[[First person narative done in raspy old man voice]]



I've been having strange dreams the last few nights. That's not out of the ordinary, but for some reason, I can't stop thinking about them. Everything reminds me of them. They blur my days like careless hands through wet paint, and I find myself loosing track of time. What day is it? Friday? It must be Friday. That's the usual payday, and I got a pocket full of cash searing a hole in my slacks. I do remember that. It must be Friday.

I leave the sultry Georgian night behind and enter ceremoniously, pushing my way through the glass double doors. The cold breath of Central Air greets me, mixed with the harmonious jingle of countless slot machines. The excited shouts of patrons and the haunting drone of dealers drifts below the clanging and lights. The air smells of hope and desperation. I pull the scent into my lungs, savoring the bouquet. That's part of the reason I'm here. Hell, I appreciates the thrill of the gamble as much as the next guy but somethings are more important that money. Most wouldn't know it but this place is a goldmine for one of the most valuable commodities when you're my kind of people. You just gotta know what your looking for and how to take it.  

--Last edited by St. Christopher on 2009-02-11 23:55:02 --

I swagger through the mass of dazed patrons, weaving betwixt slop machine and roulette table, a wolf amongst sheep. My first stop is the bar. I take my ease on the counter, ordering a Singapore Sling when the barman gives me the time of day. Leisurely sipping my pink shaded poison, I survey the crowd the way a magnifying glass wielding child examines ants. Which one would be the luck one. I ponder the though for a moment but break my train to wink at a passing waitress. Lighting up a cigarette, I head for the craps table. Best to let Lady Luck do the leading.

I spend the next several hours throwing dice, flipping cards, tossing chips and, most importantly, chatting up my fellows. I'm looking for a very specific type of person: Naive, gullible, and lonesome. Plenty of tourist roll through town, on their way to somewhere better or simply lacking options. Country folk, hoping to make the big score and credulous locals, giving into repressed sins. These people flock here, seeking their dreams... and I happen to have a gut-rattlin hankering for dreams.

2009-03-02 02:48:55 St. Christopher rolls 7 dice to Make friends [Charism+Subterfuge] +2diff Redcap (Diff 8) 3,10,10,3,6, 6,1,9,7 (2 successes)  

--Last edited by St. Christopher on 2009-03-10 00:51:22 --