1st race

[bleak_midwinter]

[Spam]

[Tommy walks the halls as if they belong ti him- it's not too strange, since they often did, back home. He walks as if's surrounded by hard men with razors stitched into their hats, with guns in their hands. It's easy to take offense to, but he'll be quick to reassure if anyone does.

He visits the Deck first, to smoke and to let it sink in where he is. After that, he makes the rounds, exploring: the dining hall for a good meal, the bar for some whiskey (Irish; always), the engine room. He spends a considerable amount of time in the common rooms, too, trying to figure out the TV's.

At night he's back on the deck, as high as he can go, as different as scene from his dreams as the Barge can provide.]

[Video]

[He's been on the ship for a full day before he announces himself. You might have seen him, or you might not have; for all he moves as if he owns the halls, his suit is drab enough that he can blend in when he wants.

He's in his kitchen now; there are patterned tiles, an old-fashioned wood stove, a china cabinet. It's cozy, if outdated for most of the Barge's inhabitants. Without his hat on, Tommy's eyes are a clear, penetrating blue. His voice is low, with a strong Birmingham accent. He's smoking, and it's obscuring his face in the already low lighting from the oil lamp on the table.]

From what I can tell, this place is all about 'forgiveness'. Not forgetting, but forgiving-- inmates and wardens alike. How long should forgiveness take? Are there things you could never forgive? People you'll always forgive?

Has your opinion changed, since you've been here?

Comments

[bleak_midwinter]

[He puts the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and shakes Gene's hand with a strong grip.]

Sergeant Major Thomas Shelby, British Army. [He steps back again, takes the cigarette in his hand.] Warden.

[withtheoldbreed]

[Gene nods, more or less immediately accepting that introduction and reshuffling how he's going to be talking to this guy because of the rank. It's a little different because he's British and all, but Gene's nothing if not polite anyway.]

What year was it for you, before you got here, sir?

[bleak_midwinter]

[He doesn't even think about telling Gene to drop the 'sir'; he's an unfamiliar soldier, not a friend, and even his old subordinates still use the title. It's familiar, and it's fine.]

1920.

[withtheoldbreed]

1944. [And he can't help but be reminded of meeting Jimmy for the first time, and wondering how to explain that your war didn't end anything. Assuming this guy even fought in the first one, although Gene guesses the chances of that are very likely.] Guess you already know we're kinda behind most of the people here.

[bleak_midwinter]

[He knows already-- Steve had been frank about it, and it had been a letdown but not a big surprise. So he nods, taps some ash off the end of his cigarette.]

Steve Rogers explained some, yes. Where were you stationed?

[withtheoldbreed]

The Pacific. Mostly islands no one's ever heard of.

[He manages to not sound bitter as he says it, too. It's not his fault he'd never have heard of Peleliu or Pavuvu before - neither had Gene before he'd been dumped on them.]

[bleak_midwinter]

The places I was in France, no one had ever heard of before either. [They'll know, now-- after. Because of what Gene and the rest are doing there.]

[withtheoldbreed]

Where in France? [Gene's read a lot about the first war, but he's wondering if Jimmy and this guy had ever crossed paths. Stranger things had happened.]

[bleak_midwinter]

The Somme, Verdun. I was over there long enough to have seen most of that place.

[withtheoldbreed]

How long's it been since you got back? If you don't mind me asking.

[bleak_midwinter]

A little longer than two years. Saw it through to the end.

[withtheoldbreed]

My inmate was in the war. There's another three guys who were in mine, but that's about it. [In terms of people who are in their general neck of the woods with a history in the military, anyway.] You got any questions about any new stuff you run into, I can do my best to help.

[bleak_midwinter]

Thank you for the help, Private. I'll be sure to remember.