we stand shoulder to shoulder (veteran's social)

[theydrewfirstblood]

Who: John Rambo (theydrewfirstblood) & The Pumpkin Hollow Veterans' Association
What: Leveling up veteran's poker night with a barbecue
When: post-Blight
Where: Baker Ranch
Warning(s): General warnings for John's canon: violence, police brutality, PTSD, torture, etc., and likely similar for many other veterans here, check for further warnings throughout

(NOTE: Treat this as a gathering, but I personally will be backtagging into this for the duration of September, so don't be a stranger!)

Poker Night is something John looks forward to every month, but he got it into his head that it could be fun to do a little more, so he talked to a few people, did a little extra work...

...then the damn Thatcher's Blight hit and everything went to absolute shit.

Fortunately, the whole thing's blown over now, and once he's sure everything around the farm is as clean as it's gonna get? John goes through his stores and decides he's got enough food and drink for all--and tacks up a notice on the bulletin board just below that for the regular poker night, with a date and time as well as his phone number and address.

VETERAN'S SOCIAL, BAKER RANCH--BBQ & DRINKS, POTLUCK OPTIONAL

The event starts a few hours before dusk. John's set up a ways from the house with some tables, chairs, and blankets for those who want to go full on picnic style. It wouldn't be a veteran's night without poker, so there's a game going at one of the tables while another holds plates of food--regular game coming off the grill, along with a few other pieces of meat he picked up for those who aren't fans of game.

And, because Co is around, there's no visible chicken on the grill. Ever the pragmatist, there's a couple casseroles of simple baked chicken on the table, alongside some sides John's put together or any offerings that come along as part of the optional potluck. There's not a lot of alcohol, but John's got the last bottle or two of his little dandelion wine experiment available, as well as a couple other things. Mostly it's water, tea, coffee--tamer offerings.

Speaking of the animals, John's turned loose the ones he treats as pets: Sam the rooster spends the whole night chasing after and trying to wrangle Co, who makes no bones about harassing newcomers for adulation. Those she knows, if they sit still too long, will end up with a happy chicken nesting in their lap...one that will remain quiet only so long as you offer the bare minimum of scritches and pets. Dare to ignore her, and angry clucking will ensue. John's mare, Helga, can also be seen grazing around the goings-on, shy but not unfriendly. If a hot breath puffs on the back of your neck, she's just curious--if you pet her, she'll swish her tail happily and move on.

There's also a newer member of the family, whose only just getting big enough to let socialize: Bao, a female cottontail rabbit whose still young, but no longer too much of a baby to keep isolated. Though she spends a good portion of the night in John's arms when he's not busy, she does hop around loose, sticking close to John and to Co, who can be found very rarely nesting in a patch of grass with Bao tucked against her feathery side, gently attempting to "preen" Bao despite her lack of feathers.

And while this is, ostensibly, the veteran's social, any of Baker Ranch's varying degrees of resident are invited to the party, so if there's new faces about? Relax, they don't bite--unless you have food, then watch your hands. They're probably teenagers, and they don't discriminate when it comes to their appetites.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

"Telescope," he says, a bit vaguely, "that's for ... looking at things far off, right?"

[spaghettification]

"Yes, exactly. When they're pointed at the stars and planets, they allow one to see more details, like the planets' moons, or the color of the stars."

[hate_gettin_older]

A pause, and a faint perplexed frown, as he looks at Siebren for the first time.

"Stars have got color? Thought they were all just, you know -- " He waves a hand at the sky. "Light. Like sparks."

[spaghettification]

"Are you familiar with how the color of a fire changes, depending on how hot it is, or what chemicals are burning? Stars are the same way, sort of. With more factors affecting what we see than just that. How fast they're moving and whether toward or away can also affect the light waves."

He gestures concepts with both hands as he speaks, bobbing enthusiastically mid-air.

[hate_gettin_older]

He might or might not catch the moment at which his new conversational partner clocks that he's floating, with a glance followed by a brief double take.

"Huh," he says aloud. "But if they're different colors, how come they all look the same?"

[spaghettification]

"Do they all?"

Siebren points to one that doesn't twinkle and has a particular red cast; one of the planets in this solar system.

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar squints upward, following the pointing finger.

"... Maybe a little different?" he hazards.

[spaghettification]

"And this is why the telescope would help. The difference is much clearer that way. Ah, next time...if our host welcomes me back."

Oh, he's sure Rambo will, but he's still getting caught on the blade of 'deserving'.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Sure he will," he echoes half the unspoken thought.

And then, with belated regard for manners: "I'm Edgar."

[spaghettification]

"Siebren. It's nice to meet you. How do you know John?"

[hate_gettin_older]

"Met him when I got here. He's ... we're friends."

Edgar isn't the type to worry too much about finding exactly the right word for the right thing, but friends feels simultaneously too strong and not strong enough for this ... whatever-it-is.

"And I work on the ranch, so I sort of live here now. 'S how come I'm here for the party."

[spaghettification]

"Ah, I see. He, uh. He invited me, even though I am not a veteran of any military."

Siebren feels like he needs to justify his presence, still.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah?" He grins crookedly. "Me neither. Guess he fuckin likes us or something."

[spaghettification]

"Verdomd if I know why." But he echoes Edgar's grin slowly, a flower coming to bloom.

[hate_gettin_older]

"So how d'you know him, then?"

Edgar leans back against the stair above the one he's sitting on, propping his elbows comfortably.

[spaghettification]

"I first met him at the potluck, but it was after the whole affair with the cultists that he decided he liked me or something. I was...affected deeply by the situation, and he noticed and cared about that. He made sure I was well, afterwards."

He's assuming Edgar knows about the cult meeting, even if he wasn't there.

[hate_gettin_older]

From the way Edgar sobers quickly when he mentions the cultists, it's a good guess he knows something.

"You were there too?"

[spaghettification]

Siebren nods quietly.

"The central figure of the cult's worship seemed to like me."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar presses his lips together for a moment.

"He told me what happened there. A bit."

[spaghettification]

"I can't tell you how it ended, myself. I wasn't...present, mentally, when it did. I was distracted."

Siebren shudders, glances away.

"It was bad. I'm sorry I brought it up."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Let's leave it, then."

One thing you learn, growing up in the Tail: when an older person doesn't want to talk about what happened before, you don't press.

"Glad he looked in on you, after."