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

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

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.))

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

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

→ a

[Ever since humans stepped out of the garden, they've been playing games, with whatever they could get their hands on. Sticks, rocks, bones. And cards, eventually. A million different variations of symbols on pieces of paper, all sorts of patterns and rules and games.

And Crowley's been playing alongside them for just as long.

Not having his powers takes away an advantage, but experience is still experience. He'll occasionally need a refresher on the rules of a particular game, and isn't infallible, by any means. Anything with an element of bluffing, though, is where he does well. Reading people is easy enough, and for anyone that doesn't know him well, he presents a fairly inscrutable façade, especially with the sunglasses (an eye condition, he'll explain to anyone that asks).

He's not a total dick about it, at least. Winning is great, but he knows the point of a game is to have fun. He might even offer a pointer or two to anyone that seems to be having an especially hard time of it.]

You're making it too obvious. You only start counting your chips when you've got a good hand.

→ b

[Beer is all well and good, but it's not Crowley's preferred alcohol of choice.

Which is why he brought a bottle of scotch whiskey and a few handful of ingredients with him, both as a vague attempt at hospitality, and so he could make himself a cocktail or two during the evening.

The latter is more important, really, and he'll end up in the kitchen a handful of times, mixing sugar, bitters, and whiskey in a glass and trying to decide whether he can be arsed to fuss about with the 'orange peel' part of the process.

He looks up when someone else wanders in, and tips his head towards an empty glass.]

Want one? Offer's only good for the next thirty seconds.

[Otherwise he's going to get bored and move on.]

→ wildcard

[Whatever strikes your fancy, I'm easy.]

Edited 2022-04-23 03:57 (UTC)

I. Arrival

Winter looks a little apprehensive, kind of hovering outside the door in the hall. He wasn't specifically invited to this. Posters on walls really don't count as an invitation, he thinks. But he knows how to play cards. And he knows George and Nick, both. So he came, and now he's second-guessing himself, because he only sort of knows George and Nick.

He did bring something. It's not a thing most people would think to bring to a poker night, but he brought it anyway, because it's one of the few things he knows how to make that's not overkill or likely to keep people up all night. So he is hovering outside with a very big thermos full of... hot cocoa. Yeah.

Somebody tell him he can come in before it gets cold.

II. Cards

Winter is inordinately good at cards. He can keep track of the deck and people's discards in his head, and make an educated guess as to whether it's likely he'll get certain cards based on what he's seen so far. He can read faces and bodies like he's spent seventy years trying to appease cruel and capricious handlers. And his poker face is impeccable.

He lays down a royal straight, relatively confident he'll take this pot, with a perfectly emotionless face.

III. Mingling

Winter is, however, much less apt at socializing. He kind of loiters around the edges whenever he's not playing cards, holding a mug of the hot cocoa he brought, watching people with a too-intent expression.

He's trying to learn why people do things. So he can get better at being a person. That requires watching them. That means he's staring at you and has been for like three minutes, now, expression like someone who is trying to memorize whatever it is you're doing. Sorry.

[Winter is watching with something like fascination at all the things going into that drink. He doesn't ask for one-- he's still sort of operating on the idea that drugs and alcohols won't affect him, even if his serum is no longer particularly active-- but he does ask,]

Why is it so complicated?

Ade's having a pretty good evening, all things considered. It's been a while since he was at a proper social function—decades if you count the time spent in cryo-sleep—but somehow, he's managed to avoid embarrassing himself thus far and has been absolutely cleaning house at cards. Turns out, the ability to literally smell nervousness, fear, and excitement is a useful skill when it comes to gambling. Ade's been calling bluffs all evening.

He's stepped away for some fresh air, a cold beer in his hand mostly just for nostalgia's sake; the c'nataat in his blood gives him immunity to all poisons, recreational ones included. He's taking a sip when he spots the figure at the door. The first thing Ade notices about the man is the thermos in his hands. Second, that one of those hands is made of metal. And finally, as Ade steps towards the door to welcome him in, that the acid scent of human anxiety hangs heavily around him.

Ade's guessing that the other man hadn't expected so many people and is having second thoughts. He stops a respectful distance away, his expression open and amicable.

"Hi," he says. "Are you here for cards?"

I. Arrival

A party was not normally Senku's idea of a good time but he was suddenly alone in a strange place and he needed to meet the people around him that he was expected to work with. Sounded like a lot of work to him, but that was neither here nor there.

A community event was not unfamiliar. He'd attended many over the years, and was used to some level of interaction. Cards was fun, on top of that.

He had in his hands a tupperware container, not for his benefit but to offer the hosts. He'd picked up on some social norms over the years. Also cooking had been relaxing. "I brought mochi. It's just filled with fruit though."

II. Card Shark

Senku was definitely a card shark, and while he could cheat rather blatantly if he wanted to, and with the right opponent he definitely would, he actually wasn't cheating.

Well, outside of card counting, but he couldn't help that. His memory just worked that way, it made it difficult to forget what cards had already been discarded and statistics seemed to be helping him.

He could probably be called out, or even better if someone wanted to cheat against him he'd definitely enjoy the challenge.

III. Hanging Out

If not at the card table, Senku might be more in a corner with snacks and a beer. He wasn't drinking heavily which was good for their hosts, probably, but sipping at the same one he'd gotten since he came in.

A bowl of chips mixed with popcorn and beer was good enough for him. He just was not the most outgoing person. He was fine once he got going, but he tended to flirt with the edges of groups and was fine with that.

IV. Fresh Air

Eventually, it became too much to be in the party and he needed to catch his breath and centre himself. It was a little worse without his buffer around.

Asagiri Gen would've been proud he was making an effort.

He glanced back at the door and away and considered whether or not he should just go at that point.

V. Wildcard

[Senku is available for just about anything here! Hit him up.]

Edited 2022-04-23 15:28 (UTC)

"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."

[Look, Martin is doing his best here. He's not necessarily awful at cards depending on the game- he's got a great poker face when he really tries at it- but if he's going to look inconspicuous, he has to lose a few first. At least he doesn't look like he's going to lose the shirt off his back.]

I count them every hand! That's how you can't tell. Or, or maybe they're all good hands.

[Martin, no.]

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."

Better enjoy that immunity while it lasts, Ade. Cuz it won't unless you plan on scaring people regularly. Winter hasn't realized that his own drug resistance is gone too, but then, he hasn't tried drinking any alcohol since he stopped feeding the Stranger, either.

Winter watches Ade approach out of the corner of his eye, not making anything remotely like eye contact. There's a slight nod; he is indeed here for the cards. "There was a sign posted," he says, voice flat and largely uninflected, but still seeming a little bit uncertain.

The man's demeanor is unusual—monotone, unsmiling, avoiding eye contact—but he's hardly the strangest person Ade's encountered since stepping in the door. "You're in the right place," Ade says, stepping back to make room. "There's a table for the drinks and snacks; I'll show you."

It's not Ade's party, but it's in his nature to be helpful—and the man at the door seems like someone who likely needs help at this kind of function. Ade glances back as he leads him inside, nodding at the thermos in his hands. "What'd you bring?"

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?"

Is that, like, a 'know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em' kind of a deal?

[Malcolm is interested in poker more as an intellectual exercise in psychological warfare than anything else.]

...How much are the blue ones, again? [He holds one up.]

Malcolm flops against the wall next to Winter and gestures to his cup. "Is that cocoa? Is there any more?" he asks.

Malcolm steps out into the night air just to get a lungful of it, but he spots Senku there.

"Are you leaving? I thought you were winning."

[If he didn't know that Winter was relatively harmless, he might be more worried about the close attention, but he doesn't give it much thought as he splashes a good amount of bitters over a crushed up sugar cube.]

'Cause you've gotta follow a specific order or it all won't come together right. Plenty of cocktails you can just toss together, but the bitters go in first to help melt the sugar a bit.

[Martin is doing his best and we're all proud of him.]

Didn't you have all of two jacks a couple rounds back?

[He's so rude, but he's mostly teasing. Martin can probably take it.]

More like 'can't read my poker face' sort of thing.

[Old man makes reference to Lady Gaga song, eight dead, eleven injured.]

They're worth ten, or would be if we were playing for proper money.

[He's good at gambling, but when funds are limited, he's not going to risk them on a silly game.]

I. Arrival (Neal and Malcolm)

Neal knows all about George and Malcolm's day out. His reaction to the fact that Neal and Malcolm are a couple, and open about it. He's sad for George, really--sad and sympathetic. He'll keep both those things to himself in everything but attitude.

Still, on their way over, Neal suggests to Malcolm that they keep their usual physicality low-key. As though Neal himself doesn't instigate more than half the time. He's got a basket of cheap bottled wine on one arm, and he's letting Malcolm carry the tupperware containers of way-too-fancy-for-poker-night hors d'oeuvres. There's a little bit of everything, from a fish and cracker arrangement to vegan 'sushi.'

He's never going to attend a party without bringing a vegetarian or vegan option. (He misses Abby. A lot.)

Right before they knock, Neal leans over and gives Malcolm a kiss on the temple. "Just because I'm not holding your hand all night doesn't mean I don't want to," he murmurs. He gives Malcolm one more little kiss and raps smartly on the door.

They mingle after arrival, setting up their offerings and seeing who else is there. Close to each other, but not like... glued to each other. They're super casual. It's fine.

II. He's Not a Shark He's Just Good At This Okay

Neal loves cards. All kinds of gambling games, really--he's played, fairly or unfairly, just about every game you can bet money on, from backgammon to mancala to traditional cards. Poker, of course, is a favorite.

He's swept the table for the third time in a row when he decides to take a break, excusing himself with a wink and a grin at one of his surlier table-mates. He can't help himself. Sure, it's not as posh as the poker games he's used to crashing, but it's still much more his element than most of what happens in this place.

He goes over to the a kitchen counter and several bottles of cheap wine he brought along, since his apartment is so close by, scrutinizing his own selections with a critical eye before he picks a red that hasn't been opened yet.

It's a twist top.

Sigh. Such is life. (As though he didn't bring it.)

III. Solo Wandering/Card Tricks

When Malcolm is comfortably established with a friend, Neal circulates the room a little more on his own, looking for new faces to introduce himself to and familiar ones to chat with. If he knows you--or doesn't--he's very likely to approach with an appropriately cheesy pick-up line at the ready. (It's clear the cheesiness, and the related vibe of 'I'm not hitting on you, I promise,' are very intentional.)

At some point, during a break in the game, Neal takes up one of the decks of cards and starts performing card tricks, both sleight-of-hand and literal 'tricks' that involve building castles or hitting targets with a carefully flicked queen of hearts.

He can't help himself. He's dramatic.

IV. Late/Outside

At some point, like several others present, he needs a people break. He loves people. He absolutely does. He loves being around them, loves talking to them, loves getting them to smile and laugh and relax. He's also--even after several months of close living--not really used to it any more. Not on this intimate a level. It's more tiring than it ever used to be. So here he is, out in the hall, or on the patio, or even up on the roof for a few minutes. Gathering his thoughts and wits to return to the front lines of sociability.

So ten bragging rights. [He stacks it neatly on top of the others.] Do you play a lot of poker?

Malcolm clutches the stack of tupperware tightly, careful not to tip it when he leans his cheek up into that kiss.

“I’ve never been invited to a poker night before,” he confesses.

Senku offered a bit of a smile when he was spoken to.

"I was." He chuckled, he had some small change to prove it. "Thinking about it...but I suppose I don't have to. Either way, I needed the break."

1. Arrival

Jaeger is doing his best to be social and friendly with the people around him, considering that at this point they're more than co-workers. They're all stuck in this situation together, and fostering a sense of trust and comfort, well, that's important if they're going to be relying on each other for their lives.

So the big man is present at the party, with a grocery store fruit tray in hand and dressed in as casual a look as he ever manages: jeans, long-sleeved work shirt, boots. The collar of his shirt doesn't quite come up high enough to cover the old, pale scar around his neck, but...well, they're all friends here, right?

He's quick to offer a nod of greeting to familiar faces, and new faces will get a moment of consideration, of sizing-up with faded blue-gray eyes, before a polite, "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met? Orientation aside, I mean."

2. At the Table

Jaeger is, under most conditions, a good card player. He's thoughtful, meticulous, and quick to read the tells of those at the table around him. However, there's no supernatural advantage there, just the occasional wise moves on a good hand.

On the other hand, though, he knows when he's swimming with sharks. And he's amiable enough about it when his chips are gone, content to sit back from the table and take a break when luck has been a little less than favorable for him. He's keeping with his usual habit of nursing a couple of beers over the course of the evening, keeping his head clear, but he's comfortable with it, content to absorb the company in his own quiet way.

3. Outside/After the Party

Jaeger doesn't have far to go to get home, being in the next apartment over from George and Nick's. But for a little while both during and after the event, he can be found leaning against the wall outside, just taking in the fresh air and keeping alert eyes on the surroundings. He's got a flashlight with him, the kind of heavy steel Maglight that could deliver a beating in a pinch, and he paces slowly outside the apartment with the deliberate step of someone used to patrolling.

Just making sure everything is okay, and that everyone gets to where they're going safely.

Edited 2022-04-24 23:13 (UTC)

[Jaeger has been nursing beer for the evening, keeping himself clear-headed and alert, but the offer of something more refined is a welcome one. He only pauses for a moment, sizing up Crowley curiously before he gives a nod.]

I'd love one, if you don't mind. Thank you.

[His voice is low, rough, raspy with old damage, but his words are thoughtful and proper. He's a big man, well over six feet, but he lingers back from Crowley's space, mindful not to intrude.]

I don't think we've met, formally. Andrew Jaeger.

[Because seeing each other across the room at orienation doesn't really count.]

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.

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Page 1 of 23

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

George OTA

crowley | ota

Bucky/Winter | MCU

b

i

Senku Ishigami | OTA

2. Card Sharks in the Waters?

a!

3!

no subject

no subject

2.

a

iii

iv

no subject

no subject

no subject

Neal Caffrey (and Malcolm Bright) || OTA || threadjacks welcome

no subject

I.

no subject

Andrew Jaeger | OTA (will match brackets or prose)

B

1.