Well, let's make this official.

[tenyeargambit]

CHARACTERS: Clive Dove and hopefully various other people, otherwise this log is a lonely log.
LOCATION: One of the lounges in the Passenger Quarters.
WARNINGS: Probable puzzles at some point. Canon hazard plus owning a big book of puzzles.
SUMMARY: It's the probable prelude to a Poker/Go Fish/Blackjack/War/etc night with some tacos.
NOTES: I'm just gonna put it up here 'stead of at the bottom. Brackets and prose are both awesome, and you know what else I'm fond of? Threadjacking and three person threads. (Though ask the other person before cutting in, but assume this is my cart blanche way of saying I'm good with it.)


He knew, from experience, that he tended to think best while multitasking, that his greatest bursts of inspiration tended to come while he was preoccupied musing about clockwork and gears, brooding over the wording of an article, or just contemplating a silly riddle.

The Tranquility lacked pretty much every last one of Clive's usual distractions. (It had a number of different distractions to make up for it, he supposed, but that didn't help if the 'distractions' were what he wanted to be distracted from.) What he had to work with: matches and a deck of cards.

The former was of little use in this regard. And so it was that Clive Dove was sitting in one of the lounges and attempting to shuffle with one hand. It beat trying to build a card castle. He knew the fundamentals, it was just proving to be more difficult than he-...

Ah. Clive made a slight noise of surprise and annoyance (not a scream or anything, but reasonably audible), an 'ah' or 'oh' as the cards spilled forth, probably around the same time someone was passing by, as the cards (again) slipped out of his hand and he had a round of 52 pick-up to play.

Comments

[starstripedhero.livejournal.com]

America watched Asato pat his hand, hit it, whatever. He sort of gave Asato a flat stare, and then he finally got it. Good job. You passed brofist orientation; let him show you something else.

"Hahaha! You got it, man. Check it, if you do this--" He pounds the side of his fist against his hand, "--it makes a turkey! Gobblegobblegobble! It's like if a brofist and a high five had a baby."

He then puts his attention on Clive. America had no idea what etiquette was or social skills for that matter. His lips purse.

"Easy! He's playing 52 pick up and being British, duh! I always hated that game; but I always make England play it whenever we have a deck of cards. It drives him shitty insane, haha."

[walksonrooftops]

Asato just gave an excited little "Ah!" at that. Easily entertained? Definitely. He was still a child at heart, after all.

"52 pick up? British?" Keeping his eyes on the cards, he leaned down a little, then cast his glance back up to Clive. It sounded less threatening than magic, so that was a start. Maybe it was just another one of those human things he needed to learn to help him integrate.

"Is that true?"

Hastily half-assed, so please accept my apologies in advance.

[tenyeargambit]

His lips pursed right back at America. Purse-off!

He turned back towards Asato. "Not by choice, but yes," he said with a bit of a (forced) smile, though the American annoyed him...no sense of etiquette or social skills. "You could say that I am."

[walksonrooftops]

"That you're...British, right?" Asato appeared to be pretty interested regardless, and with America around to help him out he felt bolder than he usually would. This way, he could ask more, and that was the entire point of branching out to speak with the humans--to ask, and to learn. To improve himself with little tidbits of knowledge whenever possible.

"So what kind of things do you do with those cards?"