09-06-2013, 02:41 AM
So. Oriena was game. Judging by the tone of Jaxen's voice, he wasn't quite so certain about it. Jon chuckled to himself. A little gun shy, maybe? Or perhaps...yes, maybe there was some jealousy there, an unspoken irritation that Jon was sniffing around real estate already marked for purchase. Yes, Jaxen was certainly a possessive one. Of course, there were two problems with that line of thought. Jaxen did not possess Oriena at the moment. He merely coveted her affections. And if Jaxen thought Jon was trying to stake a claim on her, well, that certainly wasn't the case. There was another Jon had met recently who had driven thoughts of other women away.
But of course Jaxen didn't have to know that. And neither did Oriena. And he could play with them both for the moment, and maybe...in this atmosphere of posturing and facades they'd both put forward to each other...they'd be better for it in the end.
The power of the Great Spirit continued to flow through him. Yes, he'd been getting stronger recently, able to pull more into himself as he wished. It was truly a violent thing, something Jon had not imagined would be the case when he had first begun his search into controlling this power. He'd imagined the Great Spirit as a tranquil thing, but instead it threatened with every breath to pull him in, ravage his very bones and burn him from inside out. Just to maintain control, it was like walking on the fine blade of a dagger, one foot put wrong and the power would slice clean through you.
He looked down at the table. What game he had in mind...perfect. Jon turned to Jaxen. “There is a game we could play here. A moment, please.”
He flagged down a serving girl and quickly requested she find a set of items for him. Three pens, something to write on – index cards or paper, or even bar napkins would do fine – and a set of dice. The girl frowned at the last – apparently it was not easy to come by dice in this establishment, even though Jon had been told earlier that the rules were lax about allowing gambling on the premises. Eventually, though, she nodded and left.
He turned back to Oriena, on his left side, and Jaxen on his right. “I don't know if you are familiar with Numbers' Gambit?”
Blank stares. Perhaps an eyebrow lifted there. Well, it was kind of Jon's fault for pulling the idea for playing this game out of nowhere.
“It is very popular now in the United States. More of an icebreaker than a game, I suppose...”
Yeah, more of a drinking game among fraternity brothers in the States for times when their sorority sisters came to party, it was almost comical how poorly Jon did the one time he played the game...
“There is an element of skill, as well as chance, but it is what happens with the forfeits that make it most interesting. Losing can be as much fun as winning.”
While Jon waited upon the server to bring back the items he'd requested, Jon quickly laid out how the game was played. It was simple, really. Each person wrote down a number from one to twenty, kept concealed from the others. Then a single die was rolled. In the case of a three-person game, if the roll came up with a 1 or 2, the players passed their number to the person on their left. If the roll came up 3 or 4, the players passed their numbers to the right. If the roll was a 5 or a 6, the players kept their own numbers.
The loser of each round was the one with the lowest number, while the winner was the one with the highest. The loser then had to pay a forfeit to the winner. The third player, who had neither won but lost, acted as the judge in the round. That person determined both whether the loser had satisfied the forfeit and also whether the winner's demand was appropriate.
Some players' strategy was to always write higher numbers, and hope to keep it. Others tended to shoot for the lowers, and hope it got passed onto another. The odds were 2 out of 3 the player wouldn't keep his original number. A third group would shoot for the middle of the road as insurance against either passing along a good number or being stuck with a poor one. And then there was a fourth group that learned the preferred strategies of his opponents, and adjusted accordingly.
As simple as it was, Numbers' Gambit was a perfect game to play among people who didn't really know one another. One way or another, their true natures would become revealed. Especially when it came to the redemption of forfeits.
Speaking of which...Neither Jaxen nor Oriena seemed particularly concerned with money. Understatement of the day? No, money as a wager would not be suitable in a game with these two, and it wouldn't be of particular interest to Jon – although he certainly wasn't affluent to the point of blowing his nose upon CCD dollars, either.
Yes...the forfeits should be of something more precious to them. Oriena's secrets, Jaxen's pride...yes, Jon could put his own dignity and secrets on the line for the sake of getting those two past the almost laughable facades they erected against each other, and the world.
He took another sip of his drink. Ooh, it was so clean and crisp. If Jon were to take up drinking while in Moscow, he would definitely be switching his drink of choice to vodka on ice.
“I propose the forfeits to be...what the winner of each round chooses. The winner may require the loser to truthfully answer a question, or make the loser commit an action, or even take something the loser has – even a piece of clothing. To the victor goes the spoils. Although the victor in one round may be the loser in the next, so take caution with what you demand.”
It was an odd sensation to be in control of the power of the Great Spirit while drunk. Jon's senses, while heightened, were at the same time dampened, as if his sensations were passed through a filter of fine linen before they reached his mind. If he concentrated he could anticipate the delayed reaction of the synapses of his brain to his body's movements. Which was why he was able notice the server's approach without looking, and smoothly turn to take the items she had brought him without either bumping up against her or dropping the things she handed to him.
Jon deposited the items upon the table. Yes, she had done well. Jon would have to be sure to include a tip to her when he settled his tab later. She had brought him a stack of blank white cards, a selection of pens – four, in case one ran out of ink, way to go the extra mile! – and one small cube. Red, with a set of white pips to correspond with each of the six faces – must have come from a craps table operating somewhere in the vicinity.
Jon smiled at the two, and put the cards, pens and the red die in the center of the table. “Shall we play?”
But of course Jaxen didn't have to know that. And neither did Oriena. And he could play with them both for the moment, and maybe...in this atmosphere of posturing and facades they'd both put forward to each other...they'd be better for it in the end.
The power of the Great Spirit continued to flow through him. Yes, he'd been getting stronger recently, able to pull more into himself as he wished. It was truly a violent thing, something Jon had not imagined would be the case when he had first begun his search into controlling this power. He'd imagined the Great Spirit as a tranquil thing, but instead it threatened with every breath to pull him in, ravage his very bones and burn him from inside out. Just to maintain control, it was like walking on the fine blade of a dagger, one foot put wrong and the power would slice clean through you.
He looked down at the table. What game he had in mind...perfect. Jon turned to Jaxen. “There is a game we could play here. A moment, please.”
He flagged down a serving girl and quickly requested she find a set of items for him. Three pens, something to write on – index cards or paper, or even bar napkins would do fine – and a set of dice. The girl frowned at the last – apparently it was not easy to come by dice in this establishment, even though Jon had been told earlier that the rules were lax about allowing gambling on the premises. Eventually, though, she nodded and left.
He turned back to Oriena, on his left side, and Jaxen on his right. “I don't know if you are familiar with Numbers' Gambit?”
Blank stares. Perhaps an eyebrow lifted there. Well, it was kind of Jon's fault for pulling the idea for playing this game out of nowhere.
“It is very popular now in the United States. More of an icebreaker than a game, I suppose...”
Yeah, more of a drinking game among fraternity brothers in the States for times when their sorority sisters came to party, it was almost comical how poorly Jon did the one time he played the game...
“There is an element of skill, as well as chance, but it is what happens with the forfeits that make it most interesting. Losing can be as much fun as winning.”
While Jon waited upon the server to bring back the items he'd requested, Jon quickly laid out how the game was played. It was simple, really. Each person wrote down a number from one to twenty, kept concealed from the others. Then a single die was rolled. In the case of a three-person game, if the roll came up with a 1 or 2, the players passed their number to the person on their left. If the roll came up 3 or 4, the players passed their numbers to the right. If the roll was a 5 or a 6, the players kept their own numbers.
The loser of each round was the one with the lowest number, while the winner was the one with the highest. The loser then had to pay a forfeit to the winner. The third player, who had neither won but lost, acted as the judge in the round. That person determined both whether the loser had satisfied the forfeit and also whether the winner's demand was appropriate.
Some players' strategy was to always write higher numbers, and hope to keep it. Others tended to shoot for the lowers, and hope it got passed onto another. The odds were 2 out of 3 the player wouldn't keep his original number. A third group would shoot for the middle of the road as insurance against either passing along a good number or being stuck with a poor one. And then there was a fourth group that learned the preferred strategies of his opponents, and adjusted accordingly.
As simple as it was, Numbers' Gambit was a perfect game to play among people who didn't really know one another. One way or another, their true natures would become revealed. Especially when it came to the redemption of forfeits.
Speaking of which...Neither Jaxen nor Oriena seemed particularly concerned with money. Understatement of the day? No, money as a wager would not be suitable in a game with these two, and it wouldn't be of particular interest to Jon – although he certainly wasn't affluent to the point of blowing his nose upon CCD dollars, either.
Yes...the forfeits should be of something more precious to them. Oriena's secrets, Jaxen's pride...yes, Jon could put his own dignity and secrets on the line for the sake of getting those two past the almost laughable facades they erected against each other, and the world.
He took another sip of his drink. Ooh, it was so clean and crisp. If Jon were to take up drinking while in Moscow, he would definitely be switching his drink of choice to vodka on ice.
“I propose the forfeits to be...what the winner of each round chooses. The winner may require the loser to truthfully answer a question, or make the loser commit an action, or even take something the loser has – even a piece of clothing. To the victor goes the spoils. Although the victor in one round may be the loser in the next, so take caution with what you demand.”
It was an odd sensation to be in control of the power of the Great Spirit while drunk. Jon's senses, while heightened, were at the same time dampened, as if his sensations were passed through a filter of fine linen before they reached his mind. If he concentrated he could anticipate the delayed reaction of the synapses of his brain to his body's movements. Which was why he was able notice the server's approach without looking, and smoothly turn to take the items she had brought him without either bumping up against her or dropping the things she handed to him.
Jon deposited the items upon the table. Yes, she had done well. Jon would have to be sure to include a tip to her when he settled his tab later. She had brought him a stack of blank white cards, a selection of pens – four, in case one ran out of ink, way to go the extra mile! – and one small cube. Red, with a set of white pips to correspond with each of the six faces – must have come from a craps table operating somewhere in the vicinity.
Jon smiled at the two, and put the cards, pens and the red die in the center of the table. “Shall we play?”