Beginner's Luck -Open-

[ASHER]

[atrb=cellspacing,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-radius: 25px 25px 25px 25px; background-color: 0e2a04, btable][cs=2] I move too slow And I think too fast And the first rainbow I see Will be the last
[rs=2][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://tadhg.com/images/design/seamless/greenblack.jpg); height: 370px; width: 325px; border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px] Why had he never come here before? This place was practically a gold mine with tokens slipping from the pockets of inebriated gamblers. As another clink reached his ears, Asher ducked down and scooped up the shiny coin off the ground mere moments after it had hit. As he straightened, he slipped the coin into the pocket of his pants, smirking slightly as he felt it jingle against several others. He sidestepped another drunk gambler who looked as though he were going to puke over the next person he ran into. Asher scowled. These people were wasting away their funds in a fruitless attempt to gain more. Asher, who had grown up poor and without a single coin to his name, wanted to spit. He bowed his head as he purposefully bumped into someone who was staggering slightly. "Sorry," he murmured, though his voice was lost amidst the noise of the casino. He slipped several coins from the man's pocket. He chuckled to himself as he easily made his way to the edge of the building. People were so foolish. It seemed as though no one had heard of inner pockets. His pokeball and switch blade were tucked safely within an inside pocket of his jacket, safe from any fingers that may be just as swift as his. He pulled a single coin from his pocket and made it dance between his lithe fingers. As it caught the light, it twinkled. For a moment, he seriously debated putting the token down on a roulette table. While he knew nothing of numbers or chance, but he liked to believe that he was a damn good beginner. And weren't beginners supposed to be given some sort of ungodly high chances to trap them like flies? He clenched his fingers around the coin. Nu-uh. He wouldn't fall prey to the casino's temptations. So, he ducked down again, lightened another person's pocket by several coins, and slipped into a corner, keeping his gray eyes open for a new target. Words: 335 Tags: Open Notes: I don't expect anyone to actually interact with Asher at this point in time. I can work him in once someone else posts.

Template by Asher of FSB

[ninjaastronaut]

Aleta had no idea how to play half of the games in this place. The casino was flashing all sorts of colors, rattling and binging and other such festive noises were filling the room. It would be hard to hold a conversation in here. It was almost like a carnival where drunk people went, but they only played the games that were rigged, like the basketball hoop that was bent so the basketball could never fit through. Why would anyone come here? Why did she come here?

Of course, she knew why she was here. She was on a little vacation. And she knew she could make money in this place, outshow all the losers that flocked about. Because she was the best at, like, everything, right? Right. She was going to make a huge hawl to bring home to her parents. "And I'm going to do it with style!" She snickered under her breath to the -not really- joke.

She looked around for a game that she might actually know how to play, and more importantly, how to beat. It took quite a while, though Aleta did find a little bit of joy in looking around at the carnival like signs and games that littered the crowded room. People were bumping into one another to and fro, Aleta included. Such things were hard to avoid in a room this crowded, especially when crowded with drunk people.

Finally, she came across something simple. She sat down at the nearest slot machine, next to an old lady who seemed way to into it. Aleta quickly made a quiet promise that she would never resort to something like this. Pulling her chair in and her long hair behind it, she pulled on the lever, which gave a satisfying rattling noise. One more time, she pulled the lever, and the three rotors clicked into place. Quickly, two bright red cherries lined up, and even more quickly it was all messed up when the last cherry was placed one space above the rest.

Instantly enraged, Aleta took out her anger on the machine, giving it a solid kick. With a loud churning, and the even louder clanging, coins poured out of the machine, spilling on the floor. "I'm a winner!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to act as best as she could that she was happy and suprised, not scared she was going to get arrested for breaking and stealing from a slot machine.

After hurredly collecting all the coins she moved to the other end of the room, hoping to mix into the crowd. The pockets on her pants were too small. All the change was getting uncomfortable in them.

"I knew I'd make a killing!"

[♫~Leap~♫]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/8qnsq.gif); padding: 7px; width: 400px, bTable][atrb=vAlign,top][style=background-color: #303030; padding: 5px; float: left;][/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #bebebe; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: 3px;]words 1562 · tags asher, aleta · notes notes[/style][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #bebebe; padding: 5px; width: 290px; margin-left: 3px; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 180px; overflow: auto;]And the boy lost all his life savings. There was much rejoicing. Or, at least, that could have been what happened if he'd fallen victim to the many, many slot machines that lined the Game Corner of Neurift City. Games of all different kinds, flashing in many colors and decorated to a point that it burned the eyes were scattered across the building, though almost every one shared a similar concept on how to win the game... and how to steal money from the idiots willing to give their's away in hopes of winning big. As one could assume, this was a stupid way of trying to make a profit. Couldn't these people get jobs, or something? Make a solid pay instead of losing more than winning, but letting their drunk off their butt minds allow themselves to think otherwise? It all seemed so simple if one truly thought about it. Put a great deal of effort into thinking up all the reasons why a secure job was better than the sport of something like gambling at filthy casinos. Of course, not everyone actually tried to think their ways throught their boring - or exuberating, depending on the person - lives. Instead, they just threw themselves head first into anything and everything and expected the best of results. Alva Faunus, billionaire to be, was one of these morons. The green-haired wonder would be sitting at one of these colorful little slot machines, himself, insterting coins, pulling levers, expecting to see more coins drop from the machine, and cry when he got unlucky. It was just what he did. It was his thing. What better way to use the money from the credit card he stole from mommy and daddy before getting out of that blasted place and never looking back? At least three times every week he came down to this place, spending hours at one machine before getting bored and spending hours at another. Thrilling, I know. But he enjoyed it, and he did what he wanted, no matter what anyone else said about it. So, if he wanted to waste his life in that dump of a place, he would do just that. Waste his life in that dump of a place. The slot machines were his friends - maybe his only ones - even if they stole his money and left him with empty pockets every night. But, hey! A cheating friend is better than no friend at all, right? Totally. But this brought up an interesting question. Why exactly was he not participating in the masses of gambling loonies, doing just that? Loosing all his money because it was the most entertaining way of doing so? Well, there was a very important reason for this. It was that he had not money to loose. He wasn't broke. His parents were loaded - he'd be able to use that credit card for almost five years without a worry, he would always tell himself - so there was no worry about going broke. But he'd forgotten to bring any money with him when he make the excrutiatingly long trip from the Pokemon Center to the casino. Which, in all honestly, wasn't very far at all - maybe a five, ten minute walk? - but it was that far for him. Sure, he could have gone back to get it but that required effort and he hated having to use effort for tiny little things. So, instead, he decided to be lazy, mope, and hit his head against the machine before him like a depressed teen who no longer felt like living. Which could almost be used to describe the situation he was in. He didn't always act his age, and, if he couldn't gamble, what was the point on living at all? "Arg, if I don't get out of here, I'm going to die," he bellowed, smacking his forehead against the machine multiple times slightly. The slots moved - also slightly - in responce to this movement, yet he payed no attention and didn't bother to process what had just happened. He was to busy suffering from a major lack of money wasting and, if he didn't get some cash, he'd be an utter mess by the end of the night. He could always swipe a few coins from some other people at the party - half of them were so drunk that they required the machines and stools to help keep them on their feet - but, in his hissy fit, he didn't even stop to think about that possibility. So, instead, he moped, feeling his forehead collide with the machine with much more ferocity each time. In other words, he hit it hard with every swing of his head. A tiny click caught his ears as he watched the probably old machine's slots move slightly in responce to his unrelenting attack. Well, there was an idea. Smack it until it gave him money. Smiling suddenly at the idea, he threw himself at the machine, successful catching the attention of those around him - and a headache - but not managing to line anything up. Actually, he noticed, they hadn't moved in the slightest. Groaning again, the male pounded his fists against it lightly, not wanted to inflict any further injuries to himself, and let out yet another exaggerated groan. Tonight was just not his night, was it? Nope. It wasn't. And, in addition, he was to busy wallowing in self pity to actually get off his lazy butt and go do something about it. However, the bar at the far side of the casino did catch his attention and, within moments, the green-haired male was stumbling over for a drink. What an idiot he was. Like any of those drinks were actually going to be free. If he didn't have money to play at the slot machines, there was no possible way he'd be able to afford a drink. Pukish green colored eyes glanced at a small sign that said "FREE ICED WATER" and wondered if they could throw any alcohal in there for him. Upon asking, he was laughed at to the face and booted back to moaning and groaning in a heartbeat. No water for him, it seemed. So what was he going to do? Alva's head turned and his track of sight locked onto a dark haired man - right? That was a man, right? That pony-tail was throwing him off, that was for certain... Of course, he wasn't exactly Sir Manly Man, king of manliness. Just don't let him know that. - who bumped into a few of the gambles and swiped what they'd earned from the games. Anger began to raise in his throat for two reason, neither one of them being that actual thefts themselves. One? How the heck did these idiots manage to win anything? He'd been a gambler ever since he got away from his parent's iron grip and he usually didn't win squat! Second, why hadn't he thought of doing that earlier? Becayse he was clumsy and would fail miserably? Yeah, probably that. Not like he'd accept either of those statements, though. Deciding to waste someone else's money - he was still to lazy to go get his own - the man rolled up his orange sleeves and started slowly walking through the building, lloking for a good victim for his next little "crime". Instead of coming to them, though, they seemed to come to him. And, better yet, it was a girl. And a cute one, none the less. "I'm a winner!" The cry rang out throughout the building from the top of someone's lungs and, for another split second, he was bitter about not be able to win himself all over again. However, he'd be able to win once he grabbed a handful of her jackpot, however much it was. If it was a lot, she probably wouldn't even notice that any of it was - "Holy Miltank, what the heck?" the male gasped as he caught sight of the coins spilling from the pink-haired girl's pockets. Did he say a handful? I'm sorry, I think he meant five. With that, the female slipped into the crowd of people at the other end of the room for whatever reason - first win, maybe? Afraid of someone beating her up and stealing her prize? Seemed fair enough. - and he stuggled to follow her from a safe distance. He didn't want to be one of those creepers that followed people around and begged for money. That was low for even someone like him. Maybe cmall talk, then swiping her coins while she wasn't looking? Yeah, that seemed about right... "Oh, hey!" Alva called, clasping her shoulder with his girlish hands and falling into step with her. "You must have won big, huh? Congrats!"[/style][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #bebebe; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 3px; margin-bottom: -3px;]template by john of ote & btn[/style]

[ASHER]

[atrb=cellspacing,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-radius: 25px 25px 25px 25px; background-color: 0e2a04, btable][cs=2] I move too slow And I think too fast And the first rainbow I see Will be the last
[rs=2][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://tadhg.com/images/design/seamless/greenblack.jpg); height: 370px; width: 325px; border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px] He picked maybe another seven pockets before he retreated to a small corner to take a look at his handiwork. He was patient, willing to pick twice as many pockets and only take a little bit from each one as opposed to trying to sweep everything all at once. It was less risky taking little amounts. People didn't miss it as much, especially if they weren't thinking about it. "Care for a drink, Mister?" a young barmaid asked, balancing a platter of full shot glasses on the pats of her fingertips. He looked at them for a moment before shaking his head and turning her down. No, he couldn't afford to be sloppy in his work. As she walked away, she gave him a wink which is simply responded to with a sly grin. Afterward, though, he may try and find her. But not until later. For the time being, Asher simply made his way through the crowd again. In one act of confidence, he slipped a man's entire wallet from his person, pilfered the case and coins from it, and dropped it on the ground to be stepped on by the other casino goers. He stopped abruptly as three words registered in his head. "I'm a winner!" He perked up, looking in the direction where the voice had supposedly come from. He watched as a young girl stood from the flashing slot machine and quickly made his way closer to her. Mere moments before he was about to approach her, though, another person beat him to it. He frowned, backing off only slightly. As the new person seemed to try and start up a conversation, Asher decided to move again, deeming that it was safe enough to do so. "I'd be careful about what you annouce to the world," he admonished lightly, stepping in front of the two girls (Yay for mistaking Alva!) and bowing slightly. "There are people on the prowl here, looking for easy money, and you're not the most inconspicuous," he warned. "Please, allow me to assist you," he said, straightening up and taking a step back from them. Words: 353 Tags: Aleta, Alva Notes: I'm assuming that once Asher steps in front of them and starts talking that they stop walking. If not, I can change this accordingly.

Template by Asher of FSB

[ninjaastronaut]

Suddenly, Aleta was bombarded by two people, and she wondered for a moment if they were only here to get some of her winnings. She shrugged the thought off, because they obviously just wanted to be friends with the most beautiful girl in the casino. This other girl wasn't ugly, either, but she looked... odd. And the color of her eyes reminded Aleta of Vomit. Already showered with words of praise and offers for help, Aleta was feeling quite flattered. Flattered, but still anoyed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear a 'Hello' from either of you!" She crossed her arms, and surprisingly, none of her coins fell out of her pockets. These were rude people. But did that excuse her for being rude back? She didn't' know, but she decided she'd be the more mature person of the group. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped on you. Thank you, and no thank you. I think I can manage a few coins by myself. You're welcome to hang around for a bit though!" She was such a nice person. Or, she thought she was, at least.

Then, without thinking, she asked, "Are you two dating?"

...And she had such good manners, too!

[♫~Leap~♫]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/8qnsq.gif); padding: 7px; width: 400px, bTable][atrb=vAlign,top][style=background-color: #303030; padding: 5px; float: left;][/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #bebebe; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: 3px;]words 1495 · tags asher, aleta · notes sorry he's so mean.[/style][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #bebebe; padding: 5px; width: 290px; margin-left: 3px; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 180px; overflow: auto;]Were all people this stupid? Honestly, every soul he'd encountered had seemed far from what one would deem bright. Or, at least, in his eyes, they did. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was right; he had a tendancy to judge people by their appearance or what little words they'd said to him over the span of a few measly minutes. So, when he came across the pink-haired girl who switched from scolding, to being polite, then jumping to conclusions, to the man who's attire was absolutely unacceptable in the "fashion police's" eyes, it was only natural to already start labeling these two human beings and note to avoid them in any possible future encounters. Though, he did like the male's bangs and the girl was kind of cute in her own pinkish-colored ways. Maybe he'd snatch a few fashion tips to add to his growing collection before ditching them and taking a few of their coins with him to gamble. But I'm getting ahead of myself. When did this other guy come into play, anyway? It was very simple, really. Maybe Alva hadn't noticed yet another figure with similar ideas to his own attempting to approach the outspoken female he was currently walking beside in his rush over, but he certainly was aware of the dark-haired man's presence when he neared the two. Looked like today was this chick's lucky day; two guys - one that was absolutely gorgeous and the other who was, well, lacking in some departments - were swarming around her and trying to make small talk. Well, at least, he was attempting to make small talk with her. Whatever the taller of the two men wanted would only be revealed by listening to him actually speak in the moments to come. The same thought process wasn't going on in their heads, was it? Trying to "befriend" the girl, then leave her with her pockets empty when she'd let her guard down? Well... sort of like the, pressumabley. Only chitter chatter was not on the other person's mind, made apparent by the words that came out of his mouth. After standing before them not moments after the vomit-haired wonder had fallen into step with the mystery girl, the pony-tailed man said with a slight bow, "I'd be careful about what you announce to the world." Eh. The only real problem he, himself was seeing with her loud cries of victory was that it would problem earn him a headache in repetition. But, if someone wanted to point one of those big flashing billboards above their heads that screamed, "Hey, I wanna get robbed!", he wouldn't argue. Go with the flow, he supposed. How he handled a lot of things those days. "There are people on the prowl here, looking for easy money and you're not the most inconspicuous. Please, allow me to assist you." People on the prowl? Easy money? Oh, boy, had this guy just summed him up in a few words. Scary. Was he a mind reader? Did he know that the peculiar male wanted to mooch of the female's earnings? Seemed like it at that point. The idea that someone was onto him and could possibly ruin his plans caused him to want to blurt out something about how assistance was not necessary and that he could go back to styling his not perfect hair or something. ... Arg. He was running out of insults, much less ones that made sense. Of course, another voice beat his to it, this one being more feminine sound and most likely spilling from the longest haired one out of the three. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear a "hello" from either of you!" The accusation threw him off guard and sent him crashing into defensive mode. "Didn't hear a -" the nerve of it all! Didn't she get that "hey" was today's slang for "greetings"? Honestly. Again. He sees dumb people. They're everywhere. They're starting to get on his nerves. Flustered, the male lost his "cool" demenor and, instead, began practically whining, "Hey! I said "hey"! That's got to count for something! Would you rather I get down on one knee and say something like, "hello, my fine young miss. Care to spend the night with me?"." The answer was no. That'd be creepy. He was creepy. He was a flat out creeper. Oi. He needed a better image for himself. It'd be harder to pick up random chicks out of no where with that sort of reputation. The strange, almost bi-polar speaker had crossed her arms in a mixture of disappointment and anger previously. However, after what appeared to be some contemplation, she visably relaxed in just the slightest and apologized quickly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you." A grunt was restrained in reponse. If he wanted her trust, he'd have to remember not to snap, either, and try to maintain a level head. ... This was going to be harder than he thought, wasn't it? "Thank you and no thank you. I think I can manage a few coins by myself. You're welcome to hang around for a bit, though!" Her voice had startled him for a moment, then sparked some intrest in his mind. "Are you sure about that? I can already see some suspicious guys lurking about." Himself. Oh, yeah, and that really polite sounding guy. He was kinda weird, too. "But, I guess, you're a grown woman. You can probably handle yourself in that kind of situarion." Was this his moment of victory? Who could be sure? He'd have to seize the moment and hope - pray - that she didn't catch him red-handed, throw a drink in his face, or something, and storm off. His night was already crummy. He didn't need his totally amazing clothes getting ruinned yet again by another angry girl. Gambling money, in addition, was for gambling and not for buying the supplies to sew himself some new clothes. ... Speaking of gambling money, wasn't that what he was supposed to be obtaining at that moment? Right. His mind. Get so off topic some times. Reaching out a delicate hand as quietly and stealthily as he could, he trained his sights on her pocket through the corner of his eyes. His fingers got closer... and close... and - oh, was that nail a bit ragged in comparison to the others? Oh, heavens no! He'd have to get another manicure after this, wouldn't he? Darnit. So close to perfect nails, too. Side tracked, he didn't even see her move slightly and burst out with the most impossible questions she could ever blurt: "Are you two dating?" Maybe it was the sudden movement of her's. Maybe it was the question itself, oreven some magical combination of the - okay, yeah, it was mostly the question. Alva let out a yelp, starting to a point that his feet literally were lifted ever so slightly off the ground in his surprise. An outstretched arm snapped back to his side and a dream of snatching her money that moment was all but crushed. In the next few moments that followed, green colored eyes darted back and forth between the two strangers that fate had thrown in his face, mouth gaping and expression unbelieving. Them? Dating? Okay, he might have had some strange tendancies, but he was most certainly not into other men. How rude of someone to just up and assume that someone was into the same gender! Why, he oughtta - "What? You mean, us? Tall, dark, and ugly over there and me?" A sickening laugh erupted from the orange clothed man as he clutched his stomache in one hand and placed the other utop his head. "You're joking. You kidding me, right? Right? I don't even know this guy! And, even if I did, I probably wouldn't tarnish my reputation by dating someone like him..." Okay, that was all probably a little rude. ... Scratch that, it was a lot rude. But that was inproper grammer. And, again, he didn't do guys. But he chose to omit that from his tiny little mean speak of his. No need to bore her with the basics. Same reason why he wouldn't explain that they were both below him and that neither of them deserved to be dating someone much like himself. He was just... to perfect for them to comprehend. Poor lower beings. Can't comprehend sheer genius in the form of a man.[/style][style=background-color: #303030; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #bebebe; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 3px; margin-bottom: -3px;]template by john of ote & btn[/style]