Manehattan House of Refugees

"Shut it and pass the bottle," Thespian groaned from where he sat on the floor. It being a good bit past sunset, the small living room was completely empty barring the three ponies currently playing cards on the floor. While no food was brought, they still snatched a bottle from the kitchen on their way through the hall.

Ghost frowned before taking said bottle into his hoof and passing it toward the hungover batpony. "You say that like its alcoho--"

"I said shut it, Ghostie." Thespian groaned again before sliding a card over to Rage. "Hit me."

"Wish I could," Ghost joked, giving him a conspiratory smirk. "But it’s poor form to kick a pony while they're down."

Thespian muttered something inaudible before throwing in a plastic chip. Looking down at his pair of 2's and 4's, Ghost couldn't help but feel an edge of confidence. He decided to carry through, and tossing in a twenty-point chip to match it. Rage followed after him. With the unsteady flourish of a drunken undead, Thespian threw his cards in the center of the floor, showing off three princes and two 7's.

"Even half dead, I still kick both your flanks at poker," Thespian stated while taking a swig of fruit juice.

"Well, it's hard to read your face through all that humiliation."

"Shut it." Thespian laid his head on his forehooves, looking like he was ready to sink into unconsciousness. "By Sunbutt's glorious flank, that was some hard stuff."

"She does have a rather nice flank," Rage added with a slightly-too-wide smile.

"I still find it hard to believe you made it past basic," Thespian commented offhandedly. "I just wish I could remember what was on the label of those bottles."

"To stay away from future cross-dressing experiences?" Ghost prodded.

"Buck no. I want seconds."

Ghost took a second to process that. Trying not to think on it any further, he took the now-shuffled deck from Rage and dealt out the cards, five to each pony. That complete, he put the cards aside and looked at his hand. Sadly, none matched, and his highest card was a princess. Still, he would see what came of his trade-in.

"So what did you do with the armor?" Rage asked. "Did you get a good look at the mare you... borrowed it from?"

"It's not borrowing if it's mine to keep, and yes." Thespian responded tiredly while rearranging his cards. "Larger build. Blue. Eyes of fury. Bristling mane."

Rage whistled. "When you say large..."

"Curves." Thespian deadpanned. "I'll let you think they were flattering and leave it there."

"So umm... the armor..."

Ghost and Thespian paused to stare at Rage.

"--Nevermind."

Ghost shrugged before swapping out cards from everypony; two for Thespian, three for himself, and one for Rage. He couldn't help but notice Rage had his face a little too close in his cards. Thespian, meanwhile, was still looking out of it and completely miserable, though it was a familiar sight Ghost admitted. Looking down at his own hoof of cards, he saw he had a pair of 6's.

"I fold," Thespian said.

"I fold too," Ghost added, throwing his cards on the table.

"Buck," Rage grunted, putting his cards down as well.

Ghost gathered all the loose cards together and began shuffling them again between his hooves. Once done, he passed them over to Thespian, who was emptying the last of the bottled juice.

"So what are you planning on doing with the armor?"

"Keep it, pawn it, parade around in it on Nightmare Night. I don't know." Thespian admitted while dealing out the next round of cards. "It doesn't fit right either way. Large mare or not, that plate mail isn't made for stallions."

"I would think not. I'm surprised it even fit," Ghost said.

"To be honest, it arguably didn't." Thespian nodded.

After a round of light betting--Ghost having a pair of 3's right off the bat--the group swapped cards and continued their game in a silence that lasted until Thespian once again beat out both Ghost and Rage. Ghost may have gotten three 3's in the end, but he still lost to Thespian's four 9’s.

"Sometimes, I swear you cheat," Ghost commented grudgingly.

"Yeah," Rage added, "you beat us almost every hand."

"I don't," Thespian added tiredly, "when I'm likely to lose, I just fold."

"But you still seem to know," Rage continued, his eyes going wide. "It’s like you have some seventh sense, or the ability to read our minds. It’s creepy man! To know exactly how the cards are gonna be dealt…"

"...Or my cutie mark happens to be a royal flush, and my talent happens to be card games." Thespian frowned. “Seriously, dude. You’ve even won a hand or two already.”

“Yeah, but against Ghost, only after you folded,” Rage muttered quietly, looking at Ghost who was sporting a growing smile.

"I thought your talent was getting black-out drunk and stumbling home reeking of debauchery and shame," Ghost said with his eyes locked on the bat pony.

Thespian glared at Ghost with a look that would peel wallpaper. His bared teeth and low growl completed the look of wrath quite well. Ghost simply returned it in his own way, his eyes drilling coldly into Thespian's red slits.

"I outta rip off your tail, Pale."

"You've proven that tail is the last thing you can get a hold of."

The two continued to glare at each other, Rage just awkwardly sitting off the side and well out of business, before both feuding ponies burst out laughing.

"Anyone other than you would catch heck for that, Ghostie," Thespian chuckled, his fangs still left in plain sight.

"It's just a shame they really did take scissors to your backside," Ghost said offhandedly. “That’s an attractive look for a stallion.”

Thespians smile immediately fell from his face. He whipped his head around and stared wide-eyed at the small bob of hair that was one his tail. Severe headache aside, this was essentially the first time he had been sober since last night. The simple fact that he was missing his tail sunk in only then, and when it hit, it hit him right the ego.

"OH BUCK!"