ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜʀɪᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ꜱɪɴɢ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɓuı⋊ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇ ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ɪɴ ᴅɪᴍ ɐsoɔɹɐƆ.

"Indeed. And still it is odd, isn't it?" The two cards fly into her hands. The two kings. And the seat before her lies empty. "How you miss the forest for the trees. Now, Larina. . . . 𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊.

"Again. It is not an opinion." His brow furrows. Jallo doesn't like to be second guessed.

He flips his hand. Two kings. One faceless. In yellow. One she knows. In a grim red helmet. "Why else would he protect you like such?"

"You ask me to give you what you have, and to tell you what you know. I feel a bit scammed myself." He grins, from ear to ear. Not in a negative manner though. The rats pick up the deck. Bringing it his way. To shuffle now. Only with his fingertips.

"That is not true. And you know it." He sends two cards. Face down. "Cruel men wander the highest spheres of the world. They eat and violate the littlest. With complete impunity behind the shield of the dollar." The King. The Eagle, bald, and rotten, strangling a mouse. "Beastly wolves ~>

"You simply already have someone who dearly loves you. Surely you don't take me for some two bit scammer trying to sell water to fish." He folds. Nothing interesting in his hand. Sometimes intervention is unneeded.

That is two supermen following me. If I had a nickle for every time I'd still be paid more than child workera.

((EVENT: DOOMSDAY)) ((11/24- Who knows?))

"And I don't speak of them." He nods. Tapping the table softly.

Be careful.

/ grell muse overload, i need to write.

A finger against her forehead. He pushes her back. Stay away. "Can it be called "power" if it is within my nature? Is a bird's power to fly, or man's to kill? No. No powers. Not in the sense you do."

"Not that either. I don't have a name, and I don't know what I am." He shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't. I can't. It was torn from me. You *are* loved. Dearly. Madly." He smiles. Sincerely. He's not made of stone.

Her own name. Full. Returned. His lips curl into a grin of white daggers. "Pointless to look for something I never had, Misa."

His glance raises from his hand. And a decision is made. "I cannot give you what you have. It is silly." The chips spill upon the center in a large blind, as a rat is gently squished.

Because I'm not. I never needed something as worthless as worship.

A lot of things. I am the best and worst of your kind. And I always seek amusement.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 '𝐂𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬

... Not really, but it's funny you went there.

"I'll hear it." He reaches over, cutting the deck before reshuffling it. Passing it to her for her to be the dealer.

I don't think we like the same ones.

No.

I think I can, actually.

Nothing.

"The rats are rats. They don't know prayer or temples. They follow me for the same reason they follow each other." He notes. Scritching one of the creatures, confusedly nuzzling his hand. "Their tiny brain cannot retain what they once were."

Makes sense.

You heard of Margaret Thatcher?

That's your opinion.

Why would I want yours though-

Body theft.

Bofff... stopped counting last enthropy.

No.

No. That didn't make a lick of sense.

Oh, nice. Little clap.

Skill issue.

"Gods are worshipped. I could care less for believers or followers. I suffer not from the weaknesses of pride." He gently scratches the chips once they return to their form. Offering her the deck to shuffle. "I would rather trade fair and square. I wear no mask."

Truly a rat then //is that mun or muse saying it? Y'all will never know

I think this one was a banker.

"Good thing I'm no god then." A nine and a ten. Both of yellow hearts. A Straight. "Sure. What is it you wish for? You strike me as the type who longs for... normalcy. In a way. Or perhaps revenge." The chips shift colour. As they sprout millipede like legs to crawl to his pile.

//GIVE ME A MATT MURDOCK ACCOUNT DOWN FOR ROMANCE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 😭🙏 She narrowly avoided losing an eye to a poker chip. That didn't mean the bonk hurt any less. So much for being nice to the rats. "Love of the game it is, then. I don't bet. Not my style."->

And that was my first impression with a mortal. I need a pr agent.

La rata Mu~ La rata Mu~ La rata Mu~ La misma rata!

"No. I cannot lie. Not consciously anyways." Doesn't mean he can't be dishonest or deceitful in other ways. But it isn't the case. He is currently testing the waters. "We're playing for the love of the game right now." The rat hisses. It almost bites her. Before a chip fires from his fingers~>

"They're losers." He can't kill. Yes. But these rats are odd. They stand bipedal every chance they get. As if trying to cling to what was. And their intelligent little eyes are locked on her. With mixed reactions of amusement and terror.

"The past can be stolen from a woman just as well as the future can be stolen from a girl. The only shift is in the mechanisms that allow it. Systematic grooming is certainly more complex than a bullet though." He calls. The rat pushes the chips, as a few others join them at the table. Some~>

"No. That is not a trait of the reckless. But the proud. Those who think themselves invincible." For a stranger to man, he seems to have somewhat of a grip. But not that of empathy, but of a zoologist peering at an animal. He spreads the cards. The King, wearing his somber red helmet, ~>

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 '𝐂𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬