Cha-ching!
Cha-ching!
The bells of doom and despair resounded in Laondio's ear, the slot rolls spinning between blurs of icons as his muscle memory pulled the lever over and over. The sound of the slot machine's mechanical gears had long become background noise to the best gambler in the city; his eyes had long become indifferent to the flashing symbols and the ridiculous amount of money he had lost today.
If others were to see him, they would surely call him a lunatic, except those who knew him, of course; they had long gotten accustomed to his incredible gambling skill and even more impressive dedication.
Laondio pulled the arm down again, the eight-slot spaces spinning with various colours on his irises. He tuned out the sound of the gears instinctively, his attention shifting toward the noise around him.
The clinking of glass and bougie laughter echoed across the opulent casino. Red carpets, flashing lights, stacks of money, and chips were the most prominent sights inside.
Attendees, dressed in black skirts, sheer black tights, and blazers with white dress shirts underneath, walked around, captivating the gaze of most with a drink in hand.
Laondio himself was one such individual, although there was one, unique, stark difference between him and those around him; he wasn't distracted, he simply wanted his drink.
His eyes scanned the casino floors, his gaze captivated by the high heels of the attendees for a split second before trailing up the legs of one walking towards him, a tray balancing on her palm and her other hand behind her back.
Laondio courteously smiled as she placed his drink on the counter of the very first model of slot machines, The Liberty Bell.
"Please enjoy, Dio," she courtesied.
"Thank you, Marleen," he responded as he drew the handle again.
He seemed to ponder for a second before raising his brows, as if to say, "let me indulge a little". He turned around for a quick moment as he watched Marleen walk away, turning back to The Liberty Bell with a slight smirk.
The slots came to a slow stop, showing the following:
Spade, Spade, Diamond, Horseshoe, Heart, Star, Diamond, Heart.
Laondio clicked his tongue and grabbed his drink, standing up to face the casino.
He strongly believed in the concept of momentum, since he didn't seem to have any more, there was no point donating his money to the evil slot machine; he'd cleanse the evil and switch games.
With a quick sweep of the velvet floors, Laondio located his next target, a malevolent poker table.
He calmly walked past the blackjack and carps tables, arriving at one of the fullest tables just as a familiar face stood up. "Ah Laondio, good to see you here," he smiled, "can't say I'm surprised though."
"Good to see you as well, sir. How's Maria doing?"
He adjusted his glasses, "Excellent, she's probably putting the kids to sleep now. I don't want to be too late to bed, so I'll be leaving."
"Good luck," he winked.
"See you, sir."
Laondio sat on the circular chair, adjusting the seat upwards so that his knees were perpendicular to the ground. Then he pulled out a plain, brown wallet. He spread 20 rubles in notes of 5 across the velvet-cushioned table. The dealer nodded towards him before burning a card and revealing the river.
One of the two men still in the pot cursed, slamming the thin cards on the table with a satisfying thwack! The dealer's hands moved quickly, stacking and counting the chips before turning towards the opposite end, "Congratulations, sir, that's 60 rubles."
The man nodded and slipped a chip into the tip hole near the dealer, earning him a nod in return.
The table had been quiet in respect towards the two men playing a pot worth double the buy-in. That wasn't the case anymore.
"Laondio, get the fuck off my table," Thomas slurred with a smirk.
"I swear on the seven wonders, I won't lose money to you tonight," Jonathan added.
"Oh, this gentleman is the Laondio you spoke of?"
Laondio, who would have usually outstretched his hand, held it in. They were on opposite ends of the table afterall. He smiled towards the man, "Laondio, pleased to meet you."
"Vlad, and likewise."
Their conversation didn't last long; their attention was focused on the two cards that had just been dealt.
Laondio slightly bent the edge of the cards, his face as still as a child caught stealing sweets.
The rounds passed on, as he called the various raises of the rich men around him.
And as soon as the river was revealed, he smiled inwardly. His thoughts traced back to the cards lying partially underneath his left hand, the worst cards possible, seven deuce offsuit.
Seven deuce offsuit referred to the cards seven and two that both belonged to different suits. It was mathematically the worst cards to be dealt, hence the seven deuce rule; if all players folded when a player with a seven deuce was bluffing, all players, whether they folded or not, would pay the player a predetermined amount. Thus, with such terrible cards and experienced players in the casino, most would not earn from such a rule.
But only a boring player would play solely off of good cards. Though, being a fun player did not win games. However, with Laondio's reputation being factored in…
It wasn't impossible.
"All in," Laondio calmly said, pushing 4 stacks of chips into the middle of the velvet-cushioned table.
An odd silence enveloped their table amidst the lively atmosphere of the casino for just the briefest moment before the four remaining players slid their cards to the middle.
"Fucking hell," Thomas waved his hands, "Show at least," he blurted out.
Laondio flipped his cards over with a flick of his wrist.
"Congratul—"
"Ah, you fuckin…" his words died under his tongue as each player slid a ruble to Laondio.
"Have a good evening, gentlemen." Laondio stood up with poise and left, beelining towards the slot machine.
Perhaps good was ready to find him again.
It wasn't even 30 seconds before he pulled on the very same handle again, laughing inwardly at winning a seven-deuce offsuit, which didn't happen often, not even to him.
At least I have 12 more rubles to pl—
His thoughts were cut short by the images before him.
4 diamonds.
Laondio's already perfect posture seemed to straighten as he concentrated just the slightest more, his mind calm. He had seen too many strings of 7 identical images just for the last to be different; now wouldn't be an exception.
Except if it was…
5 diamonds.
6 diamonds.
Laondio blinked.
7 diamonds.
His adrenaline spiked just the slightest bit as his irises enlarged with the image of the last roll.
The blurring images stalled in an instant.
A diamond.
Jackpot.
Laondio's eyes shut, and he froze; the clinking of the ruble coins littering the floor faded into the background as he muttered to himself. The same mantra he had been repeating to himself, the same mantra that would change his life.
He reached a state of mad calm; his blood flooded with adrenaline, making him want to lash out. Yet his mind was as still as a lake, repeating the same phrase over and over again, until he felt himself cross a threshold.
The same threshold that he had been dreaming of for the past year.
He had finally done it, he was about to obtain his first manifest, his first ability from his lie. He would finally become a Weaver.
Laondio's eyes blazed as he surveyed the surroundings.
Three security guards. Manager. Two bouncers.
The many eyes on him may as well have not existed. He stood at once, hundreds of rubles clinking beneath his shoes as he glanced around. This is going to be ugly.
Then he broke off into a sprint.
His surroundings blurred as his tempered calm gave in to the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
Various customers stood in shock as the most infamous gambler of the city ran faster than any robber they had seen. Two bouncers moved in front of the escapee with an unmoving stance, and the three security guards broke into a sprint.
They didn't know why he was running, but such was psychology; someone running immediately gave off the impression that they had done something wrong, and they were responsible for such people.
The manager broke out of his shock and shouted, "Stop him!"
Laondio's mind worked quickly; his hands slowed for the briefest second to reach out to a table he was running by to grab a whiskey glass with a big, round ice cube.
The ball of ice fell to the ground as his hands resumed swinging, helping him run just the slightest bit faster.
He used his free left hand to grab onto the railing bars of the entrance as he performed a single-handed vault and resumed running.
His right hand flew out violently, bee-lining the heavy glass straight onto the nose of a bouncer. He keeled over in pain. Just as the other bouncer was moving in front of his colleague, Laondio feinted a step in the other direction and slipped past the casino entrance from right next to the poor bouncer he'd probably broken the nose of.
"Chase after him," the manager's authoritative orders started a chase that would lay out the start of Laondio's path to deception.
His very own path to salvation.