Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190701151243/@comment-5543592-20190712234649

The sound of ringing slot machines washed over Morgan. Lights flashed, dealers shouted at the blackjack tables. A steady game of high stakes poker was going on in one of the corners.

The casino floor was wide, made cramped by an excess of game tables and machines. At the far end of the floor a short flight of stairs led up onto a balcony, where there was a full sized bar.

At this time of day, the casino was dead, occupied only by the truly deseperate and the extremely intoxicated.

The man to Morgan's left, who was continually ringing up losing scores on the slot machine, smelled horrendous.

"Sevens, c'mon.  Seeveennnsss..." he slurred.

Up at the bar it was a little more civlizied. The Desperado must've done a brunch deal of some kind, because there some older folks up there enjoying breakfasts of bacon, eggs, and potatos. It was actually a very pleasant scene.

Finally, she could see a doorway up on the balcony, situated behind the bar. That must've led up into the where the club's ownership dwelled: the Mordinos. While the weakest of Reno's Four Families, the Mordinos were still head and shoulders above most of New Reno's gangs in terms of power.

"What're you even doing here?" Tanner asked.