Episode: 7.8

--- Ozzy ---

He looked down at the various card sets Trish had given him before running off claiming that she, wanted to beat him without cheating and looking at his cards.

(Not that’d make much of a difference.)

While he did know how to play, he’d never gotten as into the game as Lily during her high school days, and as such was more than used to getting his ass handed to him in the game.

(Going to be just like old times just… without everyone else…)

Something in his chest hurt at that idea, and he forced himself to actually look at the box sets and make a deck so he could get this whole mess over with.

Now usually, if one of his sisters talked him into playing, he’d use a mix of magic and tech cards. Due to the former’s versatility and the latter’s ability to build up on itself, giving him a way to defend himself for the few turns necessary to hit his opponent hard.

Part of him was tempted to default on his other strategy, but a larger part of him didn’t want to remember playing the game the way he did with his friends and family before- (Ghastly green eyes… gnawing hunger… sweet crimson…) -everything…

Shaking his head, he pushed away any set even slightly resembling what he’d normally use, as well as any cards his (family) would’ve used. Which left him with either a Deadman deck, (because nobody in Amityville trusted a Deadman) or a Madness deck, since he didn’t actually know anyone who’d be willing to play with that gambler’s deck.

(Except maybe mom…)

With a wave of resignation, he pushed away the box filled with Madness cards and pulled over the shoe box sized container with the image of a skeletal Deadman with a single glowing eye standing behind a bar counter with a number of patrons who looked like walking corpses.

(Guess I might as well get used to playing Deadman…)

Having read the set name of ‘Baron’s Last Call,’ he removed the box top all while wondering what kind of cards his fellow Deadmen would inspire.

(The developers probably had to push the T-rating to make anything for them.) He thought with a hint of morbid amusement.

The inside of the box had the cards split into four categories, with Deviant or Character cards taking up one half of the box alongside Equipment and Event cards, and Skill cards taking up the entirety of the other half. Though those were divided into different playstyles.

Figuring he should start with arguably the most important category, he grabbed the Deviant cards and started shifting through them before frowning.

(Of course…)

In Deviant’s Masquerade, Deviant cards were typically divided into a mix of heroes, villains, and rogues with the former two being unable to work together outside of certain circumstances.

What this meant was that anyone who played the game could essentially create a team of ‘heroes’ or ‘villains’ to play as. And despite his protest towards his sisters always calling him the ‘good guy’ he had a distinct tendency to (always be the hero) in any game that would allow it. Solely because it felt (wrong to be a villain.)

Fortunately, for most Deviancies types this wasn’t that big of a deal since there were plenty of legends on both sides of the law, and each card set made sure to have at least four cards from each category.

Unfortunately, the same apparently couldn’t be said of Deadmen, who only had a single heroic Deviant card in the form of Mama Brigette, the Baroness of New Orleans.

(Guess, I should’ve expected that with the whole cannibal thing…) He couldn’t help but think bitterly.

Figuring he could just grab a couple of heroes from a different set, he moved to put the cards back before his eyes stopped on the image of pale lady with red hair helping an injured child.

(Though I guess, if Brigette was good enough to get a hero card despite being a Deadman, I should at least give her a chance…)

Deciding it couldn’t hurt, he gave the card another once over and noted that she wasn’t the worst card he’d seen, and that despite her low attack and speed, she still had a fairly high amount of HP as well as fairly decent healing ability.

(Eh, fuck it… I’ll use her card.)

Looking at the female (hero)’s image once more a curiosity struck him, and he flipped the card over to read her biography on the back, while some part of his mind was hoping she’d prove to be at least half as heroic as the heroes he usually chose.

(“The nineteen twenties were the height of the ‘Voodoo wars,’ an event that is widely considered the first recorded public outing of Deviants. One that was hidden away as the corrupt law of the time suppressed any and all mention of the wild ‘voodoo boys’ and their part in the prohibition gang wars.”)

(Huh, didn’t know that…) He’d always thought Deviants first popped up during the rift riots a couple decades back. (That’s what the history textbooks at school say anyway…)

(“During this time the group known as the Barons came to power as a group of small time heroes and villains who fought to push back the more violent and organized crime syndicates, before taking stage as a ‘gang for the people.’”)

He nearly snorted at the mere idea of that.

(“Of these Barons the most heroically known was ‘Mama Brigette’ a young Irish woman who was murdered during the gang violence, before coming back as one of the first confirmed Deadmen. One with an obsession towards protecting those who were otherwise endangered by the ongoing crime and healing the scars of those harmed by the violence.”)

He felt an odd sort of cool warmth in his chest at that, the woman’s death and resurrection resonating with something inside of him.

(“From her resurrection on Mama Brigette used her newfound abilities to heal and protect the innocent of New Orleans alongside her husband ‘Papa Bones’, before fading into obscurity with the rest of the barons as the ‘Voodoo war’ came to its violent end.”)

Something inside him loosened as he reread that line several times more than strictly necessary.

Raising one of his hands, he pushed the power in him to the surface, watching as the muscle beneath his palm began to glow a faint green as his hand began to give off a cool mist.

(‘to heal and protect the innocent…’ huh?’)