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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 2, 2021 9:11:50 GMT
Green eyes flickered over the top of a hand of cards, glancing at the dealer as he laid down the last card. They quickly flickered over to the other two gentlemen at the table, one that clearly didn't have a poker a face, and the other that was sitting just as quietly as Isabel was. Unlike them, she couldn't talk, unless she gave herself away.
Her eyes flickered back to the dealer as he called out the last card. Her face was blank, but on the inside, she was smirking with smug satisfaction. Win again. She placed her cards down, hearing none pokerface man groan, as he tossed his cards down in defeat. The other gentleman lazily flung his cards down, and Isabel took another pull from her cigarette before moving her hand to the ashtray and put it out as the dealer announced her the winner. With the hand over, he slid her the winnings, and she decided to call it a night as she gathered her chips up. Nodding in thanks, before she stood.
The chips easily went into the small pouch she carried and she made her way to the cashout canner. Placing the chip bag up, she waited until they counted her money and then handed her the paper bills. She folded them up quickly, reaching up and grabbing the rim of the bowler's hat she wore, and nodded in thanks before she slipped from the counter. Of the men present, she was probably the shortest and more slender "man" in the room.
The room was dark, yet lit enough to still see by. The gaming hell as it was called wreaked of smoke, sweat, and booze. Deep male voices filled and echoed the room along with the sound of their victories, losses, and the sound of the various games being played. Isabel liked to come out in her disguise at least once a month, going to the various other hells. She made sure never to hit the same one twice in a row for fear of someone catching on to her own game, and the fact she was a woman dressed as a man.
She was wearing a pair of dark trousers, a vest, a white shirt that had once been white but had become a faint grey, with a dark brown jacket over it. She didn't wear a corset underneath. Instead, her chest was wrapped in a cloth bandage to flatted her chest as much as she good to help her blend in. She'd smudged some dirt on her cheeks to dull her feminine features and added a fake mustache for good measure. She never spoke to anyone, and if she did she had to force her voice to go deep. Many thought she was a young man given her size, which she was fine with.
She was calling it a night, having won several rounds of blackjack and sitting in on a game of poker, she decided it was time she snuck on home. She always left earlier than when everyone normally called it a night so she had less chance of getting followed or spoken to. She went up the stairs, down a hallway, and came out onto a street. Keeping her pace easy and light she walked down a few feet before turning into an alley where her pace picked up and she sighed a bit in relief. A small smirk appearing on her face as she reached up and pealed the mustache off of her upper lip, placing it in one of the inner pockets of her jacket before she reached up and grabbed the bowler's hat, pulling it off her head. Long, wavy brown hair came spilling out of it, and she reached up, running a hand through her hair, and fluffing it a bit as she continued down the alley. Not realizing she had been followed.
Mr. Jeckyll
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 2, 2021 20:35:15 GMT
Clyde wasn't much for gambling. Or, that's what he told people, anyway, when they tried to encourage him to sit and play with them in the gambling hells. What he'd rather do was tell them that he didn't gamble with trash like them, but then, telling the customers what they really were wasn't good for business. So he just smiled that thin smile and told them he wasn't much of a gambling man.
He preferred to gamble with higher stakes.
So, while the others were playing cards, Clyde Jeckyll was playing a game of cat and mouse. He was the cat, of course, with his sharp eyes and sharper claws. And this one, the man who didn't drink too much, didn't chat and taunt with the others, the one whose mustache didn't leave a hint of stubble along his jaw...that one was the mouse. Clyde had been watching him the last time he showed up at this joint, too--nobody won at blackjack that often. He'd practically grown up in this piss-stained den of addicts, he knew a cheat when he saw one. The only problem was, he couldn't decide how the skinny man was doing it. He didn't have any cards in his pockets, wasn't bribing the dealer… Well, tonight was the night to find out.
He lingered a little longer in the room after his man left, draining the last of his glass of scotch. One...two...three… Ready or not, here I come.
He stepped into the alley, silent as a hunting cat, just in time to watch his man peel off the fake mustache. Disguise, huh? Why hide your face unless you really were there to clean the place out? He quickened his step and reached for the man's shoulder, just as he removed his hat. That soft brown hair spilled right down onto his hand as he grabbed the woman's shoulder and pulled her roughly backward.
"I'd like a word with you, miss."
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 3, 2021 8:56:36 GMT
She should have been smarter. Been more prepared, always cautious. She should have known her luck was going to run out. Eventually, someone was going to figure out her game and try to confront her. Even if she changed up each Hell for every month, it was bound to happen, she knew it and yet had denied it.
The kitty was going to find however, the little mouse it was trying to catch was not going to be played with. On the contrary, the mouse was going to fight back, and fight back she did. The moment she felt the hand on her shoulder and that voice before she was jerked backward; The self defense lessons Isabel had taken kicked in. Before the bowlers hat even hit the ground, she reached up with both hands, grabbing the forearm of the man. She yanked his arm forward, bending her self forward so she could use the momentum and essentially throw him over her shoulder.
Keeping ahold of his arm, she gave his wrist a sharp twist, putting pressure on the pressure point, while those green eyes looked down her nose at the man she now stood over. In the next second she was reaching into the inner part of her jacket and pulled out a knife. Having stitched a knife sheath on the inner pocket. She twirled it between her fingers as she arched an eyebrow. "You already said your word. Sir." She remarked. Tilting her head to the side slightly while some strands of her hair fell forward. She looked suspiciously at him. Her face was blank rather than the narrowed eyes. On the inside, her heart was racing. She'd never wanted to put the self defense to use, and for a brief moment a coldness went down her spine thinking of Richard and why she had to learn it in the first place.
Her hand tightened on the handle. She kept a hold of his wrist, not yet wanting to let him go for fear of what he might do. "What do you want?" she inquired. Her tone was sharp, showing she wasn't going to mess around as her grip tightened on his wrist.
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 4, 2021 1:10:30 GMT
"Wha--"
Clyde found himself being hurled over the woman, with a grunt of displeasure and surprise as her shoulder hit him in the gut and knocked the air out of him for a moment. Just as abruptly, he was on the ground, with his wrist bent at an uncomfortable angle.
For a moment, he just gaped at her. She was quick, stronger than she looked, and halfway-pretty without the caterpillar on her lip. He'd like a better look, without the dirt and the darkness to hide her.
"You already said your word. Sir."
An incredulous smile spread across his face as she flipped out a knife as well, and by the time she spoke again, he was laughing. True laughter, a rare thing for him.
"You're just full of surprises, aren't you, love? I like that." He remarked, smiling at her for a moment longer before he wiped the mirth from his face and glanced over at his wrist.
"You might want to let me go, though, if you like having skin on that hand." His tone was as flat as his face, all business.
He channeled his magic there, raising his temperature higher and higher. Within seconds, his skin would be hot enough to boil water. This had been difficult to learn, making it hot enough to burn without just igniting things. It was so much easier to just let the flames have their way. But he meant what he'd said; he liked this one. Setting her on fire would be rather disappointing.
She held on longer than he'd expected, longer than some grown men. A twitch tugged the sides of his mouth, but he maintained the bored expression.
Once she dropped his wrist, he merely straightened his sleeve and checked that his cufflinks were still attached. He stayed where he was, on the ground, rather than get in her personal space. After all, they were on his turf, and he still had a few tricks up his (thankfully undamaged) sleeve. No need to posture. He simply pulled up his legs enough to rest his forearms on them as he looked up at her.
"As for what I want--it's not so much about me. It's about you cheating the house. My boss doesn't appreciate that."
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 4, 2021 1:41:05 GMT
A small smirk reached Isabel’s lips, but it never reached her narrowed eyes as the man smiled up her. From what she could see so far in the dark ally, he had sharp angular features. Not what constituted as a handsome man to some, he had more of that rough and tumble appearance, and smelled of blood,sweat, murder, and smoke. Trouble with a capital T. Her hand on the knife only tightened more.
“You’re in store then mate, I’ve got a whole bag of surprises.” She said dryly. She didn’t want trouble, simply wanted to be on her way before John noticed her absence. She watched as his expression turned more serious as he told her she might want to let him go. For a moment she didn’t know what he meant until she could feel the sudden warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Magic user. She realized. Despite his warning, Isabel didn’t let go. Not until it was unbearable, and her brain forced her to let go because he was hurting her.
She hissed and released him, baring her teeth for a second. Prepared for him to jump up and attack or something. She didn’t have to look at her hand to know it was burned. The nerves screamed in pain, however she just clenched her hand tightly together while she gritted her teeth. Watching the man suspiciously as she stood her ground. He merely staid put, bringing his legs up so he could rest his forearms on them, and Isabel took a step back, glancing up and down the alley to make sure he didn’t have friends.
“Cheating?” She asked. Scoffing at the idea. “I’m not a cheat.” She told him. Was counting cards considered cheating or just being resourceful and too smart for the game? Either way, Isabel didn’t like what he was implying. He could talk, and now that he knew she was a woman, it would make it so she never visited this gaming hell again. She’d have to be careful of the others now as well. Just her fucking luck… She’d lose her one escape from the world thanks to this man, and her mood soured even more. “Don’t believe in luck?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 4, 2021 1:55:17 GMT
Clyde raised an eyebrow at her disdain. Not a cheat? And how was that? She certainly wasn't relying on Lady Luck to fill her purse. There was no way. So why in the hell was she so pissed, then? Spoken like a real lady, all offended at him for calling out the truth.
Her question, though, struck him as funny.
“Don’t believe in luck?”
He couldn't help it, his grin was returning as he looked up at her. "No. Chance, sure. But not luck. Chance isn't good or bad, love, it just is. You play games of chance; you win some and you lose some. You weren't losing." He drew a cigarette from his inner pocket, tucked it into the side of his mouth, then offered her one.
"You don't seriously expect me to buy that shite, do you?" he asked, raising his brow at her. A smirk still tugged at the corner of his mouth as he wanted to see if she'd take the cigarette. It was a challenge, sure, but it was also a peace offering. If the woman wanted to gamble, he didn't have any objections so long as she played fair.
Plus, he wanted to know if she smoked.
"If you're no cheat, then how d'you explain the fact you just walked away from a gambling den with a full purse?"
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 4, 2021 2:22:59 GMT
Isabel kept her face as even as she could. On the inside she was terrified. If she could avoid being alone with a man, she did it, and here she was...Alone in an alley with a strange man that could probably burn her to a crisp if he so wished. She arched a brow at him as he said it was chance, rather then luck. She couldn’t help the unlady like snort then, as he talked about her not losing. I’ve lost plenty. She wanted to say, but instead just kept her mouth shut. Her green eyes continued to watch him carefully as he pulled out a cigarette for himself and then held one out to her.
Since he was staying put so far, she lowered the knife but didn’t put it away. “I expect you to believe what your eyes tell you.” She told him, raising both brows at him as he raised one at her. She eyed offered cigarette, contemplating if she should take it for not, but since he wasn’t doing anything then sitting there asking his questions, she decided the tobacco could calm her nerves.
She reached out with her burned hand, her upper lip twitching in discomfort as she uncurled her clenched fingers and slowly took it from. “Don’t suppose you have a light?” She asked coyly. She actually had her own smokes and matches in her pockets, but since he was offering…
She squatted down, placing the cigarette between her lips, not answering his question until her cigarette was lit. She tucked the knife away for the moment, and resting her forearms on her knees while she leaned over for her bowlers hat. Dusting it off while she took a pulled from the cigarette and placed it up on her head lightly. She eyed the man then, taking two fingers and gently holding the cigarette between them before tilting her chin up slightly and blew out the smoke. Feeling the tobacco do its job in calming her nerves. She canted her head to the side before bringing the cigarette back to her lips while she looked thoughtful for a second.
Pulling the cigarette from her mouth once more before she pointed it at him casually. “Easy,” She arched her eyebrows up as a coy smile appeared on her face while she leveled her gaze with his. “Men don’t use their heads, and the heads they do use... doesn’t require thinking.” She took a drag from the cigarette, and gave the man a look to tell her differently. She was surrounded by men daily, had two brothers, and two perfectly good ears. There was something a lady should never about. Especially one that wasn’t married yet, yet Isabel Maddox was not like most women, and she was far from innocent.
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 4, 2021 2:40:45 GMT
Good. She was doing well, so far, although she'd be a fool if she weren't aware of the danger she was in. She played it cool, though, like she had it all under control. He didn't miss the tiny flinch, though, when she uncurled her burnt hand. She'd need a salve for it if she wanted it to heal properly. Perhaps it was ironic that the man who caused the burns knew just as well how to treat them.
Clyde's grin lingered as she dropped into a crouch so he could light it. Did he have a light? Funny.
He knew he was showing off, but hey, she'd set him up for this one. He snapped his fingers, and a flame lingered on his thumb as if he'd lit a match. He lit her cigarette, then his own, before letting the flame go out.
He took a long drag on his own cigarette as he watched her gesture with hers, those pretty lips turning up into a smile. She was growing on him, he decided. Maybe she'd be of use to Randal and--no, actually, scratch that. He wouldn't put anyone he actually liked under Randal's thumb. But she could be a good connection for him, at least. Or perhaps just an interesting acquaintance.
He let the smoke drift lazily from his lips as she insulted him and his whole sex. Her remarking on sex didn't shock him in the slightest. Not much did, these days. He'd seen it all. And, frankly? She had a point. She wasn't entirely correct, of course, but she wasn't entirely wrong, either.
"A good chunk of men, sure. Definitely the ones in there," He jerked his chin back at the door to the gambling den. "But some of us... " He tapped his temple. "Some of us have learned to make use of the brains God saw fit to give us when he tossed us into this hellhole."
He looked back to her, squinting at her for a moment as he took her answer a bit more seriously. He'd heard some people could keep track of the cards as they were played, and sure, he'd thought about what cards the others must have while playing poker with Cillian and a few of the others, but to do it perfectly...that would be really something.
"You mean to tell me you just...gamed the game? No hidden cards, signals from the dealer, marked cards...nothin?"
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 4, 2021 3:03:19 GMT
Dark brows rose with his point, and Isabel turned her head slightly to prove she had to be in agreement with him. She watched him tap his temple as she took another pull from her cigarette. John and Nic weren’t dumb either, so she supposed she couldn’t insult everyman with a cock, but a great deal of them weren't verysmart.
Smoke came out with a small huff of laughter and a shake of her head. Right, God. Funnyman God. “God or the Devil?” She asked. “Far as I’m concerned God doesn’t give gifts.” She muttered. She could practically hear Nic tisking at her, and shooting her a sad glare. Unlike her church fairing brother, Isabel spent a lot of time questioning their higher power. If she was being honest, she spent a great deal angry at him. If got did exists then why had possessed him to make a man like Richard Farquaad that did nothing but lie, cheat, and beat women? Some merciful God…
“It’s how you survive. Some are better at it than others.” She remarked. She tapped her finger against the side of the cigarette, watching the ash drift away. She blew smoke through her nose before her green eyes settled on the man. “If I tell you my secrets, Mr…?” She asked for his name as she rose to her feet. “How do you expect me to come back to play for more?” She inquired. Telling him she counted cards would surely put her on a list, and she’d never be able to play here again. Her green eyes looked down at him, as she crossed an arm over her chest, grabbing her elbow of her other arm while she drew from the cigarette. “No hidden cards, signals, or marked cards.” She confessed.
“I listen to what my eyes tell me.” She said simply.
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 4, 2021 3:35:59 GMT
Huh. Smarter than he'd thought, even, if she knew better than to think God was generous. Add another point to the lady's column. Funny, that. He'd come out here expecting to discipline a man, and here he was making friends with a woman.
"Call me Clyde. Anyone worth talking to does." He glanced back at the door again as he rose to his feet. No one else had come after them yet, which was good--for both of them. He assumed she was smart enough to hear that he was already separating her from the riffraff. The last thing he needed was for anyone else to hear him do it.
He watched her face carefully as she answered about the hidden cards, signals, et cetera. She didn't flinch away, no shrugging or shaking her head. She seemed to be telling the truth. And if he didn't have any proof she was cheating...then he didn't have to give her a hard time, right? Call it letting her off with a warning.
"Well, love, I think your eyes ought to be telling you to lose a few more hands here and there. Have a bad run once in a while. And for fuck's sake, relax a little. Buy a drink." He looked away, flicking the ash off his cigarette into the shadows. "I might be the first to catch on, but if you want me to be the last, you've got to be believable."
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 4, 2021 3:59:56 GMT
Clyde. He surprisingly looked like a Clyde. She made sure to note the special treatment. Maybe tonight was lucky in a way, if he was giving her the name only those worth talking too called him. She was trying to judge if he was just some other gambler, or whether or not he was tied to the gaming hell.
She tapped her finger against the Cigarette again, blowing out smoke. Doing the mindless task that came with smoking. Her brow raised as she realized he was giving her advice on how to stay under the radar. She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, wondering what he was playing at. A humorless chuckle came forth. Right, Isabel Maddox would relax in a room full of strange men when pigs flew. “Spirits cloud the mind. Make it impossible to think. Devil’s drink so I’ve heard.” She said casually. Thinking about all the sins one could commit. “We all have our vices…” Nic had told her more than once. “But noted, Mr. Clyde.”
She declined her head towards him in thanks for the advice. She really was lucky if he was offering advice and being almost pleasant company. She flicked the last of the ash and then blew an ‘o’ with her smoke. She turned and flicked the cigarette to the ground and then put it out with her shoe. “Thanks for the smoke and advice.” She glanced at him then, grabbing the brim of her bowler's hat and then dipping her head at him. “As fun as this chat’s been, I have places to be.” She said with a small smile. She wasn’t dumb and wasn’t going to overstay her welcome. That would put her in more danger, and Isabel didn’t want to be any more a danger magnet than she already was.
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Post by Mr. Jeckyll on Jan 4, 2021 4:19:50 GMT
Clyde chuckled at her evaluation of drinking. Well, one point docked, if she was serious. But fair enough. If she was counting cards, she couldn't exactly be addled while she was doing it.
When she started to wrap up, though, he stayed in her way and looked her right in the eye.
"I've got a job, you know. So bear in mind--If I have to have this chat with you again, it won't be so pleasant for either of us. I hope you take my advice to heart."
He meant it. He wasn't interested in hurting her if he didn't have to. He almost frowned at himself for thinking it, too. Maybe she reminded him of Cel? Or maybe it was more that she reminded him of himself. Wasn't often he had so much in common with a woman. He sighed tersely and ran his free hand through his hair as he stepped out of her way.
"Be careful on your way home, Miss." He emphasized the title since she'd put one on his. "Plenty of nasty things roaming these streets at night."
Something told him--the ache in his tailbone, perhaps?--that she'd be just fine. But that didn't mean she ought to get careless just because she'd made it out of this trap unscathed. There really were plenty of nasty things on the streets, and most of them were less polite than him.
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Post by Isabel Maddox on Jan 4, 2021 4:47:04 GMT
Isabel let her hands casually go into her jacket pockets, putting weight on one leg as she stood there. Appearing carefree, however on the inside she was starting to panic. She didn’t like the fact Clyde was getting in her way, and she heard his underlying threat all too clearly.
Going to need to up your guard, Iz…. She thought to herself. This was a warning, one she would be sure the heed. The Maddox’s already had gone through one hell with the loss of their parents, and now the ventilation situation at the mill. Isabel had enough trouble in her life to suit her just fine for a while, but Clyde was proving to be an added flavor of trouble if she wasn’t careful. Making it clear he worked for whoever ran the gaming hell, and that was not someone she wanted to have the pleasure of meeting.
“I'm a smart woman Clyde, if we meet again, It’ll be far too soon. And if it happens, clearly I didn’t learn my lesson.” She was sure to tell him. She had no intention on meeting the man again if she could help it. This would be a one time encounter, and she would be sure to listen to his warning.
She watched him run his hand through that hair of his and then stepped aside. This time a genuine smile appearing on her face as she smirked at him. “Something tells me you’re the most dangerous thing I’ll be meeting tonight Mr. Clyde.” She said with a flicker of amusement in her eyes. He certainly gave her that impression as she glanced up at him. “Have a pleasant evening.” She nodded at him as she stared to continue down the alley.
If he didn’t stop her, the moment she was around the corner and out of sight, she leaned against the nearest building wall, taking her hat off before running a shaky hand through her hair before she heaved in air. Not knowing that it was pure adrenaline that had gotten her through that encounter, and she wrapped her arms around her self for a moment, feeling herself tremble. “Come on Iz, you’re okay.” She whispered to herself as she took steadying breaths.
When she composed herself, she pushed off the wall, placing her hat back on her head and then started the trek home. Considering she could live with the small slap on the wrist he’d given her, Or...in his case, a burned hand.
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