Devil's Handshake[Social/Closed]

And then there was Jerusalem. There was no intention to do any of the dancing shit anytime soon. If she intended to dance with random people of questionable levels of attraction, then she would need to be drunk and high first. Thankfully, she had the means of doing just that! Yes, these places were known for their supply of illicit substances.

The amethyst-haired woman possessed the perfect means to stave off that pesky sobriety. Tequila and a pill she personally dropped into the drink. Jerusalem was a grown adult; she wasn’t going to let anyone spike her drink—no, she fully intended to beat them to the punch. Gulping down the merry concoction of alcohol and who knew what, she exhaled and continued watching undesirable people act like idiots around her; with luck, she would be intoxicated enough to consider joining them soon. If there was a hotter person around—

Jerusalem seemed to have found one encroaching on her table. Finally.

Turning an eye towards the albino, she tilted her head to the side. A smirk ensued.

”Nope. To whom do I owe the honour?”

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Audrey Iron

”Jerusalem,” she replied, raising her glass to her lips and taking another swig of hard, spiked liquor. It tasted like complete garbage to her, but she did not mind because of how jaded she was to the taste of alcohol, drugs, and other. It burned, but she enjoyed that sensation, and already she felt what little inhibitions she had dissolving like the pill she dropped into her own drink in the first place.

The other woman offered a handshake—to which she accepted. Feeling soft hands, the irony was lost on her for the time being. Until she turned her fingers into iron, then the irony hit her like a bat. Not that it was funny enough to make a joke about. Well, it seemed that she was a mage; not that Jerusalem cared about that detail. Now the fancy mage was fixing wine for them—she could dig that.

When it came to her present thoughts, she wondered what she should say that would get her in the albino named Audrey’s pants the quickest. However, it seemed like the iron user was doing that for her. She didn’t even have to effort.

”Probably not, who knows? Good thing you’re hot and we want the same thing,” she started in response. After emptying the contents of her own glass down her gullet, if permitted she took the wine and refilled. ”So, you and I both are one step ahead in the game. Maybe we should play one. Those are always neat.”

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Audrey Iron | Post 2

”Have to be honest with you here. I was talking about a drinking game, but we can merge them together. Maybe we can stake taking shots if we get some harder shit to drink?”

The woman’s eyes turned towards the cards and the coin placed on the table, and then she took another swig of wine. After drinking spiked tequila, it seemed she had an inherent, strong tolerance to alcohol and drugs. She thought this was annoying, because it made getting intoxicated more expensive than it needed to be. Then again, she was used to almost everything turning out poorly.

After she spoke, she continued. ”Could be poker. Every time you lose a hand, you must take a drink. Sounds kind of interesting, hm? Otherwise, as much as I like strip poker, I have this sneaking suspicion this club is somehow PG-5 in rating. Not that I care, but for some reason I just feel so barred off.”

Well, whatever. Maybe that could be done some other time behind closed doors. She was certain she would be getting through them sometime this evening; that is, if she played these cards right.

Or maybe by just asking at this point.

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Audrey Iron

So, she wanted poker. That was good. Call her cliché, but it was better than playing a game that was borderline completely random, such as Blackjack. Even though she enjoyed Blackjack when she had no stakes to play with. But that made it boring, too. She’d rather just get high and look at abstract art on the wall, maybe see how many shapes it takes and if it turns into a giant tentacle monster or not. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn’t. It depended how much she ate during the day.

Watching her shuffle the cards, she leaned back in her sweat and drank more wine. Maybe she was putting herself at odds through continuously drinking when the stakes were taking shots of hard liquor upon losing a hand. Oh well. The faster she got drunk, the faster she could get to the fun part.

”So, just to get this out of the way—if anything happens after this all, do I have your consent while you’re still sober? I don’t want to wake up in the morning and deal with who knows what, after all. That would suck.”

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Audrey Iron | Post 4

Listening to the woman’s words, she tilted her head to the side. Using her reach, she extended her hand over the table and placed her palm against the albino’s cheek. Lithe fingers combed through her sidelocks while she stroked the side of her face with her thumb. First, she gave her permission through her nod. And without looking at the cards in the process of being dealt facedown, she leaned closer and whispered provocative, telling words into her ear. Indeed, the answer to her question was affirmative.

Pulling back, she leaned into her seat again. She made sure to show with her body language she had not looked at any of the cards, deliberately keeping it so her body was in the way when she leaned over the cards. Unless she had eyes in unseen places, it would be impossible for her to have gained an edge through the whispering.

”It’d be boring to cheat, so rest assured, I saw nothing. I think I made my plans clear, and I won’t hold you at fault—actually, I’m counting on it, Audrey. Let’s have some fun, hm?”

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Audrey Iron | Post 5

Well, it looked like she was screwed. Though Audrey lacked a great hand of her own, she failed to muster up a hand that amounted to anything of equivalent value. Though she didn’t care, she felt that her inadequacy was chalked up to the implement she put in her drink earlier. After all, she played her fair share of poker. Took her awhile to learn the different hands and get used to the rulesets, what with there being six-trillion different ones, but she liked to believe she knew when to bluff and when to fold. Tonight, she didn’t.

Anyway…

Bringing the glass to her lips after the woman poured her another, she drank it down until not a drop remained of it. Running her tongue over her lips to collect the residual wine, she noted that it tasted a lot better than the cheap tequila she consumed earlier. Jerusalem started to feel a bit on the loopy side though; probably something about ingesting weird pills with hard liquor over the span of the night.

”Congrats on that hand.”

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Jerusalem Godfrey | Post 6

Jerusalem had a good poker face. It was her normal face. She often looked deadpan and disinterested as though the world singlehandedly killed all expectations, hopes, dreams, and even trampled on her pet dog Fido. Often, she looked as though when she took Fido to the vet, they told her they didn’t treat the pets of people with purple hair. That was how dead her expression was—it made it easy for her to maintain a poker face.

So, when she saw the temporary elation in Audrey’s face, she had a good idea that she might have a good hand. Maybe the happiness was a bluff itself, but she doubted it. In fact, she didn’t care if that was the case. This seemed like the best course of action in her head, and she was going to do it because she had a spine in her back.

”I fold,” she said, placing the cards down. Well, that was something at least. Maybe if she started getting better hands than greater abilities to see through bluffs, she may be able to turn the tide of the game. Though they were bound for the same outcome anyway. ”Soz about that.”

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Jerusalem Godfrey | Post 7