(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

[worthallthis]

"I'm not even sure what small talk. Is," Winter admits. "But my name is Winter."

Because hey, introductions. Those are, indeed, normal, which is a thing he knew but does tend to forget sometimes. He ought to at least let this person know what to call him.

"And maybe being outside standard and polite. Means you're a better person to ask," he points out. "If you had to figure it out, too."

[whisperedone]

He considers that a moment and nods. "A fair point."

He puts his hand to his chest in lieu of a handshake. "I'm Garner and...small talk is what people fill silence with because they feel they must, instead of accepting that sometimes silence is okay until you and the other party find something to actually talk about."

It could also be a good way to get to know people or to not dive headfirst into direct topics like 'why does your arm sound weird' right off the bat. "For example...I could ask you why you're at this party or who of the host you know, we would then compare notes as to who we know and how...but really, it would simply be a nicety since I can assume you're here to observe as you are and maybe soak in 'normal' interactions that elude you, as I am."

[worthallthis]

"I'm also here to play poker," Winter points out, watching the hand motion with interest, not that Garner can see it. "I know how to do that. The rest is right, though. It's. It's a thing a person would do. Be social."

He considers, then adds, "And I like being around people. It's nice. Interacting with them is harder sometimes. But being around them is good."

[whisperedone]

He tilts his head a moment, but nods. "A fair point. I didn't have any intention of playing poker myself, but George offered to teach me and be my eyes as I needed. It was fun and the patterns and rules are simple."

Rules and patterns were easy for him, logical. To a degree, so were basic interactions with people. A formula to follow that made others comfortable and any other bits of conversation that came from it could be improvised. Like now and a genuine fondness that colors his smile.

"I agree, though. Being around people is nice. Most are...inherently good at heart and being near them is...pleasant. They joke and laugh and I can hear their smiles and it lights up a room into something warm. Besides, meeting new people grants new perspectives and new ideas. Like yours."

[worthallthis]

Winter isn't as sure about people being inherently good at heart-- he's had a lot of experience that says most people aren't actually all that great-- but some of the ones he's met here seem pretty okay. "George is kind that way," he agrees with that much.

He tilts his own head, then adds, "Not sure I've got any new ideas for you, though. And I'm not very good at smiling."

[whisperedone]

Garner smiles instead, as though he might simply make up for Winter's lack of one.

"It takes some practice, I think. But I am afraid I must disagree on your other assertion. You inherently do have new ideas...because you're you and not me." He says it as simply as the if it were the fact the sky were blue in the daytime.

"I am not a sniper, not before when I could see and certainly not now, that alone means you see things differently than I do and have other ideas. We are at this party for similar but different motivations, that is new and different to me." His smile fades to something softer and he shrugs. "Ideas don't need to be big to be learned from."

[worthallthis]

That's kind of fascinating to consider. Winter still isn't sure what he might be able to contribute-- he's not even very good at being a person, yet-- but the idea that someone might actually value his ideas outside of combat or mission situation is kind of novel. "What ideas have you learned from me?" he asks, with genuine interest. "Or. Want to learn from me?"

[whisperedone]

He sweeps the hair idly from his face as he thinks. "Well...I have learned that there is an inherent drive for community and connection, even when we perhaps think we do not belong to such things or have little to offer in return for receiving them, we still crave it. We social creatures, no matter the society. I have learned that even if someone has gone through immense pain to lose such a sense of oneself, there can still be a gentleness left behind. That is heartening."

His smile tilts a bit at one corner. "And, while this is not an idea so much as new information, I have learned that there a metal appendage might be quite a bit more silent than I would have expected." For the most part.

"I think I would like to learn what it is you see with your trained eye when you look around, not just tactically but personally. I think there's insight to be had in your perspective."

[worthallthis]

Oh.

Well.

Winter blinks a few times, and is silent for a moment. He's gentle? That's not a word he'd ever have thought to apply to himself. He's a weapon. An assassin. Those aren't... gentle. Are they? (He did ask. He probably shouldn't be questioning what he was told.)

He winds up commenting on the easiest part to address, in all that. "It is a very advanced metal arm. You can feel it, if you want."

And he'll hold it up, fingers curled in a loose fist, gears whirring at the motion to give Garner a reference point to where it is.

[whisperedone]

Garner was certainly curious, he liked to learn and the sound of this prosthetic was different from how the others he'd seen and heard had been. Had he stuck around his community long enough, he'd have been required to fulfill the rest of his obligations and his own left arm would surely now be replaced with something else. A weapon or something magic-based, if he were lucky and important enough.

Fortunately, it's with two natural hands he reaches up to feel for Winter's metal one. He cups the back of it when he finds it and runs his fingers over the smooth metal and seams with interest.

"Can you feel through it?"

[worthallthis]

"Some. Not as much as the other hand. Or the same way. It's mostly pressure and temperature, not texture. I can feel you touching it," he explains, holding the metal arm very still for the inspection. "But not what your fingers feel like." And, because people have actually asked this, he adds, "It does not come off."

cw: brief, vague mention eye trauma

[whisperedone]

"Well, I would hope not, it's your arm." Even if it's fake, it seemed too attached, too refined to be easily detachable. Like the Erzat's Eyes that were popular among his old brethren who still wanted to be able to see out of their left eye. Once that was in, it was simply theirs.

His hands drop once his curiosity is satisfied enough. "It's fascinating it even has that much. What prosthesis exist where I'm from are limited to magic or simple weapons. Did you have it made for you?"

[worthallthis]

"I don't remember." He brings his hand back, flexing the fingers with more humming of machinery, then tucks it into his pocket. "It wasn't my choice, though. HYDRA installed it. They may have designed it for me, or they might have found it somewhere and made it work. It's anchored all along my body on the left side. Under the skin. Wired into my spine, I think."

[whisperedone]

Garner flinches lightly for the description. That...sounded painful, though if it was done well, perhaps not. A surgery like that simply wouldn't be possible back home.

"I'm sorry it was forced on you." Because that sticks out most. Garner might have lost use of his left eye to his group's cause, but it had been his choice to go through with the ceremony. "I know I will not have context and you certainly don't have to answer if you do not wish to, but what is hydra?"

[worthallthis]

"Secret organization inside the government. Inside a few governments. Wanted order. And order only comes through pain." He shrugs a little, a rustle of fabric and an uncomfortable shift of metal plates. "They owned me. I was their wind-up assassin."

[whisperedone]

"Ah. You have my sympathy." It...honestly sounded a lot like the Remnants, though Garner could argue he'd been a bit more than a wind-up assassin, the sentiment was similar. Order through subjugation and pain because people couldn't be trusted with all their chaos. He only wished he was more surprised there were other such groups in other worlds.

"Well...you're here now and your arm is yours, as are your actions." He smiles again. "And your desire to learn through people watching. I would argue that is distinctly a you choice."

[worthallthis]

"That is a choice I made, yes," Winter can agree. "I'm not having much luck with anything else. Except asking. Sometimes people are helpful when you ask." A pause. "Sometimes they hit you with purses, though. You have to be careful who you ask. And what you ask."

[whisperedone]

Garner blinks. "I don't think I've ever been hit with a purse. I'm...sorry?" He's assuming that's an uncomfortable experience.

"Well, I can't promise any insight through watching me, but if you've ever a need or desire to, I promise I've no purse to hit you with...nor an inclination to, even if I did."

[worthallthis]

"Thank you," Winter says solemnly, like this is a great concession on Garner's part. Really, having so many people just offer to talk about normal human behavior with him is more than he'd really expected.

And, because he can't think of a question right now, he tries for, "Tell me something about you. About. Where you come from?"

[whisperedone]

That gives him a moment of pause. Should he say where he came from or talk of Tal'dorei or Exandria as a whole? "I'm not sure what insight it might offer...I come from a place not like Earth. The same world as Caduceus and Beau, if you've ever talked with either of them. More specifically, I grew up in a valley with a small and particular village away from most other forms of society. I did not leave it until a year and a half ago."

He tilts his head and shifts to lean more against the wall once more. "What about you?"

[worthallthis]

"I know Caduceus," Winter nods. "We had tea once." He'd seemed okay, up until Winter found out he worked in medical.

He frowns at the question. "I don't remember a lot. Mostly HYDRA. I could describe the bank vault that was our base. My cryo-tube. But it's pretty boring." The Chair isn't boring, but that's kind of awful to talk about in general.

[whisperedone]

If Caduceus was truly a firbolg, Garner suspects it was hard to miss him, they were not known for being short and the one time they'd talked, he'd sounded higher than even Garner's head level. Winter knowing him made sense and at least it was a good enough answer.

Confusion takes over instead and creases Garner's brow. "What is a...'cryo-tube?' Something to do with cold, I would imagine."