Post #2821052 in Gimme Storage, a roleplay on RPG

Yousof Farooq (#CD7F32)
Soundtrack//Outfit

"Oof."

Yousof didn't land so much with a slam as a thud, bruising just about every part of his body (or at least it felt that way). He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat up, cracking and twisting his joints with the vigor of someone twice his age. Nothing felt broken, but he would definitely need to see a chiropractor after this ordeal was over. Craning his neck he saw that the ceiling was...nonexistent. The walls extended far past the light of the torches, blending into the darkness until all you could see was a black skyline, punctuated with a handful of stars.

Before he could take time to admire the scenery however, a screech reverberated through the room.

“Who’s there?”

“I am the god of kingship, ruler of everything under the sky. All who have domain over the land answer to me. So mortal, what will you offer me in exchange for my patronage?”

“What? What do you mean, patronage? I just want to get out of here!” Yousof exclaimed, throwing up his arms. “One minute I’m trapped and the next I fall straight through the floor.”

What even was that? There was no possible way he could both fall through the floor yet land in a room with an open view of the sky. It just didn’t make any sense. He stared above him, unsure where to focus his eyes

“If you wish to leave here, you must prove that you are worthy of my approval.”

“What? That’s…” Yousof paused. It was a ridiculous request. He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t influential, and he certainly wasn’t some demigod in training. He wasn’t even the funniest person he knew.

The shadow circled around him, cawing in protest of the silence. Staring at his feet, the young man sighed.

“Okay, I don’t have anything,” Yousof whispered, gathering his breath.

“So I uh, challenge you!” He announced, pointing towards the sky.

“I have no time for your petty games,” the god scoffed, “I decline.”

“Why? You’re a god aren’t you?” Yousof taunted, his voice growing more confident, “so you shouldn’t have a problem winning."

"Unless you’re afraid.”

“You dare overstep your mortal authority!?” Horus slammed his fist against his throne, shaking the walls of the aperture.

Sand fell from the fragmented floors, scattering across Yousof’s body. Still, it didn’t keep the madman from speaking.

“That’s right.” His voice remained unwavering, even as he brushed himself off. “You're washed up. A myth from the past. Nobody’s worshipped you for centuries.”

“Very well,” Horus roared, “I will show you the gulf between a man and a god.”

He descended from the skies, cracking the floor as he landed. His wings snapped back, spraying sand across his challenger's face.

“Choose your challenge wisely,” the bird-faced king sneered. His eyes narrowed at the human before him, growing angrier with each second that the man dared to meet his gaze.

“Let’s play poker.” Pulling out a deck of cards, he waved them at Horus who crossed his arms.

Contrary to expectation, Horus let out a chuckle. “If you thought you would throw me off with something modern you are sorely mistaken.”

A square table emerged between them, adorned with hieroglyphs and a seat on each side. Coins fell from the sky, stacking into neat piles on either side of Horus and Yousof.

Taking a seat, he found himself dwarfed by the deity. He was far taller than any creature Yousof had ever seen. It didn’t matter whether this was a hallucination or reality, if he lost then he would surely die.

But he couldn't show him that.

"The rules are simple. Each of us draws five cards. And then after seeing our hand we take turns betting in the middle. You can either raise, call, or fold. Calling being matching and folding being giving up. Once that’s done, everyone who hasn’t folded will reveal their hand and whoever has the highest value gets the pot.” Yousof paused for a second. Ah man there were a lot of rules, but the onus was on him to explain it. It wouldn’t be a fair fight otherwise.

”Ranking hands from strongest to weakest, Five of a suit is strongest, then four consecutive cards, four of a kind-”

“-Then three of a kind, two, and a single high card.”

“Wait how do you-”

“I may not have competed in over a millenia, but I’ve watched you mortals from afar.”

“Well since we’re both on the same page, all we need is a dealer,” Yousof replied, “now there isn’t anyone else here, but I’m sure we can-”

“There will be no need.” Waving his hand, a falcon-headed woman rose out from the ground, carrying a wooden tray with a deck of cards.

He certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“If there is nothing else then I will play your game, with a few adjustments.”

“Adjustments?”

“I do not like the idea of shying away from battle nor having win conditions be so binary so there will be no calling or folding, only raising. The highest bidder then determines which hand wins, the strongest or the weakest."

"But that just gives the advantage to whoever has the most money!" Yousof protested.

"These are my conditions."

After a long pause Yousof sighed. "Can I add some new rules too?"

Horus stroked his chin before gesturing for the mortal to continue.

"I want us to be able to exchange cards at the beginning. That way the winner isn't just determined right out of the gate. And-" Yousof turned over to the woman standing by the table before pulling a joker from his deck-”I’d like to add this into the game. Whoever pulls this automatically wins the round regardless of whether the rule is high or low.”

“Even in gambling it’s foolish to rely solely on luck,” Horus chuckled, shaking his head. "Nonetheless, I accept."

As the dealer began passing cards to Horus and Yousof, he took stock of his coins.

He had a handful of gold rings, two stacks of silver coins, and a fair number of bronze pieces. Compared to Horus, they seemed to be equal until he saw two more followers appear behind him.

“What the hell is that?" Yousof asked, gesturing to the coin-filled buckets they were holding. “how do you already have so much money?”

“I had our dealer give us currency based on our valuation and as a god, I am priceless while you are…”

Yeah, he couldn’t disagree there.

“Now then, let the game begin!”

Torches flared around the five participants, revealing an audience of sand-formed people shouting their god’s name. Even the moon and stars showed themselves as spectators to the match, scattering light across Yousof’s body. It seemed that the heavens favored an underdog.

Or perhaps they were looking for entertainment.

“Commencing round one. Please pay your participation fee and announce the cards you will be exchanging,” the dealer announced monotonously, passing each of them five cards.

I see…

Rather than the traditional hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds Horus’ deck consisted of...sticks, coins, cups, and swords. God help him if his old housemate didn’t go through a witchy phase.

Sticks were clubs, coins were diamonds, cups were hearts, and swords were spades. Easy. Easy stuff.

...Except for his dead hand.

Seriously? A high card in the first round. That’s it? Pressing his lips together he gazed at Horus.

“A pair of threes,” Horus said, handing the cards over to the dealer.

The god’s face was unreadable and his hands unmoving. Was he going for a weak hand? Shooting for something better? Maybe he was trying to feel for Yousof’s playstyle. Horus had the means to toy with him for as long as he wanted. He needed to gouge the god’s funds; otherwise, Horus would bleed him dry.

“All, five cards.” Dropping his hand, Yousof displayed his cards in full, earning a round of boos from the audience.

“What are you trying to pull here?”

“I told you, I didn’t want someone to win right out the gate.”

“Very well, now commencing the betting round. We will start with you, my liege,” the dealer announced.

“Two gold rings,” Horus replied, sliding the currency to the center of the board.

Yousof bit his lip, eying his hand. It was no quadruple King, but it could work under the right circumstances.

“Five gold rings,” he replied, dropping them on the table.

“Response?” the dealer turned toward Horus.

“I raise another three gold.”

“Do you raise, mortal?” Though the dealer’s mouth didn’t move, her voice was as grand (if not a bit robotic) as Horus’ own. She barely turned her head, but her blank eyes bore into his soul.

“Ten silver chips,” he said, pushing the stack towards the center.

“For someone so confident you’re being awfully stingy,” Horus laughed, “I thought you challenged me because you thought you could win.”

“Oh I’m sure. I am one hundred percent sure!” Yousof announced, “I’m just trying to keep this game interesting.”

Or upon further consideration, ninety-nine percent.

“Hah, very well then. I will concede,” the god chuckled.

The dealer nodded before turning towards Yousof.

“Horus has chosen not to raise. It is now time to make your choice, mortal. Stronger or weaker?”

Yousof glanced at his opponent before averting his eyes back to his own hand. He couldn’t think of a good reason for Horus to throw away a pair, even if it was low. And Yousof doubted that Horus would lay down obvious bait.

He had two high pairs, a ten and a jack. While that was on the lower end of winning hands the odds of getting a single pair or nothing were much higher than the other options. If Horus also had two pairs then they would need to be higher face cards.

But what if he has a joker. His face paled for a moment.

In reality the odds of pulling a joker were fairly high, one in fifty-three to start with but slightly higher with each draw. For a whole hand, it was ten percent which was larger than nearly every other winning combination.

“I choose stronger!”

“Very well. Commencing showdown!” the dealer declared, “please reveal your cards.”

Fuck.

If Horus’s falcon head could show any emotion he was sure the god would wear a shit-eating grin.

“A two pair versus three of a kind. Horus wins.”

Cheers erupted in the background with some even whistling in applause.

What had he gotten himself into? While the god pushed his winnings to his side of the table, the once-confident college student hunched over as the next set of cards was dealt. Horus read him like a book.

“Commencing round two.”

An ace of spades and four random cards. Cool. Coolcoolcool.

It was actually not very cool.

”Three cards please,” Yousof sighed.

If he was lucky he could go for a straight and if not, maybe cut his losses early.

“No cards.”

Seriously fuck that guy.

“Given that you lost the last round, you will be placing your bet first,” the dealer announced, turning over to Yousof.

“Five bronze pieces,” he nodded.

[color=#566D7E][b]“Hm.” Horus stroked his chin. “Twenty silver.”

“Fifteen silver.”

“Twenty-five.”

“One gold ring.”

“Ten gold rings.”

“I can’t beat that,” Yousof not so much said as muttered.

“Can you please repeat that?” the dealer asked.

“I...cannot beat that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Then the betting round is over. My liege, what do you choose?”

“I choose weaker,” Horus announced, his expression imperceptible.

“Please reveal your cards.”

Yousof laughed. It’s like he knew. The god just knew he exchanged into a good hand and punished him for it. He hadn’t known Horus to also be the god of telepathy, but maybe he just skipped that Egyptology lecture.

As each subsequent round began, Yousof stared at his dwindling stack of coins and subpar hands. Though he scavenged a few wins, he wouldn’t last many more rounds. Whether he won or lost was entirely up to the god’s whims; he could have easily ended the match if he wanted to, yet he kept his opponent on the precipice of defeat. Yousof wanted so badly to yell at the deity to stop toying with him. There was no other reason to keep torturing him except to assert his dominance.

I just don’t think it’ll work out. I need someone who’s more...ambitious.

Yousof grasped his head, crying out in pain. He could feel his heart pounding through his eardrums and his eyes welled up with each voice that entered his mind.

My son is so stupid. Why can’t he be like your son?

How many times do I have to tell you, you aren’t my son anymore?

What the fuck? Why are you here? Why are you yelling at me?

We took out all these loans and this is how you pay us back? Just what were you doing in school all these years?

Please, I didn’t mean to. I can do better, you know I can do better.

If you’re going to be a disgrace then leave.

I don’t want to go.

“Human, please pay the participation fee if you wish to participate in the next round.”

Just as quickly as they came, the voices faded, leaving Yousof a red-eyed mess. He reached to the floor to grab his cards, steadying his arm lest the shaking cause him to drop his hand again.

“You are free to concede anytime, mortal,” Horus shrugged, “there is no shame in a graceful defeat.”

Wiping his eyes, he gazed at his hand before throwing in a bronze piece.

Fuck that. If he was going to be a disgrace he’d go down fighting.

“How many cards will each of you exchange?” the dealer asked.

“Three...please.” Steeling himself, he handed a stack over to the woman before evaluating his new cards.

“One card,” Horus nodded.

“Proceeding to the betting round. Mortal, what is your bet?”

Poker was a game of bluffing, this variant even moreso. He couldn’t show hesitation.

“Five silver pieces and ten bronze pieces,” Yousof announced.

“Unfortunately, the fun ends here,” he sighed (though not particularly remorsefully), “I raise you thirty five gold rings.”

“Wait…”

“You’re out of funds, mortal.”

It was now or never.

“I bet my life!” Yousof yelled, standing up.

“Bahaha!” Horus’ laughter echoed through the room before the rest of the audience joined in, “what sort of offer is that? Our agreement was to gamble with currency.”

“You said you gave us our funds based on how much each person was worth so how is this different?”

Horus put down his cards before shaking his head.

“My valuation was a method of quantifying our starting value, not a loophole to keep gambling.”

Yousof glanced at the dealer pleadingly.

“My liege…”

“Tell me, what could your life possibly offer?”

“I might not be rich or famous or a god, but I’m not going to run away either,” he continued before slamming his hand down and leaning over the table. “I don’t care if you kill me, possess me, or turn me into one of them because I know I’m going to win.”

Silence fell over the stage as Yousof continued staring down his opponent. Whether he was a king, a god, or a hallucination with an overinflated ego, Horus’ divinity no longer had bearing on Yousof’s resolve. All he could hear was his heart beating in his ears and all he could feel was the fire coursing through his system.

“So are you going to raise or back down?”

For the first time Horus paused, his eyes no longer looking at Yousof, but rather at the prize pool before them. Leaning back in his chair he gestured for one of his followers to drop a pot on top of the table.

”Do you still believe you can beat me, Yousof?”

Yousof’s eyes widened for a second before balling his free hand into a fist.

“I’m not backing down.”

”As you have nothing else to raise with, Horus shall determine this round,” the dealer announced before turning to her ruler, ”Stronger or weaker?”

“This round shall be stronger.”

“Commencing showdown!”

Yousof hitched a breath as each player’s hand was revealed. Two royal flushes.

“Due to the tie, the two of you will split the pool equally,” the dealer announced.

Was this really happening? He knew he should have asked that question earlier, but even more so than a fever dream, the odds of both players getting a royal flush were nearly zero. The crowd’s jeers and Horus’ silence was enough for him.

Yousof more than doubled his pot and more importantly, this outcome wasn’t one of Horus’ doing. There was no acting in those bemused eyes or clenched fist. No amount of prediction could account for such low odds and on the zero percent chance that Horus cheated to assure victory then he did a terrible job of it.

And yet instead of prepping for another round, his astonishment turned into mirth.

”So you have finally stood up for yourself,” he smirked, ”I was afraid I’d have to hold your hand like the others.”

Hold my hand? What is he talking about?

Dropping back into his seat, Yousof moved to collect his earnings Horus held up a hand.

”There will be no need for that,” he said, ”this challenge is over.”

”No I’m not going to calm down. Tell me what’s going on!”

“Relax, lest you forget your purpose.”

With a wave of his hand, the audience, the table, and even Horus dissolved into sand, leaving Yousof and his joker basking in the moonlight.

Come back here, you coward! It took all his restraint to keep from yelling those words out loud and even more not to bang on the ground again. Instead, he laid on the ground, fidgeting with his card between his fingers.

He was so close to gaining a lead and for Horus to disappear like that was just unfair. He would have liked to say that Horus owed him an explanation of what was happening, where his friends were and how to leave, but truthfully, he just wanted to continue the game.

Closing his eyes, he wondered whether he would see that man again or if this room would be his final resting place. To die separated from his friends, family, and the computer he wished to be buried was a true tragedy, but at least he could say he say he trie-

Don’t you dare stop here!

Okay, okay calm down. Yousof flinched.

I thought you left.

Standing up, Yousof slipped his card back into his pocket and looked around. Across from him was the faint outline of a door that, as far as he knew, hadn’t existed when he was still playing.

Snippet #2821052

located in Testing Palace, a part of Gimme Storage, one of the many universes on RPG.

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