trevsvensson (trevsvensson) wrote in ancient_ic, @ 2011-11-07 22:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | leah patinkin, trev svensson |
Trevor had always had a soft spot for pool
Who: Trev and Open
Where: Billiard Room
When: Monday Evening
What: Shooting some pool
Rating: TBD
Status: Open, incomplete
Trevor had always had a soft spot for pool. It was simple, logical, controllable, familiar. Velocities and angles with a bit of finesse and control needed. It was his kind of game. A thinking game, non-violent, able to be played while sipping a beer. Oh yeah, that was Trev's idea of a good evening. Knowing that about the technician, it was no real surprise to find him with a cue in hand during his off hours. Today was no exception, and lining up shots was helping take Trev's mind off the dull day to day work he was settling into here at the Society. Day to day was good, he tried to remind himself as he aimed for the solid six. He had done the big, the exciting, the challenging all day every day, and it had grown boring, it was half the reason he had taken up the black hat. No, day to day may not be fun, but it cleaned the pallet and let him enjoy the true spice of life when it came his way. Tongue ghosting over a full lower lip, he lined, aimed and taped the ball. The soft clack as the orbs collided was familiar and rewarding as the six sank itself into the corner pocket with a soft sound. The cue ball bounced back and rattled a few more around, Trev pacing around the table, watching what settled where with sharp brown eyes.
"Not bad," he commented to himself, stopping at the head of the table to snatch up his beer, taking a slow sip of it. Two things he would never get used to out here, the tea and the wine. Sure he liked wine on occasion, but he was a red blooded American at heart, and at the end of a long day, he wanted a beer, in a bottle, cold. They could tut and scoff about piss water all they wanted, watery beer and black coffee were his drinks of choice. Okay, so maybe he was being a little stubborn, but that was his choice. Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, he set the bottle down and went on to line up another shot, sinking the solid three, tensing as the striped five hovered dangerously near the hole, but did not go in. "Well, that pocket's out of use for a while," he muttered, pacing around the table again to try and decide the best shot.
For as many employees as filled the roster, the Society manor could feel oddly quiet at times. Then again, that could have just been because Trev was used to a much bigger, much more busy city. Stepping out to a packed bar or club after work was not at all uncommon, though he did think Jonas liked it more here. Not that his big brother was anti social at all, but he was not quite the magpie Trevor could be, and he liked to keep his brother close and know that he was safe. "Thirty years old and he's still a mother hen," he muttered again, talking to the billiard balls like he would a particularly difficult line of code. It was not at all uncommon for coders to talk to their computers while working, coding was a language all it's own, after all. That took little time in branching out into talking to other objects and did little to make him look any less crazy. At least Trev had puppy brown eyes, playfully curling hair and a quick, warm smile to make him appear less a threat.