7twistedwishes | Viva Bedazzled Las Vegas

The Devil smiles brightly to him. "Thank you dear... but I am just trying to look as good as you." Lets be clear, Weyland has a really handsome presence, he has panache and style.

Or at least that is what Scarlet thinks. "You strike as a man of poker, blackjack or baccarat."

"And I'm just trying not to get thrown out for being so far beneath your league," he says with a smile.

"And yes--I've never been one for games of pure chance. I like to play against others, see how their skills compare to mine. I've always been the competitive sort."

"So... poker? I bet you can do a very, very good poker face, and intimidate the fools." The Devil winks, walking along with him. "Or shall we go straight into Baccarat, the game that separates the men from boys?"

Oh yes, the first stop is the cashier, where they can get a reasonable amount of chips. "A hundred thousand sounds good for a start? I think a chemin de fer round is about to start over there.

"I am at your command, liebchen," he says, glancing around at the tables. "I doubt anyone would be much competition for you--you would be a joy to watch."

"Oh, no, you play. I watch." She moves to whisper in his ear. "And I distract the other players too."

"As you like," he murmurs, nodding. "Though I'm not sure this crowd particularly needs both of us to defeat them. You could do it just fine on your own, without my even playing."

"I know. But I like not just to win, but to win in style. Whoever loses to me must lose in a very throughout way." She takes they chip tray with that hundred thousand. "Shall we?"

"Of course," he says. "For my part, I like the extent of the loss to fit the height of the pride involved. The more convinced someone is that he can beat me, and do it easily, the more thoroughly I like to defeat him."

"Hmm, delicious..." She tiptoes to kiss his lips, smiling afterwards. "We need to find someone very arrogant and full of Pride... to grind to dust."

Maybe even entice some Wrath on the way, she hopes.

He leans down to nuzzle her ear.

"I imagine that should be easy to find here. That man--that one over there in the grey suit, with that woman I'm sure he's paying. He looks like a good candidate."

"Hmm, yes, he does." The Devil slips her arm into Weyland's and moves with him to the Baccarat table.

GreySuit eyes them, sizing up the smith and ogling the fallen angel.

He walks along with her, sizing the man up in return--but discreetly. Best not to show too much interest.

No, as far as anyone needs to know, he is just a man out for an evening at a casino with a beautiful woman who is probably not his wife.

The Devil plays her part, eye-candy and companion, staying close to her man, studiously ignoring GreySuit.

That, of course, has the man riled, since Weyland's woman is much, much more tempting and attractive than the plain mortal with him.

Welcome, Envy.

Of course she's much more tempting and attractive. She's easily the most attractive person in the room.

Weyland, though, slips into the role of a small-town man aspiring to worldliness--surely this must be his first time at such a casino.

GreySuit falls for it: he takes the ham-fisted approach to the game, banking high, betting high, trying to bluff his way into winning.

The Devil plays coy, seeming to be increasingly interested on his abusive money-use, to keep him down the same track.

She knows Weyland can outmaneuver the man and the other players: GreySuit is just being given plenty of rope to hang himself with.

Weyland alternates between playing overly cautiously and, now and then, after watching Scarlet, overly carelessly. He wins a little, loses considerably more, but acts like he is trying very hard to hold her interest.

And The Devil continues with her game, letting Weyland pick the time to reel in the catch and leave the other players poor.

He lets it unwind for a little while longer, acting as though he is worried about possibly losing her to bigger spenders and more successful gamblers, until the moment when he is sure that GreySuit is paying more attention to Scarlet than to the game.

Then he is all in, and very much in control of the game.

And blinded by arrogance, GreySuit keeps betting high and hard. He only notices the fall when he is suddenly broke... and Weyland is controlling the table completely. His companion already vacated the premises after seeing her 'sugar daddy' lose all.

The Devil flashes the man a daring smirk, while rubbing her companion's shoulders and back.

Oh, yes.

"You're my lucky charm, dearest," he murmurs, before stealing a kiss from Scarlet, ignoring GreySuit completely.

A lucky charm that GreySuit can't even dream of having.

"Not just your lucky charm, dear..." She kisses back, slipping arms around Weyland's neck.

Greysuit just about shrivels, muttering inanely about being cheated... silly man should not complain, he is not totally broke... just penniless for the rest of his trip, and he just lost his escort too.

In Weyland's experience it's the men who have the most who get the most upset about losing anything; where men who have little understand that things can always get worse, and so they are grateful to have anything left at all.

He gives her a smile. "I'm in the mood for a drink, I think."

"A very expensive one?" The Devil kisses him, grinning, resisting the urge to straddle his lap.

That would cause a stir around the place, her dress riding up that much...

It certainly would.

But he is content to nibble at her ear instead, secure in the knowledge that they are envied.

"The most expensive one they have," he murmurs. "Tell me, do you like diamonds?"

"Oh dear... diamonds are a girl's best friends." She leans closer to whisper hotly into his ear. "After wonderful men like you. Going to get me a diamond?"

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