Cricket Pate (
alittlehinky) wrote2019-07-03 09:29 pm
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Happy Birthday//Welcome Home!
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.]
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.]
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Once Forrest gives him permission to help himself, Palmer cautiously accepts some chicken and takes a bite. He chews for a few moments, then swallows.
"This is pretty damn good, Mr. Bondurant. Or would you like to be called Forrest?"
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"Thanks. Either's fine." There are enough people around back home who call him Mr. Bondurant that he's used to it, but a friend of Cricket's is certainly allowed to use his first name.
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"Thanks, Forrest." Palmer acknowledges the permission he's been granted. "You can call me Palmer. Or Jim, but Palmer's what I'm used to answering to. Cricket and I were in a bit of a similar boat. Not bein' able to go home to our worlds."
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"Been meanin't'stop by Kinner's place. Pick up a few new recipes, maybe." It is very good fried chicken, not too greasy, light and crispy. He's no slouch cook, either.
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He smiles when Forrest mentions visiting Kinner. "Kinner's a great guy. He'd have some great recipes to teach you if you talk to him, and he makes some great fish. I'm guessing he gave you his address?"
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"Said he hadda shop, I just don't spend much time here. Got work back home." He's making a mental note that he should really make plans to stop by, though.
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"Kinner's Kippers. That's what it's called. He's a great guy. Little rough around the edges, but he's got a good heart." Palmer rummages in his pocket. "Tell you what - how 'bout we swap PINpoint information?"
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'Rough around the edges, with a good heart' could be applied to a number of people Forrest knows, including his older brother Howard. Palmer looks just a little bit like Howard, really, in a way Forrest hasn't yet pinned down. The habit of self-medication, maybe.
Oh no.
Is exchanging PINpoint info some kind of ritual around here?
It probably is.
Forrest pulls his out and hesitates, then prods at it a little to pull up his own number on it, with the air of a senior trying to work out a VCR remote.
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While Forrest works with the PINpoint, Palmer's taking the chance to enjoy his supper. By this point Palmer's gobbled down the last of the chicken he took, and is happily sucking the last scrap from the bones. He politely compliments Forrest as he discards them.
"Delicious. Thanks, Forrest. These are some good eats. But yeah, Cricket's fine. He's a good hand with a car, and we make a great team. You're welcome to visit my shop sometime."
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"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.
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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.
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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?"
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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."
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"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.
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"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."
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"Won't come bother you unless we're inaspot." He's still grateful to have that resource if he needs it.