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Poker, Gods, and A Little Bit Of Mischief (CLOSED)

@Toxic_Persephone group Avid Bone Collector forum 122 comments schedule
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Marcus snickered. He really was getting nowhere fast with her. “Mm did I ever get your name?” He asked sweetly. “I need to have something to call my savior as.” He watched her curiously as they walked, the god rubbing at a rather painful bruise on his wrist. Thankfully for him, the long sleeves hid the large amount of self harm he had put upon himself. “Oh hun you need to get that out of your mind. The gods are rather wonderful.” He said, mimicking an older woman’s voice. He was pretty good at. But it was definitely not because he used his powers or anything. “All gods need you.”

@croccin-champagne

"Call me Rip." Saros said cooly, turning down a hallway as she continued deeper into the compound. There are an insane amount of levels here. Who the hell built this? She fiddled with her mask, not liking how long she had been wearing it. It felt weird. "The gods don't need me, and I don't need them. We've got a mutual un-needingness when it comes to each other."

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“Lighter.” He said, thrusting his thumb into his chest. “World-class mischief maker and widely known as a suicidal being.” He joked. But it was true. He really was rather suicidal. The thought that he could actually kill himself in this body both terrified and relieved him. He could end it and be reincarnated or something. “That’s no fun.”

@croccin-champagne

"Neither is becoming a pawn. So I'll avoid the gods and they'll avoid me, and everything'll be fine." She said, resisting the urge to ask what kind of name 'Lighter' was, as though her own nickname wasn't weird and not even a real name. "They don't need me fucking up their plans, and I don't need them fucking up mine. Down here." Another stairwell.

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He rolled his eyes. If only she knew how deep she actually was into the gods’ lives. Protected by the god of Thievery and currently helping the god of Mischief escape. “Alright, Alright.” He replied, his tone bored as he lit another cigarette and followed after her. “Mm what are you looking for anyways?”

@croccin-champagne

"Stuff and things, things and stuff." She sang, regaining some of that easiness she had had earlier as she led the way down the stairs, still nursing the same cigarette. Like it might very well be the last one she would get. "Wonderful things, but they're never enough."

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“Are you talking about the cigarettes?” He asked with a raise of his brow. “It’s not good to be hooked on them like that.” Said the hypocritical god who had literally already gone through a box that day. “But if it makes ya happy go for it.” He shrugged and sighed deeply.

@croccin-champagne

"The thing, not the cigarettes, but maybe those too. When you know you can't get them often, you learn to savor them." She said, shrugging a shoulder as they exited the stairwell onto what should have been the last floor. If the floor plan was right. Four doors down and three to the left.

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"Ah," He replied simply, "I get mine fairly often." He bugged another higher god to help him get the more savory cigarettes - the flavored ones. He glanced around, taking in the different energies and views. He didn't like the place. It gave him bad vibes. "Who exactly are these people?" He murmured gently. He had been 'human' for so long he hardly knew the state of the gods at the moment and what they were dealing with.

@croccin-champagne

"I can't afford to." Saros turned left down the last hallway, something dark and foreboding writhing in her gut. Thief's sixth sense. "Bad people. Some nasty gang, I think. My employer didn't tell me a whole lot about them, just enough to get what I need-ah ha." This lock was a bit more complicated. Luckily, no lock was too tough for the thief and her trusty lockpick. She flicked her wrist, the lockpick reappearing in her hand, and set to work. "Keep an eye out."

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"Need a supplier?" He asked gently. "Bad people is a relative term, honey." The god turned around, watching from the corner of his eye as she worked. He relied more heavily upon his power, letting it scan for the souls of another being or creature around. He caught a few mice and a dog or two, but nothing too human like.

@croccin-champagne

"I can't afford 'em, I told you that. And I know it is. But there are levels of bad and certain criteria before being considered more than an illegally acting nuisance." She bobbed her head side to side as she worked the lock, feeling along the teeth and playing with the clicks they made when pressed right.

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"I'm offering for free." He replied. "I told you I had some connections. I don't even pay for my cigarettes." He replied moodily, cursing his serotonin deprived brain for giving him such mood swings. "Ah but you are correct. So these people are pretty high on the 'bad' list?" He asked gently, watching her work for a little bit. "Mm, impressive." He replied softly before his face and body language hardened again, a hand running through his ginger hair.

@croccin-champagne

"Nothin's free in this life." She murmured, ignoring the moodinesss in his tone. "Yeah, they are. Bad enough t' make me want to fuck up their plans, for a reason other than fucking something up." With a final click, the door swung open, a wicked and slightly proud grin lighting up the thief's face. "Now, this low down means important things. Which means that lock ain't the only thing in my way."

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He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Alright then, what do you want to pay me with if you can’t take them for free.” He replied with a frown. The moody male didn’t reply to her next phrase, sauntering after her once the door was opened. “Isn’t that how it always is? What’s so important down here or whatever?”

@croccin-champagne

"Do you take leather wallets as payment?" She asked jokingly, stopping just inside the door after carefully stepping over the almost invisible wire along the floor without looking down. "Kintyaka xe Reeziuz. Scroll of Titans." She said, by way of explanation. She dug around the pocket of her vest, making a face as she moved to the pockets of the dark blue shorts. "Cover your mouth and nose."

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“I take pretty much anything, honey.” He returned with his own laugh. He gracefully stepped over the line and hummed. Human contraptions and traps were fun. “Ah, do you have another trick up your sleeve?” He asked softly, placing his sleeve-covered hand over his nose and mouth anyways. Mortal bodies were strange. They were harmed in strange ways.

@croccin-champagne

"Always. I make a habit of keeping at least three up my sleeve at all times." Saros said, pulling a small vial of something from her pocket. She uncapped it, dumping half of the contents out on her hand, and without warning, blew out a puff of air, scattering the loose powder around the room.

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Marcus watched with narrowed eyes as the powder flew into the air, wondering what it was supposed to reveal. He had his fair share of powders but most were poisons. He took pride in his knowledge of those powders. But this was definitely not one of them.

@croccin-champagne

The powder filled the room, clouding it slightly but making something else visible. All of the red lasers criss crossing around the room, protecting the various items and shelves scattered about. "Ah, trusty baby powder. What would I do without you." Saros murmured to herself, grinning like a fool now. After a brief moment of deliberation, she plucked off her mask, revealing the rest of her face and giving her an increased sight range in her peripherals.

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Marcus stared at her face, his eyes taking in and memorizing as much as he could. He was going to have a long talk with Thievery sometime about giving away their protection all over the place. “Baby powder?” He asked softly, uncovering his nose and mouth.

@croccin-champagne

She turned, gold eyes meeting his with a grin that lit up her features. “Hell yeah. The lasers camouflage in undisturbed air, so if you fuck with the air by adding, say, a white powder…” She trailed off, motioning around them.

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“I know how that works.” He snapped back. “I just didn’t know that’s what you used.” Marcus turned his emerald eyes back to the lasers. They were quite impressive in his opinion. “Why don’t we cause some damage once we leave?” He asked with a sly grin.

@croccin-champagne

"Grumpy grumpy grumpy~" She sang, shrugging off her hoodie. She tossed it at him, before stepping towards the lasers. "Don't go through the pockets. And why not? A little fun and a message go a long way." With that, she began making her way through the lasers, twisting and ducking and even on one occasion flipping with ease.

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He growled something under his breath, folding his arms after he had caught the hoodie. His eyes rolled freely. “I’m not going to look through your stuff. I may be a dirty gang member but I’m a good dirty gang member.” He joked with a small laugh. “Leaving a message huh?”

@croccin-champagne

“Yup! It’s the best way to finish off a job.” Saros said, bending backwards as one of the few moving lasers came at her. Once out of it's way, she continued on, headed for a shelf lined with ornate boxes.

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He nodded curtly, looking around for a moment. “How do you turn these off?” He asked in annoyance, biting his lip. “I want to look too.” The gang member wandered carefully around the room, making sure to keep away from any traps. He was quite good at recognizing traps.

@croccin-champagne

“Switch, probably, or-“ She didn’t bother finishing the sentence, another flick of her wrist drawing a knife from somewhere and sending it flying in the span of a few seconds. It narrowly avoided tripping any lasers, hitting a small contraption in the corner, and the lasers disappeared. “Holy shit. I can’t believe that worked.”

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He rolled his eyes, a bad habit the male seemed to turn to. “Lucky shot.” He teased, wandering around the place. His eyes studied the objects, a particular item catching his sight. “Ah! A gun! They took mine from me.” He complained. “Same with my beloved butterfly knife. I was practically married to it and now it’s gone.” He lamented, being dramatic about it.

@croccin-champagne

"Lucky shot is right." She said, something in her tone shifting a bit as she briefly touched her left ring finger. Shaking off whatever had come over her, she continued to the shelf, looking over the boxes. "Take the gun, then. Maybe you'll find a knife if you're lucky. I won't give you any of mine."