". . . And then he said that it was him and not me and that he wasn't really even interested in boys, and I knew that was a crock of shit 'cause I'd seen him down there just last week with those blond twins, you know, the ones who look like they must live at the gym?"

At the pause in Cantata's story, Soliloquy hummed appropriately in agreement, never taking his eyes from his hand, Silence sitting across from him and waiting patiently for his turn, before he made a decision and discarded.

He didn't mean to be rude, of course; it was just that he had difficulty enough concentrating on the game as it was, and, honestly, the melody of Cantata's somewhat one-sided conversation made a better backdrop than distraction, anyway. If he could just keep Cantata talking and keep himself from listening, he might finally be able to win against this quiet cardshark.

". . . So that's when I said to him - Soli? Soli! Oh, you're not even listening to me, Loquy!"

In the sudden quiet, even the tiny gasp seemed loud. Surprised, they both looked to its origin: Silence sat still and pale in the protective crook of Illusion's dark arm, eyes wide and looking like he didn't know whether to be angry or upset.

He stared at Cantata a moment before he blinked and seemed to return to himself.

Cantata shook free of the trance and turned back toward Soliloquy.

"So anyway, Soli, as I was saying . . ."