Discuss strategies for riding trends, which casinos offer the best games, card counting for side bets, and all things baccarat.
Welcome to /CarltonBlues, the home of the Carlton Football Club on reddit.
Last night, I was watching the Rolland Garros semi-finals (Grand Slam tournament - basically 1 of the 4 biggest tennis tournaments every year.)
I love tennis both as a player and spectator, and as I have been rooting for this particular player for many years now, whom yesterday had a real chance of winning and going into the Finals of Rolland Garros for the first time in his career, I thought to myself:
Why not place a small fun bet to make it all the more exciting.
I had never betted on sports ever before this, maybe once with $2 as a joke with some friends around 10 years ago or so.
The player I am supporting starts to lose during the first hour of the match. So I sign up, deposit the minimum $10, and find that the return rate was 4/1 (I.e. $10 gets me $50 if my player wins, $40 profit).
Being a massive fan of the player, I thought on top of my own excitement for the game, 4/1 odds were fantastic.
I am about to place the bet, but I find that the odds had shifted to 3/1 as my player had started earnings some points back.
Then to 10/3, then 3/1 again.
I found myself in a disgusting mindset hoping my player would lose a few points so that I can get in on the 4/1 odds, which I thought were great odds. I had never, ever wished for this player to lose a point before. This shook me quite a bit.
And it happens! I quickly place my bet, and I realise I had just bought the dip on a fucking tennis match.
The match resumes and my player keeps losing. I refuse to believe this will happen as like I mentioned previously, I am a massive fan, believe in him, and want him to succeed.
The match reaches a point where my player is nearly defeated, at which point I go back and look at the odds.
I see now the new revised odds at 7/1, then one more point is lost and I it goes to 8/1!
On the rush of adrenaline from the match and from my desire for my player to win, I deposit another $10 and place another bet at $10, with a profit of $80 if my player wins.
In the moment I realise I just doubled down on a tennis dip, and I have a position of $20 with a potential profit of $120.
A few points later and a lot of adrenaline, and it happens. I am thrilled.
My player makes a comeback, FUCK YEEAH, I scream!
He gets back in the game and for the next hour or so ups his game significantly, just as I had hoped. The match is a complete thriller filled with adrenaline and unbelievable tennis. I am loving it.
I am so happy for him and at the same time, I am thinking about my tennis tendies.
The game reaches a point from near defeat, to perfect equilibrium in score from the two players.
I log back in to the betting platform to look at how the odds are fairing now.
The $10 bet I had made early in the game was now worth $17.40
The $10 bet I had made later in the game was now worth $31.31
I now had the option to cash out nearly at 150% return, get out and enjoy the game and root for my player, or diamond hand this bitch and root for my player still.
I choose the latter as the $20 was insignificant to me, and think to my learnings that I will pass the fuck out before I tap out.
A few exhilarating points ensue, but it turns out my player had become exhausted. The rest of the game progresses and it's clear that he will lose. He cannot keep up the brilliant come back that had taken place thus far.
I go back into the betting platform and noticed that:
The $10 bet I had made early in the game was now worth $0.35
The $10 bet I had made later in the game was now worth $0.14
Not only was my favourite player about to lose, but my contracts would expire worthless.
And lose he did.
It was an incredible match and he won the hearts of many fans that night. He is an unbelievable player with so much promise as he is still very young.
The tennis they played was just fantastic.
---
The whole experience left me thinking to myself that the emotions, the mechanics, the complete and utter unpredictability where identical with options trading.
It was then that it really hit me that the term "investing", or "trading" platforms is the fakest front for what is actually absolute gambling.
I can't help but feel a bit dirty that I took something I am passionate for, something I've kept pure for so many years, a pure love for the sport and put inside emotions and mechanics of greed and opportunism. That's the definition of the ugly side of capitalism and I got the taste of it first hand last night.
I have deleted my betting account and will never engage in sports betting again after this. The rooting and cheering I had for this player in previous matches VS this one felt self-less and pure, whereas last night I found myself rooting on the fact that I'd make money. This left me feeling pretty shitty with myself.
I thought I would share this story with all of you retards, hoping that you will learn something and relate on a level which will benefit you in life.
---
tl;dr
1) Some things are best kept pure and outside the scope of making money.
2) Options are not financial derivatives, they are gambling derivatives.
3) Gambling can exist in every single aspect of life, and it can really consume you and your passions.
4) TIM APPLE 122C 11/20, LET'S FUCKING GO YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKS.
submitted by So this morning I woke up to this response to an ask on the Blogatog blog. And just like that Maro manages to put into words a problem that I didn't even notice I had.
There is a laundry list of problems with the current Secret Lair going on. I don't need to add to them and I'm sure very few of you want to hear them repeated. That being said though a lot of these are compounded because of how all of this stuff was handled so I want to focus on one thing that honestly might be the most relevant because it's something that we know will come up when the Dungeons & Dragons crossover comes out but might fly under the radar as it’s less of a dumpster fire than everything else getting attention. That thing being how IPs are handled even when Hasbro isn't looking to take every last cent you worked hard to earn (as rare as that seems).
Every character in Magic, regardless of card type, has both a mechanical and a story identity. Both of them are extremely important because without the former there's no reason to have cards for them and without the latter there's no reason to care about them. One of my favorite Drive to Work podcasts in recent memory is when Rosewater just goes over each and every planeswalker and describes a little bit of their story and a lot about how R&D represents the magic they use in that story in the cards depicting them (
Link). Sometimes these identities are in step with each other and sometimes they are at odds but together they make up the Magic characters we know and love (or sometimes tolerate). While some characters start as a story idea and become cards and some characters start as card ideas and become stories, eventually the two have to meet. I honestly think the best representation of this is in the Shadows over Innistrad block with its depictions of
Nahiri and
Tamiyo (This has nothing to do with my opinions about the block because I wasn't even playing Magic during that specific time period, I just think these specific cards help prove my point).
Both of these cards introduce a brand new color into the color identity of the planeswalker they represent but they do it for precisely the opposite reasons. Nahiri is red-white here as opposed to mono-white like before because it represents how the actions she's taking during this block are volatile, short-sighted, and driven almost entirely by passion and rage. It is a mechanical reflection of an in-story reality. Tamiyo is the exact opposite though. She was put in the story already because she filled a specific role but she wasn't going to get a card because the set was already at its limit for planeswalkers and there were bigger players to represent. The reason she got through is because design realized there was mechanical space for another planeswalker as long as it had a tri-color identity, and then worked with the story department to see what added colors best fit Tamiyo (
Source). The card was the primary concern and the reason why Tamiyo as we know her today has the potential to be Bant instead of just Simic or plain mono-blue is because it fit the needs of the set. These two examples demonstrate a simple truth about characters in Magic: no one card or even collection of cards will represent the entirety of a character and nor does it even attempt to. A card only represents a character in that specific instance and that is all it is ever trying to do, anymore and it would be hypothesizing about a truth that is uncertain.
This I believe is actually a wonderful boon of Magic. It creates a kind of feedback loop. The mechanical flexibility of a character allows them to appear in more sets, which allows more cards that can depict more aspects of them, which means we are more endeared to them because they are more familiar and more explored, which leads to them being put in more stories, which requires more cards and more mechanically diverse cards to explore each facet of that character. It's a blessing in disguise that allows us to get a more full picture of what a character is like. That planeswalker podcast I mentioned has multiple moments where Rosewater discusses characters that have never explored a color that he believes they definitely are and it just hasn’t been shown because of the limitations of the cards printed for them up until that point. Two examples being the fact that he believes both Tibalt and Ob Nixilis are black-red even though ironically one has only ever had red cards and one has only ever had black cards. For two planeswalkers that are decently popular (whether it be for good or bad reasons), they have literally never explored more than half of the potential color identity.
So how does this relate to the ask above or external IPs in general? Well, it's simple: crossovers are by their nature temporary. They have to be because if they weren't it wouldn't be a crossover, it would be the status quo. That means they do not have the flexibility every other legendary creature or planeswalker is provided. They can't do the Omnath thing of slowly acquiring colors as the plot and the sets demand it. They can't be like Teferi where in the story he is consistently white-blue but has just as many mono-blue cards that explore his long history as a mage. Every card has to be treated as a one-off because there's no expectation of a follow-up. The cards have to be static. Is Glenn a white-blue character? Sure, I don't know, I didn't watch the show because statistically it seems highly improbable that the kind of person who likes a fantasy trading card game where you duel as a wizard would also like a gritty gory live-action zombie show well past its prime. But his card definitely isn't. And in a Magic set it probably wouldn't be. Because he's a legendary creature they would know they can afford making a card that doesn't fully explore him because later down the line they can make another card that truly does his Azorius parts justice. And if they couldn't they'd make a card that is truly Azorius or scrap the idea the character is a white-blue character. They could always just make a new card or even character for that design if they really like it after all.
You can't do that in a crossover. You have to provide a color identity that not only correctly explores the character but also appeases the IP holders. And you can’t make a new character to fit new design space since every character belongs to an IP you don’t own. Color identity is no longer one part mechanical truth, one part snapshot of the character's current existence, but instead just a fun little pop philosophy question. No different than a Hogwarts house, character alignment, or any of the million other "pick a side" ticket drivers pop culture has.
To a certain extent, it's always been that way. But at the very least there was a mechanical backbone to it and it was fluid enough that if you disagreed with that specific reading of a character it wasn't permanent. Heck, at this point Sarkhan Vol has been in literally every color but white and four different color combinations to boot. Even Garruk eventually moved back to mono-green. And because it was fluid the card would have to have a mechanical throughline to justify the change or it wouldn't have been made. I personally do not understand right now why Nissa is Golgari. I won't pretend that I understand it or that I agree with it but I also won't pretend that I think it's a bad decision from a game design standpoint, a color break, a character betrayal or an immutable constant. It honestly makes more sense to me than when she was Simic, both looking at her character as a whole and the current state she was in then and now. But even if I never come to understand it, the card feels Golgari and if it turns up in Modern a couple years down the line after it's rotated out I won't think it's forced because even if I don't understand or remember the context for why Nissa became black-green, the card only represents a facet of her at a specific point in time so I'm not going to think it says anything about any of the dozen or so other Nissa cards that exist and represent other facets of her at other points in time. The card wasn't forced to be mono-green because "it's Nissa, Nissa is mono-green" and it definitely wasn't given purely mono-green mechanics and made Golgari because "this character is black-green right now, this is a card that has to be black-green regardless of what it does."
This is all without even considering the other hand Wizard has to balance. The key reason why new properties are even coming into Magic is to attract people who otherwise do not care about the game enough to buy into it with a product that they will do so for. That's why Adventures in the Forgotten Realms is replacing a Core Set. It will obviously be around the same level of mechanical simplicity and newcomer friendliness. It's to get people who wouldn't jump into Magic at that point to do so. And since gold cards are innately more complex to design than single color cards, and since that complexity directly correlates to more nuance which is important to mapping what complex characters, both in real life and fiction, feel and do, it is likely we are going to get more Glenns. More multicolored cards because of character backgrounds and philosophies, but with mono-color mechanics to create simplicity that allows new players to pick up and play. For the good cards they will mash together one mechanic of each color but for many cards they won't have the space because it will take a bunch of reminder text and we'll be stuck with a blue card that is clearly blue that has white not even because it has a life gain rider but because of a book, movie, or comic you didn't read since it isn't relevant to Magic.
In summary, the concerning thing here is that even when Wizards isn't trying to put less-than-scrupulous principles ahead of its players they're still somewhat failing the game. For crossover IPs color is no longer a reflection of what the character is doing, believing, and experiencing at the moment that they are being represented in by the card, but a summation of all of their experiences, actions, and philosophies. Color is doing a lot more than it was ever expected to do and it's doing it for cards that are going to be simplified to entice newcomers so at a time when color is leaning to be as multicolored as possible to reflect as much as possible, it is going to have mechanics that are likely to be very mono-colored in nature. At the best of times we're going to get keywords shared by the colors represented but often we're probably just going to get cards that don't deserve the colors they have, and don't even use hybrid because that can be confusing and we sure don’t want that. Also, I splurged about how I realized how much I really like that the mechanical space and the thematic space of legendary cards, especially planeswalkers, actually empower and embolden one another and how that's kinda ruined by the broad strokes crossover cards have to paint those they represent with (Probably should have used less planeswalkers now that I think about it but they're the easiest characters to search and categorize on scryfall; if I ever make a follow-up you bet your ass that
Niz-Mizzet Reborn is getting used as an example). Basically, remember how
Urza, Headmaster just kind of slapped WUBRG on it because he's a very old character that could fit in many different color combinations and the mechanics of the card were so complex that they literally couldn't fit on a single card (or really collection of cards)? Well picture that but it's black-border, the card isn't as fun but just generically good, and the complexity isn't even that worth it.
Thank you for reading.
submitted by I strongly suggest you start at the beginning. If you’re lost and looking for more info,
the NFC has provided extra context for background on the fighters. Where we last left off;
“The Hunt Is Over” -
I’ll be the first to say what I did was unprofessional. I broke protocol, climbed down from my commentary booth amid the sounds of boos and jeers from experts, Zunkle trying to reach for me as I ran the length of the imposing pit and towards my friend.
Before I could make it to her body, however, someone stepped out and shot me a glance that froze me in my tracks.
It was Wendy. Her mask stained in red that trickled down her chin and eyes alight with rage. At this distance, in the same pit where many had already been slaughtered, I felt very much like a man who’d stepped into a tiger pit.
“You have a job to do, Mr. Sabotta. I strongly suggest you get your ass back up to that booth, because things are going to get messy.” She stared up at the empty throne room where Alduin usually sat, calling out to the MIA champ. “Alduin! Bring me Abaddon, now!”
I stared at her for a moment before my body willed me back up to the side of the pit and Zunk graciously yanked me up by the collar, concern wracking his tired face.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I? Look, there’s time to figure out what happened with Nelle, but we have a job to do. Once this is over, we can discuss next options, kay? Keep it together, Sal.” Before I could even reply, a manic laughter rippled from the throne room and Alduin’s voice boomed out;
“Since she’s not yet passed her semifinal match, let’s give her the next challenger!”
The elevator roared to life as the sound of dozens of footsteps, scratches and incoherent babbling grew in intensity as the elevator reached its destination and came to a screeching halt. As the doors opened and the multitude of eyes, teeth and claws tore at the doors to get out quicker, the lights were switched off and Alduin’s voice tore through the stunned silence.
“BEGIN!”
NFC WILDCARD SEMIFINAL MATCH: “WENDIGO” WENDY HATHALE VS THE TEIHIIHAN With the lights out and the sole lights coming from my recording equipment and a sea of at least 12 pairs of hungry, ravenous eyes darting around the place, I was unsure I’d be able to accurately provide commentary. After all, seeing and providing context is my job. Still, I persevered.
“Fight fans, I apologise for my lack of professionalism a few moments ago. Being unbiased is a part of the job, but when it’s a dear friend, you struggle to quantify the line between professional and personal. I hope you’ll forgive me and you’ll be thankful to know Zunkle is back to keep me in check. Zunk, we’ve got ourselves our very last semifinal match of the Wildcard Tourney with a power outage! What happens next?”
Zunk stared down at the darkness below before his eyes fell upon the iPod still connected, spying Wendy’s playlist and letting a small grin slip across his face for a moment as he
saw the song playing.
“I think what happens next is we see just how far righteous anger can take someone, Sal.”
Sure enough, as soon as he hit play and we directed our attention down to the pit, we could see flashes of brilliant light as these small creatures darted about the place, each looking for an opening in Wendy’s guard to strike. Their bodies were small, nimble, and the ribs exposed as dark brown skin stretched across them like thin paper. Flecks of drool foamed around their mouths and the eyes, bulbous with a sickly yellow, somehow widening when they spied their chance to dive for Wendy.
The realisation hit me and I felt a mixture of horror and disgust wash over me. Looking at the Compendium for guidance only confirmed my suspicions.
Some of these were children.
The Teihiihan were a mixture of warriors that’d fallen in battle, and the others were inexplicably still kids. But the Cheyenne and Arapaho cultures had another title for their dreaded legends, named after the hunger they embodied in their emaciated frames; The Little Cannibals.
Wendy, to her credit, kept her gaze firmly upon the empty throne room and even in the flashes of light we were getting from god knows where, she did not move until they lunged.
Then, she struck.
In a scene as beautiful as it was horrifying, she leaned back while maintaining her stance, allowed the first of these creatures to lunge forward and swiped at its underbelly, spilling the insides across her torso as it flailed on the floor, two of its cohorts rushing over to feed upon it.
The next was no more fortunate than the last, going for her legs as she nodded her head to the beat and brought her leg up at the right time, stamping down on the skull in tandem with the beat until the crunching gave way to a sickening squelch. She did not cease even then, goading the remainder to come forward.
So it went, two would rush forward and both would be caught in midair, hands flailing deftly and screeching as a flash of brilliance highlighted the others tentatively stepping forward as Wendy’s hands grew, claws stuck out and pierced the sides of their skulls, squeezing on the head until a popping sound rang out. Casting them aside, she practically danced as she threw the two corpses to a group on her left, directing her attention to the right as she did so. Ducking down, she darted forward and span her arms around, slicing at anything within her range.
When she was clear to the other side, 6 more gripped their necks, stomachs and eyes as they fall into a heap.
The two that were feeding now directing their blood stained faces towards her as they leapt into the air, mouths open to chew away at her flesh. She responded by simply sticking a fist out and allowing one to chew on her; the latter being swiped mid-air, taking the head clean off. She held this final one up as an example to the crowd, her expression unchanged even when bathed in this light.
“Do you like hurting other people?” She asked, seemingly to nobody as the main spotlight began to flicker to life, intermixing with the deep purple. She tensed her arm, and it grew, the small creature desperately trying to get away, scratching at her forearm in vain with the teeth no longer clamping onto the free skin. In a flash, she ripped the tongue and organs from its mouth, throwing them into the air as she held the remains of the skin and bones, using them as a bat to smash the viscera towards the throne room. Towards Alduin.
There was a splatter, droplets of blood falling down from on high as the crowd cheered the absolute carnage Wendy had left in her wake. She pulled down her mask, and it became obvious where the blood from before the match had come from;
She’d been so fraught with rage that she’d bitten clean through her bottom lip, the blood soaking her chin and the teeth clenched and caked in a dark crimson.
“I do. I will rip and tear everything you put in front of me." She cracked her neck with malice as the song began to fade.
“Give. Me. Abaddon. NOW.”
-
As the clean-up crew worked around an indignant Wendy, I began my end-match spiel. But something felt off, both in how I felt and the surrounding atmosphere. It was the same as that perpetual moment of losing your balance and falling, but stretched out to impossible lengths. A sense of dread washed over me, seeping into my bones and gripping me with the same fear I felt back in the cafeteria.
“This is how it always goes, you know. There’s always a struggle, there’s always a goal, and there is always…”
Hand’s grip on my throat and squeeze, my chest burning and arms refusing to fight back, fingers tensed and toes curled in protest, but I could not break away. I could feel my eyes bulging as the world started to fade.
“A great loss.”
Flashes of moments I’d never experienced once again flooding my mind; a thick underbrush with a younger Nelle, a bar with hooded figures, a manor house with a monstrous skeletal hulking mass out the window, a flight over the seas of the dead with innumerable figures rushing through the seats to reach for me, a hotel with floor after floor of incomprehensible terror… and then, an isolation room.
Looking around, it was pure white, a basic bed and toilet with nothing else to focus on. A straight-jacket wrapped around my body and as I turned, I saw someone peering through the slit in the door at me. Two pairs of eyes, to be exact. One upside down, a thick mono brow stretching across their forehead and curling into a shape on their forehead, eyes wide and bloodshot, their hands and feet tapping at the frame of the door impatiently. The pair that were right side up were half open, milky white and gazing around the room.
“You have repeated this tale so many times and it ends the same. We have tried guiding you, whispering in your ear and pointing you in the right direction. But it seems a more… direct approach is necessary. We see many forks in the road and paths to take. We can only point you to the right one.” The voice below called out after repeated tapping from the one above. “She… WE feel that you will not understand without our direct invention. Our goal is to end the cycle, to put a stop to the violence. At any costs.”
My head swirls, I feel the need to wrench my arms free, but I’m unable to do so. I simply stare ahead and ask what comes to mind without thinking.
“Why can’t that one tell me? What does this mean? How the fuck did you put me here when I was JUST in the pit?” I was growing frustrated, the fear ever-present, but my fight or flight instinct kicking in. She sighs and the tapping resumes as furtive eyes above burn with anger.
“She cannot speak. Clodagh sees what I don’t, but hears what I, Moirah, cannot. We are two of three sisters that are tasked with ensuring you go on the right path, as all things should. SO many have died because of your conflict, and we cannot abide it. You are a part of something that has existed in a balance for aeons, and it is up to us to end the cycle. We brought you here to help you remember, to help you act. As for the pit…” She clicked her fingers and one of my arm restraints grew loose. As I moved it, she beckoned me closer, and the air trembled around the door as I took each step, offering out a hand through the slit that, despite my better instincts, I walked towards it and took it. The second I got into range, she gripped me tightly. Her brown skin starting to tinge an ugly puce, the veins coming to the surface and pumping rhythmically with the beating on the door as Clodagh began smashing her skull against the metal frame. I could hear something muffled in the distance,
the beat of a drum. Flashes of images flooded my mind as I saw the visages of my friends laying dead at my feet; Rex, Landry, Zunkle, Nelle… Nora. All laying at the feet of Alduin and Abaddon, both laughing in utter madness, hands soaked in the blood and guts of every competitor. Everyone I loved. Overhead hung a black sun, the dazzling glow casting both of these beasts in an unholy glow.
“You never left. We just needed you to reach out and set the next reaction to an action, through a little divine intervention. Music is something that transcends time, space and reality, it holds within it so many emotions and ties that cannot be broken. Some embolden the weak and others decimate the strong. We’re most curious to see what this one will do…”
The visage of these two women in front of me flickers in and out, like a television losing signal. Before I realise anything was wrong, I’m sat back in the booth and my hand is outstretched onto the next song and Zunkle is staring at me quizzically, ready to switch the volume dial back to an even number.
Sure enough, the screaming of locusts joins the music as a weathered Abaddon glides from the dug-out, still holding at his skull where the jagged wound sits, decidedly less of his locust swarm with him as exposed bone and scratch marks are visible from his previous battle.
Alduin walked back to the throne room, cape wrapped around her and arms folded as she grinned.
“You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention, Wendigo Wendy. Its looks like we’ve already reached the end of The Wildcard Tournament! Only two remain and the winner will meet Eustace De Kolta & Nora Zayne in the Openweight Grand Prix Finals. I’m excited to see who has the balls to do what needs to be done, who among ya is ready?!” She screams into the mic, the crowd cheering. Some for Abaddon, a lot for Wendy, who had by this point hunched down onto all-fours and kept her eyes locked on a stoic Abaddon.
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I just don’t want to lose another friend to a fucking animal like this, to a tournament that pits unwitting contestants against creatures in a game they KNOW they’ll lose. I’ll take him out before he can go any further. And then… I’m coming for you, bitch.”
Alduin chuckled and threw her hand in the air to signal the start of the bout.
“BEGIN!”
NFC WILDCARD FINALS: “WENDIGO” WENDY HATHALE VS NFC ABYSS CHAMPION ABADDON THE DESTROYER Perhaps it was the fear of losing respect from the crowd. Maybe it was a desire to finish things quickly and heal up, but Abaddon did not hesitate to rush forward. Throwing his locusts in front of him like a thick cloud, this was the first time his entire frame was visible for all to see. A thick metallic plate covered his lower half, inscriptions littering the sides and a black belt holding it together, two small holsters for his swords on either side. He was nimble, so much so that within just a few seconds he was behind Wendy and striking her with a blow to the back of the skull, the force sending her flying across the pit. The locusts were waiting for her body to drop, picking her back up and holding her in place as Abaddon ran in for another strike.
“A stunning start to what we could argue is both the finals AND a grudge match! Wendigo Wendy showcasing how much this fight means to her personally as well as the desire to take on our queen of the NFC. But as Abaddon has shown us in his last fight, he is the Abyss Champion for a reason. What do you think will happen next, Zunk?”
Zunkle leaned back in his chair and pulled some food out of his bag, a piping hot Stromboli that he took a hearty bite out of. I stared for a moment at his lackadaisical approach, waiting for him to finish.
“I think we’ve only just begun to see the violent delights this tourney has. And seeing all this competition, this bloodshed… it’s making me hungry. Not just for food, but for my own shot in that pit. I’ll tell you one thing though; Abaddon is making a grave mistake rushing forward.”
Looking down, Abaddon connected once again with Wendy. This time a kick to the side of the neck that drove her into the side of the pit with a sickening thud.
“You are mortal here, Wendy. You cannot rely on those gifts from your own home. For here, you are nothing more than another nightmare in my division to be conquered. I have my own desires for this tournament that cannot be stopped or interfered with and rest assured; I will take as many of yours or HIS friends as I need to in order to get there.” He shot a glance at me and for that moment, my hairs stood on end. Even just having him gaze at me sent me into a panic.
“Well, you’re unfortunately going to have a tough night, Abaddon.” Wendy coughed, pushing herself up and cracking her neck, bruises and cuts all over her body. “Because now I know what you are, where you come from and my role in all this, I can’t let you progress any further.”
Abaddon cocked his head to the side, and the locusts returned, forming around his arms as he began to pull at his swords. Both of them. Where the shimmering black was familiar, the sickly bright white of the alternative blade was a new kind of horrifying; faces etched in permanent suffering rippled across its fine steel and a soft moan lashed out as he swiped it through the air, crossing both blades in front of him.
“You are a bold and arrogant one, child. But I have seen where your path began and I know what you are, where you came from and what you did. You were powerless to stop death then, and you are no different here.”
He began inching forward, careful not to dash into her guard. Wendy stretched back and for the first time in a long time; she smiled.
“Y’know, back where I’m from, in the Hotel... We have this guy Sigurd Jónsson, but we call him “Ros”, he’s a total music head. Arrogant, rash and full of the worst jokes you’ll ever hear. He saved me from a cycle of violence in my own community, bringing me into his without even realising it. He didn’t make it out of there, at least... not in the way we wanted him to. But that's because he made a choice to stand and protect the things he knew were important, even if his dumb brave ass didn’t realise it at the time.” She flexed her fingers, and the joints grew with the nails, looking down at them with curiosity and melancholy.
Abaddon inched closer. He was almost in range.
“I guess we're pretty similar, in the end. That's why he's a brother to me. But, there’s one big difference between him and I.” Abaddon lunged and slashed with the swords. A horrid groan left the white sword as it hit nothing but air. Wendy leapt into the air and landed on Abaddon’s shoulders, hand tensed like a spider ready to bite.
“I’m not bound by that cycle anymore and that means I will do ANYTHING to pull him from it.”
She drove her hand into the wound on Abaddon’s skull, and immediately the atmosphere changed. There were no screams. There was no time. The locusts stood in place, silent and paralysed as Abaddon mirrored them. She stood there for a moment before releasing her hand, covered in a thick tar-like substance and jumped down, throwing her fist into the air to uproarious cheers. Alduin jumped down, clapping slowly and mic in hand.
“Well, I’ll be… the kid’s got skill. I live only for the best competition and you just proved exactly why this is the best fuckin’ tournament out there. You’re in the finals, kid. Good luck…” Alduin’s eye flashed, and she looked past Wendy to the sight of Eustace De Kolta sauntering into the centre of the pit to greet her, Nora standing at the foot of the dugout, one leg raised and arms folded, watching.
“A pleasure to watch, despite your… maladies.” He extended a hand that Wendy reluctantly took before he raised it into the air to louder cheers. “I’ll be taking him for now, wouldn’t want him interfering in our bout, would we?”
In a moment both relieving and horrifying, Eustace clapped his hands and laid the satchel down as his first pet from the opening round crawled out; the devourer. It reached for the still frozen body of Abaddon and as soon as its pale fingers had a solid grip on him, it ripped him from where he stood and dragged him into the satchel, locusts and all.
Alduin, to her credit, laughed heartily.
“And there’s our second finalist, The Nightmare Catcher Eustace De Kolta! Now adding the Abyss Champion to his repertoire, though I don’t think he’ll be able to hold him for long, he still has a near endless supply of horrors in that satchel!” She cast her eyes to the dug-out and as soon as Nora saw her, she walked forward. Perhaps determined not to let Alduin get even a moral high ground on her, let alone a physical one. “And lest we forget our third and last but by no means least competitor in the finals. Someone I’m sure will do great things… Nora Fucking Zayne!”
As the crowd cheered and confetti rained down, the computer screen held up a timer once more to signal the interval. Zunkle got to his feet and with eyes focused on the ground, thanked me profusely, his enthusiasm causing his voice to raise slightly louder than he intended.
“Sorry, sorry. Got a… lot on my mind, y’know? The NFC granted my match with Malphas and… well, I better get ready. But Sal, don’t judge me for what you see down there, okay? I may be Zunkle now, but I’ll always be The Jersey Devil, I hope when you call the fight, you give it everything you've got. Because I sure as hell will.” He patted me on the shoulder before heading off as Alduin finished her announcements.
“3 hours time, we will crown the NFC OpenWeight Grand Prix Winner and the next contender to my title, betting odds and food are open now. See you soon!”
Eustace chuckled as he let Wendy’s hand go and began walking back, a bitterness to his voice.
“It’s a shame we have to do this, if you weren’t what you are, I think we’d be friends. But given your showing here, it’s clear that you’re no different to the rest of the division… to what my family dealt with before.”
“Oh yeah? How d’you figure that, David Blaine?” She snarked, folding her arms and wincing from her wounds. He stopped and held up a hand as he circled around, a concerned look on his face intermixed with an uncontrollable excitement that I could sense even from here. Though I knew I had to rush to the infirmary and more uncertainty gripped me now than it had done when I stepped through those doors, I also knew that the finals were going to be the bloodiest of them all.
“Because after that showing, I sense there’s a changing of the guard. One that would send a dangerous message to the far-reaches of all worlds." He slings his satchel over his back and as I make my way to see my friends, those last words ring in my ears and once again bring forth the mentions of the cycle those strange women whispered into my ears;
"The only thing the NFC fears now… is you.” submitted by NFL Week 5 Odds: Here Are Betting Lines, Spreads For All 15 Games. The NFL rolls on after a tumultuous Week 4 Compare odds and offers from the leading bookies. Get the best tips and insight. Place the smartest bets on Oddschecker. Your One Stop Betting Hub. Get the latest NFL odds, point spreads, money lines and over/unders for popular sportsbooks and view SportsLine's expert analysis of each upcoming game. Innovating Football Betting Tips to Dominate The Online Sports Betting Bookmakers! Oddstake.com team is made by professional tipsters and content providers. Our expert tipsters bring you daily betting tips, soccer predictions and best bookies odds for many football leagues all around the world. Get insight from the top experts in the sports betting biz. NFL, NBA, NHL, MLB, Premier League, we cover every sport you can think of. Visit WagerTalk.com and start winning today.
Best Android App for Betting Tips and Odds comparison - Duration: 0:57. superscommesse 27,954 views. 0:57. Top 10 Soccer Prediction Sites PT 2 - Duration: ... Nifah Games 13,258 views. 0:54. best software for betting software to predict soccer / football games for betting 2020 this is the most accurate software to analyse and predict soccer / football games for betting. What are your odds at winning casino games? It's extremely difficult for players to go home with winnings. All casino games have a house advantage, which mea... Best Betting Software working 100% Betting Prediction Software with over 70 % hit rate. Who is interested in the program,contact us via contact form on our w... Professional sports handicapper Ross Benjamin has 2 NFL free picks on Sunday 12/1 in games between the Titans/Colts and Browns/Steelers. ... Saturday 11/30 College Football Betting Odds and Picks ...
