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15 — A Dangerous Game
🕑 Added 2024-04-14 10:11:52 +0000 UTCThe Pool scene in Seattle hadn’t been anything so grand like what you’d find further out into the country or even in shit-hole Orange County, but when a place did have a table you could always count on finding someone on the other side of it. The bar Cameron worked at had been like that, and Alex and a few others had often lingered around waiting until he got off. Well before Alex had turned twenty-one if he was being honest.
So when Luan had switched his Snooker table for Alex’s Pool, he knew he couldn’t let that handicap sit uncontested.
“I’ll spot you two balls,” he said, “To even things out a little.”
It was the fairest way to handicap a game of Eight-ball in Alex’s opinion. This way the balls stayed on the table, but whether Luan played stripes or solids, he’d be able to take a shot on the eight-ball two balls earlier than Alex could.
The lean, wolfish man slammed his 10 Real bill onto a high-top table next to Alex’s pitiful sum, then bared his teeth in a dangerous grin, “Rather cocky, aren’t you?”
Cocky? Yeah, that sounded about right. Mages and otherwise tended to view the world of ‘Mundanes’ as smaller than the one they knew, so it only went to figure that Alex would be the cream of the crop of what it had to offer.
A normal person who found himself amongst you Nightmares wouldn’t be completely normal, would he?
And Luan was a shifter. There was no doubt that his senses were keen, but most clans hung around their territory in the wilderness, not in civilized bars. Alex would put decent odds to him besting the man, for all that it mattered.
“I’ll give you first break as well,” he added. “First to three games wins.”
Luan huffed derisively.
“Stripes,” he called.
Then he grabbed his wooden cue and leveled it on the bridge of his hand, peering down its length. His eyes narrowed with a predator’s focus. His arms were muscled and lanky and his fingers grisled and slender. He placed the cue ball off to the side, lined up his shot, and then stopped.
Everything seemed to go still for a second. The bossa nova playing from the speakers overhead seemed distant, as if sound had been sucked out of the room. Then the ball shot forth and with a barrage of dull clinks, Alex watched the array of balls spread across the table.
And as the eight-ball in the center rolled slowly into the middle pocket, he ate his words and tasted immediate regret for them on his tongue like something sour. Luan was better than him.
Right, it would be strange if he wasn’t. That’s fine. Better this way, probably.
Bar rules dictated that pocketing the eight-ball on the break shot was an instant win, so Alex reached over to gather them for the next round. He was stopped.
“WPA rules,” Luan said. He beamed at Alex as he fetched the eightball from its pocket and placed it back on the table. “And, I’ll spot you two.”
Alex grimaced. Then he remembered that he was playing over a pot of roughly 4$ in dead currency, and against a man that could kill him in a second if they were anywhere else but here.
“Thank you,” he grumbled. Then the game began in earnest.
As Luan continued his run, Alex started to get a better grip on his skill level and felt himself start to relax. The shifter’s senses lent themselves well to the accuracy of his shots, but he didn’t seem particularly strategically minded. His positioning was nothing to write home about at least, and outside of the odd practiced trick shot or two, it was becoming clear that he wasn’t up against a professional or anything of the like. Granted, Luan was well above Alex’s level of play all the same.
It wasn’t as if Alex was concerned that being trounced in a game of pool would make him look too weak or anything. Not more than playing one while covered in gauze tape and bandages already did, but it was reassuring that he’d at least get to play a more even game.
He watched as Luan lined up his next shot with the same fervent intensity that he’d shown earlier. It seemed to come naturally to him. But when he’d sunk his second stripe just a moment before he’d found his path unfortunately crowded by Alex’s solids, and his third shot went nowhere. He ended his run with two sunk balls and handed the turn off to Alex.
They didn’t speak much, and Alex soon found himself lost in the atmosphere of the pub.
There was just something about it.
The upbeat jazz played by soft horns, the smell of polished wood. An empty bar, like the one he’d lingered by just after closing, playing pool or darts with his first real friends. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m acting my age. It all just took him back to a time that was much simpler.
He hopped one leg onto the table’s ridge, reading the layout of the balls and tried to calculate ahead the best he could. He saw a way he could potentially sink three balls this run, but Luan’s last stroke had sent the cue ball to a tricky location. Alex would need a masse shot here, something that required a near 90° perpendicular stroke to put enough side spin on the ball. And he was many… many years out of rust for something like that.
No, there are other ways…
But Alex supposed he just wanted his masse shot. So he would have it.
Clink!
He smiled, then stretched the rueful expression into something more vain as he let the game settle into the background of his mind. He was feeling strangely relaxed by this all, but he hadn’t suddenly gone stupid. Alex could still feel the shifter’s quiet gaze split between him and the table, and the question still remained. Why was Luan giving him the time of day?
He didn’t buy for a second that his only reason was boredom.
He lined up his cue, a look of concentration on his face as he mimed his stroke, then pocketed his second ball. Velrick’s parting words echoed again in Alex’s head. He was starting to think they’d been a warning; too much inconspicuousness was suspicious. Luan hadn’t spoken in some minutes.
He was clearly waiting, taking his measure for whatever reason. He’d rolled the ball into Alex’s court and he had to choose what to do with it.
But why?
It didn’t matter, that wasn’t a question this Alex would ask.
“So… a werewolf,” Alex started, “Like… in the movies?”
The cue ball bounced off the cushion at a trajectory slightly off from what he’d wanted. His turn came to an end.
Luan laughed. “Hah! No, not… Well, I guess some of them are like that. Maybe not so much ‘rip their shirts off and howl at the moon’ but the Grey Wolves hold a lot more sway in media than the rest of us, what you’ve seen isn’t really representative. Really, not all shifters are wolves y’know? I come from a clan of Maned Wolves and the subject is…a little hot amongst my pack.”
“I see.”
Alex understood what he was saying. Maned Wolves, despite the name, weren’t actually wolves. They were a species of their own genus, and as far as the larger shifter clans were concerned, lesser for it. If Alex recalled correctly, conflicts had largely forced them to roam the outskirts of the South-American highlands.
Closer to human society…
Luan sank another striped ball, putting a superfluous amount of spin on his shot.
“So what’s your story?” Luan asked, “You look fancy with your slacks and tie and all, but a working man doesn’t just wake up and face the apocalypse, eh?”
Alex hummed his agreement. A low-ball for a low-ball. It was a fair enough question, even if he really was just your average nine-to-five call-center salesman.
“My Dad was proficient in mixed martial-arts,” Alex said, “He was… harsh in his training, and he’d run a dojo out of our downstairs ever since I can remember. At least while he was still around…”
He added a sad inflection to that last part and hoped that Luan could only sniff out fear and not bullshit.
“Hah! You expect me to believe throwing hands on the mat prepared you for Nightmare? Enough to kill a Scenario Boss?”
Luon gave a derisive snort but the tone of his voice was disbelieving, not accusatory, so Alex decided his story was good enough. He wasn’t about to lavish his story and make himself some young prodigious CIA agent or anything. Though…
“I’m not happy about any of this,” Alex said, “But I wasn’t happy with my life back on Earth either. And this power… this feeling---like having raw energy rushing through your veins its--”
“Really something, ain’t it? Just don’t let it control you, that’s how you end up dead, kid. Eight-ball. Corner pocket.”
Luan leaned over the table, his expression unreadable. Then just as he’d called, he sunk the eight ball into its pocket, taking the first game for himself.
“You’re not a bad shot, but this is still a little unfair isn’t it? How about this. I race to three, all the same. But if you win two games, we’ll call it your victory. Sounds good?”
Alex smirked something nasty. “You give me too many handicaps and you might regret it. Don’t complain when I start giving you a run for your money.”
“Hah! You’d fit right in with my pack with that kind of attitude!”
Luan laughed as he scavenged the balls from their pockets and set them up for him.
Truthfully, Alex didn’t think he was capable of getting the man to eat his words. But there were still ways to make the game harder for someone who was better than you. He’d go light on his break shot, keep the balls in a cluster. Rather than try for unlikely run-outs, he’d focus on hindering Luan’s own streaks. He’d slow the pace of the game and drag the man down with him. It was rarely the faster horse that fought better in the mud, Alex was certain he could at least take a game off him like that.
Hm… ‘fit in with his pack’. I wonder if that was some subtle invitation.
Alex doubted it was anything more than just small talk, but the more he talked to the man, the more he was starting to remember about him. Luan had finished near the top of Nightmare’s Rankers, and it spoke highly of his skills that he did so without the backing of a major faction. The Maned Wolves were a fairly small clan compared to other shifters, and if he recalled correctly, he didn’t have their full support either.
Yet for all his prodigious talent, Luan had died before the Invasion had even started. It only figured that Alex didn’t know much about him.
“Solids,” Alex called. He used a follow shot and the cue ball followed its momentum after making contact. He pocketed his first solid, and now the cue ball was lined up for an easy pocket on his number seven. But that ball was also blocking a pocket, so he kept it there and went for another.
Somehow, they’d settled into a strange sort of rhythm. Whoever held the stick was the one who asked the questions. And on that battlefield at least, slowing the pace was not the answer.
“Is your group one of the ‘world leaders’ who caused all this?” Alex asked.
The mood seemed to shift.
“The Maned Wolves were the very first to support the Integration. What about it?”
“Why?” Alex snarled.
“Why not? Now take your damn shot kid.”
Alex did. He sank a third ball with a bank shot, though it left him with no clear follow ups to continue his streak. Luan scratched his head and sighed.
“Terraformation, mostly,” he said, “There’s other reasons, but it came at a good time for us. We’d been in talks with some neutral organizations about setting up a wildlife preserve, but those fell through and with the deforestation we would’ve died out sooner or later. Don’t expect an apology from me, kid. I look after my own.”
Alex frowned as if only half of that made sense to him, then he slowly worked his way down from anger to an even more sullen acquiescence. It was about what he’d expected to hear, all told. Terraformation was a common reason for most shifter clans, and he couldn’t say it was entirely without reason.
Annoyingly, Alex deemed it necessary to put a slight quiver in his stroke, as if he were still holding back his anger. But it was a safety shot and the purpose was to put the cue ball somewhere unsavory for the man. It didn’t need a whole ton of accuracy.
Still, I never knew about the preservation efforts. Is that why he’s so good at billiards?
Alex had half a mind to gander that it was also the reason Luan didn’t have all the Maned Wolves at his back. It had seemed nonsensical from an outside perspective that a small clan wouldn’t back such a prodigious talent, but if it was because he’d been ‘fraternizing with the humans’ then he could see that happening. A wildlife preserve on that scale would’ve taken years of networking to set up, and a lot of shifter clans could be oldminded like that.
And standing across from the man, Alex couldn’t help but wonder. If he’d had his clan’s support…
Ahh… What a waste.
He relished the fact that his tactics had thrown Luan off his game though. Or perhaps it had been the question itself.
In any case, the man attempted a jump shot to have the cue ball circumvent the blockade Alex had set up. And he’d landed it too. Just… not with enough proper execution for it to be legal. Alex didn’t hesitate to call foul on the man for it, he was eager for the advantage. Oh, and still spiteful that he’d caused the apocalypse, important to let that leak through.
Not that the System is known for its bright alternatives.
Luan handed Alex the cue ball and he placed it where he pleased.
He pocketed one ball, then placed another safety shot to block the eight ball from its nearest pocket. Unless Luan was a magician he wouldn’t be getting a run-out and finishing the game with just his next turn. But wisely, Alex still decided not to ask any questions in hopes that the man would go easy on him when he held the stick. Then he watched as Luan finished his turn with a five-pocket run.
Those hopes were immediately crushed. “I told you I can smell fear, didn't I?”
Alex stiffened and Luan thumbed his nose again, a playful scowl there. “And I’ve never smelt it so thick as when you sat across the table from Yuxuan. Which would make sense if you’d known who he was, but you claim you don’t. Alex, are you really normal?”
Alex struggled not to wince.
Yes. I am.
But he was pretty certain by now that the man couldn’t smell truth from a lie, he’d need more than that if he wanted Luan to believe him.
“No,” Alex said, “Not truly. Ever since I was young I’ve had a… kind of a sixth sense. I can tell when bad things are going to happen before they ever do. Or when a person is dangerous or poses a threat to me. That man… I’ve never felt it so intensely as when I stared into his eyes.”
Those blood red, demonic eyes. Alex grimaced, and cut his wandering mind short of its dark path.
For all intents and purposes, it wasn’t really what Luan wanted to know. Alex was at the peak of nightmare, of course he had inborn talents. He was curious about his affiliations, not about his dangersense, but he could just feign ignorance on that part.
This… isn’t too risky, he reminded himself.
Alex didn’t like letting people know about his dangersense, but Luan didn’t seem like the type to talk. and even if he had reason to let Alex’s information spill, he didn’t have many allies to blab to. The secret would likely die with him in the South Americas before long, none the wiser.
He still didn’t like how vulnerable it made him feel. Alex pocketed his fifth cue ball and called, “Middle pocket.”
He shot the Eight ball in after it, gripping the cue stick tightly. He had to give up something in this exchange, but it just felt wrong telling anyone he didn’t trust about that. It made him want to scream.
Forget the skill gap. Alex was going to take those two balls Luan spotted him and shove them where the light didn’t reach. They were tied now, and he’d take this two-game handicap bullshit with glee. He was going to make the man eat his words with this next win. Dead currency or not, that money was his. He fucking swore it.
Alright, let’s relax now. He’s already opened the floodgate for politics, we can use that.
“So,” Alex started as he set the rack for Luan, “There’s twenty-three people here that are cooler than me, and they’re probably better at pool too.”
It wasn’t a question, and the last part wasn’t the slightest bit true, but it was as clear an invitation as Alex would give him. He’d either state his reason for being here or he wouldn’t.
“Mmh,” the man grunted as if he didn’t disagree with the statement, “And I already know most of them. Or at least don’t have trouble placing the factions of the ones I don’t. There’s only two people here who are unfamiliar to me, and one of them hasn’t left the food hall since the gathering started! You don’t disrupt a man when he’s feasting.”
Ah, him. Yeah, I’d imagine he’s still in there.
Luan sighed, “To get to the point, I’m looking for allies. My clan is as old as the hills themselves, but we’re a lot less established in today’s climate and that needs to change. No one really knows what the Integration will bring, and if I can’t find allies within the factions then I’ll have to look without.”
Alex found himself kind of impressed. Despite the man’s gruff demeanor he was actually quite the forward thinker, and not just by the standards of shifters.
“Looking for me?”
Alex lifted the wooden rack from the array of balls, a sly smirk on his face.
“Hah! Don’t flatter yourself pup, you’re a long way from making something of yourself. Something that isn’t a corpse at least! If you survive? then come find me. You’re good for a game of pool if not anything else! Though I’d like to see you try your hand at sinuca.”
He barked some laughter at his insults, then quickly took his break shot. A few follow-up shots saw him with three solids in pocket before his turn ended. And perhaps he did have some decency to him, as he hadn’t asked any questions this time after what Alex had revealed to him with the last.
His mind for strategy was as blunt as ever, however. And Alex was starting to think it wasn’t that he was incapable of playing smart billiards, just that he didn’t care to. He didn’t need to, really, when his skills alone were enough to coast him through this match up.
Brazil, huh. It’s a long ways out just for a game of–
Alex froze.
He quickly smoothed the reaction over, taking his shot.
‘Just for a game of pool’ my ass. Fuck me, why didn’t I think about this more clearly?
The terraformation had actually done well for the Maned Wolves, Alex knew. Too well.
They’d received the kind of good fortune that got the whole world looking at your territory and their eradication had been a ruthless and efficient slaughter. Over the course of just a single week, a shifter clan of ancient roots had been completely wiped out. No survivors.
Luan wasn’t weak, Alex knew that. His reputation had grown to the magnitude that the Maned Wolves could no longer be ignored by the world. And even when he'd faced overwhelming force on all sides, alongside the friction within his own clan—even when he’d had so few allies to his name—Luan had managed to hold out an entire week. And from that perspective it was an astounding amount of time.
By the end of that week, the clan’s sudden disappearance wasn’t something that could be quietly swept under the rug. It’d become known that something valuable had been found in their territory, even if what exactly it was didn’t make the rounds until much later. But if Alex wanted the Integration to go his way…
Yeah, looks like I’ll need to take this game more seriously after all.
“How about a bet,” Alex said.
“A bet? You act like my ten Real bill is worth nothi--”
“If you win this game,” Alex interrupted, “I’ll come visit you, and I’ll bring a gift equal to the entire fortune of your clan.”
“Hah! And where--”
“But if I win, you’ll come visit me, and you’ll help in a task of my choosing.”
Luan snarled, a low pitch growl rising in his throat with a furious temper. “I do not take disrespect lightly, pup. Do not interrupt your betters. You can take your shoddy bet and shove it up--”
I swear these terms on my True Name.”
He stopped cold at the mention. His expression was blank and Alex simply gestured to the table, as if to say they should let that decide who was whose better.
You did not challenge a shifter’s authority, he knew. Not if you wanted to survive. But if you wanted them to follow your commands then there was no way around it.
“You’re a wolf in sheep's clothing, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then I’ll swear on mine as well,” he growled, “You hope you have the skills to back this up, because I’m not going easy anymore.”
Yeah, I know.
Personally, Alex would’ve likened himself to a sheep in wolf's garb, but he didn’t bother with the correction. Luan calling him a wolf was either an acknowledgement of high respect or a sign of extreme distaste, and he didn’t care which, both were equally dangerous.
But you risk nothing, you gain nothing. It was the way of the house. Alex turned his attention back towards the game.
This game had been Luan’s turn to break, and after Alex had controlled the pace of the last game by creating a cluster, the man had made certain to hit his breakshot hard, spreading both solids and stripes to the far corners of the table. It would be hard for Alex to slow the game by this point with his safety shots.
Additionally, the arrangement benefitted Luan more since he was a far more accurate shot than Alex. And given that the man just spent his last turn dealing with the only real clusters he had, he was a straight five-ball run from ending this game. Something he was no doubt capable of once it became his turn.
Alex was also a five-ball run away from the same, thanks to his handicap, but that didn’t hold the same weight for him as it did for Luan.
Once, during a time when Alex hadn’t been so rusty, perhaps he might’ve gone for it anyways.
Yet, although his mind was sharper now, his muscles didn’t know the game the way his eyes did. He could see countless routes to his victory, but he knew that somewhere before that fifth shot he would take a miss.
No, if he wanted to make certain he didn’t flub any shots then he would have to clear one end of the table and then the other. And so that’s what he did. Starting with the far end.
Alex coated his cue tip in chalk, positioned himself, lined his shot, and then took it. He sank two balls consecutively, the second with a carom shot that inadvertently pocketed one of Luan’s balls as well, making things easier for the man.
Oops.
Of course, never one to be defeated by mindset, Alex still attempted his five-ball run-out. He took a bank shot that ricocheted off two cushions and… surprisingly, made contact. He watched, pensive as his striped ball rolled slowly… ever so slowly towards the far corner. And then it did something magical. It went in.
Wait… maybe I can actually– oh.
He flubbed his next shot.
“Hah!” Luan exclaimed, “Scared me for a second there. Though… I can’t help feeling a little disappointed. You do realize this is my win now right?”
He pocketed his ball as he said it.
“All that talk about a wolf in sheep’s… I’m actually feeling kind of embarrassed that I said that now.”
Another ball went down. Luan only had three more to go now, thanks to Alex’s earlier aid. And damn did he know how to trash talk.
“Hell, what does a human know about true names anyways? If you spat that out just because you heard it somewhere, then be careful where you use it. Vampires don’t take the mention kindly.”
Alex watched in slow motion as Luan’s cue tip collided with the ball. He replayed the memory with torturous detail as the man scored once again. He continued until the timing of the strike was deeply ingrained in his mind.
“And just because–”
“I know where your ancestors hid the burial grounds,” Alex said.
—Cli-clink!
Silence passed between them as the ball’s momentum died only a few feet from where the cue tip whiffed it.
Luon draped his hand tiredly over his face. Alex expected him to be angry, or to react with hostile suspicion. Neither were ideal for him, but this was the only way he could see himself winning. It was worth whatever hard feelings it might’ve brought.
But instead Luan simply muttered time out under his breath and approached the bar.
“No, the whole bottle please.”
When he returned, he met Alex’s gaze with hard eyes. “Normal my ass. How the hell do you know about that?”
“You had your time for questions.” Alex said, gesturing to the cue stick, “And it doesn’t matter how I know. What matters is how this information can benefit you. I know the importance of true names, so believe when I swear again, it will benefit you.”
Luan frowned, took another swig, then sighed. “You still have to win first.”
Although he said that, Alex noted that he hadn’t timed back in yet so he could win. They both looked at the pool board, then at each other with an expression that cut through the bullshit.
“Hahh…” he sighed, “looks like it’s a tie then.”
“A tie?” Alex sputtered, “How do you expect to–”
He was interrupted as Luan’s gruff hand slapped the high top table. He grabbed his 10 Real bill and shoved it into his pocket.
“I concede the bet,” he said, “But don’t think you can take my mone–”
The man’s words cut off as he suddenly disappeared.
Your Queue to meet with the Constellations has moved up!
[6/6]
Expected wait time: forty-one minutes.
Alex sighed. Then he grabbed his own two-dollars and change from the table, returning it to his inventory. He tried putting the table itself in there as well, but as expected it didn’t work.
How unsatisfying.
No, he won where it mattered, nevermind the money. He had forty-one minutes now, more or less, and he had to decide what to do with it.
A part of him wanted to just spend that time bumming around the casino, but he squashed that voice. There was one other room he still had to visit. One he’d believed even less than ‘Olympic Swimming Pool’ when he’d seen it on the list.
[Room 44 - Smithy]
***
Hey folks, Kraze here. Elessar is a bit busy so I'm the one posting. That does unfortunately mean no floof pic this time. Apologies for the delay on this chapter btw, both of us are still figuring out what kind of schedule and pacing works out for writing this story. We'll give you an update once we have a better idea.
Comments
Viax
Whiskey and orange juice sounds disgusting
Nicholas Del Rossi
He maintained himself as inconspicuous to everyone minus the shifter, and that only after his gambling instinct took over and he saw a chance to win big by getting a favor from the shifter and move his way as a result he did give away that there’s more to him than meets the eye he did so with only one other person someone he had a decent read on and tickled his gambling fancy. It was extremely strategic, but in the sense of a gambler, trying to win it all, moreover as someone who doesn’t understand pool at all, I think the writing to explain the game itself both as a metaphor And competition was marvelous. It touched on just enough that I understood what was going on, but didn’t set requirements for previously knowing the game. It had a great atmosphere and the interaction between those two characters the way he begins to learn more about the shifter as they go on and reveals more about himself to the shifter as he makes his plans just amazing, and really flushed out the world. There was so much exposition there that didn’t even feel like exposition when I was reading it.
OpN
This didn't really feel like a banger like was promised earlier. His interactions with Luan didn't inspire any confidence in his ability to maneuver socially or his ability to lay low. Despite how planned his every move was, it may have made him seem weaker, or mundane, but he kinda spoiled it with his abnormal knowledge of Luans' secrets. It felt like the culmination of his goals was moot after he made a mysterious move like that. Why would someone who's trying to be inconspicuous, but not too inconspicuous play at being an unknown factor when he was trying to avoid that exact scenario by giving people an impression as to who he was?
