Then they'll take you to Cloughprior and shove you in the ground (Mingle)

[notinflictthem]

CHARACTERS: Hawkeye and the Veteran’s Poker Club
DATE: March
LOCATION: Hawkeye’s clinic
SITUATION: Poker game (for veterans)
WARNINGS: Presumably discussion of conflict and ptsd

You need one more drop of poison and you'll dream of foreign lands

A notice goes up on the board, and Hawkeye sets up the clinic for the occasion. Obviously he’s not moving all his medical supplies out- at the back of his mind is always the possibility that something could happen that demands he put his doctor hat on again. Not choppers, but something.

But he sets up a table and chairs in the middle of the main room, with a stack of cards and some ‘chips’ (acorns, he went out and gathered some acorns, which he’s painted different colours). There’s a flask of his homemade gin, some finger food from the Oak and Iron, and he got a box of cigars for the occasion. Feels just like the conferences from home, only without sandwiches that move and Frank. So, y’know, infinitely better.

Prior to starting, while Hawkeye’s setting up, he’ll engage in some small talk with anyone who shows up early- which, they’ll all be military, it will probably be all of them.
“Ever played poker?”

Or

“Can I get you a drink?”

Or

“Can you grab that tray of implements for me?”

At the sick bed of Cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer

When everyone who’s arriving arrives, Hawk sets himself at the table, one of his surgical lights over top of the table to set the mood.

“Alright- this is poker, it’s a little game we like to play back on earth, because we like losing money. I’m gonna teach you five card draw, just to get us started. I’m going to deal each of you five cards. What you’re looking for is to have the highest hand at the end of the round, then you take the pot. Easy. Hands are ranked by how hard they are to do- if you get numbered cards in order and they’re all the same suit, that’s a straight flush. Then we go four of a kind, which is just that- four of the same number. Full house is if you have three of the same number and a pair of a different numbers in the same hand. Flush is if you have all your cards in the same suit. Then straight, which is by number order but not the same suit, three of a kind, two pair, one pair, and then if you have absolutely nothing we score it by your highest card.”

Hawkeye clears his throat, takes a sip of gin.

“I'll deal to start with, we all bet based on our hands and how confident we are that we’ll have the highest ranking hand, then we discard any cards we want and redraw back up to five. Then we place our final bets, and reveal our hands. You get lost at any point, just ask. Questions?”

And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair

Shittalking, chewing the fat, commiseration, and general socializing with Hawkeye during games goes under this header. Tls for your characters welcome in the comments.

Comments

[lightconductor]

"I fear so," Watson says, amiably. He looks at her with curiosity that she knows his name (and so casually, so familiarly), but also with an unrecognising smile. "I never was any good at cards. I beg your pardon, but have we met? Though I cannot believe I would forget so charming and lovely a woman."

[decohere]

Ah, no, this reminds her of a very specific incident where she stumbled into one of Dr. Watson's memories, at a waterfall. He hadn't known who she was, she didn't have an understanding yet of what was going on, and had outed his best friend for a staged death...

Ava doesn't say any of that, though her expression seems to go on a wild journey before she settles right back on a soft smile of acceptance. This isn't the version of the man she knew, no. But he's still a man she knew and respected.

"Oh, no. Sorry. Just a fan of your books. You're a rather inspiring author."

[lightconductor]

"My books?"

He's startled out of watching her face go through that wild journey (not at all sure how to interpret that) and then his face breaks into a faintly shy but pleased smile. "I didn't think anyone here knew anything about my books," Watson says. "You really know them?"

Oh, if this is a misunderstanding and she actually means some other John Watson's books, he's going to be so crushed.

[decohere]

"Of course. They're quite popular in my world, even in 2018. The adventures of you and your detective friend," Ava thinks he deserves to know how beloved his writing is. If any man deserves to have his ego stroked.

"Did you embellish those stories any? Sometimes they felt so shocking to be true."

[lightconductor]

"People still read my work, more than a century in the future?"

Baffling. Flattering, but baffling all the same. Watson is clearly flustered, but he takes a deep breath and rallies. "I embellished less than you might think," he says. "Only what is necessary to obscure sensitive details and perhaps allow for a cohesive tale."

That is his story and he is sticking to it.

[decohere]

"Oh yes, there's even been some film adaptations of your works. And one," Ava grins, because she knows his reaction last time she shared this info, "where you and Sherlock are reimagined as little cartoon mice. It's quite cute."

[lightconductor]

"Little--"

Watson opens his mouth, sputters a little, and then closes it again. He covers his face, and frowns, and lets out a long sigh.

"No, you must be having me on," he protests. "This is all some elaborate joke at my expense, surely."

[decohere]

"Ah, no no. It was very good, I promise. I loved it as a child. It was made by a company that takes all sorts of famous stories, fairy tales and the like. And creates more family friendly versions. It's not meant as a mockery," she promises. Fully unaware that she's a Disney property too.

[lightconductor]

Watson just stares at her for a moment, then sighs.

"I will have to take your word on that," he says. "A mouse, really. Do I look anything like a mouse?" He huffs a little, but there's no serious hurt in it; it doesn't seem very dignified, but entertaining children is noble enough.

[decohere]

At the clearly rhetorical question, Ava tilts her head, rubs her chin in thought. "Hmm..."

Scrutinizes!

"Nah. I'd say more like an English spaniel," she playfully responds.

[lightconductor]

"A spaniel," he sighs, immensely long-suffering. "Well, at least you went with a good sporting dog rather than a little lap spaniel. I would've thought I was more of a large terrier, surely."

[Not here, peanut gallery]

[notinflictthem]

Across the table, "I thought you were a seal, John?"

[decohere]

"The mustache is more walrus..."

[decohere]

"I couldn't tell you a bloodhound from a boxer, honestly. Didn't grow up with pets. But... I mean it all in good fun."

[lightconductor]

He smiles, reassuringly.

"Oh, I can take some ribbing at my expense, have no fear. Though perhaps I should turn the question on you and ask you what animal you most resemble?"

[decohere]

"Ah, my dear Dr. Waston. That's an easy one. I turn into an octopus."

[lightconductor]

Blink.

"I beg your pardon? Oh, you aren't joking, are you." Watson exhales; at one point he would have objected to this strenuously, but it's been an eventful few months. He's seen a lot.

[decohere]

"Actually did start as a joke. Afraid I tempted fate. Or the Erda, it was called. One of those be careful what you wish for situations..."

[not here-ish]

[be_seeing_you]

From across the room, "That's how I got these wings as well. We really should have known better."

[lightconductor]

Watson looks at her, and then glances at Number 6 with his eyebrows raised.

"Hm. I suppose there could be worse things," he says, uncertainly.

[decohere]

"I offered to chop them off for him, when they first sprung out... but hopefully such surprises are kept to a minimum in this world..." Ava trails off thoughtfully.

"You haven't heard of such strange happenings here?" she's certainly hopeful.

[lightconductor]

"Hrm. That would be a terrible amputation to attempt," Watson says, thoughtfully. "Probably best you did not. And no, I have not heard of any such thing here. Well." He lets out a small, wry laugh. "We did have a sort of shared dream of other versions of ourselves, and that other version of me certainly was, at times, a seal, but that was temporary."

He did secretly enjoy being a selkie, just a little.

[decohere]

"Oh!" A surprised laugh now that the reference has context. "I thought he meant like the navy kind. Not an actual!"

[lightconductor]

"Ah, no, I'm afraid I was army in any case." Watson chuckles. "The mockery might be harder to bear if I hadn't been the only one so afflicted."

[decohere]

"I feel like such a fake fan, I had known that," Ava looks slightly embarrassed, but amused. "But it sounds so absurd. Were you clapping about for fish?" Ava's never seen a real seal. Her only idea of it is the depiction of them doing balancing tricks on balls like some sort of circus act.