shiromadoushi: (Default)
Bakura Ryou [獏良了] ([personal profile] shiromadoushi) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2010-05-04 07:23 pm

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WHO: Bakura and Keith
WHERE: Central Park chess tables
WHEN: Wednesday afternoon
SUMMARY: Bakura is playing chess with the senior citizens in the park. Keith spots, observes, then cuts in. Awkward.
FORMAT: Para to start, whatever after.



Bakura's walk home from work had been something that resembled a comic strip than the normal straight cross through the park. First he had been spotted by one of the regular customers from Ryoko's and stopped for a chat. Then, after nearly gotten beaned upside the head by the ball a group of young children had been tossing around, he had seen the usual group at the chess tables and gotten flagged down to arbitrate Hashimoto and Takahashi's daily heated argument. Which was of course how he was now playing his third game.

So far, a very good day.


[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-05 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Bakura's apology earned only the briefest of nods from Keith. He wasn't particularly concerned with the apology itself, but he was pleased to see that Bakura was still meek around him.

"...Yeah." Keith was at ease, more casual than he normally was on the network, although despite his word choice there was still something distantly formal to his attitude. He looked at the board, then reached out and made his move, putting a pawn two places forward. A King's Pawn opening. Either it was coincidence, or he'd already watched enough to determine that was a good opening move.

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
[OOC: Fine with me, since--ditto.]

That was, assuming Keith played as he normally would against Bakura.

For now, he took a direct approach. He moved another piece out through the gap created by the pawn opening--the second move in a gambit that would lead to checkmate in four moves if not blocked. A straightforward and aggressive line of attack, as if bearing down on a single enemy.

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
There was no expression there save faint concentration. Calmly, Keith moved to sacrifice a pawn to allow himself to move a rook freely.

"How interesting," he said as he pulled his hand away from the piece. "How the stronger pieces keep themselves shielded by the pawns. It's a cage as well as protection."

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
It seemed obvious enough to Keith. The easy aggressive strategy hadn't worked. The answer was sacrifice. Besides, there was something faintly satisfying about watching that defensive wall vanish. It wasn't something he could do in real life.

(He'd have to be careful, not to give anything away like that. He'd conserve the rest of his pawns as best as he could while putting his queen out on the offensive.)

With the now-freed rook, he took the pawn Bakura had used to take his pawn. "An eye for an eye," he murmured. "This game encourages it."

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Keith moved his queen out now, ready to go on the offensive. But he kept her in a safe place as he did so. It was entirely too easy to be self-destructive in this game, to let pieces vanish one by one until it was just, perhaps, the queen and a knight sliding around the board. He liked that, but he couldn't show that he liked it. Not to anyone here.

"And how often do you get such openings?" His glance flicked to the bishop that had taken his rook. "It must depend on who you're playing." His tone was just a little too serious to be conversational, but unlike his playing, it left no openings.

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Keith moved an already-out bishop into place to take the knight, should it not move. It was a trap: moving the knight would put it in the grasp of the opposing queen.

"The goal is to win in any game," he said. "Isn't it?"

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)
The urge to sacrifice his bishop to take the knight was tempting. But it would give too much away at this point. Instead, Keith moved out one of his own knights.

"Your favorite game?" Still no visible reaction to the way the game was going.

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)
It could normally be said that Keith's blank look was all that Bakura needed to see that he had no clue what was being talked about. Except that Keith just about always looked like that. So Bakura had to wait for confirmation until Keith said, "Explain."

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 06:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"Then if you're the 'Game Master,'" Keith guessed, "you hope to lose." It didn't sound like it was to his taste, personally--as the Game Master, he'd play to win. Because-- "I wonder. What holds the country together after the Dark Lord is defeated? Or does the game not consider that?"

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-06 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"Then that's how it is." Keith looked down at their own game board, the chess pieces scattered about it now. "The players leave the world they've used in disarray."

There was that slight, not quite pleasant curve of his mouth that replaced a grin in most people. "At least in chess, the pieces are cleaned up and put away after the game."

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-10 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
"People like games that can be reset," Keith observed. "Where they don't need to face the consequences of their actions." Win or lose, and it was over, he didn't add, because he didn't trust himself not to give something away with those words.

[identity profile] prodigitalson.livejournal.com 2010-05-10 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Fun." The word sounded alien coming from Keith, but that was hardly a surprise. He glanced away dismissively. "It doesn't matter." It did, to him--he did everything he did because of what he believed about humanity, or at least so he told himself--but discussing it further seemed pointless. Or potentially painful--but he wouldn't admit that.