Scout always had the feeling that he was looking out over his kingdom of loyal servants as he leaned over the table, eying all the gathered men. It was what he had come to call the usual crowd who had shown up in order to spend their money away until they were either rich enough for him to pick up any interest or poor enough to start arguing over trivial things with one another.
From the right to the left it was as if they had assigned seats. Closest to him were the Demoman, half drunk as one would expect from the loud Scotsman. Despite the obvious intoxication of the man almost every night, he played his hand better than most other costumers could only dream of.
Next to him was the soldier, eyes fixated onto the green fabric of the table. He was not the talking type, except when the Demo had managed to squeeze some drinks into him. The scout sniggered as he recalled that the last time it had ended in the glorious sight of the soldier half by half reciting what sounded like some old book while standing with one foot in the fountain in the entrance.
Next in line came the Engineer and by him the Pyro. The Texan was an average player, one of those that would drive the other gamblers insane. The short man had a bad habit of being a wonderfully good loser and it seemed to drive all the other players up a tree. The firebug was a straw of his own. Scout grinned as he could not recall how many times he had to inform the Pyro that one could not play a Royal flush when the game was Black Jack.
Almost forged together were the Sniper and the Spy. It seemed like the Spy had been the unlucky one to get the seat by the Pyro this evening and it was clear that the French man did not like the fact that the firebug took up more space than should actually be allowed for someone his size. One thing was for clear and that was that the Scout kept his eyes on the Australian and the all to smooth mouthed French man. They had a little nasty habit of helping one another with cards and signs and he himself did not like when there was people taking advantage at his table, unless it benefited him of course.
And lastly there was Heavy and Medic. Out of all the gamblers they, together with the engineer, were the easiest to have. They were mostly sober (and if they were intoxicated they were masters at hiding it) and would not start fights out of nowhere for trivial things when they went on losing streaks. Their close forging with one another had made the Scout suspect that perhaps they had some partnership just like the Spy and Sniper but one look from the doctor had been enough for him to walk away from that investigation.
"Well gents" he then said, smirking as he finished his little viewing of them "the game tonight is Black Jack."
At the corner of his eyes he could see the Pyro raise his hand and before he himself was able to say anything the Spy turned his head:
"No mon ami, no royal flushes"
An amused laughter went over the table. They were in a great mood. Which meant they were going to gamble long into the night. And the Scout certainly did not mind.