[ 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

[freightcars]

Who, Strange? Yep, had a nice long chat about him being mislabeled. It's a real touchy subject.

( He knows that's not who Sam meant. There are at least two more applicable hims he's probably referring to, both of them being extremely loaded subjects with very sensitive hair-triggers.

Neither of which he tripped over dinner, which he thinks is a good thing — but he's pretty sure Sam will disagree with that notion. )

[falcony]

[ no, that's not who sam meant, and the blank look that he gives bucky following that little comment is answer enough. he'd planned on following up, on asking how it went with tony, or steve, but he's not quite sure yet if it's something he wants to even push. so, for now, he just sighs and takes a long drink from his bottle, leaning back into the wicker chair. ]

You're like two-and-a-half months late on that. Strange and I have already talked it out. He agrees with me. [ no he doesn't, but he was exasperated enough not to keep arguing, so here they are. ]

[freightcars]

( Cue the most skeptical look his face is capable of making. It's a pretty impressive one. )

Does he? Should- should I go ask him real quick?

( Complete with a little nod over his shoulder in a vague that way direction.

Obviously he's not gonna, he's screwing with Sam, but still. )

[falcony]

[ sam meets the skepticism with a stubborn look of his own. ]

Go for it. See what he says.

[ because in this here game of chicken, sam is not willing to back down. it is after a moment that sam does decide to shift the conversation, because he knows bucky's avoiding the other thing. ]

Have you figured out what you're doing for your domain yet?

[freightcars]

( He gives Sam a flat look — yeah, sure, he believes you.

You're not fooling anyone, nerd.

But anyway — subject change, have a beleaguered sigh as he leans heavily against the railing. )

No. Not a damn clue. To tell you the truth-

( Pause. Nope. That's just sad. Head shake, change tracks, finish that sentence another way. )

Thought about my place back in Brooklyn, before and after. Didn't really sit right.

[falcony]

[ oh, oh, oh. nerd? really? says mr. i read j r r tolkein when it first came out? please. they both know who the nerd is here.

the subject change works, though, and he can see the full body sigh shudder through bucky. he does catch the pause in his response, curious about what he'd been heading towards with the to tell you the truth, but for now he doesn't push. ]

It's not like there's a deadline- you've got time to think about it.

[ a shrug, another drink from the bottle. ]

You are kinda lucky, though. For the first of us who got sent in here, our domains just sorta showed up. No building or choosing what we wanted - just our subconscious creating whatever it was our memoryless selves thought we should, or wanted to, have around. [ yes, sam is quite aware he got out lucky with that. about what it was he'd built here without thinking, about how the worst of his secrets laid out to bare were more about his family, the home he'd left behind. but others weren't, and now they've all got the choice on what they want to have, and that's not nothing.

there's a small pause here, as if sam's thinking about some of the domains he'd seen, and then he's shaking his head. ]

Now you've got a like, blank canvas, which is intimidating enough. And I mean. [ because he feels somehow like this is important to state- ] You're always welcome here, you know that already; but if you could make a little slice of wherever you wanted... [ a beat, just a small pause. ] What's that gonna look like to you?

[freightcars]

( Okay, so maybe Bucky is a low-key sci-fi fantasy nerd. Maybe he read so many cheesy paperbacks and saw The Mysterious Doctor Satan in theaters twice. They don't need to acknowledge this.

(There are several reasons he loved Wakanda, and at least one of them was how god damn cool it was.)

He pulls a soft, empathetic face at no building or choosing. Memory loss is something he can relate to a little too well.

He blows out a slow breath. )

To tell you the truth... ( Here comes that reluctant admission he clipped off a second ago — one he directs steadily at the scenery in the distance in a completely neutral tone. ) I had the idea I'd just hang around yours for a while. If that's alright with you.

( Because it feels closer to what he'd imagine, what he'd want, than an empty apartment or an army barracks. )

[falcony]

[ it's a good god damn thing sam does not know about these things, because bucky would (continue) to never live it down. all he needs is all that background info on bucky and it will be lifetimes upon lifetimes of teasing. he's not above it.

at the face bucky makes, sam offers a half-shrug. all things considered, it really wasn't all that traumatic for him. it was the after, that haunted feeling that something could get to him that way...let's just say, he feels like he might understand bucky a little better, where that aspect is concerned.

and no, okay, sam doesn't know that the words that follow are the clipped off admission. but he could take a guess. can read the way that bucky doesn't look at him, a specifically neutral tone. it's an offering, in a way. a request, an ask, and sam feels the need to smile pull at his mouth. ]

More than alright. You already know where everything is, so. [ he is definitely not smiling around the bottle as he takes his next sip.

and then, a moment later, he pulls the bottle away - struck with a sudden urge, a pointing to bucky with some kind of intensity, and looking suddenly very much like sarah when he says: ] No touching the gaming systems. And if you take something out, you put it back. I'm not your maid.

[freightcars]

( He tries not to think too hard about his first trip to the Horizon. He's been telling himself it wasn't real, that it was more like forgetting a dream, but it'd be a lie to say it didn't bother him a little. Kind of like having a splinter under his skin that he can't dig out. Either it'll get calloused over, or his body will push it out slowly itself over time.

Not a fan.

He's endlessly appreciative that Sam glosses over the acceptance and jumps straight to giving him some stern rules. It's a tactful subject change, it's the type of non-intimate bullshit he can grab onto easily.

His hands come up as if in surrender. )

Yeah, I get it. Don't leave imaginary crumbs on the imaginary counters. Bread in the breadbox. What kinda slob do you think I am, Wilson? ( A beat later, and he's mumbling to himself under his breath. ) I'm definitely touching the games.

wrapping maybee???

[falcony]

[ sam could imagine how much bucky hated that first time. just as he could imagine how much he would have hated knowing he was here, before all of this, but didn't remember. whether or not sam will admit it to doctor strange, in a way he's endlessly thankful for that explanation. for knowing, as weird and time warpy as it is, that at the very least they aren't being wiped of their memories (permanently and set loose out into the world.

for now, it's almost too easy to fall into old habits. old, in the sense that sam feels like it's been months (it has been, for him) since he's been here - on this porch, looking out into the lousiana night, bucky. who still manages to just fit. ]

I dunno, man. I haven't seen your place, and you can be whatever slob you want in your own place. But her- you clean up after your imaginary self. [ which he hasn't, but he's also not super invested in that anyway.

the mumbling has sam sitting up, though, brows up. ] You're not touching the games. How do I know you won't just snap them in half with your super soldier- [ he is absolutely gesturing to all of him. ] Everything? No, you can make your own games. Like parcheesi or whatever you old farts play.

yeyeye

[freightcars]

( Parcheesi; he snorts, turning his attention back outward again. This time with a smile, and a companionable say to bump Sam's shoulder with his. )

I love Parcheesi.

( It's a faux-defensive mutter.

Not that it matters. What matters is they're good, and he's got a place to come to when he needs to. That'll do.

And then there's a beautiful gay sunset in front of which their silhouettes drink beer and happy tears are shed. The end. )