GetThree
Junior Member
As the entertainer shuffled the bowls, he had sent the coin flying out by tilting the bowl such that it landed in his other open hand. When Irene had chosen the bowl on the right, where it should have been, the man slipped the coin into the left bowl. It was a game that, for any normal person, was unbeatable. Matthias watched the process with amusement, arms crossed as he leaned against the table the game was being played on.
Irene had a conflicted look in her eyes when the man asked to play again. “Do it, you’ll win this time,” he encouraged, earning a smug, shark-like grin sent toward him from the entertainer. Silly boy, it seemed to say. Matthias merely smirked back, flipping a coin over to the man. The man started once again and when he tried to take the coin out, using a small dose of wind magic, Matthias pulled it back in.
“The middle bowl,” he whispered to Irene and she, unexpectedly, followed his advice without question. The entertainer looked up at him with narrowed eyes, the end of his lips curling up into a sneer. As he flipped the container over, he tried, once again, to do his trick and, of course, failed. “Well, well, look at that. Looks like missy got it right,” he forced out in a cheerful tone, handing two coins back to Irene with a sour expression.
Matthias turned to the man who had been tricked, standing behind them with an expression that was no longer one of anger but anticipation. “How much did you lose?” He asked prompting the man to hold up all ten of his fingers. Idiot. Five more games to win, then. He tossed another coin over, the slight upturn of his lips growing into a faint grin as the sight of the entertainer’s irritation. The next five games went the same way as the first, much to the chagrin of the entertainer and the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered around them.
Afterward, as they extracted themselves from the crowd and left the entertainer, Matthias wondered why Irene hadn’t yet asked him how he had been so confident and won the clearly rigged game. However, he couldn’t think on it much. Unfamiliar presences started to follow them, coming the the sides of the streets. Five in total, none of them particularly strong, though perhaps stronger than the average civilian. Not really worth exposing his secret guard over, he decided, and signaled at them to stay put.
He turned the corner of an alleyway suddenly just as Irene was about to speak, making it seem like he was trying to escape from the group. They, of course, followed after, successfully corner him and Irene in a dead end. All were rather large men, dressed shabbily with tattoos lining their arms and necks. He almost regretted not just swallowing his pride and wearing Jaime’s old clothes. Now, they had to deal with these blockhead robbers.
“You know what this is, don’t ya, boy?” A bald man, seemingly the leader,started, flashing him a very charming smile. He smiled back, so warmly that you might have thought him and these men were old friends, shrugging. Beside him, he could feel Irene getting ready for a fight. If it wasn’t completely the opposite of gentlemanly, he would’ve let her beat these criminals up on her own to avoid harming the vest he had just bought.
“Hand over your purse and the pretty woman, we’ll let you run free,” the man beside him spoke up, a lecherous expression on his face. Be careful what you wish for, Matthias thought with no small amount of mirth at the situation, his mind once again flashing to Irene standing over his beaten captain.
“Don’t be a fool, Hans, boy’s prettier than his woman. Why not hand yourself over, honey?” A third robber said, inciting rowdy laughter from the rest of the group. It seemed none of them were in any rush to attack them, already assured of their own victory.
Matthias turned to Irene with an expectant look in his eyes. “Well? It’s your time to shine, Miss Bodyguard.”
Irene had a conflicted look in her eyes when the man asked to play again. “Do it, you’ll win this time,” he encouraged, earning a smug, shark-like grin sent toward him from the entertainer. Silly boy, it seemed to say. Matthias merely smirked back, flipping a coin over to the man. The man started once again and when he tried to take the coin out, using a small dose of wind magic, Matthias pulled it back in.
“The middle bowl,” he whispered to Irene and she, unexpectedly, followed his advice without question. The entertainer looked up at him with narrowed eyes, the end of his lips curling up into a sneer. As he flipped the container over, he tried, once again, to do his trick and, of course, failed. “Well, well, look at that. Looks like missy got it right,” he forced out in a cheerful tone, handing two coins back to Irene with a sour expression.
Matthias turned to the man who had been tricked, standing behind them with an expression that was no longer one of anger but anticipation. “How much did you lose?” He asked prompting the man to hold up all ten of his fingers. Idiot. Five more games to win, then. He tossed another coin over, the slight upturn of his lips growing into a faint grin as the sight of the entertainer’s irritation. The next five games went the same way as the first, much to the chagrin of the entertainer and the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered around them.
Afterward, as they extracted themselves from the crowd and left the entertainer, Matthias wondered why Irene hadn’t yet asked him how he had been so confident and won the clearly rigged game. However, he couldn’t think on it much. Unfamiliar presences started to follow them, coming the the sides of the streets. Five in total, none of them particularly strong, though perhaps stronger than the average civilian. Not really worth exposing his secret guard over, he decided, and signaled at them to stay put.
He turned the corner of an alleyway suddenly just as Irene was about to speak, making it seem like he was trying to escape from the group. They, of course, followed after, successfully corner him and Irene in a dead end. All were rather large men, dressed shabbily with tattoos lining their arms and necks. He almost regretted not just swallowing his pride and wearing Jaime’s old clothes. Now, they had to deal with these blockhead robbers.
“You know what this is, don’t ya, boy?” A bald man, seemingly the leader,started, flashing him a very charming smile. He smiled back, so warmly that you might have thought him and these men were old friends, shrugging. Beside him, he could feel Irene getting ready for a fight. If it wasn’t completely the opposite of gentlemanly, he would’ve let her beat these criminals up on her own to avoid harming the vest he had just bought.
“Hand over your purse and the pretty woman, we’ll let you run free,” the man beside him spoke up, a lecherous expression on his face. Be careful what you wish for, Matthias thought with no small amount of mirth at the situation, his mind once again flashing to Irene standing over his beaten captain.
“Don’t be a fool, Hans, boy’s prettier than his woman. Why not hand yourself over, honey?” A third robber said, inciting rowdy laughter from the rest of the group. It seemed none of them were in any rush to attack them, already assured of their own victory.
Matthias turned to Irene with an expectant look in his eyes. “Well? It’s your time to shine, Miss Bodyguard.”