[Santo - Resorts and Casinos]

[walk_ins]

[master post]

This is what Santo is known for.

The resorts are huge complexes, with the expected divisions and outlying areas: pools, rooms, a spa, theaters, courses for games (golf is still around, but it's not quite like it used to be), and others.

Those others include casinos.

Some are nicer than others. Some are glitzier than others. Some are more dangerous than others. None have an interest in letting any guests make any real money.

Still, they're worth a visit, if you're into that sort of thing.

Comments

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo was walking alone.

She's not against company.

It simply happened this way.



She'd managed to score a cotton candy earlier.

Looking nearer to angelic, eating it with her fingers, she was eying one of the seedier places.

[badinlatin]

"Someone's goin' to pick on you, you walkin' around like that."

Mal smiles at the blonde, trying to be sociable. "Jo, right? Saw you comin' on this morning."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo eyebrows raised, eyes laughing.

She feigned, focusing on eating the pink cotton candy off her pointer finger.

"Yup."

[badinlatin]

Response could be to either comment, and Mal remembers the ambiguity for later.

"Been able to find anything amusing?"

[tobeclosetohim]

"Some."

Then she held out the pink cloud to him.

With a smirk that wasn't so innocent in amusement.

"Cotton candy?"

[badinlatin]

"Don't mind if I do."

Mal rips off a small piece for himself, far less poised than Jo had been a moment ago.

"Mmm. Not bad -- actual spun sugar, too. Kind o' surprising."

[tobeclosetohim]

Quizzical eyebrow lift.

"They don't have sugar, normally?"

[badinlatin]

"Not really. Not that refined, anyhow."

Mal spares her from the explanation the variety of uses of molded protein.

"Don't that hurt your teeth none? The sugar, I mean?"

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo is grateful for the sparing.

Also -- Ew.


"Not yet."

She said with glee and more pink got consumed.

"Tooth brushes solve the problems of sugar."

[badinlatin]

"Well. Yeah."

Dot Dot Dot Subject Change!

"So -- need a tour guide at all? I had been heading back to the ship..."

[tobeclosetohim]

"Depends."

Oh.

It was the return of the smirk.

"What can you tell me about these places?"

[badinlatin]

"Well. Santo's pretty much where you want to go if you want to have fun without the Morality Police over your shoulder.

"If that's your ball and chain, of course. Most folk just come here to blow off steam, spare parts and coin."

[tobeclosetohim]

Amusement switched to intrigue.

She studied the places entrances.

"If my winnings aren't Earthen can I trade them in?"

[badinlatin]

"That you can -- the Bar converts credits and platinum and all as well as anything else you might happen to win."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo ate another strand of cotton candy.

Toyed with it against her lips.

"Do you play?"

[badinlatin]

"Play what, precisely? You might find the games bein' slightly different, here."

[tobeclosetohim]

"Did assume so."

Jo smiled wryly.

"It being another planet an' all."

She waved the cotton candy near her chest.

Her expression has shifted to pouting and confused.

But her eyes were wide and laughing.

"I am certain someone would help, little old, me to understand the rules."

[badinlatin]

"You're goin' to be a troublemaker, and I'm stating right here and now I do not pay bail."

Nor does he look entirely unamused by the concept.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo's confused edged into nearly wounded.

It was follow by a sniff sound.




Then a wolfish grin.


"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Mon Capitán."

[badinlatin]

"Don't start with me, young one. I mean it."

He's fairly convincing, even with Jo throwing Feminine Wiles at him.

"You're here 'cause I been told you weren't unmanagable amounts of trouble. Play nice.





"'Sides, what games you trying to learn, anyhow?"

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo liked that idea being spread.

Better than the others that could.



"Something fast. And fun. They do still have card games in them, right?"

[badinlatin]

"Definitely. You just might not recognize the card decks if you're from Earth-that-Was."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo nodded.

"Same world as Dean and Sam."

She was still looking at the casino.

"How different?"

[badinlatin]

"Finish your cotton candy."

No point in her going into the casino looking younger than she already does.

[tobeclosetohim]

But that's the point!


The pink fluff was vanished into Jo's mouth.

The conquering would have made young children proud.

[badinlatin]

Okay. Ew.

"Alright, let's go in."

It's a little like the cutting-room floor of 'Blade Runner' meets the class and advanced architecture of 'Legends of the Hidden Temple'.

Mal doesn't gamble on Santo very often.

"Okay -- pick a game you recognize the most, and I'll try to tell you best as can how it might be different."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo looked around.

"People still play poker? Or a derivation from it?

[badinlatin]

"Closest thing we got common is Long Pai, which is poker with five suits, and different face cards. We use fruit. It's a thing."

[tobeclosetohim]

The skeptical look was Jo.

"Fruit?"

[badinlatin]

...

"Apples and the like?"

Mal's looking curious, more than confused. Maybe there's actually a rendition of Earth-that-Was where fruit was just as scarce as it is now.

[tobeclosetohim]

"Guess it's no stranger than other things."

The image of Mal playing Memory might be behind her impish smile.

"We've got kid's card games with fruit back home."

[badinlatin]

"Hrmph.

"This ain't a kids' game. Okay; here's a good table."

Good table, here, is describing a circular regulation poker table, with purple, white, and red hexagonal chips. The deck of cards is circular, and there appears to be something reminiscent of a Texas Hold-Em spread in the middle of the table itself.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo looked at the table set up speculatively.

"Is different," she commented.


Then.

"Which bid amount goes to which color?"

[badinlatin]

"Purple's one, white's five, red's ten. Sit down if you want.

"Don't. Deal in. Yet."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo gives him a look, with smile, that says she gets that part.

Taking a chair, she was looking over the people.

[badinlatin]

The people were looking her over as well.

That also seems to stop when Mal returns at Jo's side with a modest tray of chips.

"You owe me fifty credits in the bar if you tank this," Mal whispers. "I can't sit here with you, but go for it."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo grinned at the free chips. It was much better to lose someone else's money before losing her own.

"I can find you once I've given this all a go," she said easily.

[badinlatin]

Mal does his best to not laugh.

"Fine," Mal offers magnanimously. "Have fun."

[tobeclosetohim]

It took the better part of five hours before Jo returned to Mal.




She had lost all fifty credits worth of his chips.

Then forty-eight credits worth of her own money.



Then twenty-four of the thirty credits of guy who staked her, miraculously, from her left side (who was either amused at her spectacularly obstinate tenacity in the face of epic failure or her fanning her chest with her cards) before she won a hand.

She didn't manage to card shark a table. It wouldn't be possible that day.

Or any other day remotely near it. That would take time and a Milliways deck.


The game went slow and steady, fast and heated, and she learned player tics even faster.

She managed to win back Mal's amount.

Then half of her own.

By this time, growing bored with the table and slightly worried about her possibly outstanding debt to her staker (whose debt still wasn't as important compared to the captain who controlled her ride home), she had joked to Uriel (her staker) that she could either continue playing to pay him back or he could have her company for dinner.

He took her up on the latter.

---

Dinner was a strange assortment of dishes which looked almost familiar and dishes that didn't look edible. Jo didn't let either show, just went for it after telling him it was her first time on Santo.

He was an entrepreneur from Persephone, who did something with knocking down and renovating houses. That part hadn’t been all that interesting. Even if she’d nodded and smiled a lot.

He was the kind of guy who laughed a bit too loud, drank a bit too much, wore just a tad too much in the way of ostentatious accessories.

He mentioned a name enough time she pegged it for a girl friend, and asked bluntly. It gave him cause to sweat until she pointed out she really could care less. Apparently she was pretty and they got on well, but she wasn’t vacation material.

Jo managed to escape after one very sloppy kiss and having her shoulder grubbily manhandled.

After reminding him she had said her ship was leaving not to long after the meal. Three times.

---

Five hours later, from when Mal left her, found Jo strolling out of the seedy casino.

Credits in her pockets after the chips had been switched out.

Grinning quietly and pulling down sunglasses she hadn't previously had.

[badinlatin]

...O_o is really the only reaction to that.

Mal'd stopped by the casino once an hour -- most of the guests from Milliways had been given a comm radio in dire emergencies, so he didn't feel the need to stick around.

He holds out his hand, first. Time to pay up. Reactions later.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo handed over his money.

She cocked her head, slightly, before taking a step right.

(Mal's height versus Jo's just managed to block Uriel's retreating form.)


"I'm going to need more practice. Does anyone play in Milliways?"

[badinlatin]

"Me."

Mal leans inward, almost conspiratorially.

"I don't get faint over pretty lil' blonde girls."

With a tone that distinctly implies both amusement at the situation and the sizable hypocrisy of the comment. At least, hypocrisy at one point in his life.

"'Sides, I don't gamble to take other people's money."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo smirked.

"What do you gamble to take then?"

[badinlatin]

"You'll know it when you see it."

Mal extends his right arm, crooked, to Jo.

"Ready to head back?"

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo looked from his arm back up at the casino.

Her lips curled at the edges, then she looked back with a nod slipping her arm into his.

"Yeah. I'm good for that."

[bothbutneither.livejournal.com]

He's good-looking and he knows it, but he hasn't felt this beautiful in a long time. It's mostly due to the drop-dead-gorgeous woman on his arm: she brings it out in him. Sure, they had dates back at the bar, but when a man's reduced to wearing two outfits -- one of which is a blood-stained dress -- it makes the dress-up portion of the evening leave a little something to be desired.

Tonight, they've both pulled out all the stops. There's no formalwear rule at this casino, but it's how they've chosen to dress. Faye is absolutely stunning in a long slinky burgundy number, skirt slit all the way to her hip, heels taller than God, the ruby necklace he gave her gracing her throat, her makeup done to perfection. There's no way he could match that vision of beauty, but he's done all right for himself. Black suit jacket, black silk shirt, black tie, black trousers. He's no stranger to dressing up but this... it's a special treat when his clothes match his hair and the only color is the blue of his eyes.

They turn heads and both of them know it. This is the perfect way to spend their money: it's a once-in-a-lifetime (and he uses that term lightly) chance to actually enjoy a vacation.

Casino chips for all, and Faye's in her element. She prowls like a lioness, eyes glittering, a satisfied smirk on her lips: she knows what she's doing. Poker is her game. He knows it's definitely not his, so he presses a quick possessive kiss to the side of her face -- can't ruin that perfect lipstick, can he -- and excuses himself to the nearby slot machines. Chips become tokens; he sits where he can watch her without intruding. It fills him with a lot of satisfaction to notice that every now and again from behind her increasingly large pile of chips, she looks over and catches his eye just long enough so he knows she hasn't forgotten him in favor of the game.

In turn he toasts her with the drink that appeared at his elbow in exchange for a kind word and a tip, smiles in a light and flirtatious way, and goes back to the slots. He's never had much luck gambling but he seems to be holding his own tonight, surprisingly: he doubts it's because the universe owes him any favors. Slot machines are all fate.

There's a sudden ching-ching-ching and he looks down: three sevens grace the center row and suddenly people are looking, nodding, pointing, smiling. That's something: reaching for a bucket, he scoops his tokens into it and stands, nodding once to Faye before he goes over to cash everything in. The money here is different from anything he's used to but he understands its value as well as anything: he's tripled his money while Faye's poker game is still in progress.

There's a tip for the banker; his cash goes into his inside chest pocket and he moves to a different area of the room, his eyes on Faye the whole time. She's beautiful: now her head's back in laughter, now her lower lip's between her teeth in mock worry, now one eyebrow's raised in an I told you so gesture and all the while, she's perfectly poised and perfectly composed.

Perfectly stunning. Stopping a passing hostess to order another drink, he tucks a folded bill into her hand as she goes. It's nice to have disposable income and he knows before long he'll make his way over to the poker table and see if he can't share his luck with the most beautiful woman at the casino.

Besides, she's already attracting a lot of attention and he needs to go reassert his claim. They walked into this room together and they'll walk out together and no matter when it happens, they're already significantly richer than they were when they arrived. When his drink is delivered he raises it to Faye: she looks so happy... in a predatory sort of way, and watching her is such a thrill.

But knowing she's leaving with him afterwards is what puts the real smile on his face.

And then... he's pretty sure he hears the word cheating and the sound of angry voices gets louder and louder, and he stands and straightens the edges of his jacket and steps forward.

Good thing they had a nice luxurious dinner before they got here, because something tells him their time enjoying the seductive sights and sounds of the casino is about to be cut short.

[anythingbutblue]

What babies.

"Now, now, boys." Raking her chips together, she prepares to make a stylish and almost hasty exit. "Some of us are just lucky, hmm?"

She's not in the habit of calling herself lucky with a straight face unless it's in a situation like this. She has been pretty lucky: the cards here aren't quite the same as she's used to, and she's gotten an unexpected crash course in the differences and similarities in the deck and the game that would throw a casual player for a loop. But she didn't draw Gordon's comparisons to Poker Alice for nothing, thank you, and this is what she enjoys. It's what she does.

What she did.

It started as a low accusation, but by the time she spots Gren again and catches his eye, it's nearing more of a dull roar.

She doesn't see any sign of casino security -- yet, anyway -- but the guy who started everything stands and very deliberately reaches into the long coat he hasn't taken off all night and...

A hand wraps around her wrist and forcibly tugs her away. Chips scatter, a gunshot rings out, and people start shouting and ducking for cover.

"Mister Saxophone!"

It's Gren again, playing the knight in shining armor, and at the same time it's surprising and anything but, and his dark hair flies out behind him as he weaves them down an aisle of shiny slot machines, not even letting on that he's heard her.

"My chips," she can't help mourning, casting a disappointed look back toward the reacting crowd. The three she's clutching so tightly in her hand that they'll leave imprints are all she has left.

Damn it.

When Gren takes a sudden left through the casino, she spies the reason: two well-dressed men -- one with a headset -- who must be security. Gunshots break out again not too far behind them, and it sounds like Mister I-Take-Poker-Too-Personally has friends.

A bullet hits the chandelier over their head, and they both, his hand still grasping her wrist, practically dive out from underneath it, but not before glass shards have a chance to rain down on them. Adrenaline takes over like wildfire. They're only still for a heartbeat or two, but another bullet ricochets off the slot machine behind her, level with her chest and narrowly missing.

"Watch it!" Bitter, she sticks her hand into one of the hip-high slits on her dress to finally draw her gun, and as she's urged along again, she takes a moment to return fire.

In a minute it becomes clear that Gren's angling for a side exit, and she goes from being tugged along and sending a few choice shots back behind them to running alongside him, gun in one hand and chips in the other, and shooting to clear their way out.

The night air has a very slight chill to it, and stepping out into it is almost like surfacing after holding her breath underwater. She needs to reload, but they're not in the clear and don't have the time yet to stop for a second.

Still, she lets out a sudden laugh.

It's about a block away that they duck down an alley and she reloads, and it's a lot more than that before she gets the impression that they've managed to lose anybody who followed them out of the casino. By the time they find their way back to the Serenity, they're breathless and furtive and looking elegantly guilty.

And her laughter's proven itself contagious.