Happy Birthday//Welcome Home!

[alittlehinky]

The garden is flourishing, a riot of blooms at one end, plants heavy with fruit at the other. The chickens are in place, over two dozen of them in an oversized coop at one end of the property. The barn is unfinished, but the moonshining shed is massive, shiny and new, with locks on the doors and storm shutters on the windows, in case of another winter like the last.

The house is not huge, a sturdy two-bedroom place built with thick stone walls. It contains single floor for living, a small attic, and a deep split-level cellar. The furniture has been moved in; it's all secondhand but repaired and refinished.

By Cricket's own standards, the place is practically a palace. He never dreamed he would own so much land--granted, this is the Nexus so the topography and acreage may fluctuate, his claim may be challenged legally, whatever--it belongs to him right now, he bought it with money he earned, and he's got the living space upon it arranged to his liking.

It's sunset, and there are fairy lights strung up on the porch and in the yard, tables with food and moonshine set out, and beneath the treeline off to the right of the house there are fireflies flickering. There's a radio playing music, and lots of blankets spread on the grass for sitting or watching the stars. It's meant to be a low-key affair, but enough people wanted to see Cricket's place he felt like a party was the right idea. A small one. A quiet one.

(This is the Nexus, and there are Lokis. There is always a chance small and quiet may not stay small and quiet.)

The cake, in case anyone wants to know, is vanilla with blackberry filling. There's no writing on it, but it's the centerpiece of the food table. Cricket's not in the habit of demanding attention on his birthday, but...blackberry cake.

[[ETA: Please feel free to assume if your character knows Cricket they were invited via text or face-to-face discussion. If your character doesn't know Cricket personally but you want them to drop in, feel free to PM me and we'll figure out a reason to get them there.]

Comments

[alittlehinky]

"There's a couple," Cricket says. "But the one I used was recommended to me by Marie. Raccoon. Goes by Mr. Nook. Hell of a stand-up guy. I don't know what kinda world he comes from, but he gets the job done, that's for sure. I'll give you his card."

Once things are set down, Cricket carefully opens the package--and lights up like a Christmas tree. "Aw, Palmer, these are great! And I only ever listened to MP3s so far. I mean...since leavin' home."

Obviously, there were neither MP3s nor CDs in 1931. "This is great, I always need music to listen to while I'm workin'. What's your favorite here?"

[alittlehinky]

He smiles at Pamela. "Guess you don't need a cup or a plate to enjoy the air. I should've started the party an hour earlier, maybe, so you could see the sunlight slant through the woods too."

The garden is on the south side of the house, of course, as is the chicken coop. Best to catch the early rays.

"The cake is vegetarian," he adds with a smile. "Only there's milk and butter in it. No eggs, but it ain't vegan. Anyway, I know Harley would come and I wanted her to have fun. The hummus is real good, I promise."

And there's enough cake for Harley to have seconds and thirds if she wants, as far as Cricket's concerned. "Y'all wanna look at the garden? Or the woods? The blackberry and thimbleberry bushes are in full bloom in the woods."

[alittlehinky]

"I wish 'em all the best, but I understand they're busy," Cricket nods agreeably. They were invited, but he doesn't really know McReady or Van Wall that well, and he's not upset they couldn't make it. "You wanna take a jar of moonshine for 'em, I got plenty. And if there's cake left after the party I'll send a piece or two with you for 'em."

It's a big cake, but then there are a lot of people showing up, and some might be the hungry kind.

"Yeah! I do still wanna go fishin'. And I think Mr. Murdock--Matt, I mean, have you met him? I think he wanted to come too. He ain't been before."

He opens the package of books carefully and beams at he reads the titles. "Did you put a bookplate on any of 'em, saying they're from you? If not I'll get you to write me one later. I'll remember who they're from but it's nice to have a bookplate in case guests look at 'em."

[sweetcandygirl]

Pamela smiles as Cricket talks about the efforts he made for her, and Harley. She extends a hand towards him, growing a flower for him. And holds it out to him. "Sweet boy."

"That sounds yummy, Cricket. I love milk. And butter. Deep fried cheese sticks are the best thing ever." Harley winks at him.

"Oh! Oh! The woods! Then the garden." Harley bounces.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Matt can absolutely hear the little dog-like critter just fine, having assumed that's what she was, given prior experience. She certainly sounds indistinguishable from one, other than the sounds she's making. At least he won't trip over her, even if she does forget to steer clear of his ankles.

He finds Cricket's elbow effortlessly, a gesture he's performed countless times, and this time he sends up a silent prayer of thankfulness that it's not freezing out this time. "What do you name plants?" he asks with a chuckle. "Do they get people names?"

[readvondaniken]

Palmer smiles as he watches Cricket open the package. He's happy Cricket seems to enjoy his present, though he doesn't know Cricket's tastes all that well.

"Well, I like pretty much everything here. The Eagles CD is a good one, and you've gotta give this Creedence Clearwater Revival tape a try. See if my tastes are similar to yours. I mean, I doubt it's a perfect match, but I chose stuff I thought you'd enjoy."

He smiles. "Oh, and there's one more thing." He holds up a package containing a Robin Hood VHS. "I got this for you."

[middle_son]

If there is one thing that Forrest is not fond of about the Nexus, it's these weird little boxes with their buttons and their screens. Give him a pen and paper, any day. Also, Forrest would definitely argue that he is Cricket's guardian. He's been looking after him and his own younger brother since he was a teenager, himself.

"There's bread rolls, too." Also homemade, and a jar of fresh homemade butter to go with it. Forrest has brought some amazing food. He frowns at the screen of his PINpoint, and holds it out to Palmer displaying his own number on it, for the other man to take down. "Might come by." He doesn't do much shopping in the Nexus, but he's thinking he should probably assess what resources are available, here.

[middle_son]

"Coulda, though." He means it, too. Of course, his vegetable dishes would probably have more butter and possibly bacon grease, because vegetarian is a foreign concept. He would have tried, though, and it would have also been damn good food.
Forrest grunts at the mention of
hummus and shakes his head, because that's a new one, but he'll gladly try it. Anything with garlic ought to be good, and he has no idea about the health food ideologies that people tend to pair with it.

Accepting the mason jar, he shuffles along after Cricket, and eyes the chickens. Who knew there were so many different kinds? Or colors...

"Hmn. What're they usually like?"

[readvondaniken]

"Don't mind if I take you up on that offer." Palmer takes a couple of breadrolls and adds butter. Hey, he's never one to turn down a free meal, and he's still hungry. He decides to talk a little more before digging in.

Palmer doesn't mind the PINpoints so much, but he's used to them. He's also a mechanic - he likes going through things and seeing what makes them tick. "Wouldn't mind if you came by. My place is called Gear Today, Gone Tomorrow." Palmer pulls a business card with his address and PINpoint information, offering it to Forrest after he copies down the other man's number.

[totallyadog]

Don't worry, I have no plans to eat the live chickens. If I did, you would have a flock of Thing-chickens, and no one in the Nexus wants that. Bob smiles, a little creepy coming from a dog.

It's no surprise that his fur feels soft and doggy. The fur is a perfect imitation of a real dog's fur.

Choking wouldn't be an issue for me. Bones are organic. I could simply absorb the bone into my tissue - I can't suffocate like people do. But thank you for the warning. Bob jumps onto the patio, patiently waiting for Cricket to give him chicken as he wags his tail.

[outpostcook]

"Don't mind if I take you up on that offer. McReady sent you his regards, and says he very much likes your moonshine. He said he met you once, and he regrets he wasn't here to offer his help during the winter. But things turned out all right in the end, mostly." Except they lost a few people, but Kinner won't mention that here.

Kinner's already cut himself a slice of cake, though he hasn't eaten it yet. He's pretty hungry himself.

"Yeah, I know Mr. Murdock. We worked together when the two Spider-Men got lost in the snow and needed our help, and we were both on the convoy team when we had to take food from the Fallen. We didn't talk much, but we know each other. It'll be nice to talk when nobody's in danger or lurking in the woods shooting at us." Kinner knows that the Fallen are still out there and still hostile, but he found fishing spots far from their territory.

"Yeah - I made sure to make and sign bookplates for all of them. Mr. McReady signed the Antarctica one, too. That book used to belong to him, back when we were on the expedition together, but when I told him your birthday was coming up he decided to let you have it."

[chiron_survivor]

Adia returns the hug warmly and easily, as she always does with Cricket. Caspar is a little surprised by the handshake, but seems pleased by it all the same. His equivalent of a hug, maybe. And that gasp of delight is indeed rewarding. Enough so that he can overlook that nightmare of a cat sweater. Cricket, really. It's not anywhere close to Christmas.

"Glad you like it," he says, and is about to say something else, but then Willie makes her appearance. He has never seen a lillipup before, and certainly not one in a sailor dress, so he is not prepared for the onslaught of concentrated cuteness. His eyes take on a shine that is the opposite of cynical, the line of his mouth softening while he looks at her.

No. It's too cute.

"Oh, hello, Willie!" Adia leans forward and pets her on the head in greeting. "Caspar, this is Willie, Cricket's lillipup. Isn't she adorable?" Caspar makes a quiet, almost tortured sound of agreement, and Adia flashes Cricket a quick grin, knowing full well how this was going to play out. "We'd love a quick tour of the house when you get a chance. Did you have it custom built or was it already on the property?"

[volurofthehearth]

When Cricket calls her attention she's soon set to laughter, touching her mouth in embarrassment and then waving at her gifts. "I couldn't come without bringing some bread! And a dish for your new kitchen! And Viatorus wanted to send a gift because he couldn't come, but he didn't know if you liked red or white wine..."

So of course she was sent with both. With Isidor's advice on the red, and Viatorus' choice for the white, they're both high quality bottles whose prices are best not discussed.

There's no way she's missing out on colourful chickens! As soon as they're mentioned, she turns around as if she might spy a glimpse of them. Seeing none, she smiles at Cricket. "A drink would be wonderful! What would you recommend?"

[juststeverogers]

It's enough to crush a man down to his very atoms if he lets it. Steve's a strong guy, always been strong of heart even before he got the body to back it up. But the loss they've faced with Thanos goes beyond anything he knows how to cope with. It's not just losing Bucky (againagainalwaysagainitneverstops-), not just failing a mission. Not even just failing their World.

The stakes were so much higher.

Half of all life is gone.

Something Carol's all too quick to point out any time someone can get in touch with her. And so little by little Steve erodes away a bit more under the weight of that failure. Under the weight of trying to do right by everyone who's left. Questions about fruit preferences are a nice change of pace.

"I like them just fine. A slice of that and a lemonade would be real good of you, thanks." It's wholesome to watch Cricket talk about trivial things like food preferences. Steve couldn't say what he's had to eat in the last week if his life was on the line. Everything blurs together after a while. He settles into the chair and takes a look around while Cricket speaks with the same passion Steve once had about having his very own home here in the Nexus. He knows that feeling, distantly. Even though it feels like it happened a lifetime ago. He can try to recollect it now.

"When I first got my own place here, I'd never owned much of anything before in my life. Never had the means to. This place gave me a lot. I'm real glad it's treating you just as decent."

[slicksalesman]

"I'm glad to hear it," Dr. Alma smiled warmly at him, "Even if it's just for a spot of tea and a chat,"

Celeste perked up, quite fascinated when she listened to Cricket explain what moonshine is.

I never saw moonshine before or tasted it, but I'll be mighty happy to see what it looks like," she smiled, "Oh, and to taste it,"

Dr. Alma looked impressed.

"You made the wine? I'm pretty sure it will taste splendid. I don't mind if it's a little sweet. I do have a sweet tooth," she gave him a soft smile, "Do you make all the different beverages as well?"

Mr. Slick gave Cricket a warm smile.

"No problem at all. I'm more than happy to help," he smiled as he nodded, "Please lead the way,"

"We'll be helping ourselves to some snacks," Celeste gave Cricket a warm smile, "We'll be nearby,"

[middle_son]

There is nothing on earth that compares to fresh-churned butter from milk that came out of a cow less than 24 hours ago. It's soft and rich and creamy. What Forrest makes is farm food, stuff that's designed for people who eat it and then go work in a field for hours on end.

Forrest raises an eyebrow at the pun that is the shop's name, but dutifully takes the business card, and is grateful not to have to punch the numbers in on the little keypad right now. He's a smart man, but the PINpoint is weird and foreign and makes his fingers feel big and clumsy. "Is it cars 'n trucks, or... other stuff?"

[readvondaniken]

Once Palmer's eaten one of the breadrolls, he would agree with that assessment. He gives Forrest a thumbs-up. He's not a picky eater, far from it, but the breadrolls are delicious. Palmer greedily slips another breadroll into his pocket to eat later. No harm keeping a snack to eat when the party's over.

When off work, Palmer always keeps a few business cards on his person. He is a salesman, after all. "Yeah, we do cars and trucks, but you're right, we do other things, too. I do general repairs and restoration work, if you've ever got any need for that. Cricket works for me sometimes, along with a man named Cassian."

[middle_son]

Forrest doesn't advertise Blackwater Station; the road and word of mouth brings his business to him. The reputation of his baked goods may have something to do with that. But he does not have business cards.

"Don't got a lot beyond cars 'n trucks, and th'stills. Cricket used t'be our mechanic at th'station, though." They have not replaced him yet, and while the Bondurant brothers all know the basics of car maintenance and can repair easy issues for travelers, none of them have Cricket's more advanced skills with an engine.

[readvondaniken]

Palmer's a salesman, even if he tries not to oversell. Despite his shady past and the illegal nature of his side business back home, he's honest in his business dealings, something he puts pride in. He's not shy about blowing his own horn, either.

"Cricket's a talented mechanic. He's been a great assistant when he's worked together with me - that car we made that runs on his moonshine's really somethin'. If you ever need a spare hand 'round in your world, I'm happy to help you out if you'd ever like. 'Cause you're a friend of Cricket, I'm willing to work for free. Cars and trucks are familiar territory for me."

[alittlehinky]

"I make the moonshine in a couple flavors," he says. "And I can make country wines. Dandelion and blackberry. Ain't nothin' fancy, but they're good for a friendly party like this. Where I come from, it was pretty normal to make a little moonshine on the side."

He grins at Celeste. "I'll bring you some with a mixer, in case it's too strong."

He nods to Mr. Slick, beckoning him toward the table where the jars of moonshine, pitchers of lemonade, and other drinks are. "So you brought your whole family here?" He asks. "That must be nice, to have 'em all together."

[alittlehinky]

"Well, I reckon it'll get eaten, no problem," Cricket tells her with a grin. He already knows better than to turn down anything she's made. The wine is...actually a little intimidating. He doesn't have the experience with such things to tell at a glance that they're expensive vintages, but he tends to assume most wines that weren't bottled by someone he knows personally are out of his league. They're elegant bottles, though. He'll probably use them for decoration long after the contents are gone.

"I don't know if I like red or white better, either," he admits. "But I'll tell you after I taste both."

"I forget if you said you'd had moonshine before? You had some of the eggnog though, around Christmas, right? Be happy to let you try a little of the straight stuff, if you like, only it's real strong so I don't want you to feel like you gotta drink it if it's too much." He beckons her toward the drink table. "I made dandelion wine, too, and there iced tea and lemonade and soda-pop."

[alittlehinky]

It could be worse, Caspar. He could be wearing his Smash the Patriarchy hoodie. Not that the message is bad, there, but it is neon pink.

"It's really beautiful," he says of the gift, cradling it carefully in his hands. And he, like Adia, watches Caspar's transformation with amusement.

Willie's tail-wagging only increases when Adia speaks to her. She gives a couple upbeat little yips and lets herself be petted, but if there is any pause in Adia's attentions, she's going right for Caspar. She's acute enough to recognize admiration and will take her tribute now, thank you very much.

"Sure thing!" Cricket's enthusiastic about offering tours. "I had it built. Bought the property first, then took out a loan to build on it, but housing's cheaper in the Nexus somehow than back home. I guess 'cause of the materials and technology available?"

He heads slowly for the side door, giving Willie and Caspar plenty of time to keep up.

[alittlehinky]

"I know you could." Cricket's expression softens for a moment. Forrest is tough as nails, intimidating and admirable, and also somehow one of the most maternal people Cricket knows.

"I don't know if it had been invented yet back home," he says thoughtfully of the hummus. "Or maybe it comes from another country? It's good, anyway."

He giggles a little about the chickens. "Well, the fluffy ones're usually white, black, or buff and grey. The ones like that purple one over there aren't normally quite so bright. And the brahmas, the big ones, they're just white, normally."

He looks thoughtful. "Loki didn't do much to the rooster, though. Just put the bow tie on 'im. He's always that colorful."

[alittlehinky]

Matt probably can't tell from the noises, but Willie is wearing a bow and a little sailor dress, because dressing her up is one of Cricket's small joys in life, and she loves the attention. She makes a little whining sound in response to her companion's admonishment, and follows them at a trot, bounding through the grass alongside them.

"Usually," he says. "There was a flytrap kinda thing Harley called Bertha, and I actually ended up callin' one of the sunflowers Alice."

"I like the white flowers on this one. Kinda shaped like feathers. I could name it after a bird, like a dove or a swan."

[alittlehinky]

The multiverse is so big, and Cricket is so small. He's always been aware of his smallness--hard not to be in the face of the mountains themselves, towering and ancient as they are--but here in the Nexus it's become a kind of protection. He can help his neighbors and greet strangers, give whatever money he can spare and donate time to help people repair things, but he's not going to be saving any worlds. His is the Little Way, gentle and personal and low-stakes, but he gives it all he's got.

"Comin' right up," he tells him warmly, moving off to fetch first the lemonade, then cutting a very generous slice of the cake for Steve. He still remembers him starving in the Winter, lethargic and past the point of being able to work, all but bedridden and still trying. There is as much magnificence, in a way, in weakness as there is in strength, when it pushes past its own boundaries with such determination.

"Exactly that," he admits as he sets the plate and fork in Steve's hand, and finds a place in the chair beside him, propping his legs up on the lower rung of the porch railing. "There was no way I'd ever have anything like this back home. Never had no real prospects. I had work, at least, fixin' engines and such, but it wasn't gonna get me but so far. Not in 1931."

"It's all I ever wanted, this," he says. "My friend Jack, he used to talk about fancy cars and when he had money he'd buy himself a nice suit. He liked flash. That ain't for me, though."