/Victor put the cards away with a sigh. His opponent had been right; the content of the /Decks had decided the outcome even before the game had started. There was just no way a straight creature deck could beat one of the old-style decks, with their /Banned cards that completely changed the environment and rules, and neutralised his entire deck in one stroke. Back /Then, hordes of animals were just one of many kinds of totally different strategies you had to deal with, and solutions were often drastic. Nowadays it was more or less assumed that your opponent would /Attack? you with creatures, and you were more bothered about the particular kinds of creatures concerned.
He always enjoyed this particular route. Parker's Piece had a certain quality at night that made it feel totally removed from the hustle of the town centre. Living in Romsey Terrace was a right royal pain in the mornings, but times like this made up for it. He stopped in the pool of light in its centre, like he always did, and touched the writing scratched into the metal of the /Lamppost. Every so often it would get painted over; that never lasted long, though - the first student to come along after dusk would carefully recreate the grafitti on all four sides. This time, this had clearly happened not too long ago - the scratches felt fresh. "Reality Checkpoint", the writing said, just as it had done for as long as he could remember.