throwing in the requisite ante. His first introduction into the game had been at the age of five when he had 'stumbled' into a back-room while vacationing in Monaco. His father, after spotting him, allowed him to play in his stead. The five other men surrounding the table were quick to attack a seeming weakness, but within seven hands, Ian had caught onto the game and taken all of the chips.

A few of the men had tried to renege on paying up; the Grimm family's security team had quickly remedied that.

"Played much poker before?"

He nodded briefly in reply. As the fifth year continued to speak, Ian began filing away the pieces of information the conversation offered. Poker was about two things, and neither involved the cards themselves. It was a game that was won by observation and control. The only things he could control in the game were his choices and reactions- but he could only know to what extent he needed to control those based upon his observations.

Considering how he spent most of his free time, poker was an easy extension.

Ian took the offered hand briefly. "Ian Grimm." There was no reason to clarify on the branch; there were no other Grimms in the wizarding community. The Pierces, on the other hand, had constituted a whole room of paraphernalia on the 61st floor of Grimm Tower dating back into the 19th century. Ian's own growing library of intel had a section devoted to the family. Granted, most of his notes consisted of arbitrary observations and the occasional run-ins accrued during ordinarily school life. There weren't many situations that allowed for fifth and first years from different houses to intermingle.

As soon as the cut was completed, he dealt the cards, his hand more than comfortable with the easy motions. He paused before dealing the fifth cards, a consideration just dawning its head. "Sorry, I didn't think to clarify, but I meant five card draw. Still good?"



OOC- Fellow poker pal, you can feel free to godmodd the card dealing, incidentally. Also, if anyone else joins in, consider yourself dealt in as well.
0 Ian Ante up! 0 Ian 0 5

Saul Pierce

July 28, 2008 4:44 PM
Saul cut the deck, giving him a chance to palm a card, but he didn't take it. This was, so far, a friendly game. He tossed in his own ante, matching Ian's, and then looked at his cards as they were dealt out. He smirked a little in satisfaction as he saw the seven of hearts - for no better reason than because it was the third card dealt. The seven was completely useless with the two of diamonds and queen of spades he already had.

As he picked up the fourth card, Saul tried to remember who the Grimms were, but all he was really sure about was that they weren't whaling in the Pacific or throwing tons of air pollution into the atmosphere. It sounded vaguely familiar, though, so he figured it was probably some pureblood family that could trace their family tree back ten generations. And since Ian hadn't made any disparaging remarks about the California Pierces, Saul figured, while they weren't necessarily liberal, they probably weren't ultra conservative either.

Plus, Aladren. Smart kid. Saul had to assume he'd be running percentages in his head. Saul's math was only a little better than his spelling (meaning: slightly superior to completely abysmal), but he had good instincts and the Sight wasn't unknown in his family, though only those who had none at all claimed they did to anyone outside of the family. Most people scoffed at the very idea of the Sight anyway. But Saul's dad swore by his hunches and encouraged Saul to do the same. Divinations had been the one subject Saul had passed easily. You didn't need to have visions or be struck by certainty. You just had to know how to listen. Sometimes you got lucky and heard something that was really there. The real skill came in telling that apart from everything else your brain was just making up.

"Yeah," Saul agreed when Ian clarified that they were playing five card draw. Saul took the last card and looked over his hand. The fourth card had been a four of spades, but the fifth made Saul need to work his best acting mojo to not only keep from laughing but also not to change his expression at all. It was another seven.

He rearranged his cards, switching the places of the two and the seven so that the queen was between the two sevens and the four and the two were at the end. He pretended to be slow and thoughtful with the exchange so that maybe Ian would notice and think he had three good cards instead of just a pair. He took three chips from his stack and tossed them into with the ante chips. "I bet three." He was guessing the white ones were the lowest denomination since there were the most of those.
1 Saul Pierce Re: Ante up! 82 Saul Pierce 0 5


Ian

August 07, 2008 12:34 PM
Ian pretended an interest with his organizing his cards, without actually doing any organizing. Instead, he watched his partner's expressions. The smirk at the appearance of the third card, the re-arrangement of subsequent cards, and the ponderous quality, albeit slightly emphatic, in which the fifth year considered the re-arrangement. There were three possibilities: all the actions were contrived, all the actions were genuine, or it was a mix of the two. Considering what this branch of the Pierce family was known for, Ian was leaning toward the first.

Still, this was the first hand, and often one had to lose a couple of times in order to win.

He regarded his cards without expression, pausing only once to withdraw his glasses from his shirt pocket so that his squinting wouldn't be mistaken for concentration. A six, nine, and queen of hearts; and a five and three of clubs. Potential room for a straight, although that would be a reach; also potential for a flush. Of course, the judicious thing would be to retain his high card and hope for a pair or two pair draw. Ian had a weakness, though; he rather liked his flushes.

Especially when they were a reach.

"I bet three.

The addition of his glasses made the movement of the chips far more clear than their earlier blur of color. The chips were tossed, and again, Ian was unsure whether the lightness of the gesture was feigned or natural. It was a hard read; unwillingly, his lips curved into a crooked grin. He had to admit, it was fun having to guess and wait. Perhaps that was why he enjoyed the game so much. Forget the cards and the mathematics of probabilities and percentages; the real play happened beyond the cards, in reading the person holding them, guessing at the intentions behind an expression or gesture, behind a choice in betting or a frown when dealing.

"I'll call."

He placed his three chips far more carefully, arranging them in a neat pile beside his earlier ante. Without setting aside any of his cards for the draw, he picked up the deck and waited, poised. "How many?"
0 Ian I really have the urge to play for real, now. 0 Ian 0 5