[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180627/613fac3f33893f1008a701d0e8cce6c6.png[/img][/center] Antonius quickly became lost in his thoughts as he sat at the counter staring at his hands before him. His thoughts drifted back occasionally to the crumpled up photograph that Anderson kept of his daughter on his person at all time. Was that destined to be him? To wallow in the past until he finally died on this ship? It was a horrifying thought, and it occupied his mind even as Raymond entered the lounge. Tony finally looked up as Ray began to speak and a hush fell over the room. His jaw tightened slightly as Ray revealed Anderson's retirement plans. Salt in the wound. Was it supposed to make him feel better about Anderson's death? Tony slowly picked at the grilled cheese in front of him as Ray continued to talk, only looking up when he heard his name. And then he turned it off and quickly pulled a slight grin as he stood from his seat and crossed to the cupboard. Bourbon, poker, cigars...perhaps he'd find a way to get over Anderson's death after all. When he'd found the cigars after some poking around, he removed them and closed the cupboard behind him. [color=ff7733]"Oh, they smell [i]heavenly[/i],"[/color] he remarked as the scent of the cigars leaked from the package and washed over him. Memories of high-society parties and smoking on penthouse balconies occupied his mind as he leaned lightly against the counter and looked towards Ren. He watched as she looked out inquisitively over the assembled crew. Perhaps he'd ask what she thought of them - an outside opinion could never hurt. She caught his eye and quickly signed to him as he crossed the kitchen to grab his grilled cheese. Tony devoured the rest of it slowly, thinking over her request. Tony still didn't know how the rest of the crew would treat her. Some were certainly bound to be defensive or even aggressive around her, for one could argue that her presence had - indirectly - led to Anderson's death. He could simply tell her no and avoid the whole confrontation. He'd find a way to rationalize it. And yet, whether he knew that wasn't what Anderson would have wanted or because he just wanted to cause a stir, he shrugged and turned to Raymond. [color=ff7733]"Ray,"[/color] he called, having just swallowed the last of his sandwich. [color=ff7733]"Rendyl wants to play. Deal her in."[/color] Very much so not a question. A demand, a request. He turned back to Ren before Raymond could argue. [color=ff7733]"Do you know how to play?"[/color]