one night of magic rush

[blyat]

WHO: Cain, Prompto, Hideki Maeda, and you!
WHERE: The popular Asylum club.
WHEN: Night of October 26.
WHAT: Cain and Prompto's joint birthdays!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Beyond drinking/smoking, general wild party behavior, and fake friendship, there shouldn't be much. Will update as needed.


[Set deep in the downtown of New Amsterdam's entertainment district is Asylum, arguably the most popular club in the city. The exterior is cool steel beams and tasteful futuristic architecture with a long line down the corridor, suited bouncers posed at the entrance all armed with a virtual guest list. Its interior is fashioned with bright, colorful lighting dynamic to the music of the infamous DJ Semicolon, high ceilings and acoustic sounds to lend that feeling of a constant full-body hum. Any partygoers on the guest list for this event will be funneled toward the VIP section. They will have received an invitation a few days prior via their Cooltalk profiles. Jason is specifically blacklisted, sorry buddy.

DANCE YOUR HEART OUT. Nearly impossible to book without deep pockets or wide-reaching connections, Semicolon is at the top of their game mixing popular contemporary hits with Whitney Houston's classics. From song to song, Semicolon provides a unique and talented contrast of the slow to the energetic, so no matter your dancing style, you'll find something to move you on the dance floor.

DROWN YOUR... LIVER. Courtesy of the party's host, Hideki Maeda, the VIP section's private bar will provide an ever-flowing river of your favorite expensive high-proof alcohol. Pick your poison.

CHILL OUT. Tired on your feet from too much dancing, or just need a break from the packed atmosphere? There are plenty of comfortable areas where you can relax and take it easy until you're ready to get back out there. The lights around this area cycle through different colors in reflection of Semicolon's performance set, so a slower song might lend toward romantic shades of red while a faster-paced song is brighter blue.

SMOKE, EAT & MINGLE. Asylum will be serving real, fresh meat at this party, so enjoy that luxury while it lasts. There is also an outdoor area with a beautiful view over the city itself if you want to take your vape pen out there for a smoke, just get some air, or see who's around for a chat.]

Comments

[blyat]

[As if her comment's reminded him, Cain lifts a hand to drag through the length of his hair, flattening bangs across his browline. Still messy, still wild, but cropped much shorter than her own current length.]

Atrocious? I think it looks good on you. [Fancy, a little dated (as if he knows anything about vintage fashion except that Peggy's style is not identical to those who are native here), nothing like the soldiers he's so accustomed now. It reminds him a bit of civilian life.] And 'the pictures'? Seriously?

[Okay, so those examples aren't horrible. Team building. Maybe they'll have to figure out how to escape a closed-off room someday? But it's still a far cry from what he means.]

Teach me the foxtrot, and we'll do that.

[revlon]

[ She shoots him a Look at the friendly dig about her dated slang. Yes, Cain, pictures, as in motion pictures. God, she recalls when they were called talkies and that wasn't even too long ago for her — a childhood a world and centuries away, yet not to her memory. Time is strange.

Fortunately, she masters her anachronisms at work and with the locals. With her fellow Displaced, she needn't work at the mask. (Oh, there's still a mask, but it's less of one here.) ]

You'd be my first dance partner in quite some time, you realise.

[ She doesn't mean it as a disservice to Dr Wilkes. But a few beats in the middle of a song felt more like a promise for more later than anything else; and they never got that later. Something of a pattern with her, as it happens. ]

I might be a little rusty.

[blyat]

[Easily digesting that look with a lazy, easy smile of his own, Cain takes another drag off the end of the vape pen to exhale its white cloud out over the city.]

You're rusty? I haven't even tried whatever this dance style is, not like I'm gonna notice.

[His own rustiness goes beyond time, as he can't remember the last time he did anything more formal and technical than the modern do-what-you-want manifestation of movement in practice at this moment on Asylum's dance floor.]

Trust me, I can handle it.

[revlon]

I'm sure you can. We might even graduate to a jive if you manage not to step on my toes.

[ An old joke from an old life, that. Peggy watches the smoke curl into the air with mild interest and lets the silence settle comfortably between them for a few heartbeats. Strange, to think of something so normal as dancing the way they used to. Dance halls, big bands with big brass that never stopped playing even over the wail of air raid sirens. Maybe some things never change.

Peggy purses her lips thoughtfully for a moment then shifts her angle, leaning an elbow on the rail so she can face Cain — and she holds out a hand for the pen, fingers crooking twice. ]

Come on, then.

[blyat]

[A sharp laugh precedes him surrendering the device, sleek and black with a silver button that glows when engaged, heat filling the chamber attached to the cartridge of nicotine oil.]

I've got no fucking idea what a jive is, Agent Carter. Just a warning.

[He stands faced toward the railing, posture slanted slightly, one hand on a hip. He knows he'll need to head back in lest Hideki note an extended absence, but for this moment he'll enjoy the sincerity.]

Press the silver button so it turns red, then inhale. Pretty easy. Not like a real cigarette, but it does the trick.

[revlon]

It's more your speed than a foxtrot. That's all you need to know.

[ But one must start with the basics before breaking the rules and letting loose. Which is roughly how Peggy Carter seems to tackle friendships, too — she'd attended Fitz's birthday party barely a week after arriving and had kept mostly to herself. The same holds true now but the warmth is deeper, more sincere.

And after a cursory inspection of the device and Cain's instructions, she takes a drag or two. It's certainly smoother than the Cravens or Lucky Strikes passed around during the war. (And the less said about Dernier's Gauloises, the better.) But she passes it back with her lips curved in a slight smile. ]

No, it's not quite the same. Strange to think they've replaced almost everything with a machine in this day and age. Even us, a little.

[blyat]

[To her first comment, Cain elicits a small snort of laughter. He'll have to take her word for that, although it's yet to deter him from wanting to try it. The foxtrot. Since she's made the comment already, and it's clear dancing holds some value — in knowledge, familiarity, or otherwise — to Peggy. So he'll let it rest for now, but he won't forget to pester her later. Or at least do his own research into how it works.]

Even us. Fuckin' bizarre, I mean, I've flown in spaceships and been on space stations but never had something like this in my body. [He reaches up to tap the healed scar at the back of his here where the implant is tunneled inside.] Or the blue thing in our chests, whatever it is.

[He knows someone once tried to cut it out and was not successful. Whether it's a piece of scientific engineering or actual magic, he's not the person to ask.

From somewhere inside, he hears his name called. It soon builds into a drunken chant of Cooltalk invitees who have noticed his marked absence. Cain sighs, takes back the vape pen, and rubs his face.]

Should get back. Already feels like I need another drink.

[revlon]

[ She's never been operated on in her life. Sure, she's had bullets pulled out of her shoulder and been impaled, but that all seems relatively tame in comparison to technology being threaded through your mind. Peggy parts her lips to reply — not with such intimately morbid details, but to ask another question — when she's cut off by the crowd at the party.

Duty calls, her sympathetic smile seems to say. She knew their little respite together would be short-lived, but it was good to have, all the same. Peggy nods in understanding then catches his arm with a fleeting touch (barely enough to elicit the bond, but there is a flicker of warmth). ]

Before you go...

[ She polishes off the last slip of whiskey in her glass then sets it aside on spindly table. Hands now free, Peggy opens her evening bag and pulls out her gift: a single piece of chocolate. It's small — in her day, it would be one bonbon in a box of many — but that's not possible in this future. Still, she wonders if a young man brought up on Mars would have had chocolate at all. It's why she picked it. Chocolate was precious during the war, too. ]

It's not another drink, [ she's saying, as she holds it out to him. ] But happy birthday, Cain.

peggy!!!! clutches heart

[blyat]

[Drawn to a halt, Cain swings back a step and drops eyes onto the small gift. At first, he isn't sure what he's looking at, but after a few moments the recognition dawns. He's seen enough imitation-chocolate in shop windows to match the difference. His own home had no hint of it, imports too highly priced even in the barest form and the soil too barren to support the cocoa bean's fragile life.

Immediately, he wonders how much she spent on it. Doesn't feel as though it's a gift he should take — assuming, knowing it's real chocolate.]

Better than a drink. [His fingers curl delicately around it.] You really shouldn't have. Thanks.

[Tempted to eat it now, he decides to wait until he can enjoy it.]

Still gonna get you back for that freebie punch you snuck in. [She'll know what he means.] Come meet me at the gym someday. Got it?

she cares so much...

[revlon]

[ Her smile grows a quiet fraction and she shakes her head gently at the rejoinder — you shouldn't have. No, but she wanted to. It's a gift not unlike a fine bottle of wine or whiskey but not nearly as grand. It suits their friendship that way, she thinks, that it comes down to a single piece of chocolate and a quiet chat on the fringes of a wild party. ]

You're welcome, [ she manages to reply, before he slides in with his next remark. It elicits one of her rare laughs, no less warm for its brevity. ] And yes, got it. I don't expect you to make it so easy next time.

[ And she's looking forward to it. Peggy considers him for a moment, fond, then inclines her head towards the doors. ]

Go on with you, then. I'll talk to you later.