ty adroxis || district 9 cb

He's never been fond of the King of Hearts. Arrogant to the last, bearing a soft smile as he shoves his sword through his skull. The image is almost serene, Ty thinks, as his fingers ghost over the face of the card gone yellow and frayed from age. There should be blood seeping out onto a hungry blade, pooling in between the gaps of his fingers smelling of rotten iron and desperation.

That spilled blood now runs through his veins, lips pressed to his pulse-point as his gaze glides over the strangers sat around a stained table. They're certainly taller than Ty - older too. His eyes had found the weapons they'd haphazardly hidden beneath the waist of worn jeans and he wonders how much blood money they'd poured into his family's vault.

"How lucky," The words rumble in his throat, a low purr as he presents his hand, "I win again."

Outrage sounds around him, chairs screeching across tile floors and heavy steps invading his space. "Don't take me for a fool, boy," Fingers curl around the silk of his collar, cutting off his breath in an instant.

Honestly, it's preferrable to the guy's aroma of sweat and tobacco smoke.

"If you gotta problem," He's choking on the words and choking back a smile, "Take it up with my brother,"

And when he speaks the King's name the world falls silent.

As they should.

Ty stands, ironing out the wrinkles in his clothes and adding the last of his money to the pile.

"Keep the change."

So he's called himself a jester.