(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]

He's silent for a moment. He can tell that this makes her unhappy, though he's not going to pick up on the guilt. That's one emotion he doesn't have a lot of experience recognizing in people. He finally says, "I'm sorry. You lost them. They weren't like you, exactly. But. They were a little." If she could live in their heads, they had to have something in common with her, he thinks.

CW: Slavery mentions

[failedpromise]

She mimicks sucking in a breath. There's more truth to that than he knows.

There was a time when she didn't agree with the comparison, when she thought that AI work was special and fulfilling and that Spartans were just automatons without any choice or joy in their jobs. After meeting the Chief she knew the latter wasn't the case, but it was a long time before she realized that the former wasn't entirely the case either.

Both Spartans and AI were intelligent, feeling beings treated as little more than military hardware. Property, not people.

"I only really knew the IIs, but ...thanks, Winter."

[worthallthis]

He nods a little.

He has no idea what to say after that, though. Maybe... this is not great conversation for a party, is it? So he changes it. "Do you eat? Drink? I brought hot cocoa. There's still some left."

[failedpromise]

She frowns at that. "Unfortunately, no. I can't even taste." No cocoa for Cortana. Which honestly she's fine with: she's been given so many other wonderful things already and it's more than she deserves.

But still, she wishes she could try it, if only to avoid letting Winter down.

[worthallthis]

He looks her up and down with mild confusion. "You can't taste? That's. Why not? You have a tongue. Does it not work?" He may have assumed that this body of hers is pretty much biological, since they're all made largely human when they come here.

[failedpromise]

She gestures at herself. "Made of light, buddy. I don't even have a digestive system." Cortana's more ghost than Human, not that she'd ever admit that. "Anything I try to eat just falls right through me."