The Art of Shamelessness [closed]

[Jager]

He rolled his eyes as he reached for the dice and let them rattle in his right hand. "How much we playin' again?" He watches her limp with little regard. He felt more annoyed than anything. It looked as dramatic as one poor little mi'quote could make it. He was half tempted to chant, c'mon c'mon at her, but she was back once more with the smokes. "Pass me that." 

 

He rattles the dice nice and good before throwing them across the table. When they land, 5 and 6 stare up at them.

[Zhavi]

"Too bad," Zhi said, and scooped the dice up. "Twenty gil minner on first roll. Thirty on chance." She tossed the dice. Six and five -- nearly a mirror roll of his own. She flicked them back his way.

 

"Ye make a habit o' forgettin' what ye've left in yer room, or are ye jes weak wi' booze?"

[Jager]

"Apparently. Forgot about the woman in my room before I brought another up." He quietly mumbles, "And my smokes.." He snatches up the dice and shakes them three times before dropping them onto the table. Six and Two, "Heh. Give me one of those.. too." He leans back with a smug grin and yawns. "Anymore booze around? Or your scraggly ass drink it all up?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi patted herself down and came up with varying amounts of gil. She stacked these to her right, picked out enough coins to equal twenty, and plunked them down.

 

"Thought ye looked t'be bad in yer cups. Need yerself a minder, ye do. If it was in reach, I drank it. Like ye had t'ask." She snorted. Pain management. That was what it was. "C'mon, roll an' throw out fer me." Her smile might have looked sweet if it wasn't for the bruising.

 

She started rolling herself her own smoke, deft and neat. It was obvious this was a chore she'd practiced many, many times. "An' fer this -- if ye get chance I'll toss a neat little cigarette in th'pile fer ye." Her smile was ugly.

[Jager]

"Didn't your mother teach you how to handle your money better than that?" He jokes as the dice are scooped back up and rattled unceremoniously . He glances at the smoke she's rolling and sighs before letting them scatter across the table. He stares down at the pair of eyes looking right back up. Snake eyes, that was. "Ruttin' hell.." He is aggravated, but rocks his chair back onto two legs. "So you ever hear from that kid? That one with the name- started with the D. Had that lad hangin' all over her, 'member?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi snickered as she took her money back. Her roll. Three and one. She left them where they lay, disgusted. "She taught me what she could, from her back. Nippin' money, that's what I learned, and fer that I needed none t'teach me but meself. That's how't is, th'world over. D'lyhhia," she said, and rolled her eye. "I'm scopin' her. I'll get me money's worth out o' that one, fer all she's greener 'n Gridania."

[Jager]

"I probably wouldn't even give her a quick lay.. the pain that one is." He laughs, "As fresh out the cradle as she is, prolly hasn't a clue what she's doin'. What's more, is that character she's always taggin' along with is tryin' his hardest. Hah.. Hahaha." He found the efforts of another man trying his hand with the ladies something truly hilarious. Why? No clue. "Ruttin' kids. Oi." He scoops up the dice and doesn't even bother trying to roll them, they're scattered and thrown right back down. Five and Nine. 

 

"How old are you anyways?" The topic of 'kids' brought about the question, but there was no stopping just how random it sounded. "Don't give me that, you never ask a lady their age tripe. You're anything but." Grin.

[Zhavi]

"So ye don't go ruttin' everythin' that moves! Marvel, that is." Shock and awe colored Zhi's tone, with a generous dollop of mockery. "Ain't seen th'tagalong in some time, though. Ain't sure what happened t'him, ain't gonna ask."

 

Five and three. She grinned back at him, waved her fingers at him to put down his money. She lit up and took a long inhalation. "Ain't sure. Me mam counted fer awhile . . . but once I struck out I never bothered. What's th'point, hey? Why? D'ye keep count?"

 

She ignored the lady bit -- it was terrible bait.

[Jager]

He rolled his eyes, but continued to grin as he did so. Even he had his limits.. he hadn't the hear to tell Zhavi she was a prime example of such a thing. On the bright side, he was numb to her smell! But when he put his money down, he seemed more caught off by the question instead. He looked almost guilty or ashamed, as if counting one's age was a bad thing now. "No, not at all. I mean.. not like it matters? Was just curious. You're clearly no pup fresh on the streets like Deleelia.. whatever her name is. Just wonderin' who here is older." He bares those toothy whites as he grins wickedly; suddenly age was going to shift the tides of power here, wasn't it? Could it? Or was he just ruttin' around.

[Zhavi]

One and six. A slow, satisfied look overtook her, and she looked up expectantly to the pile of coins. "Thirty gil in th'pot, dovey." Sweeter than candy, that voice.

 

"Who gives a shit who's older? Plenty o' ol' men get their guts ripped out by th'younger. Plenty o' pups get tossed in th'drink, all th'same. Age ain't got no meanin'. Experience's what counts. Experience an' skill, an' I got plenty o' both."

 

From the mouths of babes.

[Jager]

When he threw his coin up, he did so in a way that scattered her neatly stacked pile. He wasn't a good loser. But he did chuckle at what she had to say, "Between us? It really doesn't matter, but, I have my reason for wantin' to know just how many numbers you've got under the belt." He tips forward and rolls out of the chair before walking towards the bed she'd been laying in. He takes a seat before leaning over and stuffs his hand under the mattress. "I'm thinkin' you're still pretty wet behind the ears. Maybe you and Dolliah can 'ave a little sleep over. Braid each others hair, talk about boys.." Aha. He slips his hand in deep and withdraws a flask hidden deep inside the bed. "And you say you've pilfered for a livin'?" He makes his way back towards the table.

[Zhavi]

"Oho, what's this?" Zhi turned away from the table, dice in hand and cigarette hanging off her lower lip. "If I didn't know better, I'd think ye were tryin' yer hand at diggin' on me. But surely ye wouldn't do that, on account ye should know better'n t' go 'round snufflin' like a blimmin' lackwit. At least make it interestin' fer me." She tsked. "Jager, Jager, Jager -- surely ye don't plan on disappointin' th' lasses all evenin'?"

 

She rolled. Six and five. Sighed. Pushed the coin towards his side of the table, along with the dice.

[Jager]

He watched her with those dangerous yellow eyes, unsure of what to make of that last statement. He had his reasons for digging. While she may have been more hands on with extracting information, he worked more in the head. There was an infinite amount of ways to get into someone's mind, pick and chip at it, manipulate and harvest from it whatever you sought. Right now, he came off as casual and interested. He was a man sharing a room with his partner with nothing else better to do than kill time. This was his angle, this was his casual distraction. 

 

He shrugged, "Somethin' tells me you're a little easy when it comes to bein' left unimpressed. Hold this-" He slid the flask over to her while he reached for the dice and tossed them across the board. 

 

Four and One. 

 

"I think some of your grime is weighing the dice down."

[Zhavi]

"Hold it'r drink it?" Because she could avoid his probes all night long. Even while drunk.

 

She lifted the flask without waiting for his reply, took a nice long chug. Her resulting grin was a little looser, a little less caring of the pain.

 

Maybe while drunk.

 

Why did she even care? He wanted to know who she'd slept with? Not like it mattered.

 

"Ye seem t'be doin' right fine wi'm," she groused, collecting her scattered coin and putting twenty into the middle. "Get on wi' it, roll."

[Jager]

That wasn't quite what he was wanting to get to know, but.. not like he'd object to learning about something so scandalous. Shrug. "I'll have to teach you how to play some Fortune's Dice, the game of luck, deception, and bullshit trash talk." He reaches for the flask and grimaces at the uncapped rim. Not even the alcohol in this container could sterilize the bad breath she had. 

 

He rattles, he tosses, he rolls; Two and Six.

 

"Piss and blood, we're about to change out dice." He didn't look at all pissed, despite his sharp replies. "I could throw pieces of gil at  you all night; I'd be better off tossin' them into the bust of a pretty lady down at the crow's nest." A local spot he'd come to find, where the alcohol was warm and watered down, and the women were just as bad. "I'm uppin' the stakes, you have the stones to go toe-to-toe?"

[Zhavi]

"What, didn't get yer fill o' bullshit trash talk yet?" She screwed up her face in thought, winced, and settled for half a scowl. "Yer nothin' more'n a walkin' stiff prick, swear on me mam. Ye talk more when ye've gone unfondled. All gratin' an' full o' whingin'."

 

She put thirty in the middle.

 

"Lass'd think ye were tryin' t'soften her up, way ye beat around." She giggled, "'R mebbe not. Dice'll get all cold an' lonely wi' yer tongue loose as 'tis. Roll."

[Jager]

He lifted a brow and watched her with a look that projected annoyance. "Startin' to wonder who has the bigger hole now. You, or Leila." His grin was just as toothy. He'd shrug as he picked up the dice. "I think I like ya more when you're puttin' on that tough guy attitude. Stompin' around wit'yer chest puffed out and your lip cocked up like you're smellin' a bit o' piss." He takes one dice and pelts it at her. Five. 

 

But when he reaches for the second, he takes the flask with him, too. "Room smells like shit and you make for some terrible company with booze and game. I'll come find you tomorrow." He was headed for his ship for a long bath and a comfortable bed. It was risky to use it for something so recreational, but damn it all if he didn't need it. The second dice was bounced off her forehead and a hand full of coins, sixty, was scattered across the table.

[Zhavi]

"Aww, Jager! Ain't nice t'talk 'bout a lady's hole when she ain't 'round t'hear it. Thought ye'd better manners'n that. Can't take ye anywhere nice, now can I?" The first die she blocked. The second, well, having one eye swollen shut really messed with her depth perception. It made her wince.

 

"Don't care where ye feck off to'r when -- but ye could at least get me somethin' t'eat. I'm ruttin' hungry, ye blaggart. Oh aye, booze is nice -- an' I see ye takin' it like a coldhearted wretch, I do -- but it ain't gonna fill a lass' stomach. No it ain't. So how 'bout ye run yerself down t' a stall like a good little house boy an' fetch me somethin', fancy?"

 

She was staring at him.

 

Her expression wasn't a particularly nice one.