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The 79th of Summer 514AV
OOCThe multiple Brandons are back! It might be a bit confusing, so I apologize
“An ace, ” stated the thief with a smug grin on his face.
“Bullshyke!” yelled the playful Brandon while slamming his fist on the table in false anger, his eyes sparking in joy. His one hand detached itself from his cards as it grabbed the one last placed on the stack between the four Brandons. All four had the same face, the same clothes and the same voice, yet all of them were different. Though none wore his hood, and they looked exactly the same, all of them knew who was who. It wasn’t just the different expressions and manners, they just knew. The playful Brandon flipped the card with a flick of his fingers, nine shining red diamonds blazing on the item.
“I knew it!” exclaimed the challenger of the thief’s words, grinning happily as said thief was forced to add the stack of cards to his current hand. “We’ll start again with … let’s see here … a seven!” the thief spoke, slapping a card on the table, its back facing up.
“Bullshyke,” commented the observant one calmly.
“Give me a break, will you?” pouted the thief as he retracted the card and put it back into his hand, “we haven’t even started yet!” The observer did not reply, instead he watched with care as the thief placed another card on the table, then he spoke up once more. “And which card is that?”
“Hm? Oh, a seven. I am honest this time.” The observant Brandon nodded and turned his gaze to the more refined-looking one of the four, who gently stacked his own card on top of the thief’s, naming the number six. Then, it was the observer’s turn. “six as well.”
“A seven.” added the playful Bran, slowly placing his card on the stack.
“Have an eight,” grinned the thief, adding to the growing pile of cards.
It was the mannered Brandon’s turn again, with the brief word “nine” he too layed a card down. Then he spoke again, “Say, why don’t we invite Incognito to play with us too? The more the merrier.”
A hail of objections rained down on him, all coming from the thief and the most playful of them all, the observer guarded his tongue, as per usual. Leaning against a wall there was a fifth figure, who was unlike all of the other four. The man was hooded and though it did not hide his face, the mask he wore did. What was remarkable was that he had no feet, and no body at all, the cloak looked as if he had a body, but it wasn’t visible. Standing far apart from the others, it was evident that he was not liked by them, for more reasons than one. “He’s not going to play anyway,” ended the thief, “not without Kriegsfelt’s consent. ” The playful one, who had assumed a more or less serious expression, nodded in agreement. “Let’s continue.”
“An eight,” spoke the observer upon letting go of his card.
The polite Brandon gestured quickly and objected with the words: “I have to call you a cheat, I have three eights in my hand, and one has been played already.” The observer merely grinned.
The playful one shook his head. “Moron, you don’t have to tell us your reasons for objecting, nor reveal your hand, not even partially. And just scream bullshyke instead of trying to be so mannered.”
“Firstly, one has to explain his reasoning at all times, for that allows people to relate and understand you. Secondly, the word bullshyke is rude and inappropriate.”
“Oh, for Yshul’s sake! ” growled the thief “can’t you ever loosen up? Always with your rules and manners, that’s the real bullshyke! I say it’s a good thing we mostly ignore this guy.”
The others nodded in agreement, and the polite one sighed in shock.
“But,” started the playful Bran curiously, “did he cheat or not?” and before he was done speaking his fingers had flipped the card already. Much to the polite one’s confusion it indeed was an eight, an eight of hearts to be precise. “But, but… then who…?” stammered the polite Brandon. Card after card he flipped, but no other eight was found, but tracing back the turns, they found out that the other card that was supposed to be an eight was a king, and most of the other cards played were not what the players had stated them to be, except for the polite Brandon’s.
“Hey,”the thief shrugged cheekily, “it’s a game in which you are supposed to cheat, you know.”
The polite Brandon looked as if his world has just been turned upside down, and stared at the thief’s lips in horror. “But cheating is against the rules…”
“Not in this game!” the playful one pointed out happily.
Suddenly, the observant Brandon sharply turned his head towards the door, a bright white portal, and gestured the others to hush. “Someone’s coming. Three someones.”
“Ah, that’s great,” thief and playful Brandon replied in unison as three silhouettes entered, black shadows passing through the white and entered the room. They were entirely unrecognizable, all one could see were their outlines, the rest was black. “I was getting tired of playing with a spoil-sport and Mr. Serious.”
“Let’s band together, ” one stated, it could have been any or all of them, “we don’t want our guests to think I have multiple personalities.” By the end of the statement, all Brandons but one had vanished, as had Incognito. All were one now, and one was all –like it was supposed to be.
The remaining Brandon, the one and only Brandon Blackwing, stood up and threw the cards he still held on the table, gesturing for the newly entered figures to take a seat around the small table. One by one they became visible, their identity and color returning. They became people and stopped being shades. “Welcome I guess, I am called Brandon, Brandon Blackwing. And who might you be?”
OOCThe multiple Brandons are back! It might be a bit confusing, so I apologize
“An ace, ” stated the thief with a smug grin on his face.
“Bullshyke!” yelled the playful Brandon while slamming his fist on the table in false anger, his eyes sparking in joy. His one hand detached itself from his cards as it grabbed the one last placed on the stack between the four Brandons. All four had the same face, the same clothes and the same voice, yet all of them were different. Though none wore his hood, and they looked exactly the same, all of them knew who was who. It wasn’t just the different expressions and manners, they just knew. The playful Brandon flipped the card with a flick of his fingers, nine shining red diamonds blazing on the item.
“I knew it!” exclaimed the challenger of the thief’s words, grinning happily as said thief was forced to add the stack of cards to his current hand. “We’ll start again with … let’s see here … a seven!” the thief spoke, slapping a card on the table, its back facing up.
“Bullshyke,” commented the observant one calmly.
“Give me a break, will you?” pouted the thief as he retracted the card and put it back into his hand, “we haven’t even started yet!” The observer did not reply, instead he watched with care as the thief placed another card on the table, then he spoke up once more. “And which card is that?”
“Hm? Oh, a seven. I am honest this time.” The observant Brandon nodded and turned his gaze to the more refined-looking one of the four, who gently stacked his own card on top of the thief’s, naming the number six. Then, it was the observer’s turn. “six as well.”
“A seven.” added the playful Bran, slowly placing his card on the stack.
“Have an eight,” grinned the thief, adding to the growing pile of cards.
It was the mannered Brandon’s turn again, with the brief word “nine” he too layed a card down. Then he spoke again, “Say, why don’t we invite Incognito to play with us too? The more the merrier.”
A hail of objections rained down on him, all coming from the thief and the most playful of them all, the observer guarded his tongue, as per usual. Leaning against a wall there was a fifth figure, who was unlike all of the other four. The man was hooded and though it did not hide his face, the mask he wore did. What was remarkable was that he had no feet, and no body at all, the cloak looked as if he had a body, but it wasn’t visible. Standing far apart from the others, it was evident that he was not liked by them, for more reasons than one. “He’s not going to play anyway,” ended the thief, “not without Kriegsfelt’s consent. ” The playful one, who had assumed a more or less serious expression, nodded in agreement. “Let’s continue.”
“An eight,” spoke the observer upon letting go of his card.
The polite Brandon gestured quickly and objected with the words: “I have to call you a cheat, I have three eights in my hand, and one has been played already.” The observer merely grinned.
The playful one shook his head. “Moron, you don’t have to tell us your reasons for objecting, nor reveal your hand, not even partially. And just scream bullshyke instead of trying to be so mannered.”
“Firstly, one has to explain his reasoning at all times, for that allows people to relate and understand you. Secondly, the word bullshyke is rude and inappropriate.”
“Oh, for Yshul’s sake! ” growled the thief “can’t you ever loosen up? Always with your rules and manners, that’s the real bullshyke! I say it’s a good thing we mostly ignore this guy.”
The others nodded in agreement, and the polite one sighed in shock.
“But,” started the playful Bran curiously, “did he cheat or not?” and before he was done speaking his fingers had flipped the card already. Much to the polite one’s confusion it indeed was an eight, an eight of hearts to be precise. “But, but… then who…?” stammered the polite Brandon. Card after card he flipped, but no other eight was found, but tracing back the turns, they found out that the other card that was supposed to be an eight was a king, and most of the other cards played were not what the players had stated them to be, except for the polite Brandon’s.
“Hey,”the thief shrugged cheekily, “it’s a game in which you are supposed to cheat, you know.”
The polite Brandon looked as if his world has just been turned upside down, and stared at the thief’s lips in horror. “But cheating is against the rules…”
“Not in this game!” the playful one pointed out happily.
Suddenly, the observant Brandon sharply turned his head towards the door, a bright white portal, and gestured the others to hush. “Someone’s coming. Three someones.”
“Ah, that’s great,” thief and playful Brandon replied in unison as three silhouettes entered, black shadows passing through the white and entered the room. They were entirely unrecognizable, all one could see were their outlines, the rest was black. “I was getting tired of playing with a spoil-sport and Mr. Serious.”
“Let’s band together, ” one stated, it could have been any or all of them, “we don’t want our guests to think I have multiple personalities.” By the end of the statement, all Brandons but one had vanished, as had Incognito. All were one now, and one was all –like it was supposed to be.
The remaining Brandon, the one and only Brandon Blackwing, stood up and threw the cards he still held on the table, gesturing for the newly entered figures to take a seat around the small table. One by one they became visible, their identity and color returning. They became people and stopped being shades. “Welcome I guess, I am called Brandon, Brandon Blackwing. And who might you be?”
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credit goes to Euthisa