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As it was already strained, Lucius forced the fingers of his right hand open some millimeters again until it looked like a sword or rod could be fitted through the hole of his curled hand. It reminded him of an action figure, as he gave a single pant of effort. He gave an uncomfortable laugh, "Forgive me if it takes my turns a little longer. Obviously I must play with a handicap."

He pushed the coins off the side of the board into the awkward, claw-like cup of the opened right and then poured them out again.

“Three tails, and that's the five to start a hound on the board." He used both hands to by pressure lift a hound from the floor between them and slot it onto the board. This promised to be a sore game, much like trying to get dressed. It was worth the trade, he thought, for some sort of meager diversion and something closer to living for both of them. He scooped the dice again, getting two heads.
“Just make sure to keep the coins on the board. I don't think I could get them off the floor, flat on flat requires nails and fingertips, really."

(( we likely, for time sake, shouldn't play out the whole game, since that could take many, many rolls of the dice to get 5 3 tails just to even get all the pieces on the board. 0___0 ))

"Luck was with me often in my youth, a fair breeze beneath small wings. I think I am too dark and heavy for her most of the time now."

"Fast hands for a slow rule." He regarded the cold-coloured hand warmly, "And where do you develop that sort of skill? The dead aren't known for their rapidity of movement ....." Perhaps a leftover from his host? It feels strange to play with innuendo. I hardly know him.

As the game progressed, he considered that each of the star markers was itself a stake, in many of the old rules. Perhaps if they played again they could play like true kings, setting a stake for each date. Five prizes to win or lose, and a sixth for the who set of the game. Small wonder men would have lost whole kingdoms to the wagers.

What would the other wager, given different circumstances? What would Underworld wager, given back his kingdom of death, stillness and silence. He hoped it would not involve grave goods.

And himself? What could he wager, truly, that would be of worth to a king of funerals and solemn faces? He could remember the past...a night in the bed of the stars had been worth more then a world's worth of lives, not that it had been given except to one. But before hand-fasting, it had been. Jewels of stars, cloth woven of the sparkling pre-planetary fires and elements, crystal halls or lamplight worlds to fill halls and dreams. But what worth was any of it to a man who chose to listen to monotone hymns and smelled permanently of embalming fluids and dust?

Nergal did not seem all that horrible, as bad as that line of thought made him out to be. He may change, the gears had turned long before he had accepted the invitation to the game, becoming something more stolid and stern, but at least they would have this.

No matter how either of them changed.

He threw the coins on the board, and moved his first hound into one of the goal spaces. "Will you have servant jackals, when you rebuild your gates?"


((my suggestion is we roll a die and whomever rolls higher wins the game?))

It was like he hadn't even heard the inneundo. Infact, Lucius was sure he hadn't noticed by the solid set of the brooding on the other's brow. Was this situation wonderful, as he could probably get away with nearly anything....or sad, as they were trying to cheer each others company? Nergal was spilling concerns close to heart. Perhaps he needed that, someone to listen and hear them, not necessarily give advice. Still, a strange companionship to choose.

This was all a strange companionship to choose.

And he did feel young again for it, and wanted to get away with everything.

“Then take it not as a question of it will or won't happen. You are a god, and what is will move for you when you learn how. For now....if you could have anything....would you have jackals?"

Two tails and one head, he moved a hound only one space.

((edit: lol, 66. Looks like Nergal wins a close game after all ))

The next couple of tosses meant nothing to his benefit. The piece could only be moved into the goal on an exact number roll. The Hounds were stuck outside their goal, milling around without precise direction.

How true to life, starting well and then getting confused and stagnating.

"The jackals aren't the ones throwing the coins, " he chided lightly. What was the saying? Don't shoot the messenger? Though his own coin tosses could use a pick me up. Alas that the game was so simple, based on chance, that no strategy could avail either of them to do better. Though the cup of luck was slowly re-balancing. The Jackals were gaining.

He was not very talkative, this Underworld. Though their silences could hopefully be companionable enough. Time would tell, he hoped for the better. This was a good start, a good first throw.

"Should you desire it, though I have no implements here in my apartments. You'd have to go down to the kitchen." It was part apology. His rooms were far from convenient anymore. He should either change that or find a new place to be anyway. It was becoming less and less tolerable.


"I'd always just made use of the commons, especially since I was ....Harmodius' primary servant and support. I'd see to a great deal of everything. If I was going to clean it, why not use it. Do you have apartments here in the Pantheon, Underworld?"

EDIT: I can type >_<

It was easy to move on, push it all away and aside now. He'd spent months dwelling on it all. The emotions and memories of that whole life were intimate and unnecessary right now. Not for sharing. It never went anywhere useful. Pity was not known to dwell long in the kingdom of the dead in fore-days anyway....nor was it pity he would ever seek.

Besides, there was more interest in the nigh-gossip the other god vaguely offered about himself. Furtive, hunted glances down accompanied by faintest blushes on pallored cheeks. This Lady echo whom he lived with....
"You so emphatically assert that it is a separate arrangement. She is a crush of yours?"

It was forward to come out and say it, but it seemed more natural and wise to be forthright with the other then going for elaborate waltzes of etiquette. Besides, this was an attempt at friendship. It wasn't as if his own love life weren't open game for the butt-end of jokes. It was certainly a well-known tabloid.

He frowned at the game board once, tapping a hound on the head, "You shame your good start. "

"How lucky the love, so earnestly sought. How joyful the heart it finds. " The trembles did not escape his notice, even one-eyed. He had sought such clues himself, ages ago. Had felt them himself, a life ago. "It doesn't seem as though you are accustomed to courting, but instinct and perseverance will probably serve where experience lacks. You can discover everything together. "

"Both loves are reborn, as well, if you seek council. But you seem wise enough....or at least good at guesses and judging things for certain. " He gave a small smile. Judges of law weren't always the best at matters of the heart. But deductive reasoning should help the fellow at least with choosing gifts and favors to bring. What dates to take her on.

The jackals had pulled ahead of the hounds. Lucius fluffed his wings, flapping them once with mock-agitation with another useless throw of the coins.