The rather, okay, very, peculiar elf suddenly points at his chest and mouths the unmistakable word, "Me?" complete with the requisite raising of the eyebrows and jutting of the lower lip. The fact that he was offered to join the game several minutes before seems to have no bearing on his current reaction.
He hops down from his stool at the counter, far down, almost to the floor, then stands, licks the palm of one hand and slicks back one side of his head, below the temple. The gecko still perched above glances at the gesture, probably nervously--but it's hard to tell with a gecko--but remains passive. The hair the elf slicked back instantly springs outward again like a stubborn weed.
Walking in his usual unsteady saunter, he strides to the table recently employed for the game. Once arrived, he says in a voice completely unlike his earlier voice, a deep, steady, almost commanding voice, "
So, ye wish t'play a game of colored papers, eh? Aye, 'tis a good game, arrr." He narrows an eye then swings one of the open chairs about and drops down. In still another voice he suggests, "
Deal 'em quick, deal 'em good and deal me in!" and follows that up by daintily rummaging through one of his belt pouches, quickly producing a dried leaf, a bit of eggshell, and finally a copper coin which he raises as high as he can over the center of the table, and releases, allowing it to bounce, then spin, then settle somewhere near the edge.
He sits still, finally; a very still sort of still. A stillness reserved for statues. Even his eyes cease moving, and blinking. The plaintive call of a nightowl wouldn't be out of place right about now.
(OOC: I'll try not to slow things down too much, if I'm absent too long in your estimation, just deal me out until I'm no longer catatonic.)
I draw the...[sblock]
4 of spades! That's good, right? [/sblock]