The Tournament, Danger Shop, Day Three

[atreideslioness]

It was the last day of the tournament, and everything had come down to one match -- a game of chess. A lone spotlight too brightly illuminated the regulation chess board, timer and chairs at center stage, and the space surrounding it seemed very bare and empty.

Ghanima Atreides	"We're at a tie, gentlemen," Ghanima said as she took her seat. "The score stands at eight to eight." "If you would like to concede now and leave, I'm sure Mayor Summers would be happy to accept."
Deathstroke	"We stay until it's over," Deathstroke replied, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't going to say which he thought more likely to win.
Tyler Durden	"We let the kids play," Tyler agreed, unconcerned. Win or lose, this was a nice jolt of chaos to his week. "Then ... we see."
Ghanima Atreides	She moved so fast it was as-if the knife bloomed from the table right next to Tyler's seat, Ghanima's hand still lightly resting on its hilt. "Yes." She turned her attention to the area, not bothering to re-sheathe her weapon. "We will see."

[OOC: Please wait for the OCD! OCD Good! On your marks, get set, GO!]