[closed]

[wingedman]

who: marvels. lots and lots of marvels.
what: cast dinner!
when: forward-dated to april 15
where: a community center somewhere in the inhabited city
warnings: ...crazy superheroes eating dinner.

Sam starts preparing the food early in the morning; Bucky and Steve have come through with something that's more or less cow-shaped, and Sam starts by slow-cooking a shoulder and both sides of ribs. All of the side dishes he's contributing are things that he's prepped after work earlier in the week - potato salad, noodle salad (are you noticing a theme here?), slaw. There's a pecan pie waiting to be baked later whenever it can be fit in the oven. He's leaving the kitchen open for Wanda (and possibly Loki; he's still not sure about that).

By dinner time, there's a truly ridiculous amount of meat ready - not just the ribs and the shredded shoulder meat, but hamburgers, something close to steaks, and a few other selections, all barbecued to perfection. He's roped a couple other people into doing the rest of the setup - hauling tables and chairs into place, arranging the food buffet-style. By the time everyone else starts drifting in, things are looking pretty good, and the aroma of food starts to fill the room.

[ooc: mingle-style post! you know the drill, toplevel, tag around, etc. Feel free to take your time, it's forward-dated for a reason.]

Comments

[ikols]

[ It reeks like Feast Day in Asgard, so of course Loki does his own thing to add a bit of diversity to the miscellaneous meat-fest.

Dressed in jeans and a green hoodie, minus the horns because those tend to freak out This Type Of Crowd specifically, he attends salmon fillets with lemon pepper, garlic and salt, mixing up a marinade of soy, brown sugar, water and veggie oil before grilling each pink slab until golden brown. He cooks like he knows how, two years left to himself in Manhattan meaning he dove into all the different dishes that Midgard had to offer and soaked up the cooking skills needed to replicate them. It was probably a bad idea to come to this dinner but no one can say he didn't put some degree of effort in.

He can be found in the kitchen or later mooching on the fringes of other conversations, nursing a coffee. ]

[starspangled]

[it was just a matter of time, really.

steve has heard about loki, this loki, from others, a mixture of warnings and uncertainties and reassurances that left him with only one real conclusion: he needed to talk to him for himself. steve lingers in the doorway of the kitchen, watching him so closely that loki can undoubtedly feel the weight of it.

it's just that every time steve thinks nothing can surprise him, he ends up at a fish fry with loki.]

Is that the same kind that people eat raw?

[gotta start somewhere.]

[ikols]

[ This guy's face confuses him. It's like knowing a lyric from a song and never catching the title, something elusive lingers in the back of his memory. Have they met before? No, he's certain they haven't, and yet ... ]

Most sushi isn't actually raw, the fish is sometimes lightly smoked.

[ Meeting like this is refreshing when the subject matter of their conversation is so far removed from the usual madness that brings Loki near any Avenger. It's warm near the sizzling food, the grounds smell sweet with lemon-zest, and the young Captain's eyes look like they haven't seen as much as they have on Earth-616.

He's also cuter, which is a bonus for everyone. ]

Are you having some? [ This Loki owns an accent that Steve's doesn't, curling in the corner of a mild smile as he glances at his full grill of fish and amends, ] People think it's poisoned. It isn't.

[divulsion]

[She never expected to find herself cooking a meal with Loki. She wasn't an Avenger when his alternate self invaded New York with the Chitauri army, but she remembers standing in the doorway of a local bar, watching the television coverage. Remembers reading in the news how he'd terrorized people. Later even remembers what Clint had said briefly about his experience with the Asgardian.

In spite of all that, Wanda has to admit that this particular Loki seems different. She's not certain she can trust him yet, but he hasn't lied to her about anything, nor made any threats. For the sake of keeping the peace it seems a small thing to share a kitchen with him. This dinner is about getting to know one another so...that's what she'll do. With an apron keeping her clothes clean, she stirs the soup she's been cooking for the last little while. She dips a spoon into the broth to taste it. It seems off but she can't quite pinpoint why. After a moment, she grabs another spoon, dips it in and then turns over to Loki. With so many main dishes it had seemed best to prepare something lighter for those without a supersoldier appetite.]

It's needs something more but I can't pinpoint what. What do you think?

[ikols]

[ He keeps to his own half of the kitchen for the most part, deeply and quietly amused that two of the most powerful folk around are making meals for the rabble the old-fashioned way; the hipster in him loves it. The godling in him stays silent for fear of becoming a bother and having to leave. When Wanda approaches him, crossing the unofficial boundary, he watches her for an apprehensive moment before lowering his attention to the spoon. Hum. Hesitating, he sips from it and leans back to return her personal space, licking his lips. ]

Lemon? Just a little to sweeten the aftertaste.

[divulsion]

[Sam definitely isn't the only person cooking that night, but he handles the lion's share of it that day. Wanda finds her duties split between not only cooking but also preparing the community center for the dinner itself. There are tables to shift together, chairs to arrange, place settings to set up just-so, and a dozen other things to make the space ready for everyone. For the first half of the day she worries about setting up the community center while Sam gets his hands around the situation in the kitchen. By the time evening rolls around, she's made it into the kitchen to help Sam and prepare a few dishes of her own, including a dessert with fruit and nut pastries.

Dressed casually that evening, one of her flowing dresses and a sweater to keep her arms warm, she can be found wandering around the community center throughout the night. She cooks, she does dishes, she helps herself to a glass of whatever alcohol is easiest to come by, and mingles on occasion. On her own, she might find it difficult to strike up a conversation with so many others, but it helps a great deal to know she's not the only one there from her world. Gives her confidence to handle herself with some poise when approaching them, asking if they've found themselves a drink or an appetizer to nibble on.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Besides the meat delivered to Sam beforehand (cut and wrapped, as promised!), when Bucky shows up at the gathering, he brings a honey cake and a box of rolls, both from a bakery, and a twenty-four pack of beer. Just because he can cook doesn't mean anybody wants to eat what he knows how to make. Besides Steve. Steve likes his cooking. But it isn't just Steve, so he goes with the safe option, store-bought bread and the cake, because you can't have too many carbs, and classic beer.

He drops off his additions at the buffet and tries not to look awkward, standing around with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his casual jeans. He hasn't been to a party in a long time, it feels like, and he has to try to remember how to be social again. Feel free, also, to comment on the awful leather jacket he bought at Sampremi. It has fringe. He's sewn a white star onto the shoulder.]

[wingedman]

Nice jacket.

[Sam just raises an eyebrow at it.]

You going for a country western look or more of a biker theme?

[He takes a step closer, lowers his voice for a moment.]

I got a bag of leftovers in the kitchen. In case you're planning on seeing our mutual friend anytime soon.

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky frowns at the commentary, glancing down at the jacket he'd bought at the last festival. He and Tony had haggled it down, it's been a halfway decent replacement for the one he left at home. Or so he thought.] What's wrong with it?

[But then he just shrugs lightly, lowering his voice as well.] I don't think he wants to see me. Last time I texted him, he said he was changing his username.

[mannerism]

[ the truth of the matter, Peggy hadn't wanted to come.

It's far too early for anything so painfully social and an entirely bad idea if she is to be entirely honest. She is still learning her whereabouts, finding her footing, hardly a time to go gallivanting into some manner of dinner party.

And yet, and yet, here she is, anyway. She feels that she looks as out of place as she feels in her pressed and neat dress. The amount of time she had in the city is hardly enough for her to understand the local fashions. From the little she had noticed, modernity replaced the well-kept, sharp look in a more laid-back style; one that makes one look as if they hadn't bothered.

outrageous. ]

Crikey, they've slaughtered an entire herd.

[ it's hard to say if the tone is indignant or impressed, really. probably both. she would last about twenty minutes before going off in search of whatever strong alcohol the place can offer her, preferably whiskey. ]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky happens to hear that comment, and as it turns out, he and Steve were the ones who acquired the meat being served tonight. He's got a pulled-whatever sandwich on a plate, drizzled in barbecue sauce, and he quirks an eyebrow over at the well-dressed woman. She must be from the other universe, because he certainly doesn't recognize her - and she probably won't recognize him, though he looks like he could be the brother of Sergeant Barnes.]

Not a whole herd. Just one. It was a big one.

[mannerism]

[ She knew what she was doing when she went for the drink. One moment everything still makes a small amount of sense and the next, she's looking at someone who reminds her terribly of barnes. Only, she no longer calls him that, by his request.

Peggy pours herself some Whiskey and glances at his plate. ]

All of that from one cow? I dare not believe it.

[divulsion]

[It's already a strange dinner for Wanda. Aside from the fact that she's in an entirely different universe, the dinner is full of not only her teammates but alternate universe teammates as well, one of whom she's gotten more intimate with than she probably should have and another her alternate universe son. Still, she comes into the dinner expecting all of that.

What she doesn't expect is to run into the woman from Steve's past. Of everyone on the Avengers team, Wanda is perhaps one of the few who knows exactly how much the woman means to Steve. She's not proud of herself with the means by which she learned, but she and Steve have made peace over that. Wanda's first instinct is to introduce herself, to call the woman by her name, but that would require explaining how she knows, and that definitely isn't starting things off on the right foot.

So she approaches her as she would anyone else. Someone unfamiliar who nonetheless must belong there. One of the few women present at this event. Apron still covering her casual clothes, she approaches Peggy with a smile, offers her hand.]

We haven't met yet. I'm Wanda Maximoff. From... [How to make the distinction? After a moment, she points to Steve and Sam across the room.] the same world as them.

[inebriety]

[Despite the copious amounts of meat available in the room, Tony has eaten nothing since he arrived, choosing instead to drink whatever alcohol was available. Despite the effort he puts into staying drunk, but he was aware enough to be watching everyone, mentally taking notes on who was who and whatever differences there were between the people he knew. Some were easy enough to place, others a little more difficult.

His attire is the tailored suit he arrived in, now somehow artfully rumpled despite the lack of care he took with it. While it was easiest to differentiate him from the other Tony from the beer in his hand, he was also thinner, paler and overall more gaunt looking. He also doesn't offer much in way of conversation, moving around the room just enough to avoid anyone that wasn't looking for him specifically.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[It took him a bit to hear that there was another Tony now, but even so, he would have known just from looking at this guy. He looks almost ill, or as if he's been ill, and he's got a drink in his hand - Bucky has to stop himself from breezing by to take it away. They don't want their Tony to slip, but he guesses it isn't his responsibility to look after this one.

He stops near him, quirks his brows.] Are you going to eat anything with all that alcohol?

[amelioraate]

[ No. Just. No.

N O P E.

You aren't allowed to be here, not looking like that with alcohol and being so-- so-- him-like. Not when he can still remember what it was like at that rave, how much he kind of wants to topple off the wagon, and certainly not when he hates looking at himself in the goddamned mirror every morning. He really didn't need the whole thing walking around mocking him.

Then again, Tony has clearly fucked up enough in the past to deserve this kind of hell.

However, he isn't going to say anything, he will just be uncharacteristically quiet, pressed against a wall, glaring. He would leave, but he told Bucky and Steve he would come. Ugh.]

[wingedman]

You know, I probably shoulda brought nametags for everyone.

[There's a plate with some ribs and coleslaw being gently (but insistently) pressed into Tony's free hand.]

But at least this way you actually have to go up to people and ask them who they are.

[ikols]

[ He's just going to slump against the wall near Stark 2.0. Beside this stranger it feels contrarily far less like Loki doesn't belong, something that he senses in the vibes from at least half of those present, keeping to himself by his fishy grill or ... here, as a result. The godling sips a beer since it seems appropriate to have one while Thor isn't around to do the same. Or something. It's not as if the alcohol will affect him, so whatever.

Gold-dust from the rave remains in his hair, twinkling a little despite numerous showers. He slouches as though tired. ]

May I ask you some more questions?

[ Picking up where they left off before, when Loki was in a rush to help down in the monster-ridden tunnels. ]

[wingedman]

[Eventually, even Sam gets a chance to sit down, and he does so with a relieved sigh and a glass of bourbon. He's been on his feet most of the day, and it's nice to finally find a second to relax and enjoy the fruit of his labors. He just hopes it goes well - or at least doesn't end badly enough that he has to forfeit his security deposit. And although he's proud of his barbecue, there's a portion of grilled salmon on his plate - which is delicious, he's got to admit - along with samples of everyone else's dishes. When he finds something he particularly likes, he leans over to his neighbor, a piece of it on his fork.]

Hey, have you tried this yet?

[mannerism]

Goodness gracious, man.

[ you startled her, Sam, she was working on her glass of wine. she eyes his fork before patting his arm with her hand. By now, she's a bit more comfortable. Still poised, still too professional for anyone's own good.

it's easier with him, though. fighting lizard-like beings together would do this, she suspects. ]

What am I looking at?

[starspangled]

[it's just a dinner party, a modest gathering of friends, some of them new, some of them bearing a striking resemblance to other friends. absolutely no reason for anything to feel awkward.

so why does he feel a little bit awkward? the food is great, the little bit of conversation that reaches steve's ears is pleasant, but he's still standing against the wall like he's responsible for holding it up. once upon a time, steve could go unnoticed at any gathering, but these days he sticks out a little more.

he takes a bite of something from his plate, picking through it with his fork as he chews. seven layer salad is something new to him. ]

They really do put bacon in everything these days.

[at least he thinks that's bacon.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky feels a little bad for this Steve. Apparently the other Bucky didn't show up, which makes him wonder how he's doing. If he's actually talking to his Steve or not. After a bit, he goes to join him, with a plate of ribs in hand - which he's trying to eat with a fork. It's either that or one-handed.]

I think it's some kind of food trend. There are much stranger ones, trust me. I welcome bacon.

[noassgardian]

There's a lot of food here... and a lot of familiar faces that may only look familiar in appearance he's learned, so he may feel just a little out of place. At least he knows Loki is for sure around, and so is Wanda. So it's a little less awkward to show up and hang out for a little while. Besides, it'll be nice to keep up connections with people back home, or form new ones with the other versions.

For right now, he's grabbed a drink and he's poking around at the food. It's good, all of it, and Billy is helping himself to a bit of it.]

You know, whatever this is... it actually tastes pretty good in hamburger form.

[wingedman]

Bucky assured me it was perfectly safe.

[Sam doesn't even know what kind of animal the meat came from; Bucky butchered everything and delivered it wrapped up in paper. It's enough like cow that he's not going to ask.]

I don't think we've met. I'm Sam. [Sam grins at him, offers him a hand to shake, assuming Billy's got one free between his drink and the food.]

Natasha Romanoff | MCU | OTA

[unmakeme]

Natasha turns up late. Of course she does. Until about half an hour ago, she wasn't sure she'd be coming at all. Still, Sam invited her, and after the relief of seeing him, the disappointment of realizing that familiar faces wouldn't fix things, the return to her default state of slowly circling the drain, made all the more painful by a brief flare of hope? She really hadn't been in a position to beg off.

So she's here, late, two cases of beer piled in her arms as her contribution, because she doesn't cook. She drops one off near the end of the buffet table, cutting the top off so it's easier to access. The whole thing takes a couple of minutes, and then she's out of the center of things. She hauls the other case to a corner, out of the way, but when she turns to survey the room and try to decide on a plan of attack, she comes up short. She doesn't want to be here, in every possible way a person can mean that. Faces she knows, ones she doesn't, Multiple versions of Tony milling around only make the words of the Barnes on the wall cut that much deeper. She's not unique. How many worlds like hers but not? How many versions of herself? How many times has the idea of what she is been altered and diluted and made again?

In the end, she doesn't leave the corner. She doesn't even take off her glasses or jacket. She sits down on the case of beer, and after a couple of minutes, cuts into it and gets herself a bottle. She is way too sober to deal with this.