Chapter Text
_.—._
\_|_|_/
Snowflakes dropping beyond the window,
Blanket over my shoulder.
Warm.
"It's your turn," I said.
Theo drew his card.
"Forest,
Llanowar Elves,
Llanowar Elves,
Llanowar Elves.
Go."
Sometimes, I couldn't get enough of that grin of his.
Sometimes, he couldn't help but play to win.
Sometimes.
——— ——— ———
Llanowar Elves {G}
Creature - Elf Warrior (1/1)
Tap: Add {G} to your mana pool
_.—._
\_|_|_/
"Can you do that?"
"Sure. They cost one green and tap for one."
It wasn't fair, nor fun.
But he was smiling,
And laughing.
"Okay."
Couldn't losing be fun too?
_.—._
\_|_|_/
He asked me to come with him tonight.
"There'll be friends," he said.
Meaning I'll have to share.
"You could make top three," he said.
With as many as eight of us?
Unlikely.
"Meet new people; it'd do you good."
I'd come, no doubt. Fridays should be spent together.
Just... don't ignore me too much?
_.—._
\_|_|_/
A player card.
The guy behind the counter printed a mint one, just for me.
I'm a player now. A real one.
Like the seven boys in the shop.
I barely know how to play.
Theo hadn't had time to explain everything.
Name, code bar, serial number.
In the wallet it went,
Next to the picture of our one-month anniversary.
I'll treasure it as proof of our third.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
Matchups were called.
"Delaney against Nicholas."
A man lifted his hand,
Tattoos running down his arm.
Playmat in front of him, sleeved deck, tons of dices and a few deck boxes.
Even with the elf deck I’d borrowed, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Nothing new.
I sat.
We introduced ourselves.
Small talk.
My cards stuck together when he shuffled them.
His glided atop one another when I did.
Not a word about the state of my cards.
Only encouragements.
I don't yet have a deck to call my own,
Yet, win or lose, I'm getting sleeves.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
Three Llanowar Elves.
Fast start,
I could win.
Elf into elf into elf, just like Theo had done.
"You can't do that," the man said on my first turn.
Creatures can't tap the turn they're played.
It's against the rules.
Summoning sickness, he called it.
"Next turn," he said, by way of apology.
I thought Theo knew the rules.
Always bragging about his wins against his friends.
Pointing out any mistake I made.
On what else were you mistaken, Theo?
_.—._
\_|_|_/
I won! Me,
Without breaking the rules.
Just a little patience, and Kamahl on turn three.
Everything made sense,
Everything was right.
"Best two out of three," he said.
——— ——— ———
Kamahl, Fist of Krosa {4GG}
Legendary Creature — Human Druid (4/3)
G: Target land becomes a 1/1 creature until end of turn. It's still a land.
2GGG: Creatures you control get +3/+3 and gain trample until end of turn.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
My beginner’s luck didn’t last the round.
Instead, I received my baptism by fire.
I never knew games could be this short.
Of the initial spark, only embers remained,
Warm, deep, begging to be rekindled.
Nicholas returned after bringing the results to the storekeeper.
On the clock, only twenty minutes had elapsed to the round.
The memory of that lone victory teased the embers.
"There's still time," I said. "Another game?"
_.—._
\_|_|_/
The tournament's results came out.
Seventh place.
Fourth for Theo, and first for Nicholas.
The prize for the winner was three booster packs: forty-five cards.
Nicholas picked the rare of each.
Not a glance at the rest.
"Anyone wants these?"
It'd be enough to make a deck,
My very own. My very first.
"Um."
"I'll take them," said Theo, already by Nicholas's side.
Cards in hand, he riffled through them.
"Look at this one, Lanie."
By his looks, he couldn't have received a greater gift.
So happy.
I hugged him.
"What does this one do?"
A cheer, a smile, a touch.
He would have bought me cards had I asked.
He could have made the ache go away.
The words never came.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
We huddled close while waiting for the bus.
Fresh snow covered every track, smoothing every angle.
His breath fogged. I shivered despite my scarf.
"Enjoyed your evening?" he asked.
I nodded.
"I heard you laugh all the way across the room."
Cheeks pink from the cold,
Nothing but the cold.
Really.
"There'll be a Grand Prix in a few months," he said.
"Much bigger than tonight.
Hundreds.
Cam and Jerry think we could make it."
My head rested on his shoulder. "Make sure to know all the rules by then."
"What does that mean?"
Mock affront. Tease.
"I'll have you know I'm the best there is."
I kissed him.
"Sure you are."
Hundreds.
How many classrooms would that fill?
How large a gymnasium?
What a sight it'd be.
That night,
I dreamed.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
On Monday,
School again.
Teacher at the front, droning on,
My seat corner-back. Doodling on.
If only the subjects were interesting,
The teachers more involved,
The students more open...
It wasn't fair of me to blame others for my failings.
Theo raised his hand to answer a question.
Front row.
How would it feel to have the eyes of thirty boys and girls upon me every time I spoke?
How did he do it?
The lesson ended.
Opening my locker, a letter fell out.
'Happy three months, Lanie!'
I picked up the chocolate that had fallen with it.
Small enough to be slipped through the slits.
He'd remembered. A few days late, but that didn't matter.
Unless he slipped it on Friday
And I hadn't noticed.
I shouldn't have doubted him.
He deserved something nice,
For bringing some colour in here, despite the grey winter.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
I remember
The first letter.
'Wait for me at the library at five,' it had read.
I knew nothing then.
'Who' and 'why' were the only questions on my mind.
I went, still,
And waited.
The last bell rang at four. I picked a book.
The buses left a quarter later.
I reread the same sentence for the third time.
Who? And why?
A quarter before, I closed the book.
I couldn't read, not with these questions filling every corner of my mind.
I looked out for anyone looking back.
Five o' two.
"We're closing," he said.
A boy
Who kept looking at the doors as he shelved the books.
I pulled out the note.
"Is this yours?"
Confusion,
Then a groan.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
He'd slipped the note in the wrong locker.
His friend, Cameron, was the quiet one on my left.
A single different number, a single step.
Awkward.
"I need his notes for the English assignment.”
I followed him to his locker.
He retrieved his backpack and lunch box.
He looked at me,
Considered.
"Do you have some I could borrow?"
I did,
Full of doodles in the margins,
Private thoughts on the back.
I hesitated.
"Never mind."
Resignation, never so heavy.
"I have to run. My dad's waiting.
See you in class tomorrow."
Alone, I opened my locker.
My notes,
Mine.
There was no shame in helping someone in need.
I had to repeat myself that.
The number of his locker was fresh in my mind.
Taking paper and pen, I wrote
A single sentence.
'Hope these help.'
_.—._
\_|_|_/
After that first meeting,
Every other morning,
A note waited for me.
First a thanks,
Then questions
And drawings.
Stick figures, although he improved over time.
I replied in kind.
More doodles than words.
They conveyed more.
There was no shame in showing him.
It took time before we talked again.
He tended to keep to his friends, playing cards
Away from the stares
And the jeers.
I didn't have his thick skin.
The comments, I could do without.
Thus, I kept my distance.
His letters brought me out.
We argued, we negotiated.
No display at school, I would say.
Outside, though...
'Let's go eat lunch at the mall,' it read.
Our first date.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
His anniversary card in my backpack,
I took that step toward their corner.
First time I approached him in public.
I knew nobody was watching,
Yet,
I felt like everyone could see.
He was sitting on the ground, before his two friends, a game ongoing between them.
I hugged him from behind
"Lanie," he said, surprised.
"Thanks," I said.
"For what?"
His friend, Cameron, tapped his shoulder.
A meaningful look, eyes half-lidded.
Theo remained confused.
"The card," Cameron said. "Anniversary card."
"Oh!"
"You remembered," I said, pulling the card out.
"Cam wouldn't let him forget," said the third boy.
Glasses on his nose,
A badminton racquet poking out of his bag.
"He kept bugging Theo the whole week."
"Jerry!" said Theo.
"Give credit where it's due."
"You make it sound worse than it is. I would have remembered."
I laughed.
"A team effort. That's good enough."
More laugher.
Poor Theo,
Teased mercilessly.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
I drew.
They played.
We laughed.
We.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
In computer class, I researched something I shouldn't have.
Magic's comprehensive rulebook.
Hundreds of pages.
Why...
I tried, oh I did,
But the first page stretched on,
And the second page was worse. Who wrote this doorstopper?
_.—._
\_|_|_/
That evening, I went to the game store.
Theo's elf deck was fine,
But it was his,
Not mine.
"Welcome back."
Nicholas, playing a game.
Not enough people had come for an event.
I observed his game from over his shoulder.
The first few turns were a blur, a flurry of exchanges.
Aggressive creatures, a land destroyed, tons of damage.
Spells were cast without paying any mana,
Creatures played on
The opponent's turn.
Players killed their own creatures,
Or gave their opponents some more,
Without rhyme or reason.
It defied common sense.
Nicholas won, barely,
Supposedly.
They both agreed, so
Must be true.
"Got all that?" he asked me,
Shuffling for the rematch.
"Want me to explain?"
This was but a glimpse;
I'd yet to scratch
This game's complexity.
"Start with the basics?"
I asked.
——— ——— ———
Quarterfinal, GP Lisbon, 2002,
Nicholas and his opponent play a hypothetical match of Oath of druids (Kai Budde) vs Red deck wins (Tom van de Logt)
_.—._
\_|_|_/
"What colour do you prefer to play?" he asked.
There were five colours, this I knew,
And I enjoyed Theo's green elf deck.
As for the rest, I didn't know.
I told him so.
From his card box, he pulled five decks.
One of each colour.
He explained.
White is union.
Community, creatures working together.
Blue is perfection.
Knowledge, controlled actions toward improvement.
Black is ambition.
Power, independence, individuality.
Red is passion.
Chaotic, fleeting, all-consuming.
And green is intuition.
Accepting fate and the natural order of the world.
Or, in terms I could understand:
Lots of creatures;
Lots of card draw;
Lots of killing creatures;
Lots of burning my opponent;
And few but very big creatures.
"Which one do you want to try?"
My answer was obvious.
"Why not play them all?"
_.—._
\_|_|_/
He laughed.
I'd made a fool of myself.
I was tempted to leave,
Buy a starter pack and cross the door.
That's what I'd come for, nothing more.
"Been there, done that," he told me.
"There's more drawbacks than benefits to playing all five colours."
"I meant to try them one by one."
He shook his head. "Would take too long.
The tournament will start in half an hour.
Friendly advice: don't enter.
This one's out of your league."
More people had arrived,
Seven total, just shy of a full roster,
Not counting myself.
I grabbed one of his decks at random, and got myself seated.
We shuffled.
Slick sleeves.
So soft.
"If I stick around during the tournament," I said,
"Do you mind explaining the games you play step by step?"
He thought about it.
Didn't give me an answer.
Yet, as we played, he explained.
That was answer enough.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
He finished in sixth place.
Bottom tier.
My incessant questions must have distracted him.
"Don't sweat it," he told me.
But I knew when I'd overstay my welcome.
No matter how blasé he was about it.
My starter pack bought, about to leave...
"Delaney."
Nicholas.
"If you want to learn, I'm here on Mondays."
Apology or genuine offer?
Self-help books said to give people the benefit of the doubt.
"I'll be there."
_.—._
\_|_|_/
He had told me much that night.
Sharing tips and tricks,
Many of which I didn't yet understand.
He had said to stick with a pre-made deck
Until I understood its every card inside out.
Weak cards were put in those decks
Either to challenge the beginner
Or as synergy with other cards.
All sixty cards had a purpose.
I told Theo the next day, when he brought more cards he'd bought.
He had so many by now.
I doubt he understood the purpose of every single one.
Theo told me I'd learn more by being exposed to more variety.
By trying different things,
Building different decks.
Always changing,
Never the same.
We agreed to disagree.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
Exposure was, nonetheless, good advice.
That week, I scoured the city for hobby shops:
Online search, phone calls, word of mouth.
Calendar in hand, I noted every place organizing regular tournaments.
Friday was most popular,
But should I desire, I could compete four evenings every week.
The week after, I did just that.
The players at the comic shop were older,
Serious,
Merciless.
The hobby store was a familial business.
Everyone knew everyone else.
I tried. I didn't fit.
The one specializing in board games
Came close to my first experience.
I might become a regular,
If I'm not grounded for the hour of bus ride late at night.
The geek shop was last on the list.
My dignity.
I miss the time the label didn't fit me.
Milwaukee didn't feel so big after so many bus rides.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
I won a booster once.
'Participation prize' they called it.
'Pity prize', more like.
I didn't open it.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
"I'm sick of losing," I told Nicholas,
At the store, on Monday.
He tended to lend me his best deck and take his worst.
I won some.
Less than I wished.
It didn't help the feeling.
"Why not play against yourself?" he said.
I dismissed the idea.
The point of a social game was the people,
The friends, the competition.
Though, despite that,
The game hadn't been fun in a while.
"Play goldfish," he said.
"The goldfish is your opponent.
Twenty life, and it doesn't play a thing.
See how fast you can bring it to zero."
Boring.
"There's others, like Rat.
Every turn starting turn three,
It plays a rat,
With power and toughness equal to the total number of rats."
Exponential growth,
Way too hard!
"Gradual, then?
On turn one, a 1/1; 2/2 on turn two;
And so on until turn five.
Thereafter, it kills your creatures, once a turn."
That... wasn’t that the dream sequence?
"Control's a good one too.
On turn three, it counters everything you play on your three.
On four, it destroys all your creatures.
Five and six, more counters.
And on seven, it plays an unkillable 7/7."
I lowered my head in my folded arms.
"You're a sadist."
He chuckled. "It's no challenge if it's easy."
Yay, goldfish...
_.—._
\_|_|_/
I lost against myself;
A pathetic statement,
Though one I must assume.
I am pathetic, true.
All the more reason
To get better at it.
_.—._
\_|_|_/
Despite my best efforts, Theo kept winning
With a new deck every other day.
I couldn't adapt.
I wasn't sour.
It's just been two weeks of tournaments,
Alone,
Plus one week of goldfishing,
Alone.
Still losing.
No, I wasn't sour.
I called it 'scouting the competition'.
Jerrold was a wild card.
His play style of crazy effects backfired as often as not.
Dishing end or receiving end, we always had a great time.
Cam, quiet as he was,
Played all speed and aggression.
Brutal, predictable, reassuring.
So me spending more time against them
Was a strategic decision,
Nothing more, nothing less.