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Daycycle 116 [ November 13 - November 26 ]

daycycle 116

[Nov 13 - Nov 26]

[OOC Plotting for this Daycycle can be found here.]
[The Charity Ball Entertainment post is here.]
[This DC has been extended through 11/26.]

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty

No Special Troubleshooters have been selected for a mission this morning.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.

Matt Murdock's office will be assigned to defend the most recent Specials accused of treason. He will not be allowed to contact the traitors directly, but he will be given the task of preparing his cases. He has 48 hours to prepare.

Jack Harkness has been selected to plan the entertainment for tonight's Charity Ball, thanks to the popularity of his performances during the Alpha Talent Show a few days ago. When he asks The Computer for help, several specials are assigned to him. Izzy Lightwood will be his event planning assistant and "Stiles" Stilinski will assist in MCing the night's event. Due to their popularity, all Specials will be approached about being auctioned off for dances in order to help raise money by Jack, Izzy and Stiles. They will also be asked if they're willing to take part in specially planned choreographed dances. Dance lessons will be provided for those that require them during the afternoon hours.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will begin at 1800 at the Alpha Museum of Fine Art and will be hosted by The ~~Humanists~~ Alpha Society for the Arts. Tickets to the event are 1000cr and can be bought up until an hour before the event begins. Attendees have been given special permission to wear Old Reckoning clothing for this event only, as long as it is the same color as their clearance level. Specials may notice that many of the Alpha Citizen's outfits have gotten key parts of Old Reckoning clothing wrong, with buttons instead of sequins, for example, or men wearing ties that are much too long and go to their knees. Alpha's Very Special Forces will be present to ensure the safety of those attending.

An entire wing of the museum has been cleared as a makeshift dance floor. In an attached room there are several tables covered in white tablecloths and set with the crystal and china that usually only graces Violet citizen tables. Along the wall is a massive buffet made with real food and including an elaborate ice sculpture. There is a bar in the corner where Alpha's finest spirits are being disbursed freely. For the first hour, the focus is on the food and mingling. The music playing is calming and instrumental. There are some that steal the dancefloor for a slow spin, but the majority of the attendees seem reluctant to move away from the buffet.

And then at approximately 1900, Jack Harkness will take the stage and begin the evening's real entertainment.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

Threaded | Flat

morning

Today is the day of the Charity Ball which Lydia wishes she could say was her suggestion to her fellow Humanists, but can only claim to have fueled the fire by encouraging it and promising the other Secret Society members that she'd do her absolute best to make as many Alphas, Special and otherwise, want to attend. So when she gets up in the morning, Lydia takes care to wash her hair especially early so that it has time to dry and look decent without having to be pulled back by the time she heads to the morning briefing. She's stopped hiding in her corner behind the pillar, instead leaving that for the few Specials she's shown the spot to who might want to be there. Instead, Lydia is at the front of the group, feigning as much dedicated attention as she can muster up to fake for them as they make their announcements.

She wastes absolutely no time getting to True Alpha after the meeting and she doesn't open right away, instead filming a quick video announcement which she posts without any encryption to the network. It's the most terrifying thing she's done in recent memory, because everyone can see it...and that means she's effectively invited her attackers to come right to her and she knows it. Any Special who knew Lydia when the A.S.S. first formed and shot their horrible video message; any Specials who know her especially well now and are aware that she was the chosen victim of the attack meant to prove their point of just how unwanted the Specials were — oh, how times have changed — knows it, too. But she holds herself with a confident, carefree, and maybe a little bit excited demeanor — real clothes, though. — so anyone else will be none the wiser. She just has to hope that the rising popularity of the Specials and the (hopefully) decently sized group of people that should arrive to help and to be styled will keep her safe.

Once the video's up, she goes ahead and opens the store, spending the rest of the morning running her sale and hoping like hell that nothing bad happens. Today is supposed to be a good day. She really, really wants it to stay that way.

afternoon

Lydia has a quick lunch before slipping back up to her room in the half hour break she's given herself in the day. There, she draws her hair up in its style for the night to get it out of the way; that way, there's one less thing to worry about later. She figures it's best to give herself some wiggle room to get ready, just in case the time she's officially allotted to help style people for the event isn't enough. If enough people show up and not enough volunteer, after all, it will be. Lydia won't need long to get into her dress, but if her hair is out of the way, then all she'll really have to worry about tonight is getting her makeup done.

Then, she heads back to True Alpha to reopen it, not for business but, as promised, to style. She's set up a few chairs she's dragged in from the main part of the Commissary and lined them up at the front of the store so that women can sit, get their hair done, and go. Elastics, bobbypins, and hairpins are laid out on her desk to be used at will by volunteers and Alphas alike.

evening

Once the last person she's got time to help style leaves the store, Lydia closes down True Alpha again, buys her ticket into the Charity Ball, and heads up to her room once more, this time to get her dress, makeup, and perfume to take down to HQ. She'd rather get ready the rest of the way with her friends because maybe she's an entrepreneur and maybe she's dating an older man, owns a business, has risen in the ranks at Alpha Complex, but she's still a nineteen year old girl who didn't get to go to her senior prom. This is as close as she's going to get and it's the only time she'll be able to get ready for a dance with Allison again. One last hurrah, and all that.

Lydia and Gucci the Petbot make their way down to HQ with a backpack bursting full of samples from the store, makeup she made and didn't sell to the Free Enterprise jerks with the crappy business proposition, and her dress carefully folded over her arm. Lydia slips into a bathroom in R&D just before heading the rest of the way to HQ, changing into the dress since there's nowhere really to change in privacy in HQ. She'll be found there around 17:00 doing her makeup and reminding herself that this is for the Humanists and after everything is said and done, she's a lot more likely to be able to turn a Special or two so that she can finally officially complete her initiation with the group and be a true member of it. Everything is going to be fine.

charity ball

Never one to blend into the crowd when she's got an opportunity to shine, Lydia took some liberties with her gown. Gold is the same as yellow, isn't it? Sure it is. She'll be heading up from Specials HQ shortly after 18:00 — obviously she has to be fashionably late, what kind of savage do you all take her for? — and will spend a portion of her evening with the highest bidder. The rest of the night, she can be found flitting back and forth between friends and acquaintances. She'll be schmoozing any fans of her products — or of her, since that's apparently a thing here now? — and any time she isn't, she'll probably be found with Matt.

morning

Zatanna is up early and ready to go, excited about the idea of being able to get this fugly jumpsuit off for a night and wear something that makes her feel like a freaking girl for a change. Zee misses feeling pretty. Doesn't every girl when denied the opportunity to look her best? Today is going to feel like it drags on forever, she knows it, but she gets up early for breakfast, having taken her shower the night before, and maybe the food is usually crappy but it feels like it tastes just fine today. That's almost definitely just because she's so excited for the Charity Ball later.

She hangs in the back during the morning meeting, but she does go. She also goes straight to her troubleshooting station. Today, Zatanna is going to be on her best behavior so that she doesn't get herself arrested or something stupid before she can finally get out of the stupid jumpsuit. This is like being old enough to go to prom, isn't it? She's not screwing that up. No. Way.

afternoon/evening

Half of the reason that Zatanna got up early for breakfast was that she could eat enough to last her most of the day. She'll grab dinner later, but there's set hours on getting her hair done at Rob's friend Lydia's store and Zee's not going to miss the window because Artemis and M'ghann aren't here and she wouldn't have the slightest clue where to begin trying to do her own. Zatanna typically wears her hair down around her shoulders or, occasionally, pulled back in a ponytail. But this is a special occasion and, okay, maybe secretly she's hoping that Robin will find a way to sneak in.

After getting her hair styled, Zatanna quickly buys her ticket and then heads back to her troubleshooting station to spend the rest of her shift there fidgeting with anxiousness, barely able to keep from quite literally bouncing off the walls with her excitement. It's almost time for her to be able to feel like a normal human being again for a few hours and she can hardly stand the wait.

At the end of her shift, Zee heads to the Commissary for dinner and there's a spring in her step on her way to Specials HQ from there after changing into her dress in her room as a pit stop on the way. If she sees Robin, she'll have to ask him if he's coming and see if she can maybe plead her case to get him to consider trying. Otherwise, she'll just be hanging around down there, half because she can and half because...well. She doesn't know which room is Alcide's and this is the only place besides the Commissary that they both know for sure. She's sort of hoping he'll come down here to get her, but if he doesn't, she can head up to the ball without him and just...wait awkwardly outside and hope not to be stood up. Not that she thinks he'll do that! ...but, well. Teenage anxiety.

charity ball

Not only does she get to look pretty for a change, but there's freaking food. Real food. In a buffet. And she sees REDs just like her having right at it without so much as a question. She'll be easy to find because she'll be making plenty of little trips to the buffet throughout the night.

Oh...ohhh, the fact that they're serving alcohol indiscriminately is not lost on Zatanna Zatara, either. Zee's never been allowed to drink; she's too young to drink back home. But apparently, that's not a thing here. Her father, Batman, Red Tornado; everyone who has ever been in charge of her is gone. If she's going to be at this thing; if she's going to be stuck in this stupid place forever, she might as well make the most of it. Why not treat this like a prom in the movies? Drinks, food, a handsome date way too old to be a romantic entanglement bringing her so that she doesn't feel like a loser, but affording her the opportunity to go off with Robin if he comes, or be available to any particularly attractive other Alphas she happens upon. ...her standards may drop as the level of her inebriation rises...

Most of Buffy's day is spent being anxious about the Charity Ball. She's volunteered to be auctioned for a part of the evening for a good cause. The last dance she'd gone to had been her Prom and it had actually turned out pretty nice even if it had started a little rocky. Her dress for the evening is simple, but it's got a high enough slit she can fight in it. This was always a concern in her former life and she figures that it can't hurt to be ready to fight here as well. She's wearing heels as well, because she's short and she doesn't care or know where the heels came from, she's just happy about them.

When she's not with whomever won the auction, she'll spend it on the dance floor or mingling with her friends. She's in high spirits, but that doesn't lessen her awareness. She's never been to anything like this that went well so she's suspicious that this will. She'll be happy to dance with anyone that asks politely and grabby hands will not be tolerated.

Edited 2016-11-14 15:33 (UTC)

morning

Before the morning meeting, Cisco goes to buy tickets for the Charity Ball so that he doesn't forget or run out of his time. He's promised his roommate Prim, who has only been here a day or two, that he'll buy her way in because she can't afford it. Cisco doesn't make a ton of money right now, but he makes enough and he hasn't spent many, if any, of his credits to this point, so he's got plenty. Who is he to deprive the poor kid of having a good time on one of the only nights since he's arrived that it's been allowed legitimately. Those stupid Citizen Improvement events are just that. Stupid. This is kind of cool, though, especially since they're doing it to get donations for the Bot Processing section of the R&D Sector to be rebuilt. It's the least he can do. He'd liked that job while he'd had it. It feels good to be able to do something positive for it in the wake of the last awful experience he had in that part of the sector.

He'll grab some coffee, remember what the coffee caused last time and promptly dump it, and settle for a Bouncy Bubbly Beverage for breakfast while he sits through the morning briefing. He's in especially good spirits because he and Gracie are going to the Charity Ball tonight and, look, he likes to pretend like he's a real ladies man, but Cisco's never dated a ten. Lisa was like easily a nine, but being a bad guy kind of takes her down from ten. Gracie, though? He's excited to spend the bulk of his night with her.

afternoon/evening

At work, for the first half of the day, it's generally fairly quiet and he's putting the finishing touches on the cold gun that Tony helped him finish. If it works, then they're in business and he can start mass producing them for Specials. By tomorrow, he should be able to start running tests on the thing, but when Lydia closes for the day, Cisco takes the opportunity to head back down to Specials HQ after lunch. He's trying to help Stiles better organize his board so that the guy can start putting pieces together and Cisco's hoping that the project will be helpful for moving them one step closer to finding out how they got here and, subsequently, how to get back home.

charity ball

About an hour before the ball, Cisco heads back up to the Wagon Wheel and takes a shower, shaving and pulling his hair back into a ponytail before getting dressed. He cleans up nice, if he does say so himself. Once Prim is ready to go, Cisco will escort her down and then he'll meet up with Gracie, he hopes, to spend a little time with her before the auction starts and he has to fulfill his end of the deal. He's not super looking forward to it, but at the same time, he's not dreading it, either.

The thing is that Cisco's met a handful of other Alphas who aren't Specials, between work and his mission with Stiles to protect Gabi after the whole mutant registration debacle. They're, largely, not that bad. And Cisco is a friendly guy. He's open to spending time with anyone who wants to spend time with him tonight. Plus, heck yeah booze and real food for a change!

morning

While most people are probably looking forward to today, Derek is not one of those people. He wakes up alone after having fallen asleep with Katniss, for one thing; not a great way to start his day. Admittedly, in spite of the fact that he fell asleep drugged out of his goddamned mind when he'd had to be subdued in the Commissary earlier the previous day, it's the best night's sleep Derek's gotten in longer than he remember. Waking up to a cold other side of the bed started Derek's day off on a bad foot, but he pushes on because what else can he do?

In addition, Buffy's talked him into taking her to this stupid Charity Ball, even knowing he has no interest in being there for many, many reasons. But she gave him the puppy eyes. What was he supposed to do, say no? Doesn't work that way when pretty girls give him puppy eyes, regardless of his interest or lack thereof in them romantically. It's a secret he'd like to keep but doubts he'll be able to for a whole lot longer, but he's always been a sucker for pretty girls giving puppy eyes. He can't help it. So he guesses he's going to this stupid thing after all.

At the morning meeting, he's his usual surly self, but he keeps his composure anyway because he is not looking to be pumped full of more bullshit drugs against his will for acting out. He'll be a good little Alpha. For now.

afternoon/evening

Derek spends the afternoon just getting through the day the way he does every day, like it's nothing special because, to him, it isn't. A day that started out lonelier than he's willing to admit and is going to end at some crappy dance where he'll be surrounded by the creepers who post in that secret forum someone keeps forwarding to the Specials every week.

He's quiet at work, but as pleasant as he can force himself to be, as per usual, and when he finishes his shift, he heads to the Commissary for dinner before retiring to his room to read until Buffy forcibly drags him out of there for the event. ...translation: gives him the puppy eyes again. Yes, he's bought the stupid ticket. Yes, he's gotten himself some Reckoning clothes, and yes, he expects it but some little part of him is hoping that maybe she'll forget. Or take Alcide and leave him out of it. No such luck.

charity ball

He likes to think he looks better when he puts a little effort in and if Buffy's going looking the way she does, the least he can do is not look like a freaking slob when she's on his arm. Once he gets there, though, the buffet of real food is enough to get Derek pumped about being there. He's not all that interested in the festivity itself, but alcohol that can actually have some effect on him and real food that he can look at and identify on sight rather than that nasty goddamn soylent? Yes please.

At some point, he'll have to spend some time with an Alpha who, for whatever reason, paid to be in his presence instead of just coming to his service firm like a normal person, but he's willing to do it because he's being given an offer he kind of can't refuse. So it is what it is.

He'll be in high spirits between the alcohol and the food, so for the most part, Derek's pretty approachable throughout the night and will be happy to indulge anyone who asks, so long as they're not a dick about it, with a dance. He'll be a lot less discriminate as the night wears on and he gets a little more alcohol in his system, because Derek is a lightweight. Usually, he could drink a bar out of business and never feel a thing, so this is kind of new and different for him. It's worth enjoying himself if he's got to be here, isn't it?

Edited 2016-11-14 02:05 (UTC)

Morning

Matt is very aware of the ball tonight, but he's got a big workload. Lots of people have been arrested for treason and yesterday had been a wash since he'd had the vision implants removed yesterday. He spends his morning working with his alpha assistant, dictating notes for her and having her read things out loud to him. He is experiencing a little bit of a loss because while he never adjusted to the vision implants, there were things about them that he appreciated (like being able to see Lydia). Despite the adjustment, it's a productive morning for him.

Lunch & Afternoon & Early Evening

In the commissary during lunch, Matt has his sunglasses and his walking cane again. He eats a bit, but he's still thinking about work and even the ball tonight. He eats quickly and heads back to work to get some more done before he heads to his room to take a bit of a nap before the ball. He's lucky, unlike the girls, all he needs to get ready is to shower and to shave. When he's finished, he still has that stubble that he always has. He's been dressing himself blind (and tying a tie) for years so that doesn't take long.

Charity Ball

Matt is dressed for the ball. He's got his sunglasses on and his walking cane. He's in a good mood. It's been an exhausting day, but a good one. He knows by the noise in the room that there are a crowd of people here, and he's glad to see that people turned out for this. He suspects the draw of something actually, potentially, fun has a lot to do with it, but it supports a good cause regardless. Much of his time is spent with Lydia, but when he's not with her, he'll spend his time on the outer edges of the room. He's not up for auction, but he'll be happy to dance with anyone who asks politely.

Morning

It's early when she wakes up but not any earlier than the time she normally wakes up in her own room. The big difference between those other nights and this is that, for once, Katniss actually feels like she got some sleep. The nightmares had been there - that she won't ever doubt - but come morning, she can barely remember them. Instead she's more aware of arms holding her tight and a warm, hard chest behind her back. She's safe (or as safe as she can be, as safe as she'll ever be). That makes a difference. Derek isn't Peeta (no one will ever be Peeta) but he had trusted her during the night not to harm him. He had soothed her fears away as he lulled her back to sleep.

And like the horrible person she is, she doesn't wake him when she slips out. His roommates are back and that means that Katniss can't stay there. She quietly and carefully slips out of his arms to hopefully make it back to her room before any of her roommates wake up.

Afternoon

Her sister is still here. Knowing that. seeing that, makes all the difference in Katniss' behavior. With minor exceptions, she continues to act the ideal citizen She even eats a little soylent during her meals (just a little, just in case her food is still spiked with drugs). Katniss goes to work and does her job to the best of her abilities (which still isn't very well) and doesn't ignore Derek. Not really. Then again, she doesn't exactly make much of an attempt to talk to Derek either. She should but she's awkward and uncertain in this kind of situation.

Not a good person. Never a good person. But at least she has a chance to protect her sister again. Maybe things can work out differently this time.

Evening

Katniss doesn't want to be at the ball. If it weren't for Prim insisting on going, she wouldn't be there at all. She has no date and no interest in having a date. She has no desire to participate in the auction or to dance with anyone or even eat all that much (being still wary of the food here as a whole). Most of all, she doesn't want to be wearing the dress that she's wearing. The initial shock of seeing it in a store that afternoon hasn't yet worn off. But if the glitches are memories, she refuses to let anyone else dare wear the dress. She doesn't know how it got here and she doesn't know why but it had cost Katniss a good chunk of her credits. For Cinna, for his memory, it had been worth it.

She does her best to find a corner where people might not notice her. It's a corner where they might not notice her but she can keep an eye on the room. Prim occupies most of her attention and if anyone gets too friendly with her sister, she won't hesitate to interfere. But she also watches other people in the room. She watches them have fun ( a little enviously) and wonders how they've adjusted so easily to this place. Now that she's not drowning in her pain, now that she's not drugged with happiness, she's starting to think a little like her self again. It might be the setting, and the horrible reminder of the Capitol, but she can't help but wonder how much of a game this really might be.

Definitely not party friendly thoughts.

Morning

Gracie is running at double and triple speed today. She's beyond excited about the ball and it shows in her morning broadcast. She trips over her words and talks too fast. Not only does she get to wear a gorgeous gown, it's her first date with Cisco. On top of that, she's never been to a charity ball before. She spends the rest of the morning putting together video broadcasts of various sorts.

Lunch & Afternoon

At lunch, Gracie is far too excited to really eat much. She does have a Bouncy Bubble drink (because she needs more energy) then spends most of her afternoon talking to others about the ball, interviewing them about it. Honestly, talking to everyone, specials and alphas alike, is one of her favorite parts of her job. She takes off early to head to True Alpha to help Lydia out with makeup and hair for everyone. She makes up people and does hair with the same excitement that she's been doing everything else that day.

She does her own makeup at hair while at Lydia's shop as well. She pulls her hair all over one shoulder and ups her makeup game from a simple cat eye, to a cat eye and red lips. Once Lydia tells her to go, Gracie rushes off toward her room to get her dress.

Charity Ball

Gracie arrives at the ball just a few minutes after it starts. She loves her dress and feels a little like a fairy tale princess in it. She can't keep the smile off her face as she walks into the room. She looks for Cisco early on and she'll stick with him a good part of the night but the buffet with real food is super exciting. She's going to make sure and hit that up a couple of times before the night is over. She's up for auction for a portion of the night, but she'll be pleased to dance with anyone who asks nicely. She's going to dance as much as possible and enjoy every, single minute of this night.

After a stop in the cafeteria for breakfast (minus the coffee, which he still can't bring himself to start drinking again), Adam Parrish spends most of his day on the ground on his back or hunched over the hood of a vehicle and covered in the grease and grime that comes with working on the motorized transport vehicles that make Alpha a better place to live in. He works all morning and well past time when he should have stopped. Most people have already left for their apartments when he finally clocks out.

He grabs a late lunch and eats it on his way back to his apartments to take a shower and get ready for the charity ball, which Ronan of all people has convinced him they should go to. It's something good, Ronan has said. It's something normal, Ronan has said. And given the advice of Parker, that crowds of people are safe, Adam is inclined to go of his own accord as well.

The attire for the night for Adam is simple. Adam isn't one for overdressing. He doesn't much care for suits. And about an hour into the charity ball his necktie will be loosened and the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned to give his neck room to breathe. The cuts on his face are healing, the bruises a strange purple-yellowish color now. He'll be close to Ronan at all times, not quite ready to be on his own yet. However, there will be times when Ronan is distracted by beer or food that people can get Adam alone. Otherwise, be prepared for both boys being together.

Morning/Afternoon
Barry spends the majority of his day in the Forensics Lab trying to catch up on the work that has managed to pile up in his absence and with Lydia's departure to greener - or yellower- pastures. He can be found there buried under paperwork and lab samples until the clock strikes 1700.

Lunch [Closed to Felicity]
He makes a point of escaping his mounting tasks in order to walk down the hall to Encryption. He hasn't seen or heard from Felicity since returning and he can't help but think that has something to do with Oliver's disappearance yesterday morning.

He can only imagine how she's taking that. It doesn't help that he has to say her name twice once he reaches her cubicle and still doesn't get an acknowledgement. He moves a little closer, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Felicity?"

Even though Tony spent many years being the life of any party he deemed worthy of attending, as he walks into the charity ball, he almost looks as if he would much rather be anywhere but here.

To be fair, though, charity balls had always been one of those necessary evils that he never quite learned how to enjoy. Sure, some were fun sometimes depending on the woman (or man) that he'd spend his time with after making the necessary appearances, but for the most part... All of this reminds him of a part of his life that he isn't all that sure he even misses. He misses Rhodey, and Pepper, and Happy. He misses his houses, his bots, and his cars. He misses the freedom of being able to do whatever the hell he wants without being watched. But stuff like this - the social obligations and the weight that his name carries? He definitely doesn't miss that. At all.

Which, that part is actually refreshing; to be able to arrive and not have a hoard of paparazzi trying to drown him with the flash from their cameras. Tony always knows how to turn on the charm, he learned from a frighteningly young age how to hide any discomfort so that the public could only see the smiles and the charisma he seemed to ooze, but god he hated all of that most of the time. Scotch helped to numb him out from most of it, but now that he doesn't have scotch to drown in, at least he doesn't have to deal with the press trying to get shots of him.

He would still much rather be working, though. Ever since his conversation with Steve yesterday morning, Tony's mood had settled somewhere between cranky and down altogether, seemingly too focused on his work at Lydia's shop to even give himself breaks (and yes, he has most definitely been avoiding HQ as well), but since he had said he'd attend the ball... Well. Here he is. His hair has been styled back, and for the first time since arriving in this place, he actually doesn't hate his clothes. the suit he's wearing is something he doesn't mind wearing, and the tie at least covers most of the glow of the reactor, so that's a good thing in his book. He knows he'll probably be dancing for a while, if someone bids on him for it, so until that moment he kind of keeps to himself for the most part as he tries to just...focus on literally everything but the thoughts that keep running through his head.

Clint... is impressed, really. He's doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but he is impressed. Of course he'd explored Alpha, scoped the place out, and seen they had some pretty nice areas scattered around, but a lot of them were level-restricted to Greens and ups and he wasn't sure they'd do something this fancy for the lower ranks. Throw them a party, maybe, but probably something like an open buffet line in the normal commissary, not crystal chandeliers and the opportunity to wear real clothes.

While the original plan had been to wear a set of (extremely comfortable) red pajamas to this shindig, reluctant common sense - and a near-argument with Allison, who seemed a lot more "in tune" with fashion than he'd ever cared to be - had shifted Clint's sartorial finery in a much more "usual" direction. He'd still eschewed dressing up as much as he possibly could, though, which would be absolutely no surprise to anyone who'd known him at home (he'd come to most of Tony's parties wearing flannel, after all), but the PJs were just too big a risk in the "fuck you, Computer" department. Too standing-apart from everyone else. Significantly more likely to land him in trouble since he'd be going against the herd in a much more major way, especially after Peggy's arrest since he is - was - her coworker. But he'd put his foot down at a suit of any kind, with the results being a return of his usual flannel ways and a pair of well-fitting, but not tight, black khakis and solid-but-not-clunky black boots. He doesn't look fancy, but he thinks he looks all right. Pulled together, at the very least. Not disrespectful. Just someone who expects to do a lot of moving through the night and wants to be comfortable doing so.

As one of the ones reluctant to pull away from the buffet line, he can be found there for the first while, eating until he's comfortably full and then mingling as part of the crowd. After awhile, he'll move out into the more open spaces, looking for people to talk to and trying (and succeeding) to look more interested in being there than he really is. He might even be dancing sometimes, part of a deliberate ruse of showing the Computer how happy he is with all of this.

Hey, at least they get free food.

Edited 2016-11-15 22:33 (UTC)

[ ooc: some time after this ]

After a few more drinks, Tony essentially stumbles out of the museum, liquored up to the gills, but it's not like he really cares. There's a brief moment where he looks back towards the door, contemplating on staying only because there's more booze he hasn't consumed just yet and clearly he's not drunk enough if he's still standing, but he can't do it. He can't stand even the idea of being in the same room as Steve anymore. He can't see him smiling, or dancing with others. He can't be there when he dances with someone for the 'last dance,' especially considering he had helped him practice, and Tony almost doubles over when he realizes for the millionth time just how damn stupid he had been.

But no, stupid isn't a good enough word for this. Because apparently Tony didn't have enough with letting Steven Grant Rogers break his heart once in a HYDRA bunker in Siberia; apparently Tony is enough of an idiot to let himself think that he could have actually--

"Maybe later … we can try out those dance moves you taught me. See if they’re any good."

Tony's breath catches in his throat, making him feel as if he's choking, but he lets out a sound as if it's supposed to be a laugh while he walks. Because it's laughable, isn't it? How could he have thought that Steve would actually feel anything for him? Not only that, but how could he have been so stupid to actually let himself feel anything for Steve? Even if no one would probably believe it, up until Siberia, there had always been a sense of admiration towards Steve. It's one of those things that Howard had all but embedded into his son and sure, it could have probably been considered a sort of crush, especially when he was younger, but it never felt like this. Ever since he and Steve have been trying to repair their friendship, for some goddamn reason Tony has found himself gravitating towards him in a way that he hadn't before, and now

And now it feels like his heart is in a million fucking pieces. The alcohol is helping to numb himself out to some degree, but it's not enough to stop that sense of suffocation from making him feel like he can't breathe. He wants to call Rhodey; he wants to get into one of his cars and drive away; he wants to just fly until he can't remember anymore, but he can't do any of those things.

Worst of all, he can't forget. He can't get out of his head the way that Steve looked at him. The way he was speaking, the way he suggested an actual dance. The way he didn't even flinch as Tony reached for his tie, other than to tell him that if he was going to pull on it then he should...

He can't forget the way he peeled away, as if realizing what he was doing. As if he had finally come to his senses, and had managed to cut Tony at his knees just by pointing out that he should go. The memory is enough to make his chest ache, as if the pain is more physical than anything else, but other than briefly massaging the spot next to the reactor as if that will make it go away, he doesn't stop walking. The anger, the frustration, the self disgust - it's all propelling him forward, far away from the fucking ball, no matter how sluggish his body feels.

It's not until he reaches the waterfront that he stops, but only because he has to. His body is swaying, the open air amplifying the effects of the alcohol, and god, he feels sick. It's hard to tell if it's from the impending hangover or if it's just at himself, but he leans against one of the railings and stares blankly out at the water.

If he jumps in, would he be able to just disappear and go back home? There's a moment of temptation that has him grasping onto the railing as if he's ready to fling himself over it, but he doesn't. Somehow he manages to stay in place, almost too quiet and still, but it doesn't last long. As he stares out at the water, he starts to hit his left fist against the railing, his movements almost robotic. It's slow at first, barely a tap that almost resembles a sort of anxious tic, but as everything that happened plays in his head more and more, he hits harder and harder. He probably looks deranged, but he doesn't care. It's the last thing he's thinking about. Especially when he finally hits hard enough for a sickening crack to fill the air around him, and the pain that explodes along his hand is enough to pull him out of his thoughts.

In some sick way, though, as he looks down at the way his hand is now shaking, it's almost satisfying to feel that pain. It's a distraction, in some way. And he caused it, rather than letting someone else hurt him all over again, and for now that's enough to calm him at least for a moment. He should probably go to Medical Services and get checked out, but he doesn't bother to walk back; instead, he just lowers himself to sit on the floor, staring out at the water as he rests his broken hand on his lap.

Maybe if he stays out here, it will finally clear his thoughts and he can get rid of the weight that is making it hard to breathe.

Maybe if he wishes it hard enough, he can finally go home before he has to wake up and live with this all over again.

When he takes those first steps away from Tony, despite how quickly he walks, Steve feels heavy, like he's lugging around a sandbag stuffed to the seams with questions he can’t answer and certainties that he can’t ever obtain. He also can't shake the feeling that he's teetering precariously, and that he's in imminent danger of losing something — maybe that something was Tony, or maybe it was himself. But he has to shake this. The night isn’t over for him. These people, all of them, are relying on him and the rest of the VSF to keep them safe tonight, and if because of ... whatever this is now, Steve gets distracted or drops his guard and a bomb or shooter gets through, he won't ever be able to forgive himself.

So Steve does what he always does when he’s at an impossible impasse with his own emotions. He compartmentalizes and marks it as something to process another day. Because right now, he can’t afford to abandon his post, physically or mentally. So he forces himself to be fine, literally willing into existence a sense of calm and normalcy that shouldn’t be there after what he’s just felt for the first time.

It just means that sometime later — maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week — it’ll come rushing back, probably when he’s alone. When it happens, he’ll probably forget how to breathe, he won’t be able to sleep, but to Steve … that feels like no price at all, if he can keep going now. He knows how this goes because he’s done it before, every time he loses a soldier, or a civilian. And if he can do it then, he sure as hell can do it after a confusing conversation with Tony. It feels almost easy, when he thinks about it from that perspective.

His auction, his first dance, going back on duty, announcing the raffle, going back on duty again, dancing with whomever asks, and finally, pulling a name out of a hat. It feels never ending as he’s being handed off from one person to the next, but Steve smiles and nods and listens to everyone. Why wouldn’t he, when there’s absolutely nothing wrong?

A few times that night, he catches a glimpse of Tony from across the room and his eyes follow that red suit to the bar, and he keeps looking because Steve just wants to make sure that Tony's-

-what? That he’s okay? or that the bar’s still open and they’re letting Tony get yet another drink?

A lot of people have seen Stark drunk before, but Steve isn’t one of them, and the more drinks he sees Tony knock back, the more worried Steve gets. At some point, the concern is almost enough to propel him across the room. He wants to grab Tony by the arm and tell him to stop drinking. That he’s had enough liquor for one night. That if Tony’s doing this because of something he’s said, he should know that he isn’t worth the trouble.

But he can’t do it. He can’t risk getting that close again. Tony will be fine, he tells himself. He'll say something to someone, and Tony … Tony has always been absolutely fine without him.

In the end, Steve’s caught between feeling like the night goes on forever, and that it’s gone by too fast, because when he actually leaves the Charity Ball, his feet carry him quicker than he intends them to. He can already tell that it won’t take a week, or even a day for his body to force him to feel what he’s been neglecting. Hell, apparently it’s going to happen right now, and he needs to be somewhere else when it crushes him.

When he’s back at the Wagon Wheel, instead of getting off at GREEN, Steve keeps going until he exits on the outdoor track attached to one of the highest floors of the building. The view at night is breathtaking, especially after curfew, but Steve isn’t here for that. He’s here for the solitude, for the cold air, and for the relentless wind he’s counting on to pierce his skin.

He’s not ready for this. But at least he can be alone when it happens.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Steve walks to the railing and suddenly, he has to grab it just to keep himself from shaking. His next inhale is sharp and clipped short by a sudden feeling of panic.

What’s wrong with me?

His fingers go to his tie, tugging it loose and undoing it after all the people who felt compelled to touch it today without so much as asking. When he finally pulls it off, he stares at it for a moment before wrapping it like gauze around his right hand. What Steve would give for a punching bag right now.

But he doesn’t have one, and Steve can feel his eyes starting to blur.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he can still remember it — the moment he’d imagined how it’d feel to taste the alcohol on Tony’s lips. It hadn’t really been hard to come up with a flavor. It’s idiotic, but Steve couldn’t imagine Tony as tasting anything other than sweet. And god, he’d nearly leaned in and kissed him. How the hell is it even possible that a desire like that could sneak up on you? Unless-

Unless it hadn’t. Steve laughs, as he wipes away the moisture in his eyes with a finger. He sees and feels it now, all his childishness and foolishness. He did this to himself. It’s no one’s fault except his.

Friendship, that’s what he’d told himself he wanted. That’s why he tried this hard to make things right, and if he was being fair, that’s how this all started. All he’d wanted was to make up for breaking Tony’s trust, and for keeping from him who killed his parents and why. To do that, Steve started paying attention to Tony in a way he’d never done before — bringing him coffee, giving him a place to rest, making him real food to eat. But it was really their circumstances here that made him look at Tony differently for the first time.

Steve had never actually imagined there would be day in which he and Tony would switch places in the world. That he’d have more money and a bigger spotlight and Tony would be trying to blend in and work silently for the good of the cause. It was a humbling experience (and that was putting it lightly) because frankly, Steve had never thought that Tony could do it. Live without the fame and fortune. But not only was he doing it, he didn’t crack jokes, he didn’t whine, he didn’t even complain, and day by day, Steve realized that beneath all the money and charisma that Tony liked to hide behind back home, there was a person beneath it all that he’d only seen glimpses of before. And as Steve felt his feelings mixing and re-arranging, he’d built a wall around himself, and with each day, he’d cemented one rationalization after another that yeah, friendship was what this was all about.

In retrospect, the idea that everything he felt was simply friendship was laughable, a theory that could be pulled apart as easily as cotton candy. But now, while he can refuse to think about it, Steve can’t deny it any longer. He wants to push and shove what he’s feeling into the furthest corner of his heart, but if there’s something to shove to begin with, then the feeling is already real. Undeniably, unmistakably real.

God, he sees the allure of wishing that none of this was. He can imagine how it’d feel to wish this was some kind of mistake. To wish that somehow, he’d been drugged again and that just maybe, this feeling is just a blip on the radar and that come tomorrow, the waters would be clear once more. In a way, being able to wish those things would have been it’s own kind of morbid relief. At least then, he’d be able to know that he doesn’t want this — and that he doesn’t want this so much so that he’d be willing to deny reality to do it.

But he can’t. He doesn’t want to wish it all away, and the thought makes Steve so angry at himself, because then what the hell does he want? Why had he walked away? What was he so damn afraid of?

His hands are gripping so tightly onto the railing now that his knuckles have turned white. The wind is picking up and it’s cold, and Steve closes his eyes and laughs in frustration because god, even feeling cold reminds him of Tony. But before he can even recover from the images of that memory, he feels a sharp sense of shame impaling his chest.

There’s a difference after all, between knowing what’s right and coming to grips with yourself.

Growing up in alleyways of the 1930s and 40s meant Steve saw a lot of things, including hate crimes, not that they’d called them that back then. But he saw people getting beat up for a lot of reasons, sexuality being one of them. What’s wrong with you? he'd hear someone yell, before the fists rained down, and Steve had always been too committed to righting every wrong he’d ever witnessed not to interfere. That usually means he got beat up too, for telling someone to stop. But that stopped him from interfering again, and again. He always got back up.

The hard part back then, was what came after. When someone would thank him for trying, and he’d tell them he was “Just tryin’ to do what’s right.” And “C’mon, let’s get you outta here.” Everyone deserved to be safe, but Steve never did anything past that. The government had told them that being attracted to someone of the same sex was an illness. That it was something that you were supposed to go to the doc for and recover from. It wasn’t until after battle of New York that Steve had learned otherwise. That back then, the government had gotten it wrong and that hell, they might have even made it all up to begin with.

But that part of it — the part where Steve believes that everyone deserves to be who they are, and to feel safe and treated with the decency and respect — that’s not what’s up for debate tonight, nor will it ever be. That belief isn’t what’s making him so mad.

No, not mad, furious. And that anger starts with the fact that suddenly, he feels small and wheezing and weak, like he’s laying bloodied in the back of some alley wondering why God made him this way. Whether he wasn’t good enough to fight for his country. Whether he really was a mistake. And he’s struggling, struggling so hard to get up, to stand his ground, but this time, there aren’t any bullies to fight.

There’s just him, and he’s delivering the beating to himself this time.

Ha, Steve laughs when he realizes it, swallowing as his eyes start to blur again. It's not being weak that makes him angry. It’s the fact that he can see the right path — hell he can even see the righteous path right in front of him, and for some stupid reason, he can’t take it. In his head, Steve knows there’s nothing wrong with him. That this isn’t his fault. That god, this isn’t even a fault , and that he shouldn't doubt himself, or doubt his friends by doubting their reactions.

He inhales quickly, a silent sob escaping his lips as just a breath of air.

There really is a difference after all, between standing up for what’s right and accepting who you are. Steve’s spent his entire life doing the former. He has no practice when it comes to the latter. And try as he might, Steve Rogers isn’t perfect, even if that’s what a lot of people want to see when they look at him.

There’s a moment of calm when everything seems to stop. His thoughts and his heart are calming down, so tired from the race they’ve been running against each other, and Steve gets a chance to just close his eyes.

All his life, he’s just been waiting for the right partner, simple as that. Waiting, not looking. Maybe it's a little old fashioned, but Steve has always believed that when the right person came along, he'd be able to tell. Even if it would take him a little while.

It just never occurred to Steve that that person might be Tony. Someone who’s been right in front of him this whole time. Something clicks, in the back of his head when he thinks of it like that, but that puzzle is meant to be solved another day. Today, he’s shaking his head, brow furrowed, eyes still closed and hands still gripping onto the metal rail too forcefully. There’s a reason why his original plan was to wait. Steve doesn’t have the time or the interest to go looking for love. In the grand scheme of things, his own personal feelings are just background noise, unimportant in the light of everything that’s bigger and more deserving of his attention. And that’s where his attention needs to be right now. He’ll give himself the rest of tonight, and that’s it. He can stand here and die in the cold for all he cares. Come tomorrow, he’ll walk death off, and get to work on breaking those four Specials out of that damn prison.

Edited (small wording tweaks) 2016-11-28 14:28 (UTC)

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