I CAN'T IMAGINE THERE'S A WAY —

[retravel]

WHO: Fitz, SHIELD, and you!
WHERE: New Amsterdam's medium-est bar: Refraction
WHEN: 01 September
WHAT: Leo's turning 31 100
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBA

[ On his actual birthday, Fitz celebrates with his two closest friends (the people who’ve kept him together, despite wobbles along the way). Bobbi and Daisy, however, know that when Fitz says I hate people and don’t want to celebrate in the middle of a secret war he means I hate being alone, even on days without symbolic meaning. Daisy and Bobbi send out the mass evite, and Bobbi uses her powers of persuasion to find a more upscale venue for a discounted rate. Due to the flipped schedules in the height of New Amsterdam’s summer, Fitz’s party happens in the morning (the new night for anyone working a 9-5 gig), sun rising high over the city as it begins.

Welcome to REFRACTION, a classy bar tens of floors off the ground, with a stellar view of the city, not far from the river. Beams of light weave across the back area of the venue, well-lit by various glowing fixtures. Something about the place has an old world flair, with its dark colour scheme and minimalist decor. Maybe today’s an acceptable excuse to dress smart, celebrate with a friend, and drink up:

— enjoy the food (which might have had British roots at one point, but it’s hard to tell given the variety of fusions on display in bite-size portions) and initial round of free fizz, compliments of the host (and the host’s super stem friends)
— buy drinks at the bar and get wankered (as the birthday boy will be, around the new midnight)
— people watch from the tables and sofas
— dance to NA’s top synth pop hits (coming through hidden speakers above and holograms of the singers at some tables, activated by the proximity of nearby implant viewers)
— try a piece of cake, reading Happy 100th Birthday, Fitz! and looking a bit like it came from the same space-themed, child's birthday do as the evite. If your piece of cake has a wee star inside it, it means you’re one of the lucky winners and get a freebie at the bar.

As a nice establishment, rowdiness will only get you tossed on your arse by the bouncers, so everybody be cool.

At one point, someone nudges Fitz forward to say something. Dressed in his finest blues, he cuts a smarter figure than the usual corporate cut-out. ]

Right. [ said in the tight voice of someone who is definitely on the verge of crushing the flute in his hand. ] I never know what to say, and I didn't have time to prepare because, ah. Surprise. [ he splays out his free hand. ] So I will just say that — that there's someone I wish was here, despite all the horrible happenings, but that I am so so grateful that you're all here despite them, too. It's not for — forever, but it's pretty nice. Right now. [ As another SHIELD agent said: We have what we have when we have it. That's it. ] Thank you. Cheers!

( if you don't think the SHIELD losers would have invited your character, please feel free to come up with a semi-plausible reason for attending. gatecrashing, plus ones, hearing the commotion and wanting to be nosy. all are welcome! )

Comments

[rehandle]

[ it can't feel great, having blind patches, parts of your knowledge of the world yet to be filled in. well - he knows it can't. it doesn't. he's been here a lot longer than she has, and he's barely any better informed.

but there's only so much he can say right now. he does his best to say it without any trace of hostility. ]

Because resources here don't grow on trees, and we tend to stick together.

[ "stick together". talk occasionally but at length about theories that are informed by our experiences in a shared nest of universes, and in that even rarer gem of a shared world, ocassionally get beaten up by one another in an effort to keep each other safe. same difference. ]

It's up to you, but I'll be available should you want to talk.

[ that's the benefit of being unemployed, but it's also an offer he'd have made her regardless. she's from his world. it's more than enough to inspire a little camaraderie in him. ]

[revlon]

[ No, it doesn't feel great to be in the dark. She was trained to dive headfirst into it with every bit of possible information to light her way. It's barely been a week and she's no closer to finding true north. Which means — ]

Something tells me I should take you up on it.

[ It's not a choice, per se. But he's right: resources don't grow on trees and he is one, although she isn't sure how or why beyond their shared origins (albeit some decades apart). There must be a great deal Fitz isn't telling her; Fitz and Johnson and now this man, this Dr Strange. That's the benefit of being from her future. It puts her at an impossible disadvantage with a gap so vast, she isn't sure she can ever truly bridge it no matter how much she tries.

Does she want to know everything? Should she? That's a hard question to answer. But this is the first step towards a decision. ]

[rehandle]

[ a small smile, sympathetic but pleased. if he can help drag her a little farther out of that murk, he'd like to. unfortunately, or maybe fortunately given how rarely they get to really take a moment out, now isn't the time. ]

Probably. [ along comes his drink (where were they, taking a trip to get the ice fresh from colder climes?) and he takes it up, tilting it in slight toast. ] For now, I'll leave you to it. I'm sure you've got plenty of mingling to do.

[revlon]

[ She huffs out a breath, not quite a laugh. ]

If you know me at all, then I don't need to tell you I don't 'mingle.'

[ Not when she isn't working. She's a private woman who prefers intimate conversations with close friends rather than the general to-do that comes with a party no matter how big or small. This is more her speed, but this — a little barside chat — even more so, as much as it toes the line of invasive. ]

But I suppose you're right. I should play nice. [ How refreshing to give up a little pretence. She quirks her brow, touches her glass to his. ] Starting with you.