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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 2:34:14 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Don’t bet what you can’t lose. And don’t bet when the odds are against you.”

Simple common sense but one people overlook in the pursuit of easy riches. He’s no stranger to Mauville pachinko, a fair gambler on occasion when the situation permits, but he views it as a hobby fixed on triggering his dopamine. Any material prize is just a small bonus.

“Dare.”

Fernando calls his option well before looking at his hand, confident enough that even in a loss her first request will be reserved enough he’ll have no regrets. It’s a false assumption to make but none of that matters when he glimpses his face down card.

“Stay,” he calls with a wave of his hand.

There’s some mathematics to be held here but all of that revolves around card counting and acting on a count of sixteen or seventeen. No one hits on twenty; his decision is made the moment she deals him in.

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saoirse quinn

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twenty-eight

october 27th

circhester, galar

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 5:59:18 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

He didn't bet when the odds were against him.

She surmised somewhere in her head that perhaps the odds had not been against Fernando too often in his life, but what did she know. A smirk held a silent, challenging face. Easy for you to say. Just as it was easy for her to think blindly, judging someone she deemed to have had a better run of things.

What was worse was that she was acting as though she’d never tasted that silver spoon, almost as though she’d forgotten. As though less than a decade of crime had earned her enough stripes to cut free her roots. A rich kid, essentially having thrown a tantrum and damned herself to those lesser odds over the actions of others. How edgy. No one had cared.

As a gangster, she’d never heard the end of it, and had been hated by many. They’d called her stupid, and they’d been damn right. Lulu, while she hid it well in her day-to-day life, was dramatic as all fuck.

Dare.

Why? Something to hide, Councilman?

She quickly decided she preferred it, though, a mischievous gleam taking over glassy eyes. Alas, it didn’t stick. She pulled another from the deck and busted.

“Fuck.” She looked up at him, grinning with genuineness again. “Alright, dare.” She felt the need to match him.

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silph

SIR

twenty-nine

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silph co. ceo

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TAG WITH @silph

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 6:16:18 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]Fernando reveals his hand and it’s a straight twenty. Bust aside, there’s fat chance she’ll overcome him on sheer luck alone. Not this early into the game.

“You got social media?” He pauses. “Like actually, I want an account with history long enough that everyone knows it’s authentic.”

He knows what his dare of well ahead of time. Another bet, long unclaimed, is about to be paid in spades. All he needs is a willing party. Fortunately, Lulu doesn’t have an out.

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saoirse quinn

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october 27th

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 6:50:26 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH

SOCIAL

She snorted at him. “Why wouldn’t it be authentic?” Her face twisted amusedly. “Do I look like a troll to you?”

“Call me a liar, but social media’s not my cuppa tea, really. Not for the whole selfies ‘n spotlight rubbish.” She bit her lip and watered it down with tequila. “That was a question, by the way. Aaand… I feel like I’m getting less fun by the minute.” Her face read that she was enjoying herself, though. Just a bit of self-deprecating humor.

A ribbon of smoke floated up between them, and she slid the cards his way, allowing him to shuffle this time. It was his turn to deal.

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silph

SIR

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 7:06:33 GMT

kim cole-essam likes this

[attr="class","spiral"]“You act like you don’t have a burner account.” His retort is ready in spades. It’s a bit combative but only in good fun. It oozes with a sense of teasing as he tries to navigate the mood to something more lax. It’ll help bury his worries about the glock in her drawer. “Is that why you’re freelance?”

He accepts the deck by cutting it in half. Dexterous thumbs run against their edge, allowing them to spill like ill-kept secrets, molding them back into one with each card layered between each other. "Unfortunate for you," he says over the sound of paper flapping, "I want you to upload a risqué selfie—real sexy, the whole she-bang." Not a difficult task for someone of her stature. That's the whole premise of why he even entertained coming back here in the first place.

"And I want you to tag kim cole-essam. His handle is Invader Kim, no spaces. Something about how you love Kim and he's your favorite council member."

Fernando's bet hedges on humiliating Kim for the half a dozen times he's given him the slip. Sure, no one will suspect anything of him from a random civvie, but knowing that his wife might chance upon it and give him an earful is more than enough. Fernando having no tie to it is the perfect topping to the Alcremie.

Fernando deals himself a Jack and a four.

Lulu's sitting on two face cards.

"Truth," he hedges, suspecting he'll lose. He draws a two, and then busts afterwards.

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saoirse quinn

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october 27th

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 7:55:46 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

“I shop for companies, companies don’t shop for me.” This had been loosely true in a convoluted sort of sense for a long time. She blew smoke up towards the light above them, eyeing at the man from down her nose, looking wry. “If I advertised myself, everyone would want a piece.” She had major braggadocio. It wasn’t unwarranted, but that didn’t make it any less toxic.

Another sip, another step further from the path.

She guffawed at him before gradually devolving into hearty, drunken laughter. “I really don’t have one but—” Puff “Goddamn, thanks for the glimpse behind the scenes. You all look so mature on camera.”

Little did Fernando know what fresh hell was right around the corner in the vehicle of a hundred babbling reporters.

A twenty. She bit her lip and bounced on the balls of her feet a moment, and he would glimpse her competitive nature at its most innocent, despite everything. Lulu didn’t ‘play’ often enough. She was depraved.

Her eyes flashed with satisfaction at his loss and then squinted, as she took a moment to think of something. Something not too invasive… What came out was also an utter waste of a work opportunity. She wasn’t thinking about work, though. Actually, she settled on a question that was seemingly juvenile. “If you could have any superpower you could imagine, what would it be?” Nevermind his Avatar status.

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silph

SIR

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 8:06:57 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Then you obviously never paid attention to Kim. Mature is the last word you’d use to describe him, press op or not.”

It goes without saying that out of Hoenn’s council, both current and past, Kim Cole is a man of vivid distinction. The man gives no fucks whatsoever while retaining at least an ounce of common sense. The way he pulls off bullish displays of grandeur without regards for repercussions is head turning. Worst of all, it works. No one else can captivate an audience like he can.

“Tch.” Fernando knows he lost. He doesn’t need her hand to see it. Sixteen is too low to hold onto. Instead of passing the deck over to her, he stacks their cards into a discard pile. It’s easier to count once they filter it down.

“You serious? I’d pick the ability to exhale glitter and sparks without question. Bonus if it smells like a bubble bath.” Two cards each and Fernando looks at his bottom one. This time it’s a three. Far from perfect.

“A toss up between dividing myself up or being able to bestow half my intelligence to others.” The distaste in his voice matches his hand. It’s another loss. “Lord knows we need it. Dare, by the way.”

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saoirse quinn

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october 27th

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 8:43:23 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

Was it surprising that Lulu didn’t pay attention to politics?

Her red eyes rolled and she shook her head, hissing. “Come on.” Was this revenge, maybe?

He came out with it, and his answer didn’t disappoint. A narrow stare attempted to read him before his last statement cut through her. She snorted, snickering as she hit her cigarette again. She liked him for this on-point dry sense of humor. That was what it was, right?

She looked at her hand. Another good one. Nineteen.

“Stay.” After the motions, it proved to be a good move. A hand went to gather the cards to shuffle again, watching him. She already knew what she wanted this time, and began dealing, watching the cards. She dealt him seventeen—a rather gray area. The card that sat face up beneath her was a five. They had different cards, but both hands added up to the same number. “Finish this bottle with me.”

There was a little less than a third of it left. The last of what was in her cup was finished as she tilted her head back, hips swaying behind her idly as she continued to lean. The glass hit the table and she looked at his expectantly, which he still hadn’t finished.

Despite the waves of realization that this was and had been perhaps a dangerous idea, a game of cards did things to Lulu. It was gambling with Sénon Game that had initially attracted her to the redhead, making her forget her work that first time. Possibly, it was the association with Rinc, or maybe just a whole childhood of wanting to play games with no one around that would. Either way, she craved more. She didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to go to bed yet. She had an opponent.

Up to him, ultimately. She wasn't about to throw triple-dogs or anything.

“Hit me.” She would go for it, despite the odds. Then, a smiling sigh. “Truth.” The more daring route, really.

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silph

SIR

twenty-nine

august 12th

saffron

oppressive

silph co. ceo

council member

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TAG WITH @silph

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 9:01:08 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Fuck.”

Fernando doesn’t make any attempt to mutter his contempt. Losing doesn’t mean much to him. It’s the consequences of his loss that badgers his patience with exasperation. As sure as his attempt to fly under the radar, hoping she’d forget his pour, it comes back to bite him in the ass.

Tequila isn’t the same as the weak shit. It burns. Without salt or Lum, Fernando’s in for a bad time, but the peer pressure of her gaze makes him swallow it along with his pride. He can’t swallow it down soon enough. Fucking bitch.

“Fuck,” he repeats, nausea strumming in his center as his body adjusts the sudden volume after abstaining for so long. He passes her the deck, reaching for the bottle as a replacement. “We’re doubling down.”

Luck reverses when he starts drinking. This time Fernando doesn’t even have to think. A raw twenty one dealt, ace and all. “Tell me something I would want to know about you. Something meaningful, something I’d scour for.”

He clicks his tongue before taking a swig. There’s a hunger in his eyes, dead set on a predator looking for a fresh kill.

“Something worth my while.”

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saoirse quinn

she/her

twenty-eight

october 27th

circhester, galar

bisexual

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executive

5’8” height

every night i burn, dream the black crow dream

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 9:39:04 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

The sight of him squirming made her smile burn. Good. She’d drag him along if she had to. Keep entertaining her.

She watched the win lay itself on the table with a grimace and listened to her fate, which was rather underwhelming. Her features slanted at him. “That’s lazy as fuck, and also, technically: a dare.” Fingers wrapped around the bottle and she took a few glugs without a flinch. Why wouldn't he follow the rules? Government fuckwad.

“I’m a Scorpio.” Stabbed out her cigarette and picked up the cards, not sliding them over immediately. “Check your horoscope.”

An eye twitched at him, and she shuffled without noticing it was his turn, her bright, laughing expression smoothing down to a tease. “You’ve never really seemed like you wanted to know much about me. How am I supposed to know what might interest you?” And then she smirked. “And how dare you think you can make me do all the work, here.”

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silph

SIR

twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 9:50:37 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Hardly. Consider it payment for copping out on the last one.”

Being a sore loser doesn’t sink in often but when it does Fernando refuses to accept anything less. To no surprise, she cuts him short with a bullshit answer and that validates everything he needs to know. “What kind of dogshit answer is that?”

Begrudgingly, he takes his new card, not even bothering to look at the bottom one. “You live in an apartment with as much personality to it as I do. Between all the sheet music and assembly line guts, you’re telling me you can’t come up with something vaguely interesting?” His scoff is posh with a hint of being hurt.

It’s all a setup for his next bit.

“Tch. Not like it’s my fault.” He taps his top card for a hit, unknowingly hitting a bust flat out. “An arbitrary collections of stars made me do it. It’s in my horoscope description.”

His smile is spiteful, nuanced with enough zest to cut the bottle clean. He shoots for it because at this rate it’s the most action he’ll get. She holds out on both fronts.

So much for probing.

“Truth.”

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played by

mad

saoirse quinn

she/her

twenty-eight

october 27th

circhester, galar

bisexual

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executive

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every night i burn, dream the black crow dream

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 10:22:14 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

The environment was brought into focus.

Nerves set in, and at that point, she was in a strange purgatory of feeling sobered and like she knew the risks she was taking, as she was assessing them, but still somehow too drunk to grasp ahold of concepts like permanence and consequence. This was all there was in the world at that moment.

Just as quickly as a discomfort came it passed, chased off by sarcasm which charmed her pessimistic soul.

She thought for another moment, hand lingering on the bottle again, eyes even more glossed than before and looking redder than usual. “Are you religious?”

Then, through the motions again, though a little lagging.

She wound up with a seventeen once more, but this time, took a chance on his advice. Played it safe. “Stay.” Teeth found her lip again. “Dare.” In the case he had led her astray.

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silph

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twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 10:29:57 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] “No.”

Fernando pauses on that answer, unsure himself. The question isn’t whether or not he believes. All this Legendary mumbo jumbo bullshit is all a copout for those who can’t carve their fate with their own hands. He’s collected enough of them to quell any wonder of fantasy and splendor.

“Unless you count the deity I have attached to me on the hip." What he waits on is his own bravado. "I believe in that, I suppose. Pixie dust and all.”

Another natural twenty-one. It almost brings a smile to his face. This time he won’t squander it3

“Let’s try again. No bullshit this time, Lulu.”

He taunts her with a smile and the promise of a good time. He leans in, anxious to see what she can cook up. Maybe maintaining the look of someone welcoming, someone expectant, will coax her into something substantial.

“Give me something tasty.”

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saoirse quinn

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october 27th

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 10:49:53 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

He was his own god. Not attached to the deity. Rather, the deity was attached to him. Utter control, was what he portrayed. A solid answer. One that resonated with her.

Religion was, indeed, for saps.

She glanced at his cards, but didn’t falter at the loss this time. She merely grabbed the bottle again, tipping it up a tick and bracing herself.

Well-played.

She hadn’t expected to have her words used against her like this, and she was visibly caught off guard by the persisting request, or demand, or whatever it was. In her state, she found herself reaching all inside her mind for a suitable enough but nonincriminating answer. Her heart raced as the clock ticked.

In the end, she still came up short.

There was nothing interesting about her, except work.

So, she leaned over what distance there was between them on the counter then, and chanced a kiss. Hopefully a satisfactory substitute.

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silph

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twenty-nine

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saffron

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2021 11:13:25 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]…?!

Actions speak louder than words. This one leaves him speechless, unable to do more than part his lips as confusion puts a foothold on enjoying his well earned treat.

That had been his intention at the start. Fernando Silph, for all his blessings, is nothing more than savant of the human body looking for his next chance at release. A couple of drinks at the bar between himself and an unknown face is bound to lead to his ventured plan. That’s how the good nights end. That’s always the end goal.

And somewhere amidst the numerous detours Lulu takes him on, Fernando finds his interest waning, replaced with a wanton desire to understand just how deep down the Buneary hole he’s plunged into goes. What lies in this den of danger.

Her living space. The instruments she leaves out. A talent that eclipses anyone capable of living a normal, charming life. They all spin a tale that ends with the repeat warning that his life’s end rests in a drawer well within her reach. Whatever physical gratification Fernando had set out to relieve himself of becomes vilified under the pretense of making this his last.

Lulu, a friendly enough face at Kaleidoscope, betrays all expectations of a good time.

She reeks of a danger his MISTY TERRAIN can never mask. The safeguard of his perfume only goes so far.

So when she finally parts onto him his original objective, his mood for conquest has been impaired beyond repair. It’s lackluster to the point of disappointment. He wants answers not some childish peck she think will shut him up. Anything less than that is paramount to disrespect.

It’s offensive.

“Damn,” he squeezes out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re so full of shit.”

A knee jerk reaction to her lips causes him to part all too soon. Their lips barely plant against each other, dry as untouched gin. His glare is as sharp as his contempt. The same attitude from before, from when she first chanced upon him tonight, borrows his face to give her a honest account of his true feelings.

“You’re so fucking difficult.”

We’re doubling down.

He meant it by all means of the world. This time Fernando reciprocates the motion with his palms against her jaw line, fingers flaying into her hair, around her ear to cusp her forward.

If she won’t give him what he wants then he’ll take everything from her.

He devours her with an audacity that forgets her menace.