sam wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wingedman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-03-21 01:40 pm
wingedman) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-03-21 01:40 pm
(no subject)
who: open!
what: a bunch of old soldiers hanging out
when: 3/22
where: the riverview bar and grill
warnings: none yet, will add as necessary
[The Riverview Bar and Grill is a pretty typical-looking bar-slash-restaurant. Sam's spoken with the owners about having a gathering here, and he's there early to push several tables into position so everybody can sit around and chat (though if anyone wants to break into small groups or be less socially inclined, there are still some smaller tables in the vicinity, or there's always the bar itself). A local sports match is showing on the tvs, of course, and there's a pool table, foosball, darts, and even a pinball machine tucked away in one corner for entertainment purposes.
Sam himself spots one round for the group, several pitchers of cold beer on the table once they're all gathered. After that, it's every man for himself - and, of course, the menu has all sorts of appetizers available, from everyone's favorite bar nachos to hot wings to...well, whatever Riverview offers in terms of specialties.]
what: a bunch of old soldiers hanging out
when: 3/22
where: the riverview bar and grill
warnings: none yet, will add as necessary
[The Riverview Bar and Grill is a pretty typical-looking bar-slash-restaurant. Sam's spoken with the owners about having a gathering here, and he's there early to push several tables into position so everybody can sit around and chat (though if anyone wants to break into small groups or be less socially inclined, there are still some smaller tables in the vicinity, or there's always the bar itself). A local sports match is showing on the tvs, of course, and there's a pool table, foosball, darts, and even a pinball machine tucked away in one corner for entertainment purposes.
Sam himself spots one round for the group, several pitchers of cold beer on the table once they're all gathered. After that, it's every man for himself - and, of course, the menu has all sorts of appetizers available, from everyone's favorite bar nachos to hot wings to...well, whatever Riverview offers in terms of specialties.]
iii
No. It's really not helping him figure it out. It's just making his fingers greasy.
Which is why he wipes them on John's jacket sleeve as he leans in to kiss the other man on the cheek.
no subject
The theft John can tolerate. Poe's cute, he can get away with it. The fingers on his jacket, however? That's a sin.
"You did not just do that." He ducks the kiss, putting a hand up in front of Poe's face. So he can get a mouthful of John's palm.
He grabs a napkin, make that several napkins, FROM THE NAPKIN HOLDER ON THE TABLE IN FRONT OF THEM, and thrusts them at Poe.
"Do you know what these are for? Do napkins exist in your galaxy, or is wiping your hands on other people a cultural thing? Do teeny tiny aliens lick your fingers clean?"
This is what happens when a man raised on a farm dates a man raised on a luxury ranch.
no subject
He takes the napkins, wiping each finger before dropping the used bits of paper on John's plate.
"You know pretty much everyone is an alien where I'm from, right?"
It took Poe a little while to realize exactly what people outside of his galaxy meant by the word alien. As far as he's concerned the term borders on entirely useless.
He picks up a pork rind and waves it under John's nose before attempting to feed it to him.
no subject
John watches the napkin fall from Poe's hand onto his plate, and for a moment, wonders what he did to deserve this, other than... everything a man can possibly do to earn karmic retribution for the rest of his miserable life.
He can't actually be mad about it. Poe's too damn cute, and what would be annoying coming from someone less charming, and attractive, is just charming. Aggravatingly charming. Something tells John that's a large part of Poe Dameron surviving this long.
"You're definitely an alien, from the planet 'Weird, but hot', sent to Riverview to test my damn patience."
Poe waves the pork rind beneath his nose, and John stares at it. He's never been the type of guy in a relationship to indulge in anything more than hand-holding and the occasional kissing in public. People are watching, probably, and they've already made something of a spectacle of themselves. That said, he's lucky to even have the opportunity to make an idiot of himself.
If people have a problem with it, they can leave.
So he snaps it out of Poe's fingers, all teeth, nearly taking Poe's fingers with it. There's a chomping sound effect, too. It's altogether a decent JAWS impersonation.
no subject
John isn't wrong about Poe's survival. Charm and charisma are their own kinds of weapons, ones he wields with unconscious skill.
"At least I'm not from a planet named dirt, unlike some people."
He retrieves a napkin, displaying it for John before he wipes his fingers again and then promptly ruins it by picking up two more pork rinds. He stuffs one in his mouth and offers the other to John.
He still hasn't decided if he likes them or not. But John is eating them, and John eats like a whisper bird, so it's more than worth the greasy fingers.
no subject
The fleeting thought, and silent, stealthy dip into insecurity, is enough to momentarily kill his appetite. He snubs the next rind with a childish turn of his head. Whisper birds are probably less of a pain in the ass.
"Besides, I'm as Lantean as I am Earthling. Water and dirt. Guess that makes me mud." He steals a long drink of Poe's beer, smirking over the glass.
no subject
"Mudling." He steals his beer back, taking a swig in spite of the fact that it's nowhere near as good as the home brews on Yavin. It tastes better simply for the fact that he's sharing it with John. "You'd better hurry up and eat some of your own food or I'm going to finish it off trying to decide if I like it or not."
no subject
"You can have it. A guy can only handle so much grease in one day." John picks up a napkin, wiping his hands off in that particular way. Between every finger, and knuckle to tip. For a man who has no problem getting his hands dirty on the job or in the field, he's fussy in day to day life.
"Another beer, on the other hand, I could do." A winning grin up at Poe. That's his cue to go get John another one.
no subject
He brings John back his beer and sets it on the table, sliding it over inexpertly and making it slosh a little.
"Order up."