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

[blindwatchersees]

He takes another sip.

“Like for like. Parental abandonment, social isolation, vampirism, the responsibility of fighting an army’s front with my own two hands, and witnessing one of my closest friends be overwritten by a god.”

Well, okay, Martin wasn’t overwritten, but this collection of memories doesn’t know that.

[spaghettification]

"Well. Fuck."

Look, there's nothing really to say to that.

[blindwatchersees]

"Indeed. And I'm getting the impression that you're not unfamiliar with the notion of being a walking weapon. Well, perhaps not literally walking..."

[spaghettification]

"No, not in the least. I was a human tank."

...and one in the meta, too!

[blindwatchersees]

"They called me the Figment Blade. I had a talent for cutting my enemies down before they even knew I was there."

[spaghettification]

"Subject Sigma. Or just Sigma, in the worst times. Yours sounds cooler."

He chuckles mildly.

[blindwatchersees]

“I will admit, I do get a certain twisted sense of pride from it. Sigma… I don’t believe I understand the significance of the term.”

[spaghettification]

"It is a symbol in equations for the value of a sum. It is also a letter in the language of philosophers that makes the same sound as the first letter of my name. Their language is often used by mathematicians, though the later language of their conquerors is eerily similar to the language of demons, in this world."

[blindwatchersees]

He raises an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, I've heard about these demons. Apparently they're something different from the beings known as Daedra in my world, often misascribed as 'demons.' You know, no one is really sure where that term even came from."

Beat.

"So, what does that make you? A mathematician? A philosopher? I suppose the two aren't mutually exclusive."

[spaghettification]

"You're from the same world as Drelasa, then. Have you met her?" Heart-eyes, motherfucker. Guess who's been listening and keeping up with the terminology?

"As for me, ah, I am a scientist on the crunchier end, one whose work often looks like mathematics on paper. I'm an astrophysicist."

[blindwatchersees]

"I believe I've heard the name. I can assure you we haven't met personally, of course. I haven't really socialized with anyone aside from John Rambo before now."

[spaghettification]

"Perhaps you should. The vampirism may limit you to nighttime engagements, but I don't mind keeping the library open late for you, for example."

There's a sheepish, hopeful little smile.

Siebren is absolutely not thinking about the possibilities of vampirism, either. Nope, no thoughts about teeth at his neck or wrist, sinking in deeply...

[blindwatchersees]

"A library, you say? Well, I certainly wouldn't turn down such an offer. I'm something of a scholar myself." He smiles a little, fangs protruding ever so slightly.

[spaghettification]

"Oh? What's your field of study?" Siebren's eyes are locked on those tiny fangtips, rather than making proper eye contact.

[blindwatchersees]

"I study illusion magic, general spellcraft, and Daedrology. Though really, I suppose I have an appetite for any tidbit of lesser-known fact."

Before he was the faithful champion of Sheogorath, Macaelius was super into Hermaeus Mora worship. Secretly, of course.

[spaghettification]

"I could point you to appropriate sections for local writings on spellwork and magical illusions. It's not a subject I understand much of, I'm afraid, but. I haven't given it much focus, either."

The ghost of Nyalathotep sends a shiver down Siebren's spine, though. He'd hate for his new friend(???!?) to accidentally get tangled up in cult shit, in the pursuit of the lesser known.

[blindwatchersees]

"Perhaps, then, we could exchange notes. I am not especially well-versed in astrophysics, but I don't imagine I'd have anything to lose by learning a little. And you seem, I think, to have some small interest in Daedrology?"

[spaghettification]

"Well, there's only one Daedra I know of on the island who could be studied. And he defies consistency and avoids being pinned down to one truth. But I would be glad to learn more, about you and your world."

He does not consciously intend this as flirtation.

[blindwatchersees]

He raises an eyebrow.

"You mentioned already that there is someone else here from my world. You didn't mention there was also a Daedroth."

[spaghettification]

"The Daedroth isn't just a person, he's...well, a lot. You're familiar with Sheogorath? Sometimes he's butterflies, though. Or an old man who grins like he has a crypto scam to run."

[blindwatchersees]

His eyes widen slightly.

"Sheogorath. Yes. I'm well-familiar with that name. The last time I had any interaction with him, he made burning dogs rain from the sky."

[spaghettification]

"It probably amused him at the time."

Look, Siebren's pretty much a Sheo fan at this time.

[blindwatchersees]

"It was in a town called Border Watch. The inhabitants spent their entire lives thinking that the end of the world was nigh, watching and waiting for the signs of something they called 'the Keshara Prophecy.' Well, Sheogorath decided he wanted to have a little fun with the superstitious folk, and asked that I help him carrying out the signs the prophecy ascribed to the end of the world. It wasn't difficult- a little theft, a little cheese, and a little bit of magic on his part. I'm not really sure why I went along with it. Well, alright, I suppose I do, but I'm not sure why I thought a mad god could give me what I wanted."

[spaghettification]

"What did he give you, for your help, then?"

Siebren's fascinated to hear a story of yet another aspect of Sheo and his shenanigans.

[blindwatchersees]

"Have you ever heard of the artifact called 'The Wabbajack?'"