Fast Eddies, Wednesday evening

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

There was a largeish, ragged-edged grey cloud hovering over the pool tables in Fast Eddies. Occasionally, a golden glow would flicker inside of it, giving the appearance of hidden lightning.

The flickering lights generally coincided with Marcus rolling his eyes up to glare at the stratocumulus pain in the ass, which had been following him around all day. He didn't glare too hard, however; getting struck by lightning (even if it had been only a tiny bolt) had been more than enough for one day.

Annoying the cloud might be, but it hadn't stopped him from taking a couple of the locals for a pile of cash (during which the cloud had turned rather embarassing shades of pink and orange while Marcus had been bathed in sunshine. Inside a building. He'd decided to ignore that). Of course, now no one wanted to play him.

With a small shrug, Marcus racked the balls and methodically began clearing the table. It was much easier than he remembered it being.

[Post is available for all your Fast Eddies needs; Marcus, too, is available, but only until 8:30 est, as after that I cannot answer pings.]

Comments

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"Run out of people to take money from?" Kyle asked. He'd been there a while, but not in sight. He liked to think he was pretty good at keeping out of sight when he wanted to.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus didn't look up, simply kept considering the table, then took a few steps to the left and sunk three balls. The cloud brightened; Marcus ignored it. "Looks like it, unless you want to volunteer."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle shrugged. "I don't know how to play and I don't have much money." Not until he went back to his cache anyway.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

He straightened and considered Kyle in much the same way he'd considered the table. The cloud over his head rumbled quietly, flicking through varous shades of grey, then brightened as Marcus walked over, stopping an arms length away from Kyle, and held out the cue. "Take it."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle eyed him warily before reaching out to take the cue. There was nothing attached to it. What was the catch?

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

There may or may not have been the slightest hint of eyeroll, with accompanying cloud ripple, as Marcus turned away to grab another cue off the wall and moved back to the table. "Here," he said, pointing to the spot next to him.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Straightening, Kyle adjusted his grip on the cue and followed Marcus' lead. "Nice storm cloud."

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus glanced up at the cloud, which rumbled again in a way he would have been prepared to swear sounded smug, then flicked a quick glare at Kyle. "Hold it like this." He demonstrated, then leaned over to line up a shot. "Hit the white into a colour, knock it into a pocket," he said, then proceeded to do just that.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"Why do you hit the white?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

"It's how you play pool," was the simple answer. He picked up the white, placed it near Kyle, then picked up a striped ball and placed it in front of the white, setting up an easy shot into the corner pocket. "The other rules can wait."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle tried to line up the cue, but couldn't figure out how to balance the front with his left hand while his right hand held onto the back of it. His shot clipped the white ball, sending it spinning in place. It didn't touch the striped ball.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus shook his head. His own personal cloud flashed, and rumbled, and generally made a nuisance of itself. "Grip it light." He carefully arranged his fingers, placing them deliberately on the base so Kyle could see what he was doing. "Support it, don't strangle it. Other hand." Left hand firmly planted on the table, he formed a V with his thumb and first finger and rested the cue in it. "Guides the cue to the ball." He mimed taking a shot in slow motion. "See?"

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"I see it," Kyle replied, a little irritated. "It's doing it that I don't get." He managed to get his left hand mimicking Marcus', but he still held onto the cue too tightly. When he followed through, he hit the ball at a bad angle, which in turn hit the striped ball at a bad angle and he nearly took Marcus' eye out with the cue tip.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus ducked, reaching out to catch the tip of Kyle's cue in one hand. His little cloud rumbled again, and spread out, getting larger and brighter. "Relax," he said, more amused than irritated. "When you shoot, how do you hold the gun?"

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"When I shoot, I don't have to think about it because I've been doing it since I could walk." Not true. He was 6. He tried to relax though, even though Marcus being right there worried him a little.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

That got him a long look, but all Marcus said was, "Grip a gun that tight, and you're not gonna hit anything you want to hit. The cue's the same." He let go of Kyle's cue and took a step back, his cloud scudding after him. "Try again."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

He stood upright. "What am I trying to do? Hit the ball with the stick or use the stick to push that ball into the other ball?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

The rumbling cloud was a good indication that Marcus didn't have a lot of patience for teaching. It wasn't something he'd exactly made a habit of, but he'd started this, and it wasn't like he had anything else to do. "It's a cue, not a stick. Hit the ball with the tip of the cue, get it moving so that it hits the other ball and knocks it into a pocket."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle glanced up at the cloud, unimpressed. He lowered his head to focus on the ball and slowed things down this time. He halved the power he was hitting the ball with and managed this time to knock the ball into the pocket. He straightened. "Like that?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus nodded, leaning on his cue, and the cloud took on distinctly positive, almost cheerful, overtones. Marcus pretended not to notice. "Magic."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Every once in a while, Marcus said something that struck a chord with Kyle. It was a hint that this was the Marcus he'd known, in some way. "Your cloud keeps changing."

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

"Yeah." He shot another quick glare at the cloud, which responded with a teeny flash of lightning. "This happen a lot here?" he asked, pointing at it.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"Not the weather. Other weather sometimes. Things coming from the sky that shouldn't. Weird stuff, yeah."

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

His cloud went briefly dark, roiling ominously, but he shook it off. "Want to play?" he asked. "No money."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"Sure." He didn't move. "You'll have to set up."

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus had figured, and was already moving to do just that. Silently, he lifted the rack and stepped back. "You can break." He paused, then simply and succinctly explained what that meant, and ran through the rules.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle listened and nodded to show he was paying attention. Then he went to break. The balls hardly separated, but it still counted. Weakly.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

It wasn't bad for the kid's first try, and Marcus gave him a nod. Then he stepped forward, lined up a shot, and sunk a solid. It was too easy, the balls almost seeming to sink themselves, as he dropped another, and then another. He was in the zone: calm, easy, relaxed.

At least he was until a garish rainbow bathed the table, and Marcus, in brilliant multi-coloured light. It startled him enough that he missed an unbelievably easy shot, sending the white ball bouncing across the table.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

The ball was about to go off the table, so on instinct, Kyle grabbed it out of mid-air. He tried not to grin, but was only marginally successful. "Where's the pot of gold?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

If the look Marcus turned on the rainbow had been words, they would not have been repeatable in even the rudest of company. The look he flicked towards Kyle was mostly resigned, with a touch of disgust and the tiniest hint of amusement. "We end up with leprechauns, I'm blaming you," he warned, waving at Kyle to take his shot.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle lined up his shot, managing not to laugh or even smile too much. "Leprechauns will be another day. You wait." He had some room, so he managed to sink one ball, then another, getting better as his confidence grew. Eventually he made a bad shot, underestimating how much power he needed and it was Marcus' turn again.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus stepped up and took his shot, sinking a ball. He took his time setting up for the next one, while his cloud sprouted little cloudlets that scudded around the table, appearing to study the balls. "Get good, and you can make money."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"How do you convince people to play you if they know you're good?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

He turned his head to look at Kyle, almost smiling. "Don't let them know you're good until the stake's high enough." One of the tiny cloudlets floated in front of his face, blocking his view just as he took his shot, and the ball swung wide of the pocket.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle moved to line up his next shot. "So...pretend to play bad for a while?"

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. But not too bad. Make 'em think you're dumb, so they want to take you. Bet and lose, win a little, lose again, they bet high, then you win." He reversed his cue, moving fast, and smacked the base against his palm. "Things go bad, your cue makes a good weapon."

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"If things go bad, you've stayed around too long," he pointed out and sunk the ball. He lined up his next one, but missed.

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point, stepped forward once more, and cleanly and neatly cleared the table of the rest of the solids, sinking one ball after another with apparent ease. The sun came out from behind his cloud, bathing the tables, Marcus, and Kyle in a warm, golden light.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

"Using lights to throw me off is cheating."

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus glared at the cloud, which promptly sucked up the sunshine, shrunk back down to small, and turned black. "I'm done." He hung up his cue and headed towards the door. Before he left, he paused, turned back. "Keep practicing," he told Kyle, and then he was gone.

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

Kyle watched, confused for a second. "But we didn't even finish the game!" he called after him. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Kyle put the cue back. One of the guys who'd been watching nodded towards the table as if asking a question. Kyle shrugged. "It's all yours." He shook his head and headed for the door.