#bergen_county

"Naw. Got no where else to be." A touch darkly. "What kind of dice? I only used 'em in boardgames and RPGs."

He opens his hand to show simply enough, a couple 6-siders, or as mundanes call them, "dice". 'Basic poker rules. Don't gotta. Just a way to pass the time. Unless you want to eat chocolates and cry about your feelings." Somewhat sardonic.

"Yeah, ok. Just... take me through a game, so I can see it. Then we'll play."

He walks him through the basics of dice poker. It's pretty much the same as with cards. Two pair beats nothin, which is beat by 3 of a kind, which is beat by a full house, but without straights or Flush since there are no suits...

"... and four of a kind would beat everything?"

"Other than 5 of a kind." Digging deeper into a pocket, he brings out a dice bag - well, it says Crown Royal - and tips a handful out. "Pick 5 six-siders, so you can't say I cheated by giving you loaded dice." A wry grin.

He looks over the collection. "If I'd have known I'd have brought my own, for you to pick." He selects 5, seeming to prefer jewel tones but will also take 'cool-death' die.

A flash of interest in his glance. "Didn't know you were much of a gamer. Had tagged you as a jock." Mentally reassessing a little, as he picks 5 of his own.

"I am. But I game too. I don't like video so much though; it's all just shooting, and there's no.... like.... personal touch. I mean, like, no contact, really."

"You'd be surprised. I've managed to muse over the internet. It's definitely tougher... much harder to tell if someone is who they say they are, as far as that really matters. But you can still inspire some great stuff, even if you don't have a physical copy of... say, a screenplay in your hands, being the first person to read what someone wrote can still give you that good shit over the wires."

Adam shrugs. "I can't muse, so."

"Can't you?" A small snort. "Humans are great at musing, themselves or others. Just most of them can't SEE the glamour or use it, doesn't mean it's not THERE."

"Well. Been trying, ok?" tensely.

"Geez, calm down. You ever hear anyone trying to inspire an artist start by, "first, make sure you're tense as hell."

"Not every person is good at musing. Not even every FAE is good at musing. Hell, I kinda suck at it. You may have realized, my bedside manner is not the... best." A dry expression. "That's why I try online a bit... and have better luck spooking it out of folk, like scaring the piss out of them but with glamour instead of a puddle. Gentle encouragement and persuasion ain't my bag."

Adam shrugs again. "From what everyone has described, the closest I've come is during a basketball game, so a snowball's chance in hell of that happening again anytime soon."

A shrug. "Not sure why it's so important to you. You have your thane work, even if the cabbie biz is slow. That should keep you in enough glam to get by."

"Not really a thane. I don't get juice from it or anything."

"And you know you'll get a cut of this game as well, if it pans out. 40/60 sound fair? I gotta cut Lovecraft in. What do you mean, not really? The Chief appointed you, didn't she? Not like she'd be called a liar. And no, you don't -get- juice from that, but if you work at the lodge, the lodge will keep you juiced up. You've earned Bale access, etcetera."

"Nope. Just people started calling me that. Yeah, 40/60 sounds right."

"Huh. Okay." He shrugs, not pressing the point. "If even DIRK can get on the payroll, I don't see why you couldn't as well. But your call." Leaning forward, he watches with narrowed eyes as a random couple moves through the parking lot, heading for a car. "Pfft. Not even wearing masks." Symon's own mask is dangling off his neck.

Adam glances out, fidgiting the dice in his hand. "Yeah. So what -is- a thane? Officially?"

"Traditionally? Among mortals, it would be a landholder, like a minor noble. Old English... or maybe it was Germanic? Translated it more like "warrior". My best understanding as far as Fae goes is that it would be like an official guardian. Paul Blart, Lodge Cop."

A snort. "Yeah, ok. Definitely not."

"They put a pooka in the position, so it can't be TOO demanding.."

Adam thinks about it. "Wait, the dog pooka? Not Connor, the woman? Kind of ripped? Hard core?"

"Yeah, that's Thane Tiffany."

"Well, she's not, like..... I mean, she's pretty hard core."

"Yeah, maybe. Pooka kinda weird me out. I never know what they're trying to say. They say you can trust a pooka, just never believe them, but I just find it easier to keep my distance. Plus, not really a fan of being pranked."

"Word." As forceful and energetic as Symon has heard the mortal be so far. "I mean... they tell me I should just forgive Eden, she can't help it, blah blah blah.... but that shit sucked."

A blink at the sudden enthusiasm. "What'd she do to you? I got guilt tripped because apparently she wanted to go out with me. RIGHT. Like anyone's interested in this. I still think it was some prank." A small scowl.

Adam shrugs. "I can see it, but.... nah, she .... I guess it was a prank? Right after I moved here. Made my basketball turn into this violent spider-thing; messed with my head. They said she tried to apologize but.... "

"Ugh. I like bugs, but.. in their place. Even I'd be freaked if suddenly, say, my computer turned into a giant cockroach."

"Exactly."

He rattles the dice in his hand.

Symon gives his a rattle, then scatters them on the dashboard, hands cupped to keep them from escaping.

/roll 5d6

He sets the two 3's aside, and rolls again.

/roll 3d6

"4 of a kind. Your roll."

"Fuck."

/roll 5d6

/roll 5d6

A smirk. "Should have held onto that three and the fours. You'd have had a full house. Couldn't predict it, though."

"Yeah. Ok, your turn."

/roll 5d6