Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task Two - To Anyone (REN)

ACE OF SPADES - 2

No sooner had Ren Cayse taken a generous gulp from his glass did an upheaval of noise interrupt that temporary moment of bliss. People fell upon one another in a wave, shrinking away from the center of the room. Tiny shrieks and shattering glass tickled his eardrums, and though he was sour about the elbow that nearly knocked the drink out of his hand, he took the time to take another swell of his cocktail. A swish and a swallow, then he took to surveying the room.

The men and women staring them down, the four that had spent so much time easing the stresses of their visitors and bringing them comfort during their stay, held easy expressions. The almost uncaring way they held themselves was very much contradicted by the guns aimed at the crowd. If Ren had any experiences similar to that of the one he was currently in, he knew that the doors would be locked and figured it useless to try. People would panic, they'd soon realize that any sort of escape was vain, and then they'd settle back into their little suits and listen up. It had happened time and time before and it would happen time and time again.

So he shrugged, and went back to sipping his drink.

In his opinion, there wasn't nearly enough alcohol as there should've been, but he settled for what slid over his tongue - ignorance. But could it really be called ignorance if he was fully aware of it? Was he really so clueless if he made it an effort to drown out the sounds around him? The voices, both commanding and faint, held nothing of interest for him.

He would get along much better if he didn't know what was going on.

"We hope you enjoyed the banquet."

Ren gulped the contents down more heavily, almost violently, accompanied by a harsh squeeze of his closed lids.

"That was just to whet your appetite."

A flicker of an ache bounced over his chest. Had he not known any better, he might've thought it to be panic. His appearance gave off every air of calm, of collectedness, not a wrinkle in his suit and not a tilt in his bow tie. He intended to act the way he looked.

There was some movement where the Aces stood, like the shuffling of cards, and while that took place Ren took to investigating his nails, still not having moved from his initial spot. The presence of dozens slowly situated themselves in a crowd around the forefront Ace, some woman that droned on and lost his interest before catching it.

"I've played many games of Blackjack, but I've never been a dealer."

Huh. Well would ya look at that! There's already some dirt under these bad boys. I wonder if they'll allow me a trip to the little asskicker's room?

"Who's going first?"

Come to think of it, I've really gotta release some bodily fluids. Cocktail quite literally went right through me.

Silence, instead of the woman's hauntingly chipper voice, followed her last sentence, so dedicated to the lack of noise that he could hear the not-so-steady breaths of those surrounding him. Finally, he permitted himself to look up. Back and forth he looked. The expressions ranged between slack-jawed, wide-eyed, and just plain out confused. Some people gripped nearby tables for support - a smart move on their end, for if fire broke out at the barrel of a gun, all they'd have to do was duck. Sure, they'd be screwed ten times over when the beholder of a pistol came walking around the table, but at least they'd be saving themselves approximately six-point-two seconds.

Shrugging, he turned back to the Aces, growing quite comfortable between the quaking shoulders on either side of him.

Then, with realization striking him dead in the forehead, he did the very same with his palm: smacking it to his face and shaking his head in disbelief.