If you like to gamble, I tell you I'm your man. You win some, lose some, all the same to me.
The notice went up around Edna's Boarding House. Not on the actual boarding house, no that would just be plain disrespectful. But close enough to the Boarding House that the Mundies wouldn't touch it for fear of that odd house just down the street and the strange scowling woman who the neighborhood hoodlums spoke of in hushed tones.
Everything you needed to know was written out all neat and tidy on a bent Bicycle playing card, eight of clubs. Neat scribble-scratch said to meet four hours after sundown about half a mile away from the Sacramento Marina, in a gutted storeroom for boat rigging or some crap like that. There was the promise of poker, refreshment, and hospitality signed with a sketch of a cat's paw in running red ink.
It said to bring something to the table, be it favors, trinkets, cash, or Fruit. Knock on the door once if you're alone, twice if with a friend. Don't knock three times. The place sounded sketchy as all get out on paper and looked even sketchier in person. But what the hell, Poker night and free booze sounded like a sweet deal and since you're here you might as well play
Grim cut and shuffled the deck across the green felt poker table. Beside him sat a cooler full of cheap beer. On a cleared rack lay a stack of Luigi's Pizza Parlor pizzas, ju warm enough to be considered fresh. A trio of incandescent light bulbs hanging beneath a slowly rotating ceiling fan kept the room lit the room in amber slices. The Darkling felt at ease with his current hide-out, comfortable enough to invite guests. He'd need to find a back up hideout now that everyone knew where he lived. But that went without saying.
Amidst his hide-out musings, a card slipped from Grim's fingers, falling somewhere beneath the table. The Darkling dropped to his hands and knees with a grumble, scuffing up his slate grey button-up, white vest and slacks. I always, always mess up on the pivot. Gotta on that before someone gets here. He rose from the floor,card in hand.
He began to pace the sparsely furnished storeroom. Bed tucked outta site, check. No crap on the floor, check. Patched up the broken window with cardboard, check. Everything's good to go.
Grim leaned against a dusty rack of discarded rope and rusted pulleys and waited for the gamblers to arrive. But a soft pat-patpat drew his attention from the door. Grim looked down to see his crooked tail slapped against the hard concrete flooring. A grimace cracked along his cheeks at the emphatic appendage. "You. Settle down." The tail went still.
For now.
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