(Open Log) You gotta know when to hold 'em

[bindlestifflost]

Who: George Milton, Nick Valentine, and anybody who shows up
When: April 22, starting around 6 PM until
Where: Apartment A-3
Summary: A night for playing cards, drinking beer or b.y.o.b. if harder, snacks and unwinding. Feel free to thread jack and jump all around, at least in my threads. This is just for some relaxed down time and catching up or introductions in a smaller, casual space.
Warnings: None expected. If your characters get to discussing anything triggery or get up to anything spicy, please CW in your individual threads.



Over the past week or so, hand printed signs drawn in sharpie on plain paper have shown up taped to walls around the apartment complex and on any easily accessible bulletin boards at ADI. A couple of them were also delivered to the flophouse with the request they be displayed somewhere the residents might see them.

They read:
Cards and Beer
Friday April 22 6 PM
Apartment A 3
George and Nick's place
You want more than beer
or chips and popcorn
bring your own.
Extra decks appreciated.

The night of, the door to A 3 is propped open. In addition to the dining table, a couple of card tables and cheap folding chairs are set up for games. Two bowls on the coffee table contain chips and popcorn respectively. There's a cooler on the floor in the kitchen filled with ice and cheap beer.

George or Nick will greet people as they come in and tell them to make themselves at home.

((OOC: Feel free to top level with your own character and make whatever prompts you like. George is generally easy-going, but if he catches anyone stealing, getting too hot and heavy in a bedroom, or otherwise being a general jerk about the apartment or the other guests, he will try to throw the offender out. If you want that kind of thread or want to succeed at something nefarious, let me know so we can work it out.))

Comments

George OTA

[bindlestifflost]

1. Welcome

For a host, George is very relaxed, waving people in with an easy, "Hey, glad you could make it." If he knows and likes the character, he leans in to shake their hand and guides them over to the ice chest to show where they can grab a beer. If his encounters with them have been less than friendly, he gives a more terse nod without being an ass about it. Tonight's not a night for grudges in his book.

"Cards is out. If you got an idea what you want to play, get you a partner and get to it. Let's keep the bettin' friendly tonight. I don't want to see no sour pusses or spoilsports."

2. Card Sharks in the Waters?

Look. George isn't saying you cheated, but he sure is squinting a stink eye after you've swept the table for the third time in a row. "Think that's a sign somebody else needs to warm my chair a while," he says, sweeping his hand back up into the deck and passing it off to someone else to shuffle and deal for a while.

He stands and ambles over to the ice chest to check the level of the ice and the beers, and if the popcorn or chips bowls are low, he heads over to a cabinet to get some refills. If you're nearby, he'll offer a friendly, "You doin' alright? Need help learning any a' the games?"

Or he'll point subtly at his latest card nemesis and say, "Better watch that one. They'll clean ya out."

3. Outside

Every once in a while, George steps out to lean against the outer wall of the apartment and just take in a little fresh air and quiet. Hands in his pockets, he tips his head back and closes his eyes. It's a cool night. He's glad he threw on his jacket.

If he hears footsteps or someone addresses him directly, he'll smile a little and shrug. "Sometimes a man jes' wants to hear himself think. You're fine. I don't mind the company."

4. Wildcard!

None of the above strike your fancy? Hit me with something else. Just don't expect me to RP any actual card threads. lol

2. Card Sharks in the Waters?

[lavorreable]

"Isn't that the point though?" Jester, who'd shown up a little after 6 with a snack contribution of a stack of different flavored Oreo cookie packages half as tall as she is, turns to look at George from the table. She overheard him disparaging her playing, but there's definitely no hard feelings as she sticks her tongue out at him.

"I'll... uh... fold? Right, fold." She cheerfully tosses a hand that had at least two Aces in it and gets up to join George. Instead of going for the ice chest, she hops up and sits on the counter beside him, kicking her legs gently and grabbing a birthday cake flavored Oreo. "This is fun! I like gambling with cards."

[bindlestifflost]

He wrinkles his nose at her for pulling that face at him. "Better watch that, or it'll stick," he calls. She caught him talking applesauce. He'll own up to it. He waits for her to join him before finishing his path into the kitchen.

Pulling down another party sized bag of Ruffles from the cabinet, he tears it open. "Yeah? Me too. Didn't know I was working with a bunch a' high rollers. Over half 'a them folks'd clean out an entire bunkhouse in one night." He shakes his head. His gambling skills aren't even close on par, not that it was the point of this little shindig.

"I ain't used to a house bein' so quiet. Thought this was a good way to liven things up." It has worked, too. He feels better about things than he has since he got here, seeing people being sociable and letting some of the starch out of their shirts. After shaking the bag into the big bowl, he takes a few chips to pop into his mouth.

[lavorreable]

"Me either. I mean, it was mostly me and Mama, but there were always other people there like Blud and Mama's clients coming in and out too. When I started traveling, I was alone and it was way too quiet so I'm really glad I made friends. It's the same here too!" She smiles broadly at George, clear in her meaning that now they're friends, whether he likes it or not.

"Loud parties are the best parties, especially when everyone is having so much fun." She reaches across to George's other side, aiming for the chips. Oreos and potato chips together is something she suddenly really wants to try.

[bindlestifflost]

"I left home to find work pretty early. Didn't really hit the road until L-later." It's such a quick correction he could've easily been stumbling over his words because of the beer or the noise or any old thing. "It ain't good to be on the road alone. Glad you found some friends." And his grin back says he's going to go ahead and count her in that number, too, as much as he does anybody when he finds himself working with them for a while.

He pushes the bowl more into her reach. "I wasn't sure people'd come. I know we's got a lot of work to do. Can't work all the time."

3!

[lowficharm]

Martin doesn't actually know most people here, nor is he very used to the concept of a card game night. All of his previous jobs have been either retail hells or very, very weird, so this sort of bonding is the kind he's only seen in films. But he's feeling like he doesn't know a lot of people lately- like many have come and gone- and he should make an attempt at getting to know some of them.

Frankly, he's nervous, and it's most likely he's already somewhere outside when George sets up. It takes a minute or two for him to casually slide to his side, give a little smile.

"Hey, I-- sorry, don't mean to bother. You're the one who set this up, right? It's, uh, it's nice. Very lively."

[bindlestifflost]

George seems to take it in stride, the sidle up, the friendly overture. He shifts a little in his lean so that he's facing him just a little more, facing out a little less. "That's right. George Milton." He offers a hand to shake, drawing it out of his deep jacket pocket.

"Ain't no bother a'tall. Glad you could make it. Jes' call me George. Everybody does."

[lowficharm]

Martin takes it, tries to give what he thinks is a confident shake, but George likely beats him. At the very least, he's giving a smile about it.

"Nice to meet you, George. I'm Martin. Uhm, Martin Blackwood, but you know, just-- just Martin, the full name is so, so formal? Not really me." As George can probably tell, he's the wordy type, the British accent making him sound maybe more sophisticated than he is. "I guess you probably didn't show up here too long ago? I mean, not, not that I know everyone, just-- been here a bit, sort of get to know the, the faces and all."

[bindlestifflost]

"Jes' Martin it is," he says, his voice as easy as his manner. The guy seems the nervous type. He generally tries to set others at ease unless they give him a reason not to. This guy? Nobody he wants to rub the wrong way. It'd be sheer meanness.

"Yeah, I ain't been here too long. Couple a' weeks or so now. Figured as much work as we all put into learning our way around, maybe we don't get much chance a' saying hi and kickin' off the dust." He shoves his hand back into his pocket.

"How long you been here?"

[lowficharm]

Considering how much the universe has been mean to Martin, you'd be surprised, buddy.

George's accent is a little odd, like something Martin's heard on an old movie and not ever spoken to in real life. His little British mumbling is also probably foreign, so he's not going to draw attention to it. "Well, uhm... gosh, nine, ten months? It was last summer. Most people, uhm, haven't been here that long? Or well, ADI said it was, uh, more recently. But most of us, uhm, still less than a year."

He's trying to offer a smile as if that's reassuring, but it really depends on the person if ten months is a good or bad thing. He'll see how George reacts and go from there.

[bindlestifflost]

"That's longer than I usually stay in one place." He can already tell that's going to be a challenge for him above and beyond all the weirdness and his difficulty adjusting to the expense of things.

"If this is too pryin', tell me to go pound sand, but you got any idea why you in particular might've been dragged here? It ain't somethin' I've been able to figure out for myself." What business a migrant farm worker from almost a hundred years ago has in this place is a puzzle he might never put together. It's not stopping him from trying.

"Something else. There sure are a lot a' us from England."

[lowficharm]

"Oh, no, it's-- it's fine. I don't really know, though?" It's a lie- he knows damn well, but that's very much his secret, and at face value there's no good reason to assume he'd done anything to end up here. "I mean, I worked in a library? Before this. Some people were from, uhm, worlds with magic and stuff, but some of us are just... unlucky, I suppose."

None of what he says is wrong, which makes the whole thing easier; George isn't the first person he's lied to and he certainly won't be the last. "But there are, uh, l-lots of us from Britian, right? I thought it was just me n' Jon at first, but then people just sort of keep coming. Kind of nice to have some familiarity, though. Little bit of home."

2.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm glances over to where Neal is pulling another pot towards himself with a grin and then looks at George.

"He's kind of a professional," he explains with a shrug. He picks up a beer and offers it to George. "Do you have card nights a lot where you're from?"

[bindlestifflost]

"Him and about half this room," he says. He's more kicking up a fuss for the fun of it than meaning anything, his expression a lot more wry than the words alone imply.

He accepts the beer and pops the top, quickly lifting the can to suck in the foam before it can run down over his hand. "Shit, practically every night's a card night at the bunkhouse for somebody." Even if it's nothing more than running a game or two of solitaire. "Ain't much to do once the sun goes down."

That's not counting the weekends when they kick it up more and spill over into town. That's not the sort of conversation for politer company.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm glances around and nods concession.

"Well. Not me, if it's any consolation. I'm great at squash, though." Nobody plays squash here.

[bindlestifflost]

"Yeah? What's squash?" He's imagining some game with a vegetable. He's already pretty sure he's wrong.

[abrightboy]

“It’s kind of like… tennis? Except the ball is smaller and made of rubber and it’s played against a wall. The ball moves wicked fast. It’s a lot of fun,” Malcolm informs him. “I also throw axes competitively. Or. I used to.” He shrugs it off. “It’s been a while.”

[bindlestifflost]

"Huh." Tennis. That's a sport for rich folks. He's never even seen a racket.

"Ain't you full a' surprises. Bet you'd clean up at horseshoes." There's a thought. Wouldn't cost much of nothing to sink a stake somewhere and get his hands on a few.

[abrightboy]

“I’ve seen it on TV, but I’ve never played it,” Malcolm tells him. “Is that popular on the farms where you work? Is it fun?”

1.

[failedpromise]

Oh hey George, remember Cortana? You probably should, considering in addition to teaching Cybersecurities class she's also your neighbor. And she tends to walk around naked a lot.

Like now. All she's wearing is her little flash drive on a necklace. She's brought extra cards and a 12 pack of hard seltzer-likely intended as a sort of peace offering for the inherent unfairness of her being an AI, since she certainly can't drink them.

And if George doesn't stop her, she's gonna waltz in like she owns the place. With no clothes on.

...George should probably stop her.

[bindlestifflost]

George has just finished greeting a guest and is about to turn back toward the kitchen to show them where to put their food when he spots her, eyes bugging for a comical three seconds or so before narrowing down almost to slits. It was one thing sitting in that class trying to pretend she wasn't there in the altogether. Not to mention he was still new enough to feel more than halfway off balance and feeling stupid enough in that class that he'd probably have accepted help from the Devil himself if he sounded halfway like he knew what he was talking about.

But this is his house. (His and Nick's.) And he'll be damned if she comes sailing up in here like she owns the place nekkid as a jaybird and shameless as Eve. "Nuh uh," he says, blocking the door with a hand up, palm out.

"You're welcome t' be here, same's everybody else, but I'm gonna need you to put yourself some clothes on. You ain't got none, between me and Nick here, I'm sure we can get you covered." Piecemeal and very unfashionably, but that's not the important part.

[failedpromise]

Cortana's eyes widen in surprise as she comes to a stop, blinking.

No one has actually challenged her on this before. Most people don't even comment on it. There's really not much point to clothing on a hologram ...though she supposes that she is no longer just a hologram.

She pouts at him.

"Oh come on, I spent almost an hour designing this thing." Yes, she means her body. She got to pick what it looked like, and she's spent a lot of time over the years tweaking it to perfection. In some ways, it could be considered an art piece or personal statement.

A very sexy personal statement.

[bindlestifflost]

"Uh huh." He's not completely sure what she even means by that, but as far as he's concerned, it's beside the point.

"An' you can bring it all in as long as you got something coverin' it. This ain't that kinda party." He folds his arms. He may not be a large or intimidating man by anybody's reckoning. Right now, he's putting off vibes of Gibraltar.

And being very careful that his eyes stay north of her collar bones.

[failedpromise]

"Optimistic of you to think I'd even show up to that kind of party." Her outfit choice might make it hard to believe, but she's not that kind of girl.

She sighs, and stamps her foot. "I'll go get my shirt." After a moment, she sets down the box of seltzer and the deck of cards. "Have someone take these in for me?"

Whether he does or not, she's going to go. (Given where he's looking, he might notice the wing markings on her back.) A few minutes later, she'll come back wearing a sweatshirt. It's oversized enough that it actually affords decent coverage, even without any pants. At least, you're going to have to actually be trying to get a look at her tits or ass.

[bindlestifflost]

He bites down on his retort that he'd be the last one to throw one, given she's agreeing to do as he asked without kicking up more of a fuss about it. "Thanks," he says, his voice a little rough. Of all of the things he's trying to get used to here, people running around naked with nobody saying a damned thing about it is high on the list of weirder.

"Yeah, I'll do that." He bends to pick up the carton and deck. He takes the markings for tattoos, which only cements his impression she's one of those shameless sorts, or maybe even grew up in a circus for all he knows.

When she returns, he lets her in without any further fuss. Bare legs are also something he's not all that used to. He's not so stupid he won't pick his battles. "Glad you could make it. Beer's in the kitchen along with food some people brung. You can help yourself."