nysalogs | so shine bright tonight.

Entry tags:

so shine bright tonight.

Who: steve rogers (

starspangle), peggy carter (

revlon) and some of peggy's closest friends (u kno who u are)
What: peggy's birthday is on the 9th, but they're celebrating on the 8th with an intimate dinner
When: april 8th
Where: at the rogers-carter residence
Warning(s): possible cavities from the sheer sweetness of this entire event tbh

❚❚❚❚❚ i. ARRIVAL

[ It's the weekend and it's just a couple of days before Peggy's birthday. Steve Rogers has never hosted a party before, let alone a party for his partner, but life is all about trying new things and being the best boyfriend (hard to think of himself as such, still, even after all of these years, but he likes the feeling) he can be, and Steve takes both of those things very seriously.

So he sends out invitations and makes plans - nothing fancy, nothing big, because everyone's just survived one of the worst events since crash-landing on this planet, and also because he knows Peggy isn't the kind of woman who relishes in big, flashy parties. He certainly isn't.

A quiet dinner with her closest friends feels right.

The small, cozy apartment is well-lit and tidy. When you enter, you come up a small set of steps to enter the main space - a kind of living-dining room combined. It's cute and comfortable and somehow reminds you of an older time without actually being dated. There are a couple of poetry books stacked on a side-table by the couch, and leaning against it is the possibly familiar, but very much noticeable circular star-spangled shield. Around the room you'll find drawings on the wall - sketches, meticulous and detailed but with a loose, free spirit - of the New York City skyline, Brooklyn, the Empire State Building.

There's a delicious scent coming from the kitchen area. If you brought a gift, or some wine, you can leave it at the table with the single bottle placed there already and make yourself at home. Chat it up with the host, or with other party guests until the guest of honour arrives. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ ii. DINNER

[ Considering the smallness of the space, it makes a little more sense for guests to grab food from the 'buffet-style' arrangement set out on the dining table and find any place to settle and eat. Soft music plays in the background, something jazzy and a little big band-y. There are enough plates and cutlery to go around (thank God), and there's more than enough food and drink too. Most of the ingredients are very similar to Earth's, but still manage to have a ... strangeness to them that feels uncanny. It's the alien-ness of this place. Thankfully it doesn't affect the taste.

Steve's made some assortment of meat, stew, rice, and salad - not combined, don't worry. It's very vaguely Japanese-ish, if only because his culinary sensei happens to be You Watanabe, but he's picked up a couple of tips from some of the locals too. He's no Gordon Ramsay, but he's a good student and the food should taste pretty decent.

Cake (bought at a local Olympian bakery) will be served at the end. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ iii. A LITTLE WINE, A LITTLE COFFEE

[ After dinner, guests are welcome to mingle and stay for however long they'd like. Music continues to play, and everyone should feel happy and full. It's a pleasant night and the company is delightful too.

At one point, Steve will offer guests coffee or maybe some of that wine from earlier - he's not entirely sure where it came from but it seems all right, and while Steve can't get drunk from it, it tastes fine enough. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ iv. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

[ more of an ooc note, but! please feel free to leave your own top-levels and mingle amongst each other! these prompts are really, really general and are mostly meant to set the tone of the party. pick a prompt and play with it, take some cues and make your own, etc etc.! if you have any questions, absolutely feel free to hit me up! pls have fun and wish our best girl a happy birthday! ]

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[ Peggy Carter, in all honesty, hadn't been expecting anything for her birthday — it's not that she's forgotten, or hasn't kept track of the days, but she's never been one for much fuss and she's never quite celebrated it since before the war. The last time there was any sort of to-do, it was the spring of 1940, she was being courted by Fred Wells, and her brother was still alive. After? Muddy fields, trenches, masquerading as a civilian in occupied France, maybe a sip of smuggled bourbon shared amongst the Commandos two weeks after the fact. Nothing special.

So it both is and isn't a wonder that Steve manages to surprise her with this. She's a spy, for God's sake! But she hadn't suspected a thing; an invitation to dinner, he'd said, and she'd taken his word for it. She'd come home to their apartment dressed for it in a purple beaded number with a question of Are you ready to go? on her lips — and found their sitting room full of friends. It's a small miracle she doesn't whip her gun out of her handbag, bloody hell. She doesn't jump but she does swear out loud before dissolving into laughter. After the initial shock, it's clear she's immensely touched by all of it, the attention to detail, the intimacy of it all, that Steve had managed to gather some of the people she's held near and dear since arriving on this planet. And after sweeping in to give him a kiss — not quite chaste, but polite enough given present company, thanks — for his troubles, she gladly joins in the festivities. Maybe you approach her right after, while she's still buzzing from the surprise of it all.

Maybe you catch her sitting on the edge of her own coffee table, plate loaded up with food and a glass of wine perched precariously at her side. She is definitely talking with her mouth full — probably about the framed sketches on the walls or the shield in the corner, if you ask nicely. But if you want to play with it, she may just defer to Captain Rogers on that front.

Maybe she's hovering in the kitchen, unearthing the bottle of whiskey she keeps in a cupboard and helping herself to it before sharing with the others. She's more than content to lean against the counter and sip on her glass and be drawn into conversation or just look around the room, a helplessly happy sort of smile on her lips. It's an expression she rarely wears these days, but it speaks volumes to what this means to her.

Or maybe, just maybe, she's switching out the music on their record player for something a little more upbeat like it's an invitation for people to dance in the bit of space they do have. She just might do it herself, swaying absently to the rhythm. It's a slice of normalcy that feels utterly foreign after all the chaos sprung on them — no one in this room has remained unscathed — but this might just be the breath of fresh air they need before diving back in.

And Peggy will personally thank each and every person for coming with the most heartfelt sincerity. ]

Edited 2018-04-07 13:09 (UTC)

[A surprised Peggy Carter is a rare thing. It's sweet to see, and Claire has no regrets about leaving Wyver soon after getting the invitation. A week(ish) in that city once more was more than enough to confirm, without a doubt, that it's simply not for her. Nice to visit, maybe, in short doses. But Olympia, for all its flaws, is her new home and the people she loves most are here.

Claire gives Peggy a bit to greet and be greeted by the other guests before she steps in to press a kiss to her cheek, gloved hands taking hers. Her hands haven't been a pretty sight since that little hostage stint, but by now she's bought enough pairs to match any outfit. Still, she smiles brightly.]

Happy birthday, darling.

[ The gloves make her pause, but not enough to dampen the mood or even register in her expression. Peggy had been part of that rescue operation, she'd seen the state the captives were in when they arrived; she's managed to put that behind her some — or, at least, enough to carry forward in the weeks after. She's glad to see Claire (and Jamie, of course) in better spirits and not only well enough to be here, but well enough to travel.

Wyver! Good Lord. Don't think she won't ask later in the evening, Mrs Fraser. ]

Thank you, [ she smiles back, cheeks high with colour. ] It isn't until tomorrow but I suppose Steve knew I'd be more suspicious then. [ Sincerely, ] It's good to see you. Please tell me you've had something to drink.

Indeed, and I wouldn't have known at all if Steve hadn't told me. [She gives Peggy a look, playfully disapproving. It simply hadn't come up, had it? Difficult to talk about birthdays and such when there seems to always be something going on. In this case, the celebration is a nice distraction from recent events. Wyver was that, too.

Except Claire spent most of the time uncomfortable and wishing she were back here.]

Actually, no. I didn't want to start the party before you settled in. Shouldn't Mr. Rogers be fetching the drinks, as the host?

[Kidding, kidding. Mostly.]

[ Surprisingly enough (well, perhaps not for Peggy, given how well she knows him), when it comes to more intimate gatherings, Eggsy hangs back. He can't think of birthday party like this one from his old life (not one that didn't involve classic shit like minigolf with his mates, training down to Brighton and a cheap chippy, or getting off his face at pre-drinks and pissing about at a shite club). It's, well, classy, though it shares the warmth of previous affairs.

He waits until after dinner to chase Peggy's full attention. The music picks up and so does his confidence. He learned to dance to impress one girl in particular, but it's been a useful skill for far more occasions. The corners of his mouth tick up into a smile. ]

May I have the first dance, [ A beat. His voice lowers. ] partner? [ amusement sparks in his eyes, certain that only she knows exactly how much that means. He wonders if she has gadgets hidden about the house, same as him, before thinking: Of course she does.]

[ For the entire evening, Eggsy Unwin is on top form. Punctual for once in his life, with a neatly wrapped present in hand. No swearing or innuendo, well-mannered, and most certainly not becoming as spectacularly sloshed as he was at the Gala, thanks. After a wee panic over the dress code (and an emergency consultation with Ms Roxanne Morton), Eggsy settles on smartening up for the occasion. No snapback to disturb his styled hair, with a sharp left-parting as Harry had taught him; navy slacks and a matching blazer, paired with tan Oxfords; Kingsman glasses hooked on his blazer pocket, not recording but there should them all the same. Rox said to wear a button-down, but he opts for a plain white shirt. More modern that way, y'know, and he can't be going completely uptown now, can he? The only proper hitch is the white bandages covering his right hand and snaking up under his sleeve. However, he appears plenty capable of lifting bits and bobs.

Perhaps you find him slipping a book off the shelf, only to see a few others fall after it to fill the space, leading him to finally let an oh, for fuck's sake loose under his breath — or, more cheekily, you see the young lad lifting a certain captain's shield with his left hand. He's ambidextrous, for the record. And, boy, does he ever want to play with this toy.

Otherwise, he seems happy to drink and mingle. Once the music starts, he'll offer his hand to anyone to dance. "On the mend, promise," he says, with a wink, if there's any concern over his apparent injuries. Near the end of the night, he tries his best to sneak off to the kitchen with the dirty dishes to do as many for their hosts as he can before he gets caught. Might as well use his light fingers for good, on this singular occasion. ]

[Well, that's a snazzy looking young man. Snazzy, but perhaps not the most graceful, as Claire steps over just in time to see him making a mess of the bookshelf.]

She'll have your head for that one.

[There's the slightest of grimaces after the quip--it shouldn't bring Ned Stark to mind, asleep in stasis, but it does. Claire's quick to smile and reach out a gloved hand to help push the books back. Some people wear bandages, some people wear stylish gloves the whole night.]

Here.

[ He recognises her from the network (Claire Fraser who works at the Sanctuary), his knowledge of Peggy's life (a close friend, too close for him to feel any right to talk to, when they'd initially been keeping work and home decidedly separate), and the recent mission (a hostage in that same, horrible trap). He notes the gloves immediately. Might just be an old-fashioned thing, but he's trained to assume the worst.

Seeing her now, hearing her posh lilt is something he was prepared for until he went and cocked up Carter's bookcase. And in truth, he's a bit nervy about the party. And even more nervy about being nervy about the party, when Peggy's never given him a single reason to feel nervy, so it's really quite unfair to her to be nervy in the first place. ]

Fuck. [ ah. ] I mean, shit. [ He ducks his head, recovering just enough to finish a sentence in his rougher accent. ] Sorry. Thanks for the assist.

[ He doesn't bother opening the book — he's a nosy parker, not an avid poetry fan — attempting to slot it back in beside the others that Claire holds upright. ]

[She's not a vain woman, not truly, but while the worst of the damage from the days held hostage are healed, her hands don't look quite right with all those missing fingernails. Not a sight anyone wants to see during dinner when she doesn't even like looking at them. And so, Claire keeps the gloves on, and she's glad to let everyone else think it's just cold fingers or old habits.

His swears do get a chuckle out of her, clearly not fussed by the language.]

All that and you're not even going to open it?

[ At her chuckle, some of the tension dissipates from his shoulders. It helps that the books return to what he thinks were their prior positions, too, at least according to a sharp second glance. No harm done. ]

Think I ruined the mood. [ The corners of his mouth tick up into a sheepish smile. ] Besides, I've just found lovely company — or the lovely company found me. Can't be sticking my nose in a book now, either way.

[Lovely gets a lift of a brow from Claire--she's old enough to be this young man's mother--but she says nothing of it. Friends of Peggy get some leeway when it comes to Claire's bluntness. At least for now.]

I see. I don't think we've been properly introduced. Claire Fraser.

[She offers her left hand for a shake. She's a doctor. Of course she's noticed his bandaged right hand.]

[ If he thinks anything of her lifted brow, he doesn’t show it. There’s plenty more cheek in him, even when he’s attempting to behave.

However, the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. Clever, kind, or both, he shakes her hand gladly. ]

Eggsy Unwin. [ a full smile this time. ] It’s nice to meet you, Claire. You’ve made some announcements about first-aid training, right?

[ said with the feeling of I thought I recognised you from somewhere. ]

[ Emma hasn't been to a birthday party since before the storm. it's a welcome distraction from everything that's happened lately, maybe even a legitimate excuse to enjoy herself without feeling guilty. after she received Steve's message, she took the time to pick out a gift from a local seller, choosing the talisman for it's hopeful meaning. it's wrapped neatly and set aside when she comes in, and rather than risk injury to any partygoers with her cooking, Emma brings along a bottle of whiskey as her contribution to the gathering.

for the first time since the kidnappings, she's also dressed up, having chosen a fitted black dress with a few delicate lace accents, and a matching pair of heels comfortable enough to spend an evening in. it feels surprisingly normal to go out and celebrate a friend's birthday, and from what she's learned so far, Peggy Carter is a woman worth celebrating.

now that she's in a better mood than she has been, it's easier to take in the warmth of their cozy apartment; everything from the little touches that tend to date them to the paintings that remind her of the city she and Henry lived in for a year. inevitably the shield is what catches her attention, and while Emma knows better than to touch it, she does lean in to get a closer look.]

I was never a big fan of shields, but this one kind of sells me on them.

A pleasure, Eggsy. [Cute. Peggy and Eggsy. She seems surprised he remembers that announcement, but it's been a very long time for her.]

Ah, I did. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's fallen to the wayside. [What with the riots and the torture and all. It's needed more than ever now, perhaps, but Claire just doesn't have the room for it.]

For now, at least.

[ percy doesn't really have any settings besides casual (aside from questing, which really means exhausted and in desperate need of a shower/actual food), but he makes an effort today. what that really means is he wears a button down shirt instead of a t-shirt on top of jeans, but you know. an effort!! you might catch a glimpse of hand-painted beads or a flash of gold from the brooch he reluctantly pinned onto his camp necklace about the collar. he looks a little awkward when he arrives, a small wrapped box in his hands that he'll leave at the designated table (and when peggy opens it, she'll find a weird abstract glass paper weight; percy has a good feeling she'll recognize the craftsmanship).

he's down to mingle, sort of, so he might stop to say hello to anyone he knows. otherwise you might find him looking around the place, pausing to look at the drawings of new york city with real longing, particularly lingering by the image of the empire state building. this is a party, so he'll try not to draw attention to his bout of homesickness. or maybe you catch him piling an absurd amount of food onto his plate, apparently unperturbed by the alienness of it all. he doesn't have any trouble cleaning his plate either #teenageboys. or maybe you'll notice him eyeing steve's shield critically, because it's.....cool, leave him alone. he'll accept coffee but hang back for the dancing, happier to watch. ]

Edited 2018-04-08 00:19 (UTC)

[ he has to say, he kind of likes her better for not being too prim or proper to be willing to answer questions with her mouth full like it's no big deal. it'd give his mom a heart attack, but it also makes her seem a little more -- approachable. ]

Okay, [ he's saying, ] I've gotta know what that thing's made of.

[ he's gesturing at the shield, of course. ]

[She spends a fair time talking to Percy, sitting with him, clearly glad to see him. Since a rescue she hardly remembers she hasn't spent time with him, really. Not in person. But she has appreciated his texts and calls. They've never failed to bring a smile to her face even on the days when she's not feeling at her best.

He's a good kid, demi-god or not.

When others might choose to dance and she spots him off to the side, well. Of course she's going to come over, giving him a little nudge with her elbow along with a smile.

Will she say something? Not yet.]

[ there's something almost impressive about pulling off a birthday party in all the chaos this world has sent their way. but equally impressive is Peggy's appetite, and her ability to balance a full plate of food and a glass of wine.

since Emma has her own plate, she steps closer - but she'll still keep a reasonable distance from the couch, because she doesn't trust herself with food when there's fabric so close by. grace isn't about not talking with your mouth full, it's not dropping food on the furniture.]

Henry and I lived in New York for a year, the sketches remind me of our place in the city.

[ it's nice to see claire looking -- well, normal, and that doesn't just mean healthy. seeing her -- and the others who'd been taken -- just chilling out and enjoying themselves helps him relax a little too, unwinds some of the tense anger and worry and guilt he's been carrying around.

but still. when claire nudges him in the side, he takes a full step back, hands raised with palms facing her. ]

No. [ no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he knows what she's up to!! ] I don't do dancing.

No? [She echoes the word, managing to look quite innocent despite him knowing exactly what she had in mind. Clever, this one.]

You're telling me that if your Annabeth walked into this room right now and asked you to dance, you'd step back like you were being held at gunpoint?

[ he manages to look pretty outraged at the question, pointing a finger at her accusingly. ]

Okay, first of all? That's not even fair. Second of all, she's not here. And third of all, honestly? I've stepped on her toes enough times that she'd know better.

[ which isn't entirely true, actually. but that's an admission, right there. ]

[Boys. Glad to see some things are universal: they're easy to get riled up when you talk about their girls. Claire bites back the grin that threatens to appear on her face.]

So, clearly, you need your practice.

You don't want me stepping on your toes either, believe me.

[ okay, he'll let his hands drop now. but he's still! standing back! ]

[He has a point, given that she's wearing gloves to keep the state of her fingertips under wraps, and... well, she's sure he ate about twice his weight in food.

And yet? She's not giving up.]

What if I ask nicely?

[ she never does seem to give up..... ]

Are you actually going to take no for an answer?

[ SERIOUS QUESTION ]

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so shine bright tonight.

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