"HA! y'need practice." the set is splayed before you, body leaned forward to grab another set of chips from the table. this time there's a round of consideration staining your features, you can't quite shake it. " i ain't no kind of pretentious shithead. you play good. what's the angle? ain't had to make the first raise since back in the 90's, and that's at push."
  A long dark talon slides against the back of a chip before itâs taken and flipped between fingers absently. & At the felineâs remark, molten eyes lift from the hand dealt to regard him beneath long lashes framing them almost lazily. It had been a while indeed. the demoness couldnât recall the last time sheâd played when alive, but it seemed she still had the sweet touch for it.
   A low chuckle leaves her throat and she sets the chip sheâd been toying with aside to grasp a crystalline glass. Rings clinking against it, the tumbler is lifted to her lips, & liquid as amber as her gaze is sipped.
   Glass set down, Robin regards him once more. âAngle?â She repeats, resting her cheek in her palm, offering an amused smile on her lips. âYou wound me. Canât a lady enjoy a casual game with a handsome gentleman without suspicion?â Eyes drift back to her cards, then to the flop on the table and her hand leaves her cheek.Â
  âNonetheless I disagree. You must be going easy on me, Iâm quite terrible at this game.â
   Two fingers push a sizable stack of chips forward and she tilts her head back into her palm as she pulls back.
   For someone who was so terrible, the demoness has not one single tell to be seen as she watches the sinner across the table, waiting for his move.
                                    ( @schrodemon )
















