Deck the Halls (does not mean punch them)

[touchofrogue]

Who: Rogue, Remy, those invited who decided to attend, and they’re probably not rude enough to turn down any passerbys who happen to come by and wish to attend
Broadcast: Nope
Action: In an out of the way room with a few smallish windows on the Iskaulit
When: December 23rd, 5ish-8ish


It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas, or it would have been if they were on an Earth calendar. For their celebration and memory-making, Rogue had selected a middle sized room on the edge with two small windows by which an occasional view of the ice planet below could be seen. There would be very few who would be tempted to steal such a familiar view, however, since Rogue had enlisted Loki’s aid in making Christmas decorations and he provided illusions with alacrity and skill.

Lights are strung about the room, housed in brightly colored glass balls. While at first they simply seem to be glowing ornaments, there is something odd about the flames. A close look will reveal they do not dance formlessly, but rather have the shape of tiny dragons. There are bright, evergreen wreaths with red bows, hung strategically about the place which are actually eternal knots, impossible to solve. In the corner immediately spotted upon entering is an illusion of a gorgeous Christmas tree, with decorations all in gold and sparkling lights at the end of each branch - even the smell of evergreen is mimicked flawlessly. Flanking the tree are two tables, one laden in all kinds of food that Rogue and Remy have cooked up, the other with the label ‘White Elephant presents here.’ Loki has also helped Rogue hook up her music to some sort of an audible projection, and she is initially going to be streaming traditional Christmas Carols done by such greats as Ella Fitzgerald, Norah Jones, and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

There are a few comfortable chairs set up along the opposite side of the room as the Christmas tree (just a few, as comfortable chairs are not that easy to find), by an illusion of falling silver leaves that provide a glow of soft light in the area.

The center of the room is free for dancing, or games, or standing about and talking. Remy and Rogue have done their best to make delicious finger foods, appetizers and heartier party fare. There’s delicacies that can be found sourced from the planet, various salted fruits, a small platter of apple slices with a caramel dip, and heartier fare in the way of stews and pastas, the sort of thing that could be put in a cup and eaten standing up. There are desserts as well, spice cookies and peppermint bark and a far too tiny chocolate cake. There is punch - ice strawberry - and Natasha’s gift of vodka, kept carefully separate from the punch, and there’s some leftover wine Loki had magically made more potent for the solstice that Rogue stole in case any of those with suped up metabolisms wanted the pleasure of getting buzzed.

Notably, there is no depiction of mistletoe.

Comments

[mucked]

The depositions were hardest. [ this is the wrong place for this conversation -- and that wrongness shows in how clandestine her whisper grows. ] Grief can be weathered. I doubt you need me to tell you that much. Lives march ever onward. But the endless interviews about what happened -- about the last hours leading up to his crash.

[ it had torn her apart: the thin line between what duty demands she report, and what the soul wants to keep secret. kisses; promises; tears. she put none of them on the record. ]

[redactions]

[ His brow furrows, and then uncreases, with understanding. He reaches across for her hand. No one is looking. ]

Were you on the line with him?

[mucked]

[ a nod is all she needs. a nod and his hand, firm above her flighty fingers. part of her feels guilty because ever since she'd learned of his switched-place with steve, she's wanted to know -- had anyone been on the line with jim barnes? had anyone shared a last laugh and lingering smile with him? as tragic as steve's loss had been, peggy could not characterize those last minutes as terrible ones. ]

Till the static took over. [ ... ] And I think I might have waited a damn full hour after that.

[redactions]

I know.

[ Not I'm sorry, though he feels that too. It's a choice, to apologise would feel like diminishing the worth of the sacrifice. ]

You were there for me too.

[ Thank God they weren't the last words he ever said to her. ]

[mucked]

[ if she smiles now, then it's only because she can't think of what else to do with her mouth. terse, tight, and terribly dishonest: her smile is the uncomfortable leftovers of a long-worn mask. peggy carter trusts jim barnes -- even this barnes, now -- down to her bones. but she won't let herself crack before him for just any old heartache. ]

Is it so strange that I take that as a comfort? [ she exhales. ] I don't know what I'd think or feel or do if I learned you'd been -- alone.

[ the content of the conversation doesn't matter have so much as its existence does. ]

[redactions]

Just like him.

[ He doesn't clarify which him; he steered the conversation here and he'll be damned if all they do is wallow. it feels like that, a lot, because he only ever acknowledges the grief, and not the joy of having them both here. ]