Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task One - Show Your Cards (REN)

ACE OF SPADES - 1 

Simplicity was a feat accomplished by perfection, the way Ren Cayse saw it, and he knew that he was the simplest one arriving at the front doors of the grand casino, and thus, a symbol of perfection. Even though it was artificial, it worked, and the smile on his face was genuine as he strolled on through the city accompanying the place where he'd find his success - success only came out of simplicity. Intricate patterns may interconnect to develop a formula he'd gone over time and time again.

He'd put it into practice more than once. It was infallible.

At least, when he was the one playing with the variables. He couldn't speak for the airy redhead brushing past him to get to the front doors. He couldn't speak for the bubbly girl blitzing through the lobby, nor could he speak for the curvy woman making haste to follow after her.

He could only speak for himself, and that was enough for him.

His hands went out to push open the double doors that tempted him closer, but before his palms could touch the sleek surface they ran away, pulled open by a man on either side, each of them displaying an equally miserable smile. Ren could be sure that both were absolutely sick of holding doors open for people who would either walk out with millions or not a dime to their names. He nodded to each, silent thanks that meant nothing, and proceeded into the casino. A stream of people walked in front of him - they would lead him to the banquet hall. It was a place he soon realized was a vain attempt at perfection.

He knew that they had failed because there was a significant lack of simplicity. Bejeweled chandeliers hung from high ceilings, velvet carpeting curled around his shoes. Tables were set up with an impressively dull array of china and silverware he wouldn't have known how to use even after centuries of practice.

They had obviously been trying very hard to strike up the interests up their visitors. Ren had to give them credit: at least they'd made an effort. As long as the food they served was good, he would give them a pass on the whole "like-our-company-and-our-employment" deal that seemed to be radiating through the room.

Or maybe that was just all the perfume and cologne mixing together. It was an odd scent, and by odd, he meant that he had the urge to both gag and breathe more of it in at once. Instead he settled for a light cough, moving to sit at one of the elegantly-dressed tables, still empty. No one was interested in sitting at the very beginning of the banquet - Milena Seble was a place meant to strike up conversation, flaming lips and sparkling teeth going at it.

Ren merely shrugged and began to fiddle with a napkin. He swept his eyes over the growing crowd, making his judgements and slipping them into his pocket for later. That young, bubbly redhead - Tuna, was it? - she was one to keep an eye on. The most immature of the bunch were the ones to regard with professionalism; those with fresh minds typically had fresh ideas that the older visitors had yet to think up. Just get them talking and they might accidentally spill.

His eyes wandered to the other side of the room, where a man in a crisp suit roamed, ducking in and out of conversation occasionally, even when his presence was unwarranted. Ah, yes. I'm sure there'll several of those pretentious sorts running through here tonight. The man was blessed with some good looks, though, so Ren didn't completely brush him off.

Beside the man he caught sight of a beautiful woman, one who flashed eyes of green at any that loomed in the crosshairs of her vision. Someone came up to her and must've asked a favor, for soon she was scurrying across the banquet hall floor, turning her head to and fro in search of something. And the pushovers. But wait! A pushover never moves without aims to add in their own influence.