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Feb. 8th, 2011 03:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gala_applesTitle: Magic Moments
Pairing: Mikey/Pete, Mikey/Alicia, Gerard/Lyn-Z
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2925
Summary: Ever since they were teenagers Mikey and Gerard have been playing Magic The Gathering. It's always important to share what you enjoy with loved ones, though, right?
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: This is the most canon story I've ever written. All cards are matched to timeframes of the story. I have no idea if this is readable if you don't know the game, but I've included links to everything mentioned by name to make things easier. I've been playing Magic maybe six years, and seeing Gerard's black and white picture made me squee, but I squashed it to retain sanity. And then Lyn-Z twittered about Jimmy and Gerard playing and I was screwed.
Okay, so Mikey knows that he’s not the cleanest of people either. But when shit is important he organises it. His mixtapes are sorted by theme, his books by author. And his fucking cards are in recipe card boxes. The boxes he picks up are slightly wider than the 2.5 inch width, slightly higher than the 3.5 height. He’s got one box for each colour, and one for mana and artifacts. Pretty soon he’ll probably have to get a second black box, Alliances is coming out in June and Mikey tries to collect all the black commons and uncommons.
Technically the room is all his now, with Gerard being busy at university. But there’s stuff that Gerard couldn’t take with him that’s still his, and Mikey doesn’t touch it. Gerard’s cards are one of those things, apparently no one at school is smart enough to enjoy playing. Normally he wouldn’t open the box, he’s only gotta wait a few weeks before Gerard is home for the summer and he can ask to look through it all. But that’s sort of the thing. Mikey wants to have new decks built and waiting for their chance to kick Gerard’s ass. He’s got this idea for a discard deck. He’s not sure that it’ll work, but if it does he’ll need more Hymn To Tourach’s. He’s got four, but they’re already in another deck. Mikey knows the ones Gerard has aren’t in a deck, Gerard doesn’t play black very often.
The problem comes in that Gerard doesn’t keep shit-all organised. Ever. Mikey has to stand on a bunch of shit at the bottom of his closet to reach Gerard’s Magic box on the shelf above the hanging clothes, but nothing crunches, so it’s okay. He opens the box and almost shudders. It’s a shoe box with a few thousand cards tossed in. They’re not sorted by colour and creature/instant/sorcery/enchant. Shit, they’re not even all in one direction. It’s like Gerard stood up and dropped the cards and watched them plummet into the box. Then closed the lid and shook the box as vigorously as he could.
Mikey rolls his eyes and takes Gerard’s box to his bed with him, kicking the blankets to the floor for more room. When Gerard calls the house tonight Mikey will tell him how much he owes him for this.
For the most part, Pete is willing to play along with people. That doesn’t mean he trusts anyone, he’s had that feeling ripped to shreds too many times for it to be a natural thing for him anymore. But you don’t need to trust someone to participate in the things they suggest. In general he has fun joining people in the stupid crap they think up.
Every person has to have their line though. Pete looks at the items in his hands and thinks he might have found his. He’s holding seven blue cards sitting in black plastic sheaths, and there’s a pile of sixty more sitting on the folding table in front of him. Mikey’s sitting beside him, a similar pile and handful, though his cards are black and red.
“No, seriously, why am I doing this?” Because really, weird monsters on cards? This is the best thing he can find to do at four in the afternoon while on tour?
Mikey appears to deliberately misunderstand. Pete appreciates the technique, he’s used it countless times with Patrick and Andy. “Because cancelling, and preventing people from using their cards, and stopping their turn is hilarious. It pisses people off. Playing blue Magic means you’re only doing it right if people hate you.”
Okay, so that sounds a bit entertaining. Yeah Joe’s somewhere in the distance with a water gun, but there’s only so much you can run in the heat before you pass the fuck out. He'll give it a try, and maybe Mikey will pay him back later. Mikey wanders into the bus to get Gerard and whomever else he’s conscripted for their doubles game.
Twenty minutes later Pete’s turning two blue mana sideways. “Echoing Truth. It says ‘return target nonland permanent and all other permanents with the same name as that permanent to their owners' hands’. Uh, I pick Symbiotic Wurm.”
“Motherfucking fuckstick,” Gerard swears as he gathers his four creatures and puts them into his hand. “Do you even have fucking creatures? Or is it just forty fucking return to hand cards? Go die in a fire, Wentz.”
Pete just grins. Symbiotic Wurm is eight mana, it’s gonna take Gerard four turns to get creatures back into play. This game kicks ass.
Frank doesn’t actually like card games and role playing games all that much. It’s not like he thinks Mikey and Gerard are sad pathetic specimens for loving it, it’s just not his bag. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to sit down and watch them. It’s like watching someone play a video game; you can enjoy it because they’re enjoying it. Or often when it comes to the Ways playing Magic, you can enjoy them cursing loudly at each other. Frank can always tell when Mikey’s playing this card from the latest set, Champions of something. It’s called Cranial Extraction and it makes Gerard want to punch him in the face. It’s sort of hilarious.
Even better than that is the way Bob somehow fears the game. Frank doesn’t get it, but last week Bob literally hid behind a couch for twenty minutes so Gerard wouldn’t spot him. He knew outing him would result in the worst indian burn in the world so Frank didn’t say anything, but he’s still surprised Gee didn’t guess something was up from the non-stop giggling. Every time he twisted his head back to look at Bob the man would flip him off.
So maybe he’s a bit evil. He’s bored, and they’re not gonna be at the venue for another seven hours. Bob and Ray are sleeping in their bunks, and Frank takes the opportunity to fish a deck box out of Mikey’s suitcase. He wanders towards the front where Mikey’s playing a video game and Gerard’s reading something. He chucks the square and his aim is perfect; it hits Gerard’s book and makes him jump half a mile.
“So, I was thinking, group game? Haven’t played in awhile, not saying I wanna start doing tournaments, but we’ve got seven hours and my Ipod is dead.”
Mikey looks over briefly before returning to the game, pressing the right combo in just enough time to not get his head blown off. “Could play. We’d have to teach Bob though.”
Five minutes later Gerard’s explaining that sorcery cards are one time use cards at the start of your turn, and enchantments stay on the field, unless it’s an target creature enchantment, and Frank’s never seen so much hate radiating from someone rubbing sleep out of his eyes. It’s all he can do to not topple off the bunk across the aisle from laughing too hard.
“You’re on something. It’s the only explanation for how utterly wrong you are.”
Lyn-Z is still working on how to go about dating Gerard while making room for Mikey. It’s pretty clear that they are attached at the hip, possibly thread or staples were involved. She’s absolutely certain that the easiest way to fuck up everything is to make Mikey hate her. The Ways are definitely the ‘date me, date the ones I care about’ type, and Lyn-Z guesses she should consider herself lucky that the other ones Gerard loves are cool. Although if they sucked it would shine light on the shittier parts of Gerard’s character and maybe she wouldn’t be so eager to make sure everything works.
Whatever. The point is she might be a bit slow on the uptake, might not know everything about Gerard yet, but she knows that drugs and alcohol jokes aren’t cool. If it was anyone other than Mikey he’d be getting upset, she’s pretty sure. But instead it’s his brother, and instead he replies with “your head can come out of your ass any time now, you know.”
She really doesn’t want to get involved in this, so when Gerard notices her and waves her over she hesitates a second before going. “Uh, yeah?”
“Okay, so Gerard mistakenly thinks Tenth edition Terror looks better than Alpha. Alpha’s like way more bad-ass and creepy, right?”
“See, that’s what Mikey doesn’t get. I’ll agree that Alpha Terror looks creepier, but Tenth Terror shows the continuum. It’s man eating man eating man. It’s boundary pushing, for a game like this.”
“Dude, seriously, it’s called Terror. Creepy is the whole frickin’ point.”
“Okay, so I have no idea what you’re arguing about, and I’m obviously not needed for this. Please go about your day.” She read the situation wrong, and that’s fine, but in general arguments aren’t things she wants to get involved in regardless.
Gerard fingerwaggles at her as she walks away. On the way to her bus she comes across Frank. He’s kinda like Jimmy, she knows how to deal with him better than she does the Ray type. “So, your Ways are fighting about something called Alpha Terror, as a heads up?”
“Yeah. Fuckin’ Tenth edition came out like a week ago, they were only able to pick up some booster packs yesterday. Terror got reprinted with different art, so did a bunch of other cards. It’s been a fuckin’ nightmare on the bus. At least they agree that Mirrodin’s Terror sucks.”
Lyn-Z blinks. “Yeah, I still have no idea what they’re fighting about.”
Frank grins. “Don’t worry. Gee likes the shit out of you. Loves, maybe, I can’t divulge that shit, band honour. But he’ll teach you. Everyone he cares about must learn.”
Sometimes in marriage you have to bullshit caring about the things your husband cares about. Other times you get lucky and their stupid crap actually turns out really cool if you give it a chance. Alicia will probably never care about making a weepless lemon meringue pie, and she sincerely hopes that soon Mikey will stop trying. She likes their house, she doesn’t want their kitchen demolished by a exploding oven.
On the other hand, Magic is sort of awesome. She likes it well enough that she’s started building her own decks using Mikey’s cards, though she hasn’t quite jumped the fence into buying her own cards. Mikey’s got almost all of them, he and Gee dove into it at Alpha and never stopped buying expansion packs, so there’s not really a need to start her own collection.
Lyn-Z and Gerard are over. Mikey’s trying to make dinner, which means that Gerard is supervising him so they don’t all die. Alicia’s gotten pretty used to eating charcoaled food on Mikey’s nights, apparently Gerard is more picky. His nagging and Mikey’s repetitive fuck offs provides a musical background to the game that she and Lyn-Z are playing.
To put it mildly, Alicia is kicking her ass. Well, technically it’s more of a stalemate. But it makes her happier to think of it as an ass-kicking, so that’s what she’s going to do. She’s got a massive horde of goblins on her field, assorted cards with four Goblin Assault providing her four one/one goblins each upkeep. They have to attack each turn, and they have haste, both which would be fun, except for Lyn-Z Akroma’s Memorial giving her protection from red, so she can’t actually do any damage with the thirty something goblins she’s amassed.
Lyn-Z’s rocking a sliver deck, which in any other case would have already killed Alicia dead. But Alicia’s smart, she’s noticed she’s got a higher chance of beating Mikey when she has a duo-colour deck. So along with the red she’s got white, which means Soul Warden. Which means sixteen life per turn.
The piece de resistance is when she slaps a Celestial Mantle on one of her Soul Wardens. Alicia holds it out so Lyn-Z can read the mechanics, and snickers when she groans. “Fuck I hate this fuckin’ game. Fuck. Unless-” her volume raises to reach the boys in the kitchen. “Gee, does this deck have any destroy enchantments?”
His voice bellows back “I can’t tell you, if Mikey’s led her astray with tales of Cranial Extraction she’ll be able to take them away!”
Their marriage-telepathy is pretty impressive. She doesn’t say anything, just scowls, and he doesn’t have a follow up, but a minute later she’s still staring at her cards wrapped in Akroma plastics and he wanders in and whispers in her ear. Judging by her litany of fucks, she probably doesn’t have anything that’ll stop Alicia from getting eighty two life next turn.
It’s not often that Gerard has to go to a collectibles shop to pick up more cards. He’s got at least four of almost every card. Some that feature more prominently in his decks like Giant Growth he’s got a dozen or more of. You amass a lot of shoe boxes in fifteen years of three expansion packs a year.
When he does drop in, it’s mostly to get more sleeves or dice. Sleeves split down the seams given time, and dice are impossibly easy to lose on tour. It’s like socks, only worse. If you’re down to one pair socks you can just wear them for a week, but if you’ve only got one D20 and you have a life gain deck, or a tokens deck your only option is to start writing your gains and losses each turn.
Sometimes though, he buys something on impulse. A mat for his field, even though it’ll get grimy in days, and lost by the end of tour. Or a constructed deck, because while it’s sort of lame to replay other people’s games he’s just curious about how it works.
So when Mikey comes onto the bus and Gerard grins and waves a wrapper from a set of sleeves and says “just made a new deck, you up for getting your ass beaten?” he feels confident that Mikey has no idea what he’s in for.
“Getting Vein Drinker sleeves isn’t making a new deck, Gee.” Gerard rolls his eyes at his brother. Obviously. Even if the Vein Drinker sleeves look completely awesome.
Gerard knows when Mikey starts to put down all five colours of mana that he’s probably playing his Shrine deck. Which he can deal with, as long as he doesn’t get them in the right proportions, and Gerard doesn’t get mana-fucked. Hopefully his new card will be drawn in enough time to nullify that concern.
“Okay, exchanging Roar of the Wurm for Panglacial Wurm isn’t making a new deck either. You need to change like at least three cards before it’s a new deck.” Gerard lets Mikey bitch. He’ll see.
When he finally draws and Gerard can put it on the wrinkled sheet of his bunk he can’t help but smirk. He’s probably not going to win this game, but it doesn’t matter, not when Mikey’s jaw drops before he snaps it shut.
“You’re, like, the biggest fucking tool in the world, Gee.”
Gerard snickers and lightly kicks Mikey in the stomach with his splayed out leg, careful to not jostle the cards on the field. “I’m a rockstar, motherfucker, I can buy what I want.”
“Yeah, but you’re still a tool. How much was that? Like a thousand bucks?”
Actually, the Black Lotus he got was a little over two thousand. “Rock. Star. Better this than a ridiculously expensive car.”
“You have a ridiculously expensive car.”
Gerard shrugs. “I’ll attack, nine/five with trample.”
“I’ll take the damage.” Mikey searches his dice for the eleven, and Gerard turns his card to the side. Maybe there's hope yet.
Pairing: Mikey/Pete, Mikey/Alicia, Gerard/Lyn-Z
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2925
Summary: Ever since they were teenagers Mikey and Gerard have been playing Magic The Gathering. It's always important to share what you enjoy with loved ones, though, right?
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: This is the most canon story I've ever written. All cards are matched to timeframes of the story. I have no idea if this is readable if you don't know the game, but I've included links to everything mentioned by name to make things easier. I've been playing Magic maybe six years, and seeing Gerard's black and white picture made me squee, but I squashed it to retain sanity. And then Lyn-Z twittered about Jimmy and Gerard playing and I was screwed.
Okay, so Mikey knows that he’s not the cleanest of people either. But when shit is important he organises it. His mixtapes are sorted by theme, his books by author. And his fucking cards are in recipe card boxes. The boxes he picks up are slightly wider than the 2.5 inch width, slightly higher than the 3.5 height. He’s got one box for each colour, and one for mana and artifacts. Pretty soon he’ll probably have to get a second black box, Alliances is coming out in June and Mikey tries to collect all the black commons and uncommons.
Technically the room is all his now, with Gerard being busy at university. But there’s stuff that Gerard couldn’t take with him that’s still his, and Mikey doesn’t touch it. Gerard’s cards are one of those things, apparently no one at school is smart enough to enjoy playing. Normally he wouldn’t open the box, he’s only gotta wait a few weeks before Gerard is home for the summer and he can ask to look through it all. But that’s sort of the thing. Mikey wants to have new decks built and waiting for their chance to kick Gerard’s ass. He’s got this idea for a discard deck. He’s not sure that it’ll work, but if it does he’ll need more Hymn To Tourach’s. He’s got four, but they’re already in another deck. Mikey knows the ones Gerard has aren’t in a deck, Gerard doesn’t play black very often.
The problem comes in that Gerard doesn’t keep shit-all organised. Ever. Mikey has to stand on a bunch of shit at the bottom of his closet to reach Gerard’s Magic box on the shelf above the hanging clothes, but nothing crunches, so it’s okay. He opens the box and almost shudders. It’s a shoe box with a few thousand cards tossed in. They’re not sorted by colour and creature/instant/sorcery/enchant. Shit, they’re not even all in one direction. It’s like Gerard stood up and dropped the cards and watched them plummet into the box. Then closed the lid and shook the box as vigorously as he could.
Mikey rolls his eyes and takes Gerard’s box to his bed with him, kicking the blankets to the floor for more room. When Gerard calls the house tonight Mikey will tell him how much he owes him for this.
For the most part, Pete is willing to play along with people. That doesn’t mean he trusts anyone, he’s had that feeling ripped to shreds too many times for it to be a natural thing for him anymore. But you don’t need to trust someone to participate in the things they suggest. In general he has fun joining people in the stupid crap they think up.
Every person has to have their line though. Pete looks at the items in his hands and thinks he might have found his. He’s holding seven blue cards sitting in black plastic sheaths, and there’s a pile of sixty more sitting on the folding table in front of him. Mikey’s sitting beside him, a similar pile and handful, though his cards are black and red.
“No, seriously, why am I doing this?” Because really, weird monsters on cards? This is the best thing he can find to do at four in the afternoon while on tour?
Mikey appears to deliberately misunderstand. Pete appreciates the technique, he’s used it countless times with Patrick and Andy. “Because cancelling, and preventing people from using their cards, and stopping their turn is hilarious. It pisses people off. Playing blue Magic means you’re only doing it right if people hate you.”
Okay, so that sounds a bit entertaining. Yeah Joe’s somewhere in the distance with a water gun, but there’s only so much you can run in the heat before you pass the fuck out. He'll give it a try, and maybe Mikey will pay him back later. Mikey wanders into the bus to get Gerard and whomever else he’s conscripted for their doubles game.
Twenty minutes later Pete’s turning two blue mana sideways. “Echoing Truth. It says ‘return target nonland permanent and all other permanents with the same name as that permanent to their owners' hands’. Uh, I pick Symbiotic Wurm.”
“Motherfucking fuckstick,” Gerard swears as he gathers his four creatures and puts them into his hand. “Do you even have fucking creatures? Or is it just forty fucking return to hand cards? Go die in a fire, Wentz.”
Pete just grins. Symbiotic Wurm is eight mana, it’s gonna take Gerard four turns to get creatures back into play. This game kicks ass.
Frank doesn’t actually like card games and role playing games all that much. It’s not like he thinks Mikey and Gerard are sad pathetic specimens for loving it, it’s just not his bag. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to sit down and watch them. It’s like watching someone play a video game; you can enjoy it because they’re enjoying it. Or often when it comes to the Ways playing Magic, you can enjoy them cursing loudly at each other. Frank can always tell when Mikey’s playing this card from the latest set, Champions of something. It’s called Cranial Extraction and it makes Gerard want to punch him in the face. It’s sort of hilarious.
Even better than that is the way Bob somehow fears the game. Frank doesn’t get it, but last week Bob literally hid behind a couch for twenty minutes so Gerard wouldn’t spot him. He knew outing him would result in the worst indian burn in the world so Frank didn’t say anything, but he’s still surprised Gee didn’t guess something was up from the non-stop giggling. Every time he twisted his head back to look at Bob the man would flip him off.
So maybe he’s a bit evil. He’s bored, and they’re not gonna be at the venue for another seven hours. Bob and Ray are sleeping in their bunks, and Frank takes the opportunity to fish a deck box out of Mikey’s suitcase. He wanders towards the front where Mikey’s playing a video game and Gerard’s reading something. He chucks the square and his aim is perfect; it hits Gerard’s book and makes him jump half a mile.
“So, I was thinking, group game? Haven’t played in awhile, not saying I wanna start doing tournaments, but we’ve got seven hours and my Ipod is dead.”
Mikey looks over briefly before returning to the game, pressing the right combo in just enough time to not get his head blown off. “Could play. We’d have to teach Bob though.”
Five minutes later Gerard’s explaining that sorcery cards are one time use cards at the start of your turn, and enchantments stay on the field, unless it’s an target creature enchantment, and Frank’s never seen so much hate radiating from someone rubbing sleep out of his eyes. It’s all he can do to not topple off the bunk across the aisle from laughing too hard.
“You’re on something. It’s the only explanation for how utterly wrong you are.”
Lyn-Z is still working on how to go about dating Gerard while making room for Mikey. It’s pretty clear that they are attached at the hip, possibly thread or staples were involved. She’s absolutely certain that the easiest way to fuck up everything is to make Mikey hate her. The Ways are definitely the ‘date me, date the ones I care about’ type, and Lyn-Z guesses she should consider herself lucky that the other ones Gerard loves are cool. Although if they sucked it would shine light on the shittier parts of Gerard’s character and maybe she wouldn’t be so eager to make sure everything works.
Whatever. The point is she might be a bit slow on the uptake, might not know everything about Gerard yet, but she knows that drugs and alcohol jokes aren’t cool. If it was anyone other than Mikey he’d be getting upset, she’s pretty sure. But instead it’s his brother, and instead he replies with “your head can come out of your ass any time now, you know.”
She really doesn’t want to get involved in this, so when Gerard notices her and waves her over she hesitates a second before going. “Uh, yeah?”
“Okay, so Gerard mistakenly thinks Tenth edition Terror looks better than Alpha. Alpha’s like way more bad-ass and creepy, right?”
“See, that’s what Mikey doesn’t get. I’ll agree that Alpha Terror looks creepier, but Tenth Terror shows the continuum. It’s man eating man eating man. It’s boundary pushing, for a game like this.”
“Dude, seriously, it’s called Terror. Creepy is the whole frickin’ point.”
“Okay, so I have no idea what you’re arguing about, and I’m obviously not needed for this. Please go about your day.” She read the situation wrong, and that’s fine, but in general arguments aren’t things she wants to get involved in regardless.
Gerard fingerwaggles at her as she walks away. On the way to her bus she comes across Frank. He’s kinda like Jimmy, she knows how to deal with him better than she does the Ray type. “So, your Ways are fighting about something called Alpha Terror, as a heads up?”
“Yeah. Fuckin’ Tenth edition came out like a week ago, they were only able to pick up some booster packs yesterday. Terror got reprinted with different art, so did a bunch of other cards. It’s been a fuckin’ nightmare on the bus. At least they agree that Mirrodin’s Terror sucks.”
Lyn-Z blinks. “Yeah, I still have no idea what they’re fighting about.”
Frank grins. “Don’t worry. Gee likes the shit out of you. Loves, maybe, I can’t divulge that shit, band honour. But he’ll teach you. Everyone he cares about must learn.”
Sometimes in marriage you have to bullshit caring about the things your husband cares about. Other times you get lucky and their stupid crap actually turns out really cool if you give it a chance. Alicia will probably never care about making a weepless lemon meringue pie, and she sincerely hopes that soon Mikey will stop trying. She likes their house, she doesn’t want their kitchen demolished by a exploding oven.
On the other hand, Magic is sort of awesome. She likes it well enough that she’s started building her own decks using Mikey’s cards, though she hasn’t quite jumped the fence into buying her own cards. Mikey’s got almost all of them, he and Gee dove into it at Alpha and never stopped buying expansion packs, so there’s not really a need to start her own collection.
Lyn-Z and Gerard are over. Mikey’s trying to make dinner, which means that Gerard is supervising him so they don’t all die. Alicia’s gotten pretty used to eating charcoaled food on Mikey’s nights, apparently Gerard is more picky. His nagging and Mikey’s repetitive fuck offs provides a musical background to the game that she and Lyn-Z are playing.
To put it mildly, Alicia is kicking her ass. Well, technically it’s more of a stalemate. But it makes her happier to think of it as an ass-kicking, so that’s what she’s going to do. She’s got a massive horde of goblins on her field, assorted cards with four Goblin Assault providing her four one/one goblins each upkeep. They have to attack each turn, and they have haste, both which would be fun, except for Lyn-Z Akroma’s Memorial giving her protection from red, so she can’t actually do any damage with the thirty something goblins she’s amassed.
Lyn-Z’s rocking a sliver deck, which in any other case would have already killed Alicia dead. But Alicia’s smart, she’s noticed she’s got a higher chance of beating Mikey when she has a duo-colour deck. So along with the red she’s got white, which means Soul Warden. Which means sixteen life per turn.
The piece de resistance is when she slaps a Celestial Mantle on one of her Soul Wardens. Alicia holds it out so Lyn-Z can read the mechanics, and snickers when she groans. “Fuck I hate this fuckin’ game. Fuck. Unless-” her volume raises to reach the boys in the kitchen. “Gee, does this deck have any destroy enchantments?”
His voice bellows back “I can’t tell you, if Mikey’s led her astray with tales of Cranial Extraction she’ll be able to take them away!”
Their marriage-telepathy is pretty impressive. She doesn’t say anything, just scowls, and he doesn’t have a follow up, but a minute later she’s still staring at her cards wrapped in Akroma plastics and he wanders in and whispers in her ear. Judging by her litany of fucks, she probably doesn’t have anything that’ll stop Alicia from getting eighty two life next turn.
It’s not often that Gerard has to go to a collectibles shop to pick up more cards. He’s got at least four of almost every card. Some that feature more prominently in his decks like Giant Growth he’s got a dozen or more of. You amass a lot of shoe boxes in fifteen years of three expansion packs a year.
When he does drop in, it’s mostly to get more sleeves or dice. Sleeves split down the seams given time, and dice are impossibly easy to lose on tour. It’s like socks, only worse. If you’re down to one pair socks you can just wear them for a week, but if you’ve only got one D20 and you have a life gain deck, or a tokens deck your only option is to start writing your gains and losses each turn.
Sometimes though, he buys something on impulse. A mat for his field, even though it’ll get grimy in days, and lost by the end of tour. Or a constructed deck, because while it’s sort of lame to replay other people’s games he’s just curious about how it works.
So when Mikey comes onto the bus and Gerard grins and waves a wrapper from a set of sleeves and says “just made a new deck, you up for getting your ass beaten?” he feels confident that Mikey has no idea what he’s in for.
“Getting Vein Drinker sleeves isn’t making a new deck, Gee.” Gerard rolls his eyes at his brother. Obviously. Even if the Vein Drinker sleeves look completely awesome.
Gerard knows when Mikey starts to put down all five colours of mana that he’s probably playing his Shrine deck. Which he can deal with, as long as he doesn’t get them in the right proportions, and Gerard doesn’t get mana-fucked. Hopefully his new card will be drawn in enough time to nullify that concern.
“Okay, exchanging Roar of the Wurm for Panglacial Wurm isn’t making a new deck either. You need to change like at least three cards before it’s a new deck.” Gerard lets Mikey bitch. He’ll see.
When he finally draws and Gerard can put it on the wrinkled sheet of his bunk he can’t help but smirk. He’s probably not going to win this game, but it doesn’t matter, not when Mikey’s jaw drops before he snaps it shut.
“You’re, like, the biggest fucking tool in the world, Gee.”
Gerard snickers and lightly kicks Mikey in the stomach with his splayed out leg, careful to not jostle the cards on the field. “I’m a rockstar, motherfucker, I can buy what I want.”
“Yeah, but you’re still a tool. How much was that? Like a thousand bucks?”
Actually, the Black Lotus he got was a little over two thousand. “Rock. Star. Better this than a ridiculously expensive car.”
“You have a ridiculously expensive car.”
Gerard shrugs. “I’ll attack, nine/five with trample.”
“I’ll take the damage.” Mikey searches his dice for the eleven, and Gerard turns his card to the side. Maybe there's hope yet.