A handkerchief held all my gear (OPEN LOG Catch-all April)

[bindlestifflost]

Who: George Milton and ???
When: Most of April
Where: In ADI, on the grounds, and Gloucester proper
Summary: George is familiarizing himself with his new environment and is never content to be in one place for too long.
Warnings: Possibly some of the eye flower weirdness if anyone wants to do a fair/festival prompt, possibly drinking to excess, will update if needed and also warn in individual thread headers.

1. Home Sweet Home?

It's weird, having such a huge space just to himself and maybe two other folks. For now it seems like it's just Nick, and well, he could have done a whole lot worse. Settling in is always a little awkward. He didn't have much of anything to put away. That took no time at all.

So now he's sitting on the sofa in the common room fiddling with the phone, not because he likes it or particularly wants to but because it has been emphasized so much as important, he'd be a fool not to keep at it. He's less outwardly or visibly frustrated working on it alone, just grunting and muttering to himself off and on as he fat fingers his typing or has trouble making one of the apps do what it's supposed to.

He doesn't know how long he has been at it. Long enough for his butt to be sore and his legs to feel like they could use a good stretching when there's a knock at the door. Immediately, he tucks the phone in his jacket pocket as he stands and crosses to it.

"Who's there?" His voice is deep and sharp enough to carry through the wood just fine.

2. The Library

The short guy sitting at the computer terminal doesn't much look like he belongs there. He's staring very intently at the monitor, his typing a painfully slow hunt and peck style. He seems to be trying to research basic history of the region, currently on one of the local government pages of helpful links.

Every now and then he awkwardly moves or clicks the mouse, often followed by a low, "Dammit," or, "No, not you. I want...you." He's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't react at first to the person who comes in behind him. It's only when he hears a definitive noise that he jumps a little and whips his head around, looking almost guilty.

"Sorry. Did you need this?" He's not completely sure he ought to be here, and it shows.

3. The Grounds

At various locations around the grounds, a short, slight man in a brimmed work hat can be spotted wandering and familiarizing himself with the area. He has a fast, no-nonsense gait, like somebody used to being on his feet, and he's never in any one place for very long. When spoken to, he touches his hat brim and gives a nod. He's fine with stopping to chat, especially if he has already met you, but even if he hasn't, he won't brush off a friendly overture.

4. The General's Store

George's voice is increasingly strident as he argues with the beleaguered cashier behind the register. "An' I'm tellin' you 50 bucks for a plain ol' fishin' pole is highway robbery. Not to mention you ain't even including tackle or bait in that. I ain't gonna stand here and let you swindle me. You been swindlin' everybody who works at ADI? That it?"

"Sir, if you'd just..."

"Don't you sir me. Do I look like a sir? Jes' admit you're doing people dirty. I'll tell you what. You put all a' that mess back on the shelf. I don't want none of it. I wouldn't take it if you paid me." Without another word, he's storming for the door.

5. A Bar at the Docks

It took long enough to find the kind of place with the vibe he was looking for, nothing too fancy, just a hole in the wall with beat up barstools and an older woman behind the bar who seems happy enough not to ask too many questions. Like everything else in this damned town, the price of the drinks is sky high. By this point he doesn't care.

He's seated belly up at the far end of the bar pounding gin like there's a run on it, and he may have found the last bottle. There's a certain fixed quality to his thousand yard stare. Hard to tell if he recognizes you or not if you approach.

6. Wildcard!

((OOC: Bring your own prompt, or feel free to use some of the fair prompts from the TDM. George would be playing any number of games there. If you have any questions or want to run something by me, you can hit me up at velocinapper, PM, or Disco. Brackets are also fine!))

Comments

[bindlestifflost]

He does as instructed, slowly and carefully. He has the look of a man who thinks the whole thing is going to break on him at any second if he makes one wrong move. Eventually, he gets to the button that looks like he indicated.

"Awright. Got it. Now what?" He glances at him.

[worthallthis]

Technology at least isn't something Winter is unfamiliar with, even if most of it wasn't something he was supposed to interact with, unless it made something blow up or die. He's seen enough techs using it, though, and had some experience here at ADI, so he can confidently say: "Click on it. Then there will be a slider. Labeled sensitivity. Move it to the left."

[bindlestifflost]

"Awwright." He leans in closer, not because he can't see but because for some reason it makes him feel more focused. He's as careful with that as he has been with the rest of it. "Oh, hey!" he adds almost immediately, giving it a wiggle.

"That's way better." He glances up at him with a quick flash of a grin. "Thanks, fella. Hell, where's my manners? I'm George. You?"

[worthallthis]

"Winter." He leans back, himself, satisfied that he's helped the man's problem. George's problem. "You're new?"

Whether new to the company or new to the world. Winter knows all the employees by sight now, and most newcomers are from another world these days, but it's still best not to make assumptions.

[bindlestifflost]

That's a name he hasn't heard before. He's hearing lots of new names since getting here. "That obvious, huh?" It's a little wry.

"Yeah, I ain't been here too long. People've been nice enough and not pushy. I wasn't born yesterday." Oh, the irony. He could almost smack himself upside the face for that one. "I can read between the lines, see they want us up to date on all 'a this stuff fast." He gives a little shrug. So here he is working, because in his experience, nobody gives anybody anything for free, and a man who can be hired is a man who can also be fired at the drop of a hat.

"How long you been here?"

[worthallthis]

"I know everyone's faces now. So yes," Winter agrees solemnly. (Maybe a hair too solemnly. He's experimenting with humor, but his humor is very subtle deadpan type humor. It's easy to miss.)

He settles back on his heels a little, almost a parade rest but not quite so formal. "July. So it's been almost ten months." He can remember when having memories for a few days was weird. Now he's used to it. Amazing. "Are you working here now, too?" Or is he just taking advantage of having the run of the place to learn what he can, for now?

[bindlestifflost]

He eyes him a beat or two before deciding that was a joke. He can appreciate a wise ass now and then, especially when it's harmless. He nods a little, with a twitch of his mouth. Well played.

"Reckon I am, weird as it is," he says. He's resigned to it, because the alternative is all kinds of difficult in a way he doesn't want to think about. "Not that I got most 'a the skills they seems to be looking for."

[worthallthis]

"Depends on what job they take you on for," Winter says, tilting his head. "There are lots of roles here. Maybe not IT," he allows, nodding at the computer. "But you could do filing. Or communication with the public. Or missions. I do missions and security." Which is probably not surprising, given the tac gear, futuristic though it might be to George, and the size of him.

[bindlestifflost]

"I'm pretty good for keepin' my ear to the ground," he says. "Finding out things people don't want found." It's one of the benefits of being a migrant worker, a drifter. People don't pay attention to drifters and never give them much credit for what they see or hear. He has made use of it often to keep him and Lennie safe. Now...as weird as it sounds, he might have a use for it here, too.

"You look like a fella I'll be glad to have my back if push comes to shove." Yeah, he's a good fit for security.

[worthallthis]

"Intel gathering is an important job," Winter nods. "You can definitely do that here. I'm. Bad at at it." Because he's not subtle. He knows how to hide, but not how to effectively communicate without intimidating people. "Security is a better fit. There have been plenty of things to fight here."

[bindlestifflost]

"You do stand out a tetch." He grins to show he means no offense with a slight nod at his large, metal arm. He allows the grin to fade naturally before following up with a question.

"I've heard about a few things. What you been up against?"

[worthallthis]

Hoo boy, settle in, George. Winter starts listing off threats. In order of appearance. "Kelpies. They turned into horse-lizard things and kidnapped people to stuff into sealskins. We had to cut our people out of the sealskins. A circus where people would set themselves on fire and the mirror maze made you hallucinate. Nightmares that lasted for days and a shared nightmare where we had to kill each other. A girl who controlled bugs and used them to either kill or control other people. Phone cases that bit people and came from sheep-plant things. Snow that trapped us at home magically. An Avatar of Dark who could make copies of herself to hunt others."

And those are just the big ones. He abruptly stops talking and lifts his flesh hand to scrub at his forehead. That was a lot of words, dammit.

[bindlestifflost]

The only reason he isn't laughing is because Winter is far too earnest. It's also not as though he hasn't been through the training and read about the sorts of things they could face. It all sounds ridiculous, worse than anything he has seen on the cover of one of the most lurid pulps.

His first thought is, Thank God Lennie didn't live to see this, followed closely by, Maybe that's why you're here. For most of his adult life the idea of Hell has been some abstract that lost its power to threaten him the first time he ever hit a real hungry streak. What if? What if he bled out right next to Lennie at that stream? Gut shot by Curley for denying him his revenge. What if this fella did something even worse?

He shakes his head abruptly to snap himself out of that completely unhelpful line of thinking. "Makes me feel like maybe they ain't payin' us enough," he says, an attempt at humor that falls a little flat in his own ears.

[worthallthis]

Winter gives a little snort at that. Maybe almost amused. "They pay a lot more than the last people to own me. But you're right, it is dangerous work." He looks aside, across the room, away from George. Not that he's made proper eye contact all this time, but now he's making a point of not looking at him. "Good work, though. We're protecting people."

[bindlestifflost]

"Yeah. I get that impression." Which maybe is old hat for him in some ways, although up to this point, that was always personal and mutual, and he failed about as badly as a man can fail and still count himself among the breathing. Now...

It's easier to focus on how the big guy looks away. He decides not to poke, especially when he has his own sore spot it would be all too easy to prod back. "I 'preciate your help. You done made this job today a lot easier already."

[worthallthis]

Winter nods, accepting the thanks without any kind of verbal acknowledgement. It's just easier that way. "If you need anything else. I pass by this room twice more today before my shift is over, then I'm available in the training room downstairs. I teach self-defense and firearms for a couple hours every day."

It's not exactly an offer for George if he wants it... but it's not not an offer, either. Winter tends to offer it to just about everyone who he comes across, figuring his time with HYDRA makes him better-trained physically than most of the other off-worlders around. Not all, but most.

Also, he likes teaching, weirdly.

[bindlestifflost]

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." The likelihood of him getting deliberately near any kind of firearm willingly ever again is slim to none. Still nice of the guy to offer, and who knows? On some other kind of self-defense, he may eventually take him up.

"Hope your patrollin' stays quiet." Because if it doesn't, they're likely all in trouble.

[worthallthis]

That sounds like a dismissal, so Winter says, "Me, too. I hope your research goes well."

And for now, he'll leave George be to get back to it. He's got hallways to clear.