Games

[Thomas]

Thomas was oddly cheered by the thought of Zilrud murdering people for him. Or rather, it would be odd to others were it not one of the primary ways many of his lovers showed their affection. He didn't enjoy being so weak that he needed protection, but he appreciated the protection that many had afforded him. There was something satisfying in watching someone who was much more intimidating than he'd ever be do that for him, simply out of affection or regard. There was power in that, but that wasn't why he liked it as much as he did. It was more that it was a tangible measure of their regard for him. Protecting someone from danger, shielding someone from harm, well. What could be more romantic than that, really?

"I would not be foolish enough to try to stop you from protecting me, Zilrud. If you perceive there to be a physical danger, I trust your instincts. If it's solely an insult to me, however, please do follow my signal. Gretchen, for instance, is likely to be outwardly respectful, but she may be impertinent or rude. Please let her keep her head on her shoulders. I can tolerate being treated disdainfully. If someone tries to behead me, though, it seems only fair to retaliate."

Then his attention wen back to the game board. "Right, checkers! A simple enough game, really. We each pick a color, and take turns moving our pieces. The goal is to capture all of your opponent's pieces and prevent him from doing the same to yours. Each piece moves the same way, like this."

Thomas demonstrated the permissable moves for the gamepiece, showing it go left and right, to and fro.

"It can't move backwards, however. So be sure you want to advance a piece before you do so, and consider your opponent's pieces and likely moves in response. Pieces capture one another like so," he said, demonstrating Zilrud's color jumping over one of his own. "They can also do a double jump, like so," he demonstrated again.

"And if you make it to the back of the board, you add another game piece onto the existing one and it becomes a king. A king piece can move forwards and backwards, which is much more useful. Still, it's a simple enough game. There's strategy to it, but it's nothing like some of the more complicated games, where every piece has a different range of motion and capture strategy. Those are a bit fussier and in my opinion not at all suitable for carriage rides. We're not here to plan a war, just pass the time and enjoy one another's company."

[Zilrud]

The Orkhai listened to what Thomas had to say regarding murdering people and fighting on his behalf for protection. All of that, of course, earned a snort of either approval or disapproval; it was unclear which one it was, really. "I have already learned to let you stand on your own two feet, Little One. The only time I will step in is when I am certain you are outmatched somehow. Of that, have no fear." Hearing about Gretchen, though, had the Orkhai looking from Thomas down to the board of checkers as he was trying to fathom that situation in his mind. Rather than imagine it, he was reminded of how Thomas had reacted to the girl who had thought Zilrud an idiot in the clothing shop, which oddly brought a smile to his features. It wasn't often someone stepped into the fray between him and the assaulted, but Thomas did and had not thought twice about doing it, either.

Slowly, the centerless red eyes watched each movement of the pieces Thomas demonstrated to him. "What does the winner get for winning?" It was a game, and Zilrud had played games when he was a child, but they usually had some trophies for hunting games or some kind of prize for competitions. "Or is it for recognition only?" As he asked it, he pinched a piece between his forefinger and thumb and lifted it so he could look the piece over. It seemed simple enough, but he didn't quite understand the intricacies of checkers. "Pick your color, Little One, and let's play." Honestly, he just wanted Thomas to teach him the game rather than try to beat him. Thomas had taught him many of the finger things of livelihood on an estate. From how to drink tea, although Zilrud still had a hard time with the little ceramics, he grew fond of the treats that came with the tea time. He was also learning to like beds rather than hardwood floors or cave flooring. If Thomas thought it was important enough to play the game at least and for Zilrud to experience it, then he would.

Clearing his throat, though, Zilrud had something he wanted to say, and thankfully, there were no other ears around. "Thank you, Thomas." There was no lightness with a nickname or smile on his features. "You are the first person not to treat me like I am dumb and accuse my culture of being primitive." Zilrud did not offer thanks very much, but he had yet to thank Thomas for it in such a blunt way, And now that it was just the pair of them, he took the opportunity to bestow those words onto him.

Replacing the piece on the board, he waited for Thomas to pick his color so they could start playing.

[Thomas]

"No one who is stupid could live the life you've lived and survive, Zilrud." Thomas said, mirroring the orkhai's solemnity and use of his given name. "It is no small thing to do what you've done. Perhaps to you it just seems like you were doing what you had to do to see another day, but many, I think, would not have made it. It takes more than strength and endurance to make it through what you have. It takes great force of will and cleverness to do as you have."

He placed his leg next to Zilrud's, and then put the felted board between them, draping it over their thighs to use as a gaming table, albeit one with pronounced tilt. He put the blue pieces on his side, and then showed Zilrud how to slot the red pieces in place on the other side of the board.

After he set up the board, he made his opening move.

"As for what we play for: we can play for all kinds of things," Thomas said. "Typically, friends will play for nothing, or for a pittance. Some people like playing games for larger sums of money, but checkers is not usually their game of choice for such things. If folks like to gamble, they are usually more interested in cards or dice. It surprises some people to learn this, but I'm no great gambler. Some people think that because I earned my money through whoring or thieving that I am some kind of card sharp, but it's not really something I ever mastered. I preferred to hustle people out of their money without them realizing it. If you're too good at cards or dice or pool, people sometimes take exception and try to assault you to get their money back, so I mostly steered clear of such pursuits."

"Oh, sorry. As for what we should play for: I have no interest in wagering a sum," he said, which was true, but also in deference to the fact that Zilrud to his knowledge did not have any money. "Instead, my proposal is this: the winner of this game decides if we should eat, play another game, or do something else. What do you say?"

A measure of control over what was going on, he mused, would likely appeal to Zilrud.

[Zilrud]

It had not been very often that Zilrud found himself unable to speak. Frequently, he desired to watch and take it in simply. Most people answered their questions and resolved their situations if they were given the space and chance to do so. He also tended to be an Orkhai of little words if it was a topic he did not have a particular interest in or did not feel the need to exaggerate a simple idea beyond what a minimal amount of words could purvey. In that silence, the green male took the opportunity to cast a sideglance at Thomas, the centerless red eyes scanning his frame while he was busy situating the board with their legs as the support for it. He didn't mind it, the closeness. In fact, he enjoyed it, and when Thomas began speaking again, his gaze lingered on the other for a moment and slid down toward the board as he discussed the types of things they could play for.

Talking about gambling was awkward for him. He did not like gambling and did not understand the idea of wagering something that meant so much to one person, to lose it for a chance at something frivolous as money. He had seen blind betting and other forms of betting and gambling when selling off non-disabled men and women. Although that part of his life was over, he still often found himself thinking about it, and even again, at that moment, he found himself thinking about how they had bet back then. "A prize to choose what we do next?" He asked, glancing over the pieces on the checkerboard, remembering they were limited and had to remain within the squares. It was a very rigid game that had precise rules. It was similar to a sparring match. Certain moves were allowed, and movements weren't, especially when someone was proctoring it. To that length, he understood the idea of checkers, and he would understand them better once he had a crack or two at the actual game.

"You gamble. Just not with your money."

Zilrud said as he looked over the pieces, picking one up, and moved through the motions that Thomas had taught him that the pieces could move. Not moving backward would be interesting. He would have to think of it like having a back against a wall during a fight. With that single arm still around Thoms and his fingers resting in his hair, they began to stroke again through his hair, the claws lightly scraping against his scalp as he leaned over and nuzzled his tusked face against the crown of Thomas' head. Resting himself there for a moment, there was an unavoidable sound of the Orkhai inhaling the other's scent before looking back to the game. "You move first. Show me how to start." It was not often Zilrud could merely exist. There was always a task for him to do, something to be completed, but the carriage limited that severely. The only job he could do then was play checkers and dote on Thomas. Well, for that moment, anyway.

[Thomas]

Thomas had no desire to make this some kind of uneven match where he trounced Zilrud because he knew how to play and the Orkhai did not. When Zilrud had shown him how to whittle, he had been fair and understood that Thomas' facility with such practices was nowhere near his own, and Thomas had repaid that in kind with things like etiquette and shopping. So he didn't make a strategically optimal move. He simply moved a piece.

He had no need to handicap himself too much, though. He'd been telling the truth when he'd said that he was no master at games. So when Zilrud returned his initial move with a hesitant one of his own, eyes locking with Thomas' as if to silently ask if he'd done it right, Thomas gave a slight nod and made a follow-up.

He regarded Zilrud's opening moves with curiosity. It seemed like the warrior was getting the hang of where the pieces could go and what that might mean. Thomas, meanwhile, was doing his best to put together something resembling a defense, with a small advancing force and a larger defensive structure in the middle, and his rear row untouched to counter potential kings in the making. He was certain that anyone who was any good would have no idea what all of this meant. He was equally sure that for someone who was playing for the first time, it would be a bit much to take in.

They played mostly in silence, aside from the small involuntary noises he made from Zilrud's fingers in his hair. It was peaceful. He felt content, almost languid. He knew if they did this all the time, he'd grow bored, but for this day, he could think of nothing better.

[Zilrud]

Zilrud had not had any worries about not knowing how to play a silly little game with Thomas. He found it a good idea as an avenue to showcase his warrior prowess in terms of funny little pieces that moved in funny little ways. But after that initial move and they had made eye contact, Zilrud found himself flustered. Not flustered at the fact that he was checking to see if he was playing the game correctly, but the fact he had looked to anyone for guidance on something as silly as a little game with pieces that were funny and moved in those funny ways. And it was those humorous little pieces that earned the Orkhai's glare for a moment as he could feel a deepening, darkening coloration finding itself on the statuesque cheekbones. Dark green and even purple shades found themselves on his cheeks as he fingered one of those pieces for a moment, contemplating moving it or where to move it. The idea of the game was sound, and it was the funny little movement rules that stumped Zilrud. It was war. Why were they moving in funny ways and not directly at one another?

....Because it was a game Zilrud. Which was a thought that ran through his mind a few times as the game was starting to find its rhythm with its two players. Even with the rhythm finding itself, Zilrud found himself disarmed and distracted at random intervals. The little sounds that Thomas made with the Orkhai's fingers in his hair earned either a sideglance from the Orkhai whenever they happened, or Zilrud's train of thought was lost, and he stared longer and harder at the piece he had been contemplating in moving. Offering a disgruntled noise, he allowed his red gaze to linger on the pieces a moment longer before moving a piece halfway or so through their game.

Near three-quarters of the way through their game, though, Zilrud could see that he was on the losing side of things. He was not angry about it. It was a game, and Thomas had settled on the fact a win in the game was merely a win of the game, and it carried no weight outside of that, Though Zilrud was about to change that.

"...If you win, Little One. I will owe you a prize. It can be anything you want or something I think of later."

Zilrud still had control over the outcome! Or so he felt. He also knew there were ties to the person winning passing judgment on what they did next, and that was fine and all. Still, Zilrud felt a need to offer his gratitude, in some fashion, not only for Thomas' patience with teaching an older Orkhai some new things but also for being patient with Zilrud for coming around. He was finding himself feeling a particular way in terms of Thomas and everything else going on with him. He had finally formed opinions that held weight with the older warrior.

A lower, rumbling growl came from within the Okrhai's throat as he nodded his head, looking over the checkerboard. "Start thinking of what we do next." He grunted the few words out as he looked out of the sides of his eyes toward Thomas with a curious smirk. The Orkhai knew when he was beaten, but he was more than happy to play the game to its end, especially if it meant Thomas couple topple the massive Orkhai.

[Thomas]

Thomas had been fairly certain he would win the first game. He had taught Zilrud the rules of the game right at the beginning, but had made no attempt at teaching him strategy. The reasons for this were not nefarious. He thought that Zilrud, not unlike Thomas, would appreciate an opportunity to learn by doing. The concept of the game was foreign to him, and he needed to get a sense for how the pieces moved, how to avoid his pieces being captured, how to set up and execute double jumps, how to lure his opponent into traps that ended up with him having a slight advantage at the end of the exchange. All of that stuff was best learned by just playing the game.

As they played through the round, he saw Zilrud experimenting and learning from what he was doing, the bright red eyes narrowing as he analyzed what Thomas was doing. Thomas knew Zilrud to be much smarter than the average human would expect from a big brawny Orkhai. People tended to assume that large, physically strong men had to be stupid. There were many stories of such men relying on their muscles, and being brainless brutes, but in Thomas' experience, plenty of men smaller than him were also dumber than him, and plenty of men who were bigger than him were also smarter. Life did not distribute intelligence inversely to how it distributed athleticism.

"You owe me nothing, Zilrud. We are in this carriage ride together, and I take pleasure in your company. Besides, we've already determined the stakes of this game. The winner merely determines what we do next."

As they got closer, Thomas looked at Zilrud. He was losing and they both knew it. Thomas thought about teaching him about concession, but that was for when games grew tedious, and the orkhai seemed quite focused on the pieces and their deadly dance on the board, even if he no longer hoped that he would triumph.

When he captured Zilrud's final piece, Thomas didn't crow about it, but he didn't pretend he wasn't pleased. It had been an unfair fight, but winning still felt nice.

He smiled and leaned his head against the big man's shoulder.

"For my prize, I pick: another round of checkers. We can switch colors if you want, or you can stick with the same as before. In either case, you'll have first move next round. What do you say?"

[Zilrud]

Zilrud had no plan of winning the game. He knew that he was going to lose. The Orkhai also learned that Thomas was not merely placating him and trying to make him feel any particular way, just as he knew Thomas winning was still a win against the Orkhai. In a way, playing checkers was like sparring and practicing for fighting. Practice and sparring with a dummy or a stationary target could only do so much. It would take a living, breathing opponent to help someone learn how to fight back or defend themselves against an attack. Checkers was a similar way, or so Zilrud thought. Watching someone play it and hearing about the pieces could only tell him so much about it. Playing the game and going through the actual motions meant that he could put more into memory and see things happening in real-time, which allowed him to conceive reactions to them rather than just thinking of them.

The comment regarding what the Orkhai owed Thomas brought a grunted opening of his mouth, but Zilrud quickly closed it. It was not the time or place to allow those words to come out of his razor-toothed maw. Watching as the final piece was captured, Zilrud's facial expression nor his body moved. Only his eyes tracked the piece as it was captured and taken hostage by Thomas. Narrowing his gaze on the other, he heard there was to be another round of the game, but he did not pause. It was nice, having the moment where Thomas leaned his head against his shoulder. Zilrud liked the little things like that. They were... Nice, although Zilrud would probably call them soft since they were attached to Thomas. Though, when Thomas mentioned what could happen with the next round, the Orkhai's brows furrowed, and he looked confused for a moment.

"What would change if I changed colors?"

That was a unique thing. Would changing colors change his situation? He thought not. Reaching across the board, he plucked up his pieces, taking them from the captivity of Thomas' side of the board and bringing them back over to his side's safety. Placing each one gingerly, with each piece caught between his claws. Only when the pieces were set, and Thomas was ready would Zilrud make the first move and begin this dance again. Even if he did not win the second game, he was going into it with more experience than he'd had in the first one, and he was planning on at least debilitating Thomas's battle force, even if only by a few.

...It was war, and Zilrud was going to win, one way or the other...

[Thomas]

One of the many things Thomas appreciated about Zilrud is that he asked good questions. Even when he knew nothing of the context surrounding a situation, his lines of inquiry were direct and tended to hew to the core of the matters. As someone who had spend many years dealing with the imprecise intimations of the upper set, Thomas appreciated directness, at least when it didn't have social consequences.

"Changing one's color in this case is purely an aesthetic choice. In some games, a particular color will traditionally have the first move. Chess, for instance, white moves first, and since your moves in any game are informed by the board and the opponent, you may wish to put your mark on the board and have the opponent react to you, or you may wish to see their opening move and then act accordingly. In checkers, it matters less because the pieces aren't as specialized. In chess, there are many types of pieces and they all move differently. It's a vastly more complex game despite having a similar set up."

"I realize that I am supposed to prefer complexity in all things, but if I'm being honest, I prefer checkers. Games, to me should be fun but not all-consuming. If I cannot focus on who I'm sitting across from -- or next to, as the case may be -- I don't feel I'm fully present in the game. It's about the other person as much as it is about the board."

He made no especial efforts to play vastly differently in this second round, but he also made no attempt to handicap himself. Zilrud was a perfectly capable and very smart adult. He'd seen the flow of play once already, and this time around, Thomas expected to see some cleverness and some experimentation with the form. Besides, thinking too hard about strategy was dull.

[Zilrud]

Zilrud did not enjoy the floweriness many people put around things in life. There was always a direct path to something and the less chance of it being surrounded things of a frivolous nature, the easier it was to accomplish his tasks. That was not to say, Zilrud did not enjoy the occasional distraction. He was very much task oriented, and sometimes a good distraction did the Orkhai a service. However, as Thomas was mentioning it was purely aesthetic, that the colors were for show, he snorted and had been happy to stick with the same colors he'd had before. As the game began, something Thomas had said stood out to the larger, greener of the pair. Lifting his red eyes from the game board, he looked to Thomas with a curiously raised brow. "What is the point of playing a game for fun, if you are too busy stressing over strategy? The stress would take the fun away." Zilrud did not see the point in the other game Thomas was talking about.

Looking back to the checkerboard, he was contemplating his next move and found himself thinking almost too hard over the little colorful pieces that represented each of them. Raising his hand, he plucked up a piece and moved it and looked to his fellow passenger and snorted with some kind of grumble under his breath. "I think better when I have certain people near me." Let alone sitting next to one another, crammed into a carriage as they were. Regardless, Zilrud would not pretend he was a master, nor pretend that he knew everything he was doing. But he was at least not making as many of the rookie mistakes he had made in the previous game, even angling to take a few of Thomas's pieces, if fate would allow it.

In all honesty, he could complain about being cramped into the carriage with Thomas, and he could be annoyed they were not out in the open elements, enjoying what nature could offer them. But he was quite content crammed into that carriage, cramped with Thomas, because Thomas was becoming a permanent fixture in his life. And the more time he spent around him, the more he was realizing certain things about himself and his situation.