[ closed ] avengers: civil dinner parties

[falcony]

WHO: mcu cast
WHAT: sam was there for the civil war. he's not about to let poor communication screw them all over again. (aka, sam's hosting a dinner for the whole family, no matter how awkward or tense it might be)
WHERE: horizon
WHEN: mid February

[ sam has hosted his fair share of abraxas-wide events, and has been a part of a fair number of family dinners himself. it's been a few months since he last hosted anything for the summoned at large, but the sudden appearance of steve, bucky, and peter have him thinking about his recent initiative. the way they're all being cut off at the knees by the lack of contact. he's only just now started building those contacts, only recently put the effort into keeping them up, but he's not letting this fall through the cracks. not when he hears about wanda.

so he sets a day, tells everyone when to show up. there's no reason to set up, no reason to set the table or prep the food - the horizon means it's all ready for him. all done up and cleaned and ready when they arrive. there isn't any specific reason for the meeting other than getting everyone in a room together, other than setting up safe, neutral territory for everyone to meet and get that first conversation out of the way. he knows tony will want to see peter, he wants to see wanda (and he knows steve and bucky will to), tony and steve will need to talk, and stephen...well. he needs to know all of them, doesn't he? they're a team, and if they're going to get through this, it's going to be together.

so they each get messages (or at least, tony and stephen both do - with tony's attached to a BRING WANDA, MAKE SURE SHE CAN GET INTO THE HORIZON), the food gets set out, and they will all eat. whether they want to or not. and sam is prepared to step in, if he needs to. ]




FEEL FREE TO MAKE TOP LEVELS EITHER OPEN OR CLOSED (DEPENDING ON THE THREAD).

THE ENTIRE HORIZON DOMAIN IS OPEN, AND SAM'S GOING TO LET PEOPLE WANDA/EXPLORE IF THEY WANT TO, EITHER BEFORE OR AFTER DINNER.

Comments

sam wilson - ota

[falcony]

[ sam can be found...pretty much anywhere (it is his house). and he's also going to be in Host Mode, on top of everything else. so feel free to approach him, or to assume he approaches you, whenever the opportunity arises.

but the best places to catch him for one on one time will either be in the kitchen either cleaning up or grabbing something for the meal or even just grabbing himself a beer, in the living room hesitating for just the briefest moment over photos of sarah and his nephews, or - near the end of the night - out on the porch. there's no reason for his horizon to change, no reason for the day to turn to evening to turn to night, other than the fact sam is probably going to want to sit out on the porch and listen to the sound of distant waves and watch the lightning bugs much later into the night than would normally be possible.

feel free to approach him wherever. whenever. he is the reason everyone's collected, after all. ]

i figured i would just drop this in here instead sorry about your notifications from me kjafahbkj

[piqure]

[ this was a good idea. on paper anyway. getting everyone in one place, as a team, or something like it and peter had always teetered on that line. within the avenger circle but not quite there himself - just your friendly neighborhood spider-man who wanted save a little bit more than a neighborhood, in the end.

it's a bit more complicated now, timelines and memories converging before branching out and who remembers what a consistent question. there's intricacies and delicate eggshells on things peter parker won't pretend to know, but there's still something anchoring in the idea that so many of them were here. not alone and he hates to admit how nice the idea may sound.

peter shows up early. early because he couldn’t keep himself still enough otherwise, because patience wasn’t always his strongest virtue, time and date noted and repeated. not when there’s so many familiar faces that will be there — not when there’s tony, alive and far away and peter’s stomach is in somersaults and knots since he’s heard the news.

so he’ll be stepping into sam’s horizon as early as he can without seeming outright rude, a fumble of nerves and steadying breaths before his mind can comfortably open that proverbial door.

it’s increasingly difficult to feel on edge when everything feels as kind as it does, here. aunt may’s felt the same way, and its a thought that makes peter’s throat catch, still a grief carried far too close. ]

Sam? Hi — [ he announces, ducking his head around a corner to where he hears movement, guided by hyperaware senses. ] — this is a really nice place! Is this your house back home? Do you need any help? [ even if the magic mind house has everything set…it's still important! to ask!]

YOU ARE VALID

[falcony]

[ see, on one hand, there is something to say about the things that peter is very obviously keeping from him. the lies he's very obviously telling. whatever it is that he thinks so worth withholding, considering at any given moment he can head back home and know what it is. on the other hand, sam realizes he's in no place to judge, considering he's the one in his horizon this early. even earlier, really, busying himself with things that aren't actually important. not when this place is magic, not when all of this can happen in an instance.

peter steps inside and very quickly finds him, and sam. well. sam's busying himself with something to do with food. cooking, in some form or fashion, but it isn't actually that important. which does let him - as soon as he hears peter show up way too early and fumble his way through the house - look up without any worry about what might happen to the food. ]

Oh, hey kiddo. Yeah. [ peter's not that young, but you know what he was somehow a lot younger when sam first met him and he's sticking to that. he reaches for a towel and wipes at his hands, looking all the proud, happy host he could be. ] Yeah, this is my family home, back in Lousiana. Is this really the first time you've been here?

[carmesi]

[she closes the door behind her and follows the obvious path into the living room, hearing the sounds of solemn conversation further inside. wanda thinks that if she's able to, she should check every room first as to not get blindsided. it is not in her plans, though, to immediately run into a familiar face (but what was she expecting?).

sam sits on the couch, and wanda feels a pang of guilt—wondering if the reason he's separate from the group is because he had been waiting for her arrival.

her voice is quiet, an abrupt disruption of the comfortable quiet, hoping to gently rouse him from his distraction.]

Sam?

[falcony]

[ okay, to be fair, it wasn't so much that he's been sitting there waiting for her for that long as it's...well. no. sam actually did settle here some time before (ten minutes? fifteen?) with the distinct decision not to miss wanda showing up. he'd gotten the heads up from tony, had known she would be there, but it's the first time he's going to have seen her. the first time in months.

sam's spent more time worrying about this than he has actually sitting here - thinking back to that funeral day, to stepping away from her at the stark compound, at moving his attention to steve and his impossible quest rather than...what? checking in on her? wondering, perhaps, if she was having difficulties at a funeral for someone she barely knew when the love of her life had died in the same war? sam has had months to think back on all of that. months to consider what he'd done wrong, what he should have done better. months, months, stuck in this fantasy world wondering if this was actually just his own hell to consider everything he should have done better.

for now, though, sam is more nervously waiting than he is wallowing in what could be an overbearing amount of weight. for now, he sits on his couch and wonders and maybe frets and maybe considers if he should be waiting outside on the porch instead. maybe out in the yard. maybe-

sam?

he looks up to see her and his reaction is genuine - a smile breaking out over his features as he stands, immediately moving to walk around the couch towards her. ]

Wanda. [ he says. and then without much warning or even though, he's going to make it to her and immediately pull her into a hug. ( he's been thinking about it for too long ) ]

[freightcars]

( It's later in the evening when Bucky wanders out onto the porch after him, a beer in either hand. He offers one out, then settles comfortably against the railing with his own. Sets his eyes on the water, the trees, the uncanny familiarity. )

Wellp. ( The classic lead-in to I'm about to say something stupid. ) Nobody killed each other, so I guess you could call this a success. Granted, I don't think it's possible to kill anyone in here, but... still.

[falcony]

[ he will take the beer when it's offered, and absolutely not at all say anything about how this all still feels familiar. right. bucky's stayed at the wilson house enough for this to, in any way, be new. but it's been so long since something felt familiar to home that sam. takes a moment.

then he'll take a long drink from the bottle. snort, once, and settle back in the rocking chair. ]

You can't. [ he offers for a moment, as if that's all he's going to say, before he continues. ] Die here, I mean. You just wake back up wherever you were meditating.

[ and then sam just sort of watches bucky for a moment, and then a moment longer. waits for him to ask what? or, if he doesn't, just goes ahead with the question anyway. ]

Did you talk to him?

[ him could be a list of people. most of them that were invited tonight. but sam will let bucky answer, first, before specifying who. ]

first meetings, ota.

[carmesi]

[her hesitation in coming to the horizon as invited is evident, but she is not about to air out those concerns to tony, much as things have slightly improved between them. she takes her time in going in, much after tony, until she embraces the idea that the deterrents are far less than the good she will find from seeing other familiar faces. besides, the longer she waits, the more her absence will be noticeable, and the last thing she wants is to make a big deal about it all.

(except it is kind of a big deal...?)

wanda is taken aback by how welcoming everything is. it's like a layer of film in the place, of warm oranges, like a cozy summer afternoon were the ultimate worry was whether there would be enough time in a day to laze about. she opens the front door and walks through, quiet, looking about curiously, wondering who she may run into next. there are pictures on the walls, family mementos, and she is starting to feel nervous—hands wrapping around each other, small steps inside as she peeks around corners.]

eyes emoji

[piqure]

[ it wasn't that peter had intended to check in on everyone who came in. except that he can pick up when someone else arrives, a small habitual ping on the periphery of his awareness, a tingle along his spine that sits on the back of his neck that has him turning his head to the corner before she peeks around it.

a part of him keeps expecting tony — expecting, or wishing, or dreading, he isn't sure. grieved for, and missed and it still felt a little impossible.

instead, his eyes land on hers and he blinks, a beat waited before he offers her a small smile, a wave. ] Hi —

[ a few steps shuffled forward. he remembers her, however brief their exchanges had been. an ally in a fight to save half the universe, magic bright red and resilient in the smog of that battle-filled landscape. a somber face at the funeral. but, more importantly, ] — you're Wanda, right? I'm Peter Parker. [ he offers by way of introduction, by way of not assuming she knows who he is, or by way of not wanting to ask anyone else if they remembered him. its not a fair question for a mostly-stranger, anyway, but he can't keep the hope out of his posture, either. ]

[carmesi]

[oh, this isn't a face she was expecting, her mind mostly focused on the idea of seeing others, first and foremost. did she even take note that peter parker was also here?]

... hi.

[wanda mirrors his greeting as this kid goes on and doesn't really give her much of a chance to try and piece by herself who he is among the myriad of faces of avengers-lined allies, as he goes and introduces himself.

still, the name is a bit... unfamiliar to her, even if the face is not. red and blue, nimble and young, soaring across the sky holding the infinity gauntlet.]

Yes, right, you're... the spider— [..something? mumblemumble. she makes up for it with abruptly offering her hand for a shake. way to go, catching her off-guard, peter!] I didn't know you were also here.

[which is, by all means, kind of expected, considering how divided they are.]

How are you?

[(in the end, peter looks and sounds like he's much, much younger than anyone she's come across, in the superhero realm, so she can give herself a chance to be less stoic and cold. helps her nerves, too, to practice having a normal conversation.)]

[freightcars]

( Ah, yes. He recognizes that look. That's the sight of a person who has no goddamn idea what to do with themselves when they're presented with all the trappings of a happy, loving home.

Relatable.

He wanders over, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, a slow amble. )

Hey.

( Last time he saw her was Stark's funeral. The time before that, she was helping him escape. They haven't exactly had a ton of calm down-time to get to know each other. No time like the present. )

Feels a little like walking into a magazine, doesn't it? One of those... fifteen ways to dress a turkey that your family's gonna love catalogs.

[carmesi]

[she'll give it to bucky, the ability of showing up most casually and speaking like there isn't a chasm of time and situations between their last meeting and now. it helps making wanda feel more relaxed—like there is no grand fanfare of sorts, like she can be passively out-of-place.

wanda smiles lightly at his words.]

I did not even think of that, but now that you mention it... [a look around herself] yes.

[her gaze return to focus on him, posture relaxing, eyes moving up to his hair, which she gestures to when she speaks next.]

It looks good on you.

[the new hair. besides, bucky looks ... more his age? (not however hundred years old he is—) a bit healthier? like something's changed, for the better, even if just minimally.]

[veracious]

[ The idea of the Horizon still baffles Steve, still makes his brain ache when he starts trying to wrap his thoughts around this place, around how they got here, why these exist and... every thing else. It feels like waking from the ice all over again, but this time there are faces he remembers, people he knows, people he cares about. The horizon brings him a sense of calm that reminds him of home, in a way, but it could just be that everything reeks of Sam Wilson, and the man has become such a foundation for so many at this point, that, well. Steve isn't surprised.

There's the smell of food in the kitchen, the sound of idle chatter in the living room and Steve finds he wanders away from it when he hears the door. Sure, Sam should be the one greeting all the familiar faces - he's neutral territory where most are concerned, but Steve needs a second to breathe, anyway.

Or so he thought. He'd expected maybe Strange, or the kid from Queens, but when he sees Wanda, he pauses in his place. She looks different now, but don't they all - worn thin by a place they hadn't intended to be, worn thin by the life they left behind. ]

I'd offer to take your coat, but apparently, it's summer outside. [ Steve's voice stays gentle, quiet, tired in a way that he shouldn't be but is these days. But there's the Brooklyn twinkling under his words, and in the curve of his smile. He doesn't know what to expect, just as he doesn't expect the way his chest squeezes at the sight of so many of them here, after everything they've been through, and more. ]

Hello, Wanda.

[carmesi]

[it's the sound of steve's words that have wanda peeling her eyes away from the walls and towards where he stands, stalwart as always, quiet in how he carries himself. this is the steve she had seen last—after thanos, after the world was made right again (but not for their own personal losses in the process). there is no mistaking him even by voice alone.

he barely gives her a chance to process his being there when he says her name in such a casual greeting, it's almost reason to laugh.

his name escapes her lips in a breath, barely a formed word.]

Steve.

[wanda hurries to remove the distance between them, arms tight around him as she allows herself to be comforted by his presence.

(after pietro was killed, it was steve who would come in to check on her as much as vision had; it was steve who looked after her, made sure she was doing alright. it was steve who made her feel like she was home even when her family and country was no more—in that quiet way of his, knowing when silence worked as much as words, knowing when her anger was just grief and emotion, not a true desire for action. he was someone wanda could follow, someone she knew understood her and didn't see her as a volatile, lost child. a big brother to replace the one she lost, even as she never cared to put a label to who he was in her life.)

she does not pull away from the embrace.]

You're really here.

stephen strange, ota

[sorser]

[He assumes, when there’s a call for everyone from their world to congregate, that there’s a reason for it beyond playing at social niceties. And for all intents and purposes, there is; Stephen can’t deny that there’s some use on getting everyone on the same page, untangling some of the more difficult questions born of knotted timelines. But over the pretense of a dinner?

The effort Sam’s gone to is appreciated, but filling the air with small talk is painful for him. Throughout dinner, his eyes sweep over each and every individual, as though they represented pieces of a far-flung puzzle that needed wrangling back into place. Assessing which territory they’ve found themselves summoned into upon arrival, where each one may stand, how dynamics between them could change course depending on that starting point.

Beyond the random remark, probably just a little sardonic, but good-intentioned nonetheless, he doesn’t have much to add; he’s happy to let others lead the conversation this way and that. At times, he’ll meet another person’s wandering gaze and give them a brow lift in turn.

When things are winding down, Stephen can be found reading a book at the table, summoned up on a whim with the convenience of the Horizon at his fingertips, with his focus no longer on the chatter between everyone else.

Later, he’s found in the kitchen with a hope to make himself vaguely useful.]

Need help with cleaning up? My magic’s good for it.

[Playing at clean-up is a redundancy in the Horizon when things could be whisked away with a wayward thought alone, but Stephen won’t make any assumptions. Give him something to help him feel less idle, please.

And finally, when the group has slowly submitted to outside wanderings, gravitating towards their own, Stephen can be found at the docks, seated and meditating. Cross-legged, eyes closed, the light sparkling across the water before him, his form hovers inches above the creaking wood of the pier. Against the sunlight, he strikes an interesting silhouette.]

[carmesi]

[it is likely to doctor strange's merit that there was the buffer of familiar faces and a (relatively) cozy dinner before he gets to interact with wanda. personally, it is not in her interest to do so, having made the conscious effort of avoiding eye contact (no, not even curiosity made her try and catch his eye when he wasn't looking). being cold comes easy to her, and there were faces and voices of people she would much rather focus on, anyway.

she is in the kitchen, cleaning up what most likely needs not the effort to be cleaned, but it's the easiest escape from whatever awkwardness may spring forth from conversation. despite knowing her place, so much has happened—enough to make her feel out of place.

a squeaky-clean plate gets placed on the rack to dry, and wanda's reply at the question takes a while. only when it's clear that he won't leave does she speak up:]

I got it.

[don't hasten the activity that will give her some time to gather herself!!]

[sorser]

[There’s no better way to earn Stephen’s attention than by purposefully shunning it, whether by avoiding eye contact or by pretending his seat at the table was a great void that no one was allowed to gaze upon. Wanda’s adept at both, and he isn’t sure he can blame her. The Westview incident hangs between them like a pall, or the figurative elephant in the room more apparent amongst those in the magical community — or rather, between an ex-Sorcerer Supreme and the Scarlet Witch herself.

But her avoidance can’t be indulged forever. Her arrival here means that they’ll need to work together in a world where war’s waiting to be sparked amid a powder keg situation; and given what he’s seen so far, if he leaves it on her terms, then they might not ever speak at all.

So. Ball’s in his court to either barrel through the awkward, or some perceived sense of shame, or whatever hesitation she has shored up around his very presence. Stephen doesn’t leave until she speaks, and after that, he continues to linger.]

You sure? That’s a lot of dishes.

[It wasn’t exactly a small dinner.]

Or maybe you’re still looking for reasons to avoid me.

[He doesn’t want to play the villain here, but he will call her out.]

cleaning up;

[freightcars]

( Keeping himself from being idle is exactly why he's doing it, too. Dinner sure was... sociable, which he's generally not — not beyond pleasant exchanges at farmers' markets. Considering the audience in attendance...

Washing imaginary dishes is a good excuse to focus on something with his hands.

Wasn't expecting company, but out of everybody present, he's definitely not the worst choice. A couple moments spent eyeing him, and then Bucky shifts one sink over to free up the rinsing half. )

Sure. Careful, though. People are gonna start thinking you're anti-social.

( Just a little bit on the dry, self-deprecating side over here. )

[sorser]

That, or they’ll think I’m bored.

[Which would be worse? The truth is, neither is accurate. Stephen is not overly social, but he is present when needed; and he is not so uncaring towards the others from his reality that he would call a good-natured get-together boring.

And yet there’s a reason he’s here, seeking to keep his hands busy. The desire to step away and make himself useful in more tangible ways, rather than dropping a random comment here and there, or float from one conversation to another like a ship with no anchor.]

What’s that say about you, though?

[It’s not like Stephen is close with Barnes, either, but maybe there’s a thread of solidarity between two men who go seeking to do imaginary dishes after a dinner on some weird, malleable astral plane.]

[piqure]

[ somewhere in the wind down and a few unintentional musical chairs later, peter finds himself seated close to none other than the resident sorcerer.

peter's nerves had wound down, in a way, or perhaps simply tired themselves out. it's impossible not to feel a little out of place at a dinner table filled with heroes - soldiers, witches, sorcerers - and not wonder how he can fit in here, too. he doesn't have his suit, he doesn't have his webshooters and this place doesn't have the sort of advanced chemical technologies necessary to produce any of that easily. they do have magic though and — ]

Wait, so anyone can learn magic, here, right? [ he posits the question to stephen apropos of absolutely nothing. no relevant conversation flowing through to catch. an obvious internal monologue spilling out in question before he's looking to dr strange, an obvious intent somewhere in the midst of his curiosity. hope you remember the page number you were on. ] Is it like the magic you do?

[sorser]

[Peter’s question is seemingly born out of nothing, shattering the quietude Stephen had comfortably settled into as he focused on his reading. He knows better, of course; he knows that mind of his was likely already churning at twenty times speed, and somehow landed on the topic of magic and how it would apply to him. And it was imperative that he voice that question aloud.

Still, it nearly startles him, evident by how his shoulders jolt just a little, how his fingers tighten on the spine of his book. Stephen glances up at him, brow furrowed… and exhales.]

Anyone can learn the magic native to this world, yes. Mine isn’t the same. The Masters of the Mystic Arts practice Eldritch magic, which pulls from the energies inherent in the Multiverse.

[A brow quirk.]

Why? Hoping to learn?

[veracious]

[ As it happens, Stephen Strange isn't the only one needing a moment of respite, of quite. The horizon Sam has welcomed them to feels akin to home in a way that is both comforting and makes him itch under the skin. It's so vastly opposite of what they'll walk out the door and return to, and that alone is enough to have Steve's mind spinning.

He hardly expects company out by the lake, but the man meditating while floating makes for an odd image in relief against the lake. He almost feels bad for interrupting, but the dinner had been politely cordial, wound tight and careful in a way the Avengers always tend to be. It takes time, he knows, for the tension to ease out, for things to find their place on the path again. Steve also knows its his job to help it along, to assist them all when he can.

But he's still recovering, in many ways, still trying to figure out just exactly who those people seated around that table need. He'll be whatever that is, when they leave this place and go back to the strange warring world outside this horizon.

He nearly overlooks Strange, even with the image he casts in relief against the lake. But floating magicians are among many things he's become desensitized to in his time as an Avenger. But to need meditation after a dinner party, well. ]

Was it that bad? [ They're not close by any means, and Steve barely got to introduce himself to the floating man beside him seeing as the world was practically ending when they met face to face. But dinner is a start. And maybe a wry joke, too. ]

[sorser]

[He hears Steve’s approach, the pier sometimes creaking underfoot. Stephen is more aware of his surroundings than most realize during his bouts of meditation, the without existing on the same plane as the within. And though he’s practiced at maintaining focus, a little wonderment wheedles into his thoughts — who’s coming to say hi? He can hazard a few guesses based on the tempo and weight of the steps alone, but the question verifies it.

He doesn’t open his eyes, but the man’s chosen approach of breaking the ice works well enough. It’s how Stephen likes to approach certain situations, too, mostly the socially convoluted sort — a dry remark.]

Been to many big family gatherings? It’s about on par with what I’d expect.

[And the comparison isn’t inaccurate; they do share a strikingly similar dynamic to a very strange, sometimes very dysfunctional family, though Stephen would consider himself the one of the more distant relations. Opening his eyes, he turns to look over his shoulder at Steve. How odd, seeing this presence standing here before him, when he had grown used to the memorializations not uncommon back on Earth.]

Weird. Not bad.

[And representative of so many variables to juggle at once. So many presences to consider in this world that keeps leaning towards the orchestration of war.]

barnes; ota

[freightcars]

( Bucky used to have a big family. Mother, father, three sisters, himself. Spent more time at Steve's than his own place as he got older, but he was still plenty familiar with big, awkward family dinners.

This is kind of like that, but if you orphaned somebody's parents and everybody but you could do magic.

So that's nice.

On the plus side, turns out he can get drunk here. That was a fun thing to rediscover. Nursing a drink helps. Gives him something to do with his hands, keeps him from spiraling and trying to slip out early. He sticks to the fringes where he can, unobtrusive, watching people talk — good-natured and amused rather than creepy staring, for the most part. Aside from that, he's easy to catch alone and corner into a conversation.

When the dinner part actually starts and an awkward silence falls across the table for too long, he can't quite bite back every remark. One eventually breaks through. )

So... we wanna take bets on who here pulls a sword out of a stone first?

( Pretty sure him and Wanda are disqualified. No offense, Wanda. )

[piqure]

[ peter doesn't realize it, but he's been keeping subtle track of everyone who comes in, a reflexive awareness that crawls up his spine and sits there. whether it was because he's waiting for someone particular or not is a completely irrelevant point. ]

Oh — [ he's only just passing by bucky when his attention catches and he's realizing that he hadn't said hello yet. that he hasn't really talked to him since the universe had been saved. hadn't seen his face since the funeral and now seemed as good a time as any, in this little gathering of a fragile sense of normalcy.

so peter steps forward, offers a little wave and a small smile by way of greeting. ] — Mister Barnes, right? Hi. [ they'd barely even met before (his metal arm was cool, though), and yet peter can't help but look for whatever signs of recognition he might see, a newly-forming habit he hasn't really been able to shake since arriving. ]