Topic: House of Cards

The Architect

Date: 2009-03-27 21:28 EST
Amongst the tall buildings of Rhy'din's business district a bright thorn grew. It was a quiet adjustment; most were unsure when or how the towering building came to be, but many were convinced it had been there for years, happily serving the vices in a city of sin. However long it stood, The Throne of Saturn became the seat of decadence for those who could pay the price. Through double-wide glass doors, ornate with subtle flourishes of platinum patterns reminiscent of times long gone, the casino sprawled out like a golden Eden before the eyes of men: a symphony of slot machines, tamed by the beat of dice to tables and the slide of cards between hands , all under the bronze eyes of Apollo, watching. It was a thing of intricate and careful beauty.

Above the throng of bodies pouring coin under the watch of old gods, marble staircases sprawled upward into the quiet reaches of a veritable Olympus. An upper room opened wide with the low tones of a live piano driving the sway of cocktail waitresses" hips, the sounds of the masses in the floors below muted. A wash of suits with ladies curled around their arms crowded around the last poker match of the evening, whispers spreading across the blue-bloods: some fool was attempting to beat Marius at his own game.

The dealer spread the cards before the two men still remaining and the crowd tasted anticipation like vultures over an impending corpse. Mr. Kerrick was a broad-shouldered man, to the point where his suit sat awkwardly across his chest, almost too tight; beads of sweat bulged from his receding hairline as he collected his cards with sweaty palms, licking his lips nervously. The cards had been taunting him with victory all evening, so close he could nearly taste it " and with the way his hotel was falling in debt and his bad habits were rising, he wasn't beyond cheating the win. His beady eyes darted aside to the man at his left, a sleazy grin crawling up his jaw. "May the best man win." Glancing at his cards, Kerrick shoved his chips all in without hesitation; the crowd's hushed murmur became a rumble.

Marius was a picture of fairy-tale calm as he watched the chips spill over each other on the table. His pot was significantly less, but there was no doubt in his game of predator and prey. His complexion was dusky, the tanned earth pitch of the Mediterranean reminiscent of old Rome; his cheek bones were high, hair dark with a curl of silver at the brow (a charming reminder of his age that the rest of his body didn't seem to carry), and there was a careful smile poised along his mouth, polite and prepared. This was the Lion of Saturn and his domain was without question. "Of course, Mr. Kerrick." After an unnecessary observation of his cards, Marius pushed his chips forward to match the other man's bet. "You've been playing quite excellently tonight; after last night's game, I wasn't sure you intended on returning. Call."

The insult played light on his tongue, but hit like a bullet to the man's spine. He puffed up his chest, nearly tearing his suit, and glared narrowly at Marius. "I assure you, there should be no worries regarding my finances." His tone spoke otherwise, guarded and low.

He offered no reply beyond the quiet grace of a smile, turning to observe the table; neither could raise further. The dealer gave a curt nod and Kerrick threw down his hand: a ten-high straight. The crowd's collective voice rose and tittered as the doctor's grin grew; this was his victory. He was already reaching for the pot with soft, rumbling laughter.

Kerrick stalled when he heard the noise rise for a second squall, ending with soft clapping of hands that had never seen labor. He was nearly shaking as his eyes slowly shifted to see the cards Marius spread on the table: a royal flush. "That's?" It should have been impossible. Kerrick knew the probabilities, the calculations repeating in his mind. It couldn't be done. It shouldn't have been done.

Marius didn't even bother collecting the chips. He rose, accepting the handshakes of the surrounding crowd as they were offered with murmured congratulations. Kerrick moaned under his breath, gripping his hair in his hands tightly. "It's over," he muttered, voice cracking. "I'm done." His hotel " the only competitor to Marius" casino " would not crawl back from its debt this time. He nearly jumped when he saw a hand being offered out to him, and soon found himself staring into Marius" green eyes as the crowd began to thin. "You bastard?"

Where had the polite smile gone" It was vicious now, subtly curled at the corners. "Never ask who is the better man, Kerrick." His voice was a storm on the water, turbulent and cold; it made Kerrick shudder violent, rising from the table without taking the man's hand and stumbling toward the door.

Marius's smile was tempered and calm by the time Kerrick made it to the exit, a man in a dark suit oozing up to the casino owner's side. "Boss?"

He tipped his head minutely. "Have someone follow him. Make sure he doesn't get any clever ideas and that he sells the hotel in the morning."

"Got it." The man nodded and lumbered off to ease his way through the crowd as Marius moved away and toward his office. The children's games were over; this was nothing, the people insignificant and expendable " but soon the real match would begin, and Marius knew the cards all too well.