networkinthenight | voice; @hicks

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voice; @hicks

( when he speaks his voice is soft an' easy, mild-mannered as all get-out, with an alabama accent that kicks like a mule to the head besides. he has the air of someone well-used to wieldin' some manner of authority, albeit in another fashion in a faraway place from this. )

For those of you I ain't met, name's Eugene Hicks, an' I'm one of the medics here in Beacon. If'n anybody finds themselves in want of food or company, Sundays me an' a few others are layin' out a spread at the Church. Anybody's welcome, all I ask is no fightin' under the Lord's roof. If'n you felt like bringin' a dish of your own to share, it'd be appreciated. ( he pauses, an' in a lighter tone obviously aimed to jest, ) First person to complain about my Ma's fried tomatoes or the lack of ice cream with the pie will be shown the door, no exceptions.

( it ain't a video post, but he ducks his head all the same. there's a slight jangle of his dog-tags. )

And, ah. Given that the El-Tee ( 'LT', short for lieutenant ) found a village across the river, Rastus seemed to think I ought to maybe work at buildin' a bridge so's we can all access whatever resources might be on the other side without any measure of difficulty. I can do carpentry all right, but if anyone can lend a hand it'd be appreciated. Apparently there's a creature in the river fixin' to drag folks under, so please mind yourselves if'n you're of a mind to get close.

That's all. Look after yourselves an' have a pleasant evenin'.

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[ Rafe does some chewing of his own but eventually— ]

Hell with it. [ The shrug is nearly audible. ] Yeah. I can go for a shot of something. Then at least when you get bored listening, you'll still have a drink in your hand.

[ In his experience, people only have so much attention span when he starts talking. ]

( it's so oddly self-deprecatory. one of those things that's meant to be flippant but ain't, somehow, an' gene's brow furrows a bit. man ain't been nothin' but ego so far, but that. that speaks to somethin' else. well, archaeology — least as he understands it — ain't exactly a career that a lotta folks would look too keenly on. so maybe it's that, especially on top'a not findin' too much of note.

he wants to ask how nathan fits in to all'a this. not that he's convinced they know each other, but. there's enough threads there he thinks they might.

his tone's a bit gentle when he replies, )

You kiddin'? I grew up hearin' stories about this kinda thing. You won't find me aught but rapt, my hand to God. C'mon, let's get on. Ten minutes?

[ His eyebrows arch towards his hairline as he plays the message back, and again, trying to catch a telltale note of bullshit somewhere beneath the twang. He usually has a decent ear for that kind of thing but... Can't find it.

Well, not like it matters. A drink is a drink and so he shakes his head and focuses on the important details. ]

The Invincible, right? [ Unless they've got booze stashed somewhere else. ] I'll be there.

( ain't a hard place for him to be, given that he'd been hangin' out by the bonfire. so off he goes, orderin' a couple beer at the bartop before he slides into a booth with clear sightlines to the door. soldierin' habit. used to be, reggie'd be watchin' his back, but. he's learnin' to live without him, here, much as it kills him.

once rafe enters the premises, he raises his beer in a little salute and gestures the man over. )

Figured beer was a safe bet to start, but if you're of a mind for somethin' harder that ain't a trouble.

[ Takes Rafe a bit longer, a measured pace between the church and the Invincible as he wonders if this is even worth it. But he's committed now and refuses to back down as if he's got some kind of problem. Which he doesn't. It's perfectly fine to go and talk about a life's work left unfinished because of some unrepentant asshole.

Gene makes himself easy to find and Rafe slides into the seat opposite, expression carefully neutral. ]

Not like a guy's gotta worry about paying off the tab here.

[ Even if the forest spirits decide they want a tip, Rafe's seen enough of Melisandre's offerings. Surely he'd be able to find a nice rock or an interesting stick and get them off his back. Examining the bottle for a moment before taking a swig, he sucks his teeth and cants his head at Gene. ]

So. You're a student of history.

( he affects a guilty expression, though it clearly ain't meant in earnest. )

Well, ( he flaps his hand a bit, dismissive. ) Learn a thing or two about Myrddin once upon a time an' you're hooked for life, you know?

( he could say he sees the dead. that what he knows he's learned mostly from them. but that ain't a thing to be said to folk he don't know that well of yet. )

[ It's enough that Rafe almost cracks a smile, a quick twitch at the corner of his mouth before he hides it behind the beer. ]

Arthuriana— One of the more common gateway drugs for this kind of thing. You stick to just the Dark Ages or you dabble anywhere else?

[ Look at this masterful conversation that's steering a hundred percent clear of what Gene actually invited him for. ]

Little bit of everything. You put your boots on the ground in Europe an' the history feels like it could crawl on up outta the ground, you know?

( an' for him, it very nearly does. he's spoken with roman soldiers, pagan tribesman, french nobility, all those damn boys they lost twenty years before his time. everyone dies just the same.

his voice twists, soft an' wistful, )

Wish I could'a seen more.

Mm. There's nothing to match it stateside.

[ There's some natural grandeur, to be sure, but that's a different sensation. Permanence and your own insignificance in the face of it, but not the kind of age you get walking the coast at Amalfi or cutting through the back alleys of Prague.

But that's something he's kept too private for too long to just...let air like that. ]

Where were you at, after Altnaharra? [ He finishes his beer in a rush, glancing around for a spirit waiter or something to flag down. ] Unless I'm an asshole for asking in which case, forget it.

( anyone versed in history can take a few guesses as to why a fella who's still stubbornly wearin' jump pants an' a pair of brown leather corcorans would'a been in the highlands in '44. but rather than answer immediately, he picks a spirit outta the crowd and waves 'em on over. by the short discussion that follows, gene seems to cotton on to a little more than the average bird engagin' with 'em. another round on order, then, an' he's back to the conversation.

gently, )

Y'ain't an asshole for holdin' reasonable discourse, fella. Or for askin' an innocent question I can just as easily say no to the tellin'.

( he's. surprised, a little, by that small act of concession. ain't exactly that rafe doesn't seem the sort for it, but folks who project confidence and assurance the way he does don't tend to be big on mindin' other folks' feelings in the quiet ways. but the re-calibration of his perception happens quick-like. already noted is the fact he's bein' real cagey about touchin' on the real purpose of their comin' here. then again, gene can't hardly blame him, with how bitter he sounded. maybe he changed his mind.

if he's right about why, askin' nathan might be the safer bet. he ain't yet convinced they know each other, but. the coincidences are stackin' up. )

But, uh, France. Normandy specifically. D-Day, you know, an' all that. My company was tasked with takin' the bridge at La Fière.

( biggest modern military operation in history at the time. he doubts it's rafe's specialty, but he seems a man who'd know at least a little of it. )

[ Rafe's known his fair share of ex-military over the years. Some are happy to rattle off their résumé, some lean too heavily on the if I told you I'd have to kill you shtick to take seriously, and some just stare you down. Any and all are fair responses but Rafe's learned not to assume which he'll get. So he waits, patient, for as much or as little as Gene will offer.

The spirit returns shortly with a decent sized brown bottle and two glasses, chittering away at Gene as it sets it all down. It spares a glance at Rafe who just stares back a moment before rolling his eyes, patting down a pocket for a hand-sewn cloth pouch. He fishes a couple brightly colored pebbles out and slides them across the table towards the spirit.

Weird as the little things may be, good service still deserves a tip. ]

Mission Boston, then. [ Rafe shrugs a shoulder as the spirit scuttles off again. He pours a couple fingers for himself after an experimental sniff, makes a universal you too? gesture with the bottle at what's going to be Gene's glass. ] My focus is a little bit older than all that but I like to think I got a decent grounding in the last hundred years.

( rafe knowin' the codename of the mission actually makes him smile some, duckin' his head as he lifts his glass up so rafe can dole the liquid out. he adds a coin to the offering for the little spirit, something shiny an' german. )

That's right.

( he's quietly, shyly pleased an' it's woven through the current of his tone. it ain't wrong to say he's — touched? he doesn't hold any expectation that folks in the generations that follow his will know much more than the basics. after all, that's his generation with the civil war, an' about the same length of time separates them. )

I appreciate you knowin'. Lord knows history has a way of fallin' through the cracks of time.

( it's nobody's fault. he'd rather folks grow up ignorant of the pain an' sufferin'. but it still matters, when someone cares to commit details to memory. )

Some of it, sure, [ Rafe readily admits, since his work is— or was specifically tracking down those cracks and prying something free of them. But at the same time it's worth pointing out: ] Though thankfully it's become a hell of a lot more accessible, certainly since your day.

[ It's easier to deflect back to Wikipedia when someone pops in the right attribution, never mind the five dozen channels on cable devoted to a different computer simulation or reenactment every hour on the hour. Hobbyist historians are a dime a dozen and all with their separate focus. Byzantine Empire. Yukon Gold Rush. Hundred Years' War. Whatever. It's all there for those who care enough to look — and Rafe feels that any Joe off the street should at least somewhat — so all that matters is what's done with that knowledge when followed to the end.

Still, there's a hint of a smile in kind — even if Rafe's face is more used to smirking than anything else. It's practically a whole different set of muscles. ]

( smiling's a nice look on rafe — though gene ain't sure it's an expression he entertains all that much. but it's enough that he can see what mel must see in the fella, an' he ducks his head, smilin' just the same. )

That, ah, Internet? ( he says that a touch uncertainly, like he's not sure he's even pronouncin' it right. ) thing, yeah? I've heard tell of it. Reckon it's a good thing, you know? More folk should be keen on the dissemination of information. Betters us as a people.

( reggie would'a loved it. he always felt that knowledge should belong to whomsoever wanted it, an' he'd fought an' died to that end. gene thumbs his finger along the edge of his glass, an' then takes another sip. whatever this is has a bit of a kick to it, though it ain't half so strong as what they had in ireland. )

So... y'say your focus is a little past the last hundred years? Got a continent of interest?

( he's been on three of 'em, an' met ghosts on each. he's always been a child of history. )

That'd be it.

[ Correct pronunciation and all. He debates popping the particular bubble Gene seems to have regarding the world wibe web, informing him of all else that bubbled up from the nasty corners of cyberspace, but. Nah. He's not about to get drunk enough to explain Buzzfeed quizzes. So Gene can keep that for himself.

Even as he neatly steers Rafe back to the real topic at hand. ]

Continent... Not so much. [ The grin shades wry, much more comfortable than what came before. ] Age of Sail.

( the coin nathan gave him, the weight of the history in holdin' it. the story that came afterwards. he's drawin' more an' more to an obvious conclusion. )

Piracy, huh?

( his generation was all the more closer to it, an' there'd been plenty of folk romanticizing it even then. ain't many souls who don't appreciate a good robin hood parable, after all. but the real men were often murderers an' thieves. sometimes those were the least'a their crimes. as he'd told nathan, he ain't ever met but a few pirates — includin' one eerie experience he had aboard the monterey involvin' the ghost of one that'd drowned at sea — but he saw the toll they took on the carolinas in the ghosts there, an' is of a disposition besides that tends to nearly always side with the common folk besieged by such a thing.

but it ain't his job to judge. he understands just as well, the desperation inherent in turnin' to such a life. )

How'd that come about?

( despite his personal reservations on the matter, he ain't never passed by the opportunity to learn about what folks have a passion for. )

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