Evils of a Feather Flock Together (Annemarie/Closed)

[ANASAZI ABIOYE]

Amidst a sea of upper-classman and their accoutrements stands Anasazi in a standard black tux. Wineglass wedged betwixt two middle fingers, he played the role of hostage to an aged business elite. “You have always been a good boy Sazi, but your father was such a bleeding heart. You’ve taken the company in such a healthy direction since you took over. I mean, it was tolerable before, until he started attacking our friends. He’s a complete and utter class traitor, Sazi.” She finished her rant with a sip of the cherry-red liquid swirling about her glass. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss. Belouve. I am just glad to know you and the others are willing to remain with my company. “Canines on display, Anasazi wore a devilish grin, as he looked upon the old woman. “ Of course, the other shareholders and I are very happy. Now if you excuse me, Sazi l must take my leave.” Fingers curved around the base of her drink, Anasazi’s elderly captor took one final swallow before she left him.

“Hag.” Through pursed lips he insulted her. Much like the rest of the “business “elite” she was an insufferable bore, and due to her advanced age thought she could bestow him with such a stupid nickname. “At least the drinks and food at these things were good.” He chuckled at the consolation prize that was booze and free food. Anasazi may have despised these clubs, but they were vital for expanding his father’s company, and his influence in the global market. Admittedly, he would have rather these gatherings took place in japan, but this crowd preferred london. An annoyed sigh escaped his throat after downing the last drop of wine. Why did necessary evils have to be so boring? He pondered, making sure his query didn’t leave the sanctum of his thoughts. The tamer may have hated these people, but he loved their money and power.

“Anasazi, come watch me rob these boys of their money.” Beckoned an american gentleman with greying hair and a plump build, he wasn’t someone the tamer disliked as much as he was clingy. It was aggravating, but Anasazi nevertheless heeded his summons. “Oh boy, because I have nothing better to do than watch you lose at poker.” He said with a half-smirk.

Down into the bowels of the club he dove until reaching the “games room”, which housed a massive casino just beneath the club. It was a gambler’s paradise even though Anasazi wasn’t a gambler. Not because he though gambling was wrong, he just knew that unlucky people should leave wagers and bets to lucky people. The sheer size of the place made it possible to get lost, but he made it even though the snowy-haired tamer wished he hadn’t. On the way his digivce nearly fell from his pocket, but the broad-framed Anasazi caught it just in time, clipping it onto his suit. “That would have been bad.” He muttered to himself before finally reaching the large poker’s table. He decided to simply watch and wait for events to unfold.

Annemarie Delacroix

[/font][/div]

Made by Riley at THQ

[Annemarie Delacroix]

Bottomfeeders, herbivores, and even a few tiny, hopeful carnivores, unwitting prey for a true Apex Predator. None of them had fangs big enough to ever try and bite a chunk out of her, yet the reverse didn't hold true as they were all soon about to find out one way or another. As she wondered into the Casino, she naturally exchanged a few words with this or that businessman, some of them she knew, others knew who she was, but no matter who she treated them all cordial and elegantly, with all the class expected of a French, high class lady like herself. The Saint-Esprit were hugely influential in France. To many of the Sycophants crowding the place, coddling up to their heiress was a golden opportunity that could secure their future if their did it right... But Annemarie had no time for more than a few seconds of small talk with any of them, not when her attention was drawn to a particular place.

The Poker table. A high stakes game, a million pounds buyin. This was her idea of fun; a game of chance, people skills, and deception.

The first few rounds were mostly there to size up the competition. She won some, lost others, all in good sport with a calm, relaxed - and almost humble - look on her face. But if she looked non threatening, that's because she wanted them to see her that way. Every now and then she rubbed her temple for a very discreet fake bluff, but one an experienced player should pick up on. Gradually, she came to see and memorize a few tells from this or another opponent, focusing primarily on those with large stacks of chips. Most of all, she measure the opponent's reaction everytime she won a round. The moment one realizes they just lost, that's usually when frustration tends to spike even in the most foolproof of poker faces. Like the shark she was raised to be, Annemarie smelled blood in the water. Among all of these players, this American gentleman showed the most signs of wounded pride. Indeed, she could have went for a more difficult opponent... But this guy was just as wealthy as the really good players, and better yet, he seemed confident in having seen her fake tell.

"Pair of aces...!", he said trimphantly, laying down his card. Annemarie rubbed her temple slightly, as she had the last three rounds she bluffed. She has successfully goaded her rival into trying to call her bluff. But that would be his undoing.

Putting down her cards with a graceful smirk, she awaited the dealer to call her winning hand.

"Trio of fives. Round goes to Miss Saint-Esprit.", he announced passively, earning a click of the tonge from the American.,

"Well played, Mr. Archer~", she praised politely with her usual French accent, earning a half hearted smile from the man

"Likewise, Mademoiselle.", he answered in somewhat broken French.


ANASAZI ABIOYE