Sevens "It's a game, I think," said Bill. He was dressed as though for a court appearance: a midnight-blue suit over a starched white shirt with what looked like an old school tie, the kind of thing that substitutes for Masonic handshakes, just visible at the neck. His shoes were shiny and black and he was carrying what looked like a slender cane in one hand, but was actually a swordstick. "A card game?" Ben looked like he might be Bill's barrister: the suit was grey with a faint pin-stripe and the shirt was white but the tie was nondescript and his cufflinks were just a tiny bit too flashy with little tourmalines set around a central topaz. His shoes were black and shiny as well, but instead of looking like they were good for dancing they looked like they were good for standing up in all day. "Yes, I'm pretty certain it's a card game. Sevens is only one of its names though, it's got others. I think... Fan Tan, if I remember right." The henchling sighed. They were dressed a jacket that had clearly been nice and probably expensive before something had set about it -- possible with a hedge-trimmer -- and heavy trousers that had survived the attack somewhat better. They were barefoot, and the expression on their smooth, tanned face suggested they didn't want to answer questions about why. They got up and moved to the library shelves. Bill leaned back. The library chairs were mostly variations on wooden school chairs and plastic-moulded metal-legged mass-produced chairs for students; nothing that would encourage people to sit around for hours in the way of patrons. Nonetheless Bill had managed to appropriate the throne from the kiddies' reading room and was sitting on that in the middle of the children's play area and acting fairly regal. If it hadn't been the middle of the night and the library was technically closed, it would have been the kind of thing that had mothers muttering angrily about airs and graces and teenagers pointing and wondering if it was safe to laugh. "Fan Tan," said Ben. "Fan... Tan. Fan Tan. Fan Tan Tan." "It won't appear behind you if you say its name three times," said Bill. He yawned. "Can't we do our research during daylight hours sometimes?" "Whatever this is being used for, it'll happen at dawn," said Ben. "So... not this time I guess. Fan Tan. It sounds like a soft drink, doesn't it?" "I drink coffee," said Bill. "Black, no sugar. And I don't seem to have any." The henchling sighed, set two books down on the table where Ben was sat and set off to look for the librarian's kitchen. "Fan Tan," said Ben slowly, picking up the top book: Card Games of the Goetia. "And the Goetia. That's where I've heard of it before. It's not really a card game, it's played by demons with the souls of the damned." "Sure it's the same thing? The informant said Sevens after all." "Yes, because Sevens is what it's called when they play it here in our world; Fan Tan is when they play it in theirs." A surprisingly nice china cup of coffee was placed into Bill's outstretched hand. "Ah. Then are we sure it's going to happen at dawn, or do we now think it'll finish at dawn?"
Greg - the henchling communicating only in sighs makes me laugh far more than is likely proper. And I do so enjoy the back and forth between Ben and Bill. And the endlessly interesting scenarios they seem to end up in.
2 comments:
Sevens
"It's a game, I think," said Bill. He was dressed as though for a court appearance: a midnight-blue suit over a starched white shirt with what looked like an old school tie, the kind of thing that substitutes for Masonic handshakes, just visible at the neck. His shoes were shiny and black and he was carrying what looked like a slender cane in one hand, but was actually a swordstick.
"A card game?" Ben looked like he might be Bill's barrister: the suit was grey with a faint pin-stripe and the shirt was white but the tie was nondescript and his cufflinks were just a tiny bit too flashy with little tourmalines set around a central topaz. His shoes were black and shiny as well, but instead of looking like they were good for dancing they looked like they were good for standing up in all day.
"Yes, I'm pretty certain it's a card game. Sevens is only one of its names though, it's got others. I think... Fan Tan, if I remember right."
The henchling sighed. They were dressed a jacket that had clearly been nice and probably expensive before something had set about it -- possible with a hedge-trimmer -- and heavy trousers that had survived the attack somewhat better. They were barefoot, and the expression on their smooth, tanned face suggested they didn't want to answer questions about why. They got up and moved to the library shelves.
Bill leaned back. The library chairs were mostly variations on wooden school chairs and plastic-moulded metal-legged mass-produced chairs for students; nothing that would encourage people to sit around for hours in the way of patrons. Nonetheless Bill had managed to appropriate the throne from the kiddies' reading room and was sitting on that in the middle of the children's play area and acting fairly regal. If it hadn't been the middle of the night and the library was technically closed, it would have been the kind of thing that had mothers muttering angrily about airs and graces and teenagers pointing and wondering if it was safe to laugh.
"Fan Tan," said Ben. "Fan... Tan. Fan Tan. Fan Tan Tan."
"It won't appear behind you if you say its name three times," said Bill. He yawned. "Can't we do our research during daylight hours sometimes?"
"Whatever this is being used for, it'll happen at dawn," said Ben. "So... not this time I guess. Fan Tan. It sounds like a soft drink, doesn't it?"
"I drink coffee," said Bill. "Black, no sugar. And I don't seem to have any."
The henchling sighed, set two books down on the table where Ben was sat and set off to look for the librarian's kitchen.
"Fan Tan," said Ben slowly, picking up the top book: Card Games of the Goetia. "And the Goetia. That's where I've heard of it before. It's not really a card game, it's played by demons with the souls of the damned."
"Sure it's the same thing? The informant said Sevens after all."
"Yes, because Sevens is what it's called when they play it here in our world; Fan Tan is when they play it in theirs."
A surprisingly nice china cup of coffee was placed into Bill's outstretched hand.
"Ah. Then are we sure it's going to happen at dawn, or do we now think it'll finish at dawn?"
Greg - the henchling communicating only in sighs makes me laugh far more than is likely proper. And I do so enjoy the back and forth between Ben and Bill. And the endlessly interesting scenarios they seem to end up in.
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