Jesus that was a lucky break. It was like he'd practically willed it into existence with an intense gaze and a constant low mantra of 'come on you fucker'.
It was a lucky break that meant more than any money he could win. Those chips were useless to him (even if that extra few thousand would feel nice weighing down his pocket), it's the message he's given with that gamble and, more importantly, with that win. He's got the balls to take a risk and succeed with it, and just maybe that single card has bolstered his own confidence a little too much, but he won't be stupid about this. Probably. God, but it's tempted to just throw himself head first into this now that he's got the guy he needs.
But no, he'd be smart. He'd listen and observe and consider his options while this guy talks shit about how this is all going to go. It's something he's heard a million times before, but he should give this guy more credit than that. Stereotypical or not, this Armando knew what he was doing. He'd known Ray was a cop in seconds, even with Ray's less than usual look about him, and even with that knowledge he'd decided to approach and play him anyway rather than chuck him out of the establishment. So there was some interest there, or maybe he just knew Ray would keep coming back again and again until one of them put a bullet between his eyes. Either way the two of them were sat here playing two different games with two different agendas and only one of them would eventually win.
Ray's just considering his line of questioning, of how and when he's going to get a chance to do it when his thoughts are interrupted by two simple words that set him on edge; toy soldier. This fucker. This fucker knows exactly why Ray's and what he wants, and he knows about Fraser. Those words weren't merely a coincidence, they were an obvious jab at the Mountie that Ray had come in search for and by God if they'd done anything to him...
With a soft exhale of forced amusement, Ray drops his gaze, jaw clenching and offering up a thin lipped smile as he tries to push himself to count to ten. It's a red mist clouding his judgement, one that he needs to get rid of before he does anything stupid. Don't be reckless, don't be reckless, don't be--
Fuck that.
With a snarl he's launching himself over the table with no grace, feet scrabbling against the green baize as he grapples for a hold on Armando's lapels and swing his right fist upwards in an obvious threat, all quite the feat considering the space he covers to get there.]
no subject
An actual ace.
Jesus that was a lucky break. It was like he'd practically willed it into existence with an intense gaze and a constant low mantra of 'come on you fucker'.
It was a lucky break that meant more than any money he could win. Those chips were useless to him (even if that extra few thousand would feel nice weighing down his pocket), it's the message he's given with that gamble and, more importantly, with that win. He's got the balls to take a risk and succeed with it, and just maybe that single card has bolstered his own confidence a little too much, but he won't be stupid about this. Probably. God, but it's tempted to just throw himself head first into this now that he's got the guy he needs.
But no, he'd be smart. He'd listen and observe and consider his options while this guy talks shit about how this is all going to go. It's something he's heard a million times before, but he should give this guy more credit than that. Stereotypical or not, this Armando knew what he was doing. He'd known Ray was a cop in seconds, even with Ray's less than usual look about him, and even with that knowledge he'd decided to approach and play him anyway rather than chuck him out of the establishment. So there was some interest there, or maybe he just knew Ray would keep coming back again and again until one of them put a bullet between his eyes. Either way the two of them were sat here playing two different games with two different agendas and only one of them would eventually win.
Ray's just considering his line of questioning, of how and when he's going to get a chance to do it when his thoughts are interrupted by two simple words that set him on edge; toy soldier. This fucker. This fucker knows exactly why Ray's and what he wants, and he knows about Fraser. Those words weren't merely a coincidence, they were an obvious jab at the Mountie that Ray had come in search for and by God if they'd done anything to him...
With a soft exhale of forced amusement, Ray drops his gaze, jaw clenching and offering up a thin lipped smile as he tries to push himself to count to ten. It's a red mist clouding his judgement, one that he needs to get rid of before he does anything stupid. Don't be reckless, don't be reckless, don't be--
Fuck that.
With a snarl he's launching himself over the table with no grace, feet scrabbling against the green baize as he grapples for a hold on Armando's lapels and swing his right fist upwards in an obvious threat, all quite the feat considering the space he covers to get there.]
Where is he, scumbag?