07-07-2026, 03:49 PM
Near has no statistics to back up his declaration of wizards as lucky. He has nothing to refute it, either. He doesn’t know much about wizards in any case, not the mythological or the pop fictional or the real – such as it is – kind. He would venture to say, if pressed, that they are probably luckier than witches at least, in that he has never heard of a wizard hunt. He waits for a peevish explanation of why luck is or isn’t manipulable like a kitchen floor, but Jude doesn’t press; he just offers something resembling a quip. “Your kind of wizard.”
So, standard-ass human being, then.
There does exist some evidence Near could provide to make a case that he is not especially lucky, gambling-wise. See: a handful of stories that begin with high hopes and end with lost paychecks and Near swearing off the activity entirely, right up until the next poker night when surely his fortune would have moved into an upswing phase. But if he starts going on about that, he may begin to question the wisdom of having spent a week learning the finer points of casino blackjack on his phone.
“Observe and judge?” he repeats. Yes, that does sound very right, very Jude. “You sure know how to have a good time.” This is flat. Sarcastic. But it stops short of snide. Jude and his preferences remain a mostly empty category, save a spot tentatively sketched in with Netflix romcoms. Perhaps Jude’s idea of a good time is participating in satanic sex tupperware parties, arguably a more adventurous pastime than watching a roulette wheel spin.
“Tomorrow? I’m on the schedule,” he adds. Being on the schedule is not, technically, having to work. “You ever going to tell me where you’re going? Or is that classified?”
So, standard-ass human being, then.
There does exist some evidence Near could provide to make a case that he is not especially lucky, gambling-wise. See: a handful of stories that begin with high hopes and end with lost paychecks and Near swearing off the activity entirely, right up until the next poker night when surely his fortune would have moved into an upswing phase. But if he starts going on about that, he may begin to question the wisdom of having spent a week learning the finer points of casino blackjack on his phone.
“Observe and judge?” he repeats. Yes, that does sound very right, very Jude. “You sure know how to have a good time.” This is flat. Sarcastic. But it stops short of snide. Jude and his preferences remain a mostly empty category, save a spot tentatively sketched in with Netflix romcoms. Perhaps Jude’s idea of a good time is participating in satanic sex tupperware parties, arguably a more adventurous pastime than watching a roulette wheel spin.
“Tomorrow? I’m on the schedule,” he adds. Being on the schedule is not, technically, having to work. “You ever going to tell me where you’re going? Or is that classified?”