(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

[bindlestifflost]

"Makes sense things are hard for ya when they never let you have no down time." What he's saying is awful, the sort of thing that makes George want to give the kinds of people who do the kinds of things he's talking about a licking they'd never forget. It's not the kind of thing to say that makes the other person feel any better. So he keeps his sharper edge of anger to himself, behind his more laconic words.

"Sunlight's good. Maybe a little sun and shade both in case it gets real hot out there." He's used to NorCal summers. The humidity here is probably going to be more than a little bit of an adjustment. He can already tell.

[worthallthis]

Winter isn't even sure what he'd do if someone from HYDRA showed up here. He really, really doesn't know.

Talking about the weather is easier. Hey look, maybe he's mastering small talk? "It doesn't get that hot here," Winter promises. "Kind of humid. Not not too hot." He doesn't know how he has intel on what "too hot" actually is like, but it's not this place. "Where are you from?"

[bindlestifflost]

"That's good. I don't like the heat all that much. I'm from California. Born in Auburn but been all over NorCal up and down. Wherever my feet or a bus could take me." He tips his head a little. "Been tryin' to place your accent."

[worthallthis]

"The last base I was stationed at was Washington DC, but I spent a lot of time in Russia. And I maybe. Spent time in New York, a long time ago." If Steve is to be believed.

He shakes his head a little. "I was trained to have as generic of an accent as possible in whatever language I was speaking. Less to be identified by."

[bindlestifflost]

"Guess that explains why it was so hard," he says. It makes sense. "Before now, I ain't never been out of California. Ain't never met a lot a' different kind a' folks aside from us bindle stiffs and the bosses." It sure is turning out to be an eye opener.

[worthallthis]

"I've been to California," Winter says, sure of it, though he can't remember much. "It's. Definitely hotter there."

A pause. "What's a bindle stiff."

[bindlestifflost]

He resists the urge to pop off a smartass, Me, since it's unhelpful and he's not sure this guy would track the humor. "It's what they calls drifters and migrant workers like me where I'm from. Bindle from our blanket rolls, stiff from...well, you ever heard the term 'workin' stiff?' It's like that."

[worthallthis]

He probably would track it, he just might not appreciate it.

Winter shakes his head, but he can pick up the meaning from context at least. "That's a terrible name. It sounds insulting. Shouldn't they call you something better."

[bindlestifflost]

"I dunno. We never took it all that hard. Call ourselfs that, too. Point a' pride, 'cause it takes a certain sort a' man can make his own way on the road. Mostly own hisself." It's more the myth of it than the reality, the things they sold themselves so they could stand to live the way they did, unanchored, most of them lonely, dying alone, unmarked and unmourned. For a second or two, a little of his affable facade freezes.

But in the next instant, he's right back to himself again. "Man can call you whatever he wants. Don't mean nothing if you don't let it stick the way he wants it to."

[worthallthis]

Winter is an observant little asset; he's had to be, between handlers and techs and his line of work. His brows come together at the moment of faltering, but he isn't sure what exactly it means except "something bad".

"You don't like it, even so," he guesses, a little cautiously. "It's like 'asset', with me. A name based on your use. So I won't use it."

[bindlestifflost]

"As far as I'm concerned, Winter and George is good enough for me." No, he'd never call him an asset, and even though he is fine with being a bindle stiff, it's not the worst thing not being one for a change, too.


Guess we're both learning how to be new things." As for how well it will sit with him long term, it's way too soon to tell.