"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
His expression shifts, soft with affection and shadowed with sorrow at the same time as he thinks of Sam. At least things seem better...but it still hurts that he doesn't think they can ever be more than that.
"Got another from a world where dead people can reach right out and grab you." he continues. "Anyway, uh--war's over back home. It's 1985, and when I got back here the second time I was sort of on a furlough. Black ops--assumption, they didn't tell me at the time, but I got hung out to dry. S' how I died...they said I'd be up for a pardon if I finished the mission."
no subject
We have the authority to do as we please with you... You, and the girl. Leon had been more focused on Sherry's safety than his own at the time, but at the end of the day the strong implication for him had been jail time or worse. Seems to him like John's story is a lot like how his could've ended up if the chips had fallen slightly differently.
He sighs.
"Sorry to hear that. 'Least we both get another chance at it though, right? If not back home yet, then here."
no subject
He has to believe that. Hearing Trautman on the radio when they forced him onto the radio...
He shakes it off and smiles slightly at Leon.
"You're not wrong 'bout that second chance here. Truth is, I like this place." John admits. "Missed it...didn't realize how damn much 'till I got back and all the memories came back full force."
no subject
"Anyway. Can't say I blame you. People are nice here, about all sorts of things I'm not used to people being so nice about." Access to food, lodging, medicine. Differences in faith. Gender and sexuality. Probably other things Leon just isn't in as much of a position to notice. "I was telling Hawkeye that being here has sort of felt like a vacation, in a weird way. Even with the stars falling out of the sky and attacking people at night."
Better than some of the horseshit he has to put up with back home, that's for sure.
no subject
"Yeah--I was singin' the same song when I first met him 'round the time I got here." John admits. "Found out people here got good attitudes and open minds about...a lot of things they don't back home."
He thinks of Hawkeye's flirting--and of Sam, with a painful stab of longing.
It only occurs to him to ask then, with a curious tilt of his head.
"Say, uh--I'm from '85, I know Hawk's from the '50s, what year is it where you came from?"
no subject
He glances over at Ari as he says it - not having picked up on Gaeta being a spacer just yet. It helps with the surreal feeling that he hasn't really had the chance to talk to any of the future folk about, say, world history or anything. Mostly he's just had a crisis about lead pipes and asbestos with Bart.