WHERE: Vallo: Abandoned Tavern WHEN: 2030 (Future Dated) WHAT: Future!Tyler and Future!Fitz find the cards that start the birth of poker nights at the Outpost. WARNINGS: Apocalypse Vibes STATUS: Complete
Fitz pressed himself against the wall of the tavern and closed his eyes. He didn’t feel anything within, but that didn’t always mean that it was empty these days. All his life – except those years that he’d been hunting the Forged ones – he’d been able to rely on his wit sense to tell him if anyone or anything was near.
It wasn’t gone. Not really. But it was like being deafened. He could still feel other creatures, other humans – he could feel Tyler standing next to him – but he had to be nearly on top of them before he could. It was uncomfortable, needing to rely on someone else’s senses over his own, but Tyler’s senses were more likely to pick up Interitus’ forces than Fitz’ weakened Wit sense.
“I don’t feel anything,” Fitz said after a moment, and if Tyler couldn’t hear or smell anything within the building, it likely meant that it was empty. Even still, Fitz made sure he had a strong grip on his axe before he slipped through the door, and once Tyler was through he glanced around and placed a nearby glass at the base of the door. If anyone else opened it after them, the falling glass would alert them. It wasn’t as subtle as Fitz would have liked, nor as foolproof. Probably even superfluous, given how sensitive Tyler’s hearing was, but they’d learned already that some of Interitus’ forces had the ability to mask their presence from Tyler’s senses, and Fitz would take whatever early warning system he could get.
He relaxed, a little, now that they were out of sight. They were hardly out of the woods yet – though in this case, the woods were considerably more safe than the city – but there was something about being indoors that just felt more safe.
“I’ll check the kitchens for any food we might be able to bring back,” Fitz said.
It had been almost ten years since he had met Fitz. But in those ten years, Tyler got to know the man well enough to put him on Matt Donovan’s level of friendship. There was no doubt about whether or not Fitz had his back. And when the world ended, it was easy to fall into a pattern of teaming up to go out for missions like this - be it reconnaissance for the Resistance or gathering supplies to keep the Outpost and the rebellion going.
With teaming up, it helped that their inherent supernatural abilities complemented one another so well. As Fitz figured out with his wit whether or not there was anyone inside, he used his own to fill in the cracks that Fitz’s dampened abilities allowed for.
Nodding at the go ahead, he followed Fitz’s lead into the building. When nothing came out to try and attack them, he relaxed just slightly, enough that he felt comfortable talking again. “You think we’ll get lucky again and find some of those shitty seltzers again?” They tasted like ass, well over their best by date, but it seemed like seltzers were the only thing that had survived this apocalypse.
“I don’t think I’d consider that luck,” Fitz answered dryly. “At least, not good luck. There’s a reason why that’s always what’s left behind, and never a decent bottle of wine or ale.”
Fitz missed wine. He’d made attempts to ferment some of his own, to varying levels of success, but he’d never managed anything more than some sour imitation; he was sure even if it had been allowed time to age properly, it would never manage to reach the level of a fine bodied wine.
But he enjoyed late nights drinking with Tyler, when they got the chance, and would settle for the seltzers or the Mountain Dew drinks – that didn’t taste nearly as refreshing as the name might have implied – that they occasionally stumbled upon.
He opened the first of the fridges, wrinkled his nose at the smell of rotting vegetables that immediately exploded from it, and briefly debated giving it up for a lost cause. But there were foods in this world that were tightly packaged and resistant to rotting, and even if they might have a terrible aftertaste to them, it was better than nothing. He resigned himself to pawing through the sludge.
"Man, you know we're at the point that even thinking about those awful cans of ambrosia brings a smile to my face." The words were contrary, but so were Tyler's feelings on Mountain Dew hard seltzers. He started to poke around the front of the tavern, where they could still hear each other without raising their voices enough to draw unwanted attention.
He didn't bet on finding much of anything useful there, though he smirked sardonically when he opened the register and found it full of cash. No use for currency when everyone was pretty much dead.
But when he ducked below the register and started to poke through rotting binders of paperwork, in hopes of finding a first aid kit or something, he hit gold.
Well, not quite, but…
"Hey, I found some cards!" He said, reaching for the two decks of novelty playing cards that featured scantily clad women. "Might be enough for a poker night if we have a full set here."
“Cards?” Fitz asked. It probably wasn’t important enough for him to give up the search in that particular fridge, but Fitz was happy to take the excuse. He rinsed his hands off in the sink – thank god for indoor plumbing that continued to work even in buildings that were long abandoned – and went to join Tyler.
He knew of cards – business cards, cards for holidays — only since coming to Vallo. Writing was still done, by and large, on vellum back in his own world, and had not nearly been common enough for the sometimes frivolous uses that it got here in Vallo, and he couldn’t begin to think of what one could do with say, a Valentine’s Day card, other than send it to your love. He’d heard of poker in passing, he thought, but had never actually learned what it was. He peered over Tyler’s shoulder. “Are those for a game of some sort?”
Tyler knew that Fitz came from a world that was unlike his own. But still, he raised an eyebrow and looked at the man standing behind him, who was giving the decks in his hands a curious look. "Wait, did I really never drag your ass out with me to a poker night before the world went to complete shit?" He racked his brain to try and remember all the new first experiences he had subjected Fitz to, before Interidick had risen to power.
And nothing. Not a single card game night came to mind.
Both of Tyler's eyebrows did their very best to reach his hairline. "Holy shit, I haven't. Man, we're fixing this as soon as we get back to base," the wolf vowed, grinning wide. It was nice to have something to smile about in the apocalypse.
“I’ll look forward to it. Though I think first we should focus on getting back to base.”
Nothing was ever certain in the world that Interitus had made, and Fitz had crossed paths with Fate too often for him to enjoy tempting her. But, well, opportunities for fun were too rare for him to reject. “I’ll make an extra effort to keep my eyes open for liquor. This seems like one of those games that’s best played with a few drinks in you.”
Tyler grinned, a plan to talk to Sabrina about her moonshine in case their quest for liquor fell through. The priority on these trips tended to always be more about food rations, medical supplies, intel, and weapons and not even a poker night could distract them from that.
“Alright, let’s get back to it then and see if we can find anything else while we’re here,” Ty said, slipping the cards into his pack and shouldering it properly again. “Any luck with those nasty ass fridges?” It had been hard not to smell the decay and rot coming from them when Fitz had popped open one of them. Enhanced senses were useful, but kind of a bitch when it came to apocalypse related smells.
“Not so far,” Fitz said, and frowned in disgust. “I haven’t checked all of them yet though.” It wasn’t the most distasteful job he’d had to do, and so he wouldn’t complain too much. It didn’t take him long to search the remaining fridges, and when he did stumble upon some more of those alcoholic seltzers, he considered keeping quiet about it.
In the end, though, he reminded himself that Tyler was offering to teach him to play poker, and fair play was fair play. And so, he tucked it under his arm, and presented it when they were ready to head back to the Outpost. It was time to learn some cards.