"Two hundred minimum, gents. Place your bets or find another table, this here's for real gamblers!" An eccentric dealer exclaimed. A simple Blackjack table at Harrah's Casino. Simple yet elegant in its design. Their dealers of professional grade, dressed to impress yet impress very little. People come for one reason; money. Half of the unwritten creed of the human race. The other of course being power. And in the world of gambling, few ever experienced both consistently. But than again few were Aaron Shaw; a hitchhiker who had found his way back to his home town of New Orleans. Well, home town in this life at least. Memories of distant lives lived pass through Shaw's mind every so often. Most he writes off as just dreams, others are much too vivid and real in his memories to have not ever happened. And some of those he wished he could forget.<br/><br/>This night however was a time for fun mischief. Something for some reason he knew very well in all of his past lives. Aaron glanced around the table at the current players he joined in on. No one familiar, so that was good. His last time in town before he exiled himself was quite unpleasant and gambling got him into a lot of trouble. Apparently they frown upon the use of card tricks during a serious poker match, yet another one of his masterful skills. Expertly done card tricks, dice, billiards...if you could put money on it, Aaron played and usually won. His recent stint in Chicago got him into a new type of gambling that truly got his blood pumping, as the essence gambling in and of itself is his vice. The underground cage fighting scene in the Windy City was ever lucrative for Aaron, especially with his close quarter combat skills. Its amazing how the concepts of card tricks such as "sleight of hand", "forcing a card", and "false cuts" can be applied martially. After all, winning at combat  benefit greatly from the art of deception.<br/><br/>"Place your bets!" The dealer called out, breaking Aaron from his thoughts and glanced at his cards: two queens and a four of hearts. He busted, but he would never show it. His medium brimmed hat shadowed his handsome scruffy face well. He allowed a small smirk, to give the dealer confidence in his own forced hand. Aaron knew how the dealers worked here, it was where he learned his tricks. The dealer dealt and three out of the four other players folded. "Cards." The dealer stated showing his two jacks and an ace of clubs. The other remaining player showed a ten of clubs and an eight of diamonds. "Eighteen, dealer wins. Maybe next hand son." The dealer stated then glanced at Aaron. "Cards." Aaron's wry smile evaded his lips as he turned his two queens over. Then slowly let down his third card, previously a four of clubs but revealed to the dealer as the ace of spades. "Twenty One, Mon Ami. Dealer's loss." Aaron's thick Cajun accent rung smoothly across the table while he gathered his winnings. The dealer glared and motioned for security. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to empty your pockets on the table, please." The requested while standing slowly, hands placed firmly on the table.<br/><br/>Arron complied, standing slowly adding another confident smirk, hands raised to just above their respective shoulder. "But sir, surely you're not implyin' I am cheat?" Aaron's accent heavy again, it felt good to be back home. Two well dressed and fully capable bouncers approached Aaron calmly from behind. "And surely you don't think me a fool to have not seen 'dat sloppy Ace you pushed on 'dem cards you holdin', sir." The dealer's eyes widened and he looked frantically at the bouncers. They knew how the dealers operated here too, so they wouldn't do anything to him. Aaron knew what was coming next though. "Sir! Kindly remove the contents of your pockets or I will have security escort you out." Aaron pushed the brim of his hat up with an index finger and revealed his sharp light brown eyes, almost topaz in color. Slowly he reached into his brown leather long-coat pockets, revealing nothing upon their exit. Then he reached into his black trousers, with the same result and again with his dark blue buttoned up dress shirt. Then in a mocking fashion he briefly pushed up the sleeves of his coat, than in a quick flash of his hands he fanned out an entire deck of cards, the numbers and faces visible to the dealer except one card. Aaron smoothly removed the card and turned it towards the dealer, revealing it to be the four of hearts. "Was 'dis my card?" In another flash of his wrist and the card sailed across the air and grazed the dealers' face leaving a nasty paper cut.<br/><br/>The bouncers were quick. The one to Aaron's right grabbed his shoulder firmly, causing Aaron to release the entire deck of cards he held in his right hand into the bouncer's face staggering him backwards briefly while Aaron disabled the bouncer on his left with a swift chop to the throat, not with killing force of course but it was enough to immediately drop him out of this confrontation by gasping for breath. It would come soon enough. Aaron turned his attention back to the previously stunned bouncer who had now recovered and was in mid swing of a Haymaker punch. Aarons' time in the cage served him well. His counter was masterful and swift; quickly ducking under the arm while forcing the bouncer's head down under Aarons'. A swift and tight upwards pull instantly slept the poor man. Any harder and Aaron would've heard the neck snap, something completely unnecessary for a couple chaps just doing their job; however, Aaron was never one to just be manhandled. Incapacitation would do for now.<br/><br/>The ordeal over with, Aaron simply bowed a gentleman's bow, and admired his own prowess. 'Not bad for such an average looking guy' he thought to himself then began his way towards the bar. Cocky as ever, there was no reason to not get a drink in before they would try to kick him out again, if they were smart, they'd just leave him be. As before, it was good to be home.