Quoted By:
<span class="mu-i">PLAK-PLAK, PLAK-PLAK</span>, both derringers were emptied and tossed onto the table in front of you, and without checking to see if you had indeed hit any bullseyes, you hiked up your skirt and pulled two more derringers from your thigh holsters, pointing one out, the other arm bent to brace your aim. <span class="mu-i">PLAK-PLAK,</span> You changed up your shooting arm and your brace, <span class="mu-i">PLAK-PLAK</span>. Not quite done. With a final flourish as you let the derringers fall from your fingers with a clatter onto the table, smoke twirling in the air in front of you, the knife came out of your sleeve. With a final draw of the arm and flick of the wrist as you flung your arm forward, the knife spun out to the closest target.
With a catch of your breath, you squinted to see how much you’d win by…
The knife hit the closest target with a <span class="mu-i">thwack</span>, sticking into the wooden back plate. You’d hit six out of your eight shots, too, including one on the further target. Not bad for such runty guns. You flung a victorious grin back at Van Halm. “You lose,” you sneered, “Seven hits. Even if you aced every shot with that revolver, you can’t win.”
Van Halm put up his palms. “Surely the <span class="mu-i">knife</span> doesn’t count, even if all those derringers counted as a singular weapon. What happens if we tie?”
You shrugged. “You’ll have to tie me, first.”
“Do I get to borrow your knife, then?” Van Halm asked as he strode out to the target and yanked the knife from the head of the target board.
You made a noncommittal tilt of your head. “Just get on with it and lose, already.”
Karel stood at the edge of the range, picked up the wheel gun, and with a twist of his wrist, spun the revolver on a finger before locking his arm out, a determined flintiness in his eyes and a snap of his lip into a concentrated curl, before he squeezed his finger on the trigger.
<span class="mu-i">BANG.</span> The first shot echoed, and you saw a hole appear perfectly in the center of the head of the nearest target. Four more shots in quick succession, each a hit on the bullseye. A moment’s hesitation- then you saw him relax his hand for a second. <span class="mu-i">BANG.</span> The final shot visibly hit the ground.
“Well,” Van Halm laid the gun down and sighed with a smile, “I suppose we won’t have to worry about a tie, then. Be merciful, if you would, will you?”
>Hey. That doesn’t count. You’re not taking a match that was thrown.
>A win’s a win. He would have beefed up the knife throw anyways.
>Let him know you know he lost on purpose. But you appreciated the gesture.
>Other?
