Calling in Favours

[Oriena]

She presumed from the mark of concentration on her face that Claire really was trying, but no light sprung up around her, and no otherwordly persuasions encouraged the black to the pocket. Despite the plea, no light suffused Oriena's aura in response. The shadow of a smile played across her lips, calculating and devious. Whether they won or lost was inconsequential; what Ori wanted was to push Claire to the brink, until the light flooded in and she claimed the power that was her birthright. Compared to that goal, the taunting and jeers of the boys were little more than the activities of ants beneath her boot heel.

Her eye-contact didn't break; the boys were peripheral. If Claire really wanted to win, she's use her gift to do so. If she didn't, then clearly victory wasn't enough of a motivation to break the barriers that forced her to ask for Ori's aid instead. Her shoulder tilted in half a shrug, either in dismissal or apology; by the expression on her face, it wasn't entirely clear, but her eyes continued to burn with a light that did not look like the anticipation of loss. Her refusal did not come from cruelty, but she was not going to help.

Grinning, Viktor lined up his shot. The ball rocketed straight in. He laughed in surprise, then cast something of an apologetic, puppyish grin to Claire. Ivan sidled up with arms folded over his chest, reveling in the security of his pride allowed to say in tact.

"Ha. You lost, ladies. Time to pay up."