[center] [h3] Gamble [/h3]
Boston - 21st, January 2011
[@Sickle-cell][/center]
[hr]
Gamble had been relaxing on a park bench, watching the pedestrians walking and ignoring everyday opportunities. It was... Interesting. If he had to guess, and he was a gambling man after all, the majority of these people preferred to ignore the chaos around them whenever possible. They were scared like rabbits facing a wolf, and he couldn't really blame them.

His musings were interrupted by his phone vibrating. With a frown he answered, not even looking at the number.

"Gamble? You have been requested to attend the Circus tonight by Praetor as an independent entry. He’s going to be watching closely to gauge your abilities to figure out where you slot into team dynamics for future missions in the city. Will you be requiring transport, or can you organise your own?”

"Understood. Sounds like real good fun. I'll get there on my own, though. Can't imagine I'm far away as is anyways," he replied easily, hanging up the phone before a reply could be made.

"Wonder what the odds of me winning the whole thing are?"
[I]0.000000000000000001%[/I]

He grinned to himself. Those were his kind of odds.
[hr]
[I] Later that day...[/I]

Gamble looked up at the building. Brought back memories he didn't care to remember, of a time before he was Gamble. Of thugs and losses. He shook his head, frowning, as he stepped into the edge of the lot.

...
"Well, those really ain't good odds now, are they?" He muttered to himself as his power faded into Oblivion. He scratched his head, walking towards the entrance and the betting both.

"Hey there, compadre," he said brightly to the attendant. "I'm here to enter. Name's Gamble. Independent entry. Just one question... This nullification field thingy stay active during the fights? Cause if not, I'd like to place a couple wagers."
[hr]
[I] Involved by being near: [/I]
Shit, basically everyone at this point.