"Hawkeye" Pierce (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notinflictthem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2024-03-16 08:47 am
notinflictthem) wrote in ph_logs2024-03-16 08:47 am
Then they'll take you to Cloughprior and shove you in the ground (Mingle)
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
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?”
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?”
Shittalking, chewing the fat, commiseration, and general socializing with Hawkeye during games goes under this header. Tls for your characters welcome in the comments.
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.
no subject
Very suddenly, after many years, he feels useful again.
“… I am very, very sorry for your loss,” he says, gentle as a veil. “I think that’s a wonderful way to honor her, and I am blessed to be able to help. We’d have to muster up the materials, of course, but that’s a very small matter. Did you have a date in mind?”
no subject
That he can do this lances something in his chest that hurts—but it’s almost good, the way it makes his eyes burn and his gut unclench. At the same time it’s hell, because she’s gone because he cared for her—she died because of him and no memorial will ever make that right.
Taking a deep breath, John shakes his head.
“No, I uhm…I’ll think it over. Maybe find some stuff to read at the service, don’t think they got bibles here. I—thanks, Father. Seriously.”
no subject
"Take your time. It's a heavy thing; no one can blame you for making sure you're doing it right. Although I think you'll find it's surprisingly difficult to do it 'wrong.'"
no subject
He has no idea what his part might have been in what happened to him, to Co--if any. That's something he's keeping on the table: that Trautman had no idea they were gonna leave him there.
It makes missing the only thing he has left even close to a friend back home harder than it has to be. Still, John's smile is genuine as he takes a breath to compose himself again.
"Thanks, Father. Means a lot to me--if you ever need anything, just let me know." he replies, then his smile flicks a little brighter.
"Beyond sayin' a rosary or somethin'. I'll do that anyway--don't got one, but I got fingers. They should work just fine." he quips.