Jean gripped the dazzling clutch in her left hand and ran her tongue along the front of her teeth just incase she had lipstick stains, that wouldn’t look very good on the night she was trying to impress her lover, but she was confident as she strode into the room, the three other men already waiting around the table. The gown that she wore was floor length, thin straps looped around her shoulders and the length of her pale back was bare. Rivulets of crystal gleamed from the lights of the casino floor, the sanguine fabric accentuated her curves and her hair fell into lashings of curls around her neck.
She stopped beside Scott and placed a hand on his shoulder, thefragrance that she would would give her away, vanilla and spice. His favourite, of course, and she’d worn it on purpose because of course distraction was the art of the game.
"Hello gentlemen. It’s lovely to see you all here, you lot scrub up well."
Jean pulled out a chair and eased herself into it, grinning as she did with a flick of her long hair, and then she turned to Scott with a wink and placed her clutch upon the table in front of her. Fingers with nails that were painted a sparkling silver grabbed a handful of chips, poker chips and she placed them in neat little piles of red, green, blue and black. She looked up then, crossed one leg over the other and smiled at their host.
"Remy, I’m all in and ready to play."
Shuffling the cards loosely, Remy grinned at his arrivals. Addressing Jamie first with a sly, knowing grin. “Ah, ami, I came into possession of three little rescue kitties myself, it was only reasonable to pick this charity.” He said, petting his own little white cat, Figaro. The cat swished his tail and purred. The others curled around Jean’s ankle and swatted at Scott’s shoelaces. Lucifer, on the other hand, stayed close to Jamie. “They’re a lot better company then most people, and I’m told they’re better pets then goats.” At that he shot Scott a look.
“Gentlemen! And lady, of course.” Remy winked at Jean. “Now that we are all here, shall we begin? The latecomers can join in after,” he shrugged, shuffling the deck. The cards danced between his hands, bouncing back and forth. “That’s call the Sybil Cut, pay attention.” He collected them in one hand, bending them ever so slightly to push them into the other hand. He dealt the cards out, flicking them towards each player.
“Now, there are no monetary winnings here. The pot goes to the charity, regardless of who wins. But that does not mean there are no prizes. What host would I be if I gave no reward?” He grinned. “So no fret, you will not leave empty handed. Though, if ya choose to bring a cat home, that’s a prize within itself.”
Everything was perfect, Braddock thought. The only way it could have been better was if they were in a classier casino, a private club perhaps, but that wasn’t going to happen. He enjoyed the arrival of the two X-Men, although in a way, he pitied them. Still, he knew very well how to control his expressions, how to wear one instead of another. With a few glances, he took the two X-Men in.
Scott Summers, Cyclops. The greatest danger from him was his eyes, but there was something to be said for the man’s heart, as well. Scott was one of the heroic sorts, a genuine believer in morality, in the value of righteousness, in order over chaos. Scott was willing to lead and willing to act. He would stand firm for what he believed in, not the sort to be bought. He would also, Jamie noted, look damn good doing it. Of the four of them, Scott looked the most appropriate for the evening. The tuxedo might be old, but it fit him like a glove, and tastefully so. The night had a Bond theme, and Scott walked in and comfortably slipped into that role, whether he knew it or not. He seemed to be here for the woman, which amused Jamie for how appropriate it seemed. He’s not perfect, though, Jamie thought. He may be the 007 of us, but it’s only in relation to the others. There’s a hardness to him, a propensity for… What, grudges? Not to let go of his anger, not to be open-minded enough to believe in others when they compromise his own personal moral code? Scott Summers was an interesting man, and he was certainly the white knight of the bunch. Jamie wondered if killing people ever kept Scott up at night. He then wondered if each of them at this table had killed, and the thought made him smile. It was a dark thought, sweet and bitter as honey, satisfying as wine.
He looked at Jean next. She was an absolute vision, and he could imagine what a pleasure it would be to walk next to her, or to find oneself in her bed. There seemed to be a distance between her and Scott, something Jean very much wished to close — and he would be surprised if Scott did not seize the opportunity. Her radiance was undeniable. Her hair looked soft as silk, the dress moved around her body with all the sensuality of night, and she smelled heavenly. Her nails were silver and sparkled like gems, her hands graceful as the pulled the chips to herself — she was here to impress Scott, to distract him, and perhaps to improve things between them even while beating him.
An admirable woman, he thought, and filled with red.
Although Remy’s sly smile made Jamie want to purr, he was careful not to give the man anything in response, other than the very briefest of glances. He took his seat across from Jean and ran his hand over his own chips. Charity, he thought with a smile as the chips clicked, him taking them out of the tray and stacking them aside ,to be used as he saw fit .Robin Hood was a charitable thief. And so shall I be, tonight. Considering the money he was playing with, considering where he had gotten it and what it had required, considering the events this poker game began, the moves that would be set in motion so far down the line that it would never be connected to this night, he was delighted. Thrilled, really. Jamie had had a wonderful hour before the game began, and now he was set to have an equally wonderful evening.
They were four very beautiful people preparing to play a very beautiful game. The hero, the beauty, the thief, and the madman. Not a pure human among them - they were perfect.
When Remy gave them the cards, Jamie picked his up with a smile. Although he was smiling at the cards, it was meant for LeBeau, and he suspected the other would know it. He glanced to Scott, whose position at the table granted him the first play, by custom.
