[ He raises an eyebrow at that — surely, Ratio thinks, he doesn't mean anything, but as his gaze sweeps across the other man's body, Ratio mentally shakes his head. No, the other man clearly means anything, and it takes restraint to keep himself from frowning. He won't deny that he's attracted to the blonde. Ratio isn't a man who indulges in lying, even to himself. But they've only just met. What if Ratio was some man of lesser moral standing? Or worse, some kind of murderer? There's a lack of self preservation here that Ratio finds unhealthy, but it's not his place to say. Or judge. ]

'Anything' is a vague term to use, gambler, but I'll take your bet. Though I do find it odd that you are willing to place a bet on a game you do not know how to play.

[ There's a small cube of blue chalk on the edge of the table, and Ratio picks it up, tossing it to the other man with precision. He doesn't even bother to look if it'll be caught — it will, because he calculated the precise angle and force needed for it to do so. It's time to start the lesson. ]

That is chalk, [ he says, as he starts grabbing the balls from the compartment under the table, placing them into the triangle shaped rack, sorting them according to their numbers. ] Rub a bit of it on the tip of the cue to keep the cueball from slipping when you hit it. We will play a simple game of eight ball, because the rules are simple. You will take the solid colors, and I will take the stripes. The goal is to put all of your solid colors excluding the black eight ball into the pockets at the sides and corners of the table before I can put my striped ones in. Once all of your balls have been removed from play, then you will attempt to pocket the eight ball. Whomever pockets the eight ball first, after their respective balls have been removed from play, wins.

[ He lifts the triangle, and hangs it on it's hook. ]

Do you understand?