-THE MOON QUARTER-
"Heh heh."
The gambling wanderer, Baccarat, looks up at the new building. In development for a while, it was now open. Flashing neon and shining signs made it clear what it was - a casino. A way to seperate people from their money while making them think they'd earn it all back.
Of course, what fun was that without the chance of winning? And an experienced card sharp was exactly the type of man to turn it around on them. It'd just be a matter of playing it cool and not taking too much. The way the casinos did. It wasn't like the money was the draw for him, anyway.
It was the idea of beating them at their own game.
With a grin on his face, and walking in, Baccarat seeks out one of his favorite games... blackjack.
About an hour later, and he's traveled between a couple different games. Blackjack, poker, and now, of course, baccarat. Never winning too much, but always coming out just a bit ahead. Making sure to take some losses, even a couple impressive ones - the groans of the crowd when he'd folded a full house to someone else's bluff were music to his ears.
Of course, he knew he could have called that bluff. But sometimes, it wasn't about bluffing the players.
And indeed, as Baccarat suspected, the man in question - owner of the casino, and newly successful Agaman nightlife member - was watching. Not all the time. He had plenty of other guests to keep an eye on. It didn't matter how much the casino was fleecing, after all. It was his house. But should someone try to turn that on him... well. He'd have them out.
Which is why he kept returning to the scruffy, rumpled man who kept playing card games. There wasn't anything in particular, really. He won and lost about normally for someone with good luck. He'd fallen for some cheap tricks. He'd made some good bets. To even the trained eyes of his men, this was just another customer.
But to the owner, he was something more. It wasn't logic. It was simple intuition. The way the greats of gambling could sense each other.
"Tell me. That man down there. Who's he with?"
"Huh?"
"He's good. Too good. He's done this before. Enough that he can't be caught.
Pull me everything you got on him."
It took some asking around. Questioning the dealers. Avoiding his gazes as he moved to a different type of poker. That was what made the owner sure - the man avoided anything truly dependent on luck, that he couldn't influence at all.
Once they had the info, it's brought to the owner. He looks it over. A man named Baccarat - obviously an alias. First time here, but he'd been seen around the city. Occasionally with the Kobbers.
The Kobbers. That was enough to make the owner grit his teeth and look behind him. At the wall, with the photo of better days. When it was all four of them... before the other three had gone off on their own, whether for bribes or curiosity or revenge. Leaving him alone. If not for the Kobbers, they'd be here together. Talking and laughing and scheming and getting ready for a night on the town...
Well. That was why the man in purple had given him this shot, hadn't he? Just enough of a push to ensure this place could stay off the ground. And that he'd be able to use it against them. A weapon to wield against the Kobbers... and then, just maybe, he'd be able to bring the gang back together.
Couldn't get too sentimental, though. No matter how much the man in purple had claimed to be searching for dreams, those were a waste of time until they were in your reach.
As Baccarat leaves, he looks up to the ceiling. The mirror... or, in this case, the one-way mirror. He tips his hat and flips a single casino chip in the air. Impressed by his instincts, the owner tips his hat back, then looks at his men.
"If he comes back, watch him, always. If he slips up, toss him out. But if he doesn't, let him play."
"Boss? Why let him, if you think he's gaming the system?"
"Because I'm interested. And because... this could be what leads me to the Kobbers.
Hearts. Diamonds. Clubs.
This is for you."
Spades Slick
Blue Queen of Chips
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