[b][center][h2][color=magenta]Reya Wyatt[/color][/h2][/center][/b]


“[color=magenta]That’s your move?[/color]” Reya said. She spoke as if she were regarding someone teetering on a balance beam. Someone who she was on the verge of kicking the legs out from under. She looked at her nails.

“[color=f6989d]Jesus, Samuel, you’re not gonna win, just stop.[/color]” Iris pleaded

“[color=#7ad7f0]Statistically, at some point. She [i]has[/i] to get bad cards.[/color]” Samuel replied defiantly. He was down to nothing but a sleeveless undershirt and his pants. He rubbed his arms against the coolness of the cave and stacked his socked feet together in attempt to stay warm. “[color=#7ad7f0]And she’s not getting any better, beating me over and over, soon I’ll just be able to copy her. No one has made it this far before. [i]Nobody[/i].[/color]” His voice was determined, but his teeth chattered.

“[color=magenta]Oh, so you think that’s how this works?[/color]” Reya said with some amusement. She rested her head against one hand, not even really looking at the cards arrayed neatly in their proper positions. There was a simple cloth over the empty ammo box, though not one of the much valued and oft searched for textiles. Behind her was a collection of tools, trinkets, parts and other random novelties that Samuel had brought to wager and subsequently lost possession. “[color=magenta]After this, I’ll show you how to wire a switch correctly… assuming you don’t freeze to death.[/color]” No one had ever beaten Reya at Hanafuda and losing was about as certain as gravity. There was a rumor that Dr. Yuri once won a hand, but no one knew for sure. The obscure card game, mostly only existent within the Combine, was at least a nice departure from the standard poker deck. Beating Reya, who had taught everyone willing to play other than Yuri was a feat held in similar odds as reforming the Star League or building Hyper-Pulse Generator from scratch. She rolled up a wad of hair and sniffed it before shoving it in Tarak’s face. “[color=magenta]Does my hair smell?[/color]"

The boombox rattled down Tarak’s mixtape next to them. Samuel stood up, looking at the deck, arms crossed in fierce contemplation. 

“[color=magenta]I like this [url=https://youtu.be/EhcsegzOpAg]song[/url].[/color]”

He finally placed a card and extracted the matching suit. Everyone leaned in to watch the deck draw that would follow, but he knew as soon as he turned the card it was over. He sunk back down to his stool, an empty Fiesta Pail bucket, while Reya daintily distributed her hand for display. “[color=magenta]Five Scrolls, Ino-Shika-Cho.[/color]” The She waved her hand over them like a Solaris dealer. The rest of Tarak’s crew groaned and rolled their eyes at another defeat. “[color=magenta]And one shirt, please[/color].” She added.

Samuel lowered his head.

“[color=f6989d]Will you just give up now?[/color]” Iris protested again. “[color=f6989d]Maybe she’ll at least let you keep your clothes.[/color]”

“[color=magenta]He can have them back.[/color]” Reya said. “[color=magenta]I’ll let him work off his debt, like the rest. Make me tea and coffee, maybe carry my tools.[/color]” She leaned back into Tarak and gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder. “[color=magenta]What do you think?[/color]”

Samuel grit his teeth and started to defiantly pull his shirt away for another round, but the Colonel’s voice boomed aloud. 

Being farther away from the entrance near Black Phoenix and the Von Luckner, Reya followed Tarak around the perimeter of the cave and because most people got out of Tarak’s way. She couldn’t really hear what was going on, but there were apparently more visitors which automatically put an uneasy knot in her stomach. As they got closer she stood behind him and peeped around at about the time the woman was talking about the dramatic conclusion of their former employer. Reya’s eyes narrowed, not because of what was being said, but because of Cassandra, the person. There was something [i]familiar[/i] about her. Reya seldom forgot anything and her mind raced through a catalog of memories like a missile. It would bother her the rest of the day if she couldn’t recall it, days even. Her eyes wandered as she thought. [i][color=magenta]Jeong… Jeong…[/color][/i]. Slowly hey eyes rested on what was a familiar figure skulking amidst the movement around them: Ziska. Her bandaged head stood out almost comically, but puffing away alone seemed out of place for her. Never could she remember seeing Ziska smoke- not that it didn't fit her character. She pulled at Tarak’s jacket to get his attention, tilting her head quizzically. “[color=magenta]Since when does she smoke?[/color]”

[@Abstract Proxy]
[@Th3King0fChaos]