Re: Battle Royale! Round 5: Monte Casino
01-25-2010, 01:18 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.
Whit simmered, but calmed. Although the scenario played out a little different than he expected, it didn't matter- Zeke was as good as dead. Whit sneered as he watched him go. It was unexpected, but the ninja's true limitation wasn't his strength or skill, but his mind. Whit considered this his victory over Zeke. Even if it didn't feel complete, this was the end. Zeke had hit his limit, and would soon die, because his mind could not restrain his impulses. Zeke simply wanted to kill, too badly, even in this place where that impulse wouldn't be accepted. Whit watched as he saw Zeke's outline for what he believed to be the last time, and then turned his attention to the matter at hand- the bet of "sanity."
Zeke's appreciation for blood was cut short as he felt the eyes of the patrons upon him.
The purple sleeved man spoke up. "You may not have realized it, which would be complete folly on your part, but there are rules here. True, there are no "official" ones, but we made rules ourselves! Do you know why? Because we aren't here for carnage. We see enough of that elsewhere. We're here to enjoy ourselves, and honestly? You aren't letting us do that."
A strange, spiked man and a youngish boy drew forth their knives. The incredibly plain man with the dragon tattoos' arms began twitching, as if they had bloodthirsty minds of their own.
An unreasonably hulking man stepped forth.
Similar sentiments were shared by the crowd, as they drew weapons and began to move.
Zeke's killing high was gone now, replaced by combat readiness. He had fought many before... But he hadn't fought many who each had great skills. Was this going to work out? He wasn't quite sure at all... He felt a tinge of regret for getting into this mess, but quickly shut down that train of thought, and replaced it with snark.
"oh, I guess I should say I'm sorry?" he turned to the corpse beside him. "sorry."
"No, don't say sorry... It makes us feel bad!" the man exclaimed, as the crowd drew in.
Sanity... Betting sanity. On a game, so simply? Absurd- but Of course, though, this was the point of their alliance- to match wits or something of the sort, just... Like... This. Whit felt shivers fly in his body. This game would end one of them... How exciting. But to bet sanity... What was sanity anyway? It was the ability to think like he always had, to be balanced mentally, to have a sense of himself. It was what ordered his mind, what allowed his mind to order his... Everything! A clear choice.
"No. I won't bet my sanity."
nobody said anything for a moment, and he continued.
"I won't bet something that I need every bit of to play at all. But... There's no need to worry. I'm sure my Life is worth the same. I'll bet that instead."
the dealer smiled thinnly. "That's...an Acceptable subsitute."
Whit's counter changed to read:100%. This was it, no going back. Breathing deeply one last time, he killed his facial expressions and watched carefully as the cards fell together and intertwined, becoming mixed to everybody but him.
Whit simmered, but calmed. Although the scenario played out a little different than he expected, it didn't matter- Zeke was as good as dead. Whit sneered as he watched him go. It was unexpected, but the ninja's true limitation wasn't his strength or skill, but his mind. Whit considered this his victory over Zeke. Even if it didn't feel complete, this was the end. Zeke had hit his limit, and would soon die, because his mind could not restrain his impulses. Zeke simply wanted to kill, too badly, even in this place where that impulse wouldn't be accepted. Whit watched as he saw Zeke's outline for what he believed to be the last time, and then turned his attention to the matter at hand- the bet of "sanity."
Zeke's appreciation for blood was cut short as he felt the eyes of the patrons upon him.
The purple sleeved man spoke up. "You may not have realized it, which would be complete folly on your part, but there are rules here. True, there are no "official" ones, but we made rules ourselves! Do you know why? Because we aren't here for carnage. We see enough of that elsewhere. We're here to enjoy ourselves, and honestly? You aren't letting us do that."
A strange, spiked man and a youngish boy drew forth their knives. The incredibly plain man with the dragon tattoos' arms began twitching, as if they had bloodthirsty minds of their own.
An unreasonably hulking man stepped forth.
Similar sentiments were shared by the crowd, as they drew weapons and began to move.
Zeke's killing high was gone now, replaced by combat readiness. He had fought many before... But he hadn't fought many who each had great skills. Was this going to work out? He wasn't quite sure at all... He felt a tinge of regret for getting into this mess, but quickly shut down that train of thought, and replaced it with snark.
"oh, I guess I should say I'm sorry?" he turned to the corpse beside him. "sorry."
"No, don't say sorry... It makes us feel bad!" the man exclaimed, as the crowd drew in.
Sanity... Betting sanity. On a game, so simply? Absurd- but Of course, though, this was the point of their alliance- to match wits or something of the sort, just... Like... This. Whit felt shivers fly in his body. This game would end one of them... How exciting. But to bet sanity... What was sanity anyway? It was the ability to think like he always had, to be balanced mentally, to have a sense of himself. It was what ordered his mind, what allowed his mind to order his... Everything! A clear choice.
"No. I won't bet my sanity."
nobody said anything for a moment, and he continued.
"I won't bet something that I need every bit of to play at all. But... There's no need to worry. I'm sure my Life is worth the same. I'll bet that instead."
the dealer smiled thinnly. "That's...an Acceptable subsitute."
Whit's counter changed to read:100%. This was it, no going back. Breathing deeply one last time, he killed his facial expressions and watched carefully as the cards fell together and intertwined, becoming mixed to everybody but him.