Well, let's make this official.
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.
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.