entrancelogs | (open) there's got to be a morning after;

Entry tags:

(open) there's got to be a morning after;

Who: Leo Fitz and anyone else who really needs a beer right now
Where: The bar
When: August 9th, during that very still period between the end of the event and the return of everyone's powers.
Rating: PG-13, will note if anything escalates
Summary: Everyone got to live different lives and be different people! And then they woke up with the realization that they might have said or done some things that maybe shouldn't have happened. Beer is the solution to this problem. Come commiserate.
The Story:

[People talked about it, of course. They mentioned that events could change more than just parts of the mansion. But this was the first time Fitz had the chance to experience it. He'd lived an entirely different life, and it was... Pathetic. He'd become a person so steeped in published dogma that he lost track of common sense and self-awareness. He let people perform atrocities on him, all because he "knew" he was adhering to science.

And ever since waking up with his true memories restored, he's felt absolutely sick about it.

He settles down at the bar at just before noon, nursing a beer and brooding. He's not an expert drinker, and lets the beverage sit long enough for condensation to bead along the exterior of the glass between sips. But the sips do come eventually. How else is he going to wash away an alternate lifetime's worth of horrible choices?

Occasionally, he'll glance to whomever's settled down nearby, seeking comfort in shared misery.]

If I never hear the word "mutant" again it'll be too soon, yeah?

[This might be the most social he's been in the four months since his arrival.]

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[Sarah's been sort of numb through the rest of the event, quiet, not sure what to do with herself. She can't help Kurt, she can't help Jane. She didn't even do anything during the event - she wasn't anyone. She found Jane's body, and that was it. That'd been all she was good for. Hadn't saved her, hadn't gotten there in time. Just. Found her. Lying in a pool of blood, eyes wide open, vacant.

That's what she sees every time she closes her eyes, so she doesn't when she can help it. She finds herself at the bar around ten in the morning, and when someone sits beside her, she's already been drinking, downing her fifth whiskey, asking for another. But she still feels too sober and adjusts to a double. Drinking to cope; that was her father's game, and she doesn't want to be anything like him, but she doesn't know what else to do right now.

Glancing over, she lets out a breath that isn't quite a laugh. Just an acknowledgment.]

I haven't even been here long enough to know yet if the events are more this and less Halloween monsters and sleeping curses, or if something this fucked up only happens once in a while.

Bit of a grab bag, I'd say.

[Oh, yes, that whiskey might do the kind of damage he suspects he might need. He probably ought to warm up first, but it sets a reasonable goalpost for later.]

This is the first one that's been that strong, though. They don't normally go all the way to pull you out of yourself.

I don't even think I was that different. I don't even know why I'm here to begin with. I don't...do anything, I don't have any insane life that this place could use to spice things up.

Unless you all want to know what it's like to be the single parent of a nine year old, I don't have anything to offer.

[And that's probably good, but she also doesn't get it. Everyone's something here. Everyone's either a part of something, or their world is screwed up, and she's not saying she wants that. She just doesn't get why she's here in the mix.]

I don't think there's much of a criteria regarding who is and isn't brought here. Or... If there is, then it certainly means that someone sees something of interest of you. Even if you've not seen it yourself.

Lives don't have to be insane to be worthwhile, you know.

Edited 2016-08-09 14:33 (UTC)

But you should generally do something with them, right?

[She scrubs her hand over her face, taking a deep breath and letting it out.]

I'm sorry, you didn't sit down to listen to this. This event just...everyone had a hard time, I think.

My mum was a single parent. [He talks over her apology, because it isn't at all necessary.] She taught me everything there is to know about life. I think about her all the time -- every time I consider what's right and wrong.

Your child probably thinks you're doing a lot with your life.

I hope so.

[She sighs heavily.]

I miss him. I've seen kids here and I thought...maybe Sawyer would be okay here. But now, I honestly don't know what I would do if he showed up. What do the kids do here when shit hits the fan? Do they have family?

[Who's protecting the children???]

I've not seen any of them injured, at least. I think a lot of them stick together in groups. When we had zombies in the mansion, one of the children took a leadership position. I think they might be tougher than we think they are.

[Sarah runs a hand down her face again at 'zombies.']

What about you? What were you during this whole thing?

I was. [LIQUOR. Liquor is going to happen before he can get through the sentence.] I was someone who kept his head down and did what he was told. Even when it hurt people.

[Sarah watches him, then clears her throat.]

At least that's not really you, right? At least I'm guessing since you're here drinking and not just shrugging it off.

I don't exactly know that we can consider therapeutic alcoholism to be a good thing. But it certainly was an experience.

Maybe as long as we don't keep doing it.

[She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]

I got hit with that sleeping curse a few weeks ago. And that came with interesting nightmare scenario dreams. And now...my...a friend was killed, so I just. I see it. I see her. So. Therapeutic alcoholism it is, for now.

I fell to the curse as well/

[He clinks his bottle against hers without further commentary. Definitely no reason to regret anything now.]

Cheers.

[When she lets out a laugh, it's not exactly humor filled, and she drinks until her beverage is gone, immediately asking for another.]

What's your name, by the way?

O--oh, right. Yes, we probably ought to...

[He smiles softly, and extends a hand to greet her properly.]

Leopold Fitz.

[ She shakes his hand, mentally noting that she doesn't think she's ever met a Leopold before. ]

Sarah Weller. Nice to meet you. Sorry it's not under lighter circumstances.

[He spent much of his childhood under the impression that his mother hated him terribly for a name like that.]

It's a pleasure, Miss Weller. Whatever the reason, it's still best that we know our neighbors in a place like this, I think.

I think so, too. Although, I guess that didn't matter much with the last event. It's...so weird to have believed completely that I was what Wonderland made me. And to have memories of a totally different life...

Do you think that'll fade, eventually?

One hopes.

[He shifts , fussing with the side of his bottle and digging his nails into the edge of the label.]

But I hope I can at least hold on to some of it. I made choices there that I never want to make in real life. I don't want to forget what I've learned.

I wanna forget everything. All of it. This place could take those memories from me and I wouldn't...I wouldn't mind at all.

[Sarah drains the rest of her drink and definitely asks for another.]

....If they were gone and all you had was a spot of missed time, you wouldn't wonder what happened?

[He pulls at the label slowly, watching it more than her. He's thought a lot about things like this.]

[Sarah thinks about that for a long time, chewing on the inside of her cheek.]

I don't know. I'm...

[She swallows hard, looking over at him.]

My friend was killed. I found...I found her. And I keep thinking about that, about the way she died, and she was alone...[Sarah closes her eyes for a second.]

So I just keep seeing Jane's eyes wide open, but she's not there. And I want to forget it.

[Compassion swells in his features, and he reaches over to set his hand on top of hers.]

She's not there. But she's here. [....He hopes.]

Have you been to see her?

[ Sarah shakes her head and swallows. ]

No, she woke up and my brother just...he's been taking care of her. This is hard enough for her, for them, without me crying about it and getting in the way. If she's making progress in getting through it, I don't want to knock her back.

[ So, you know. She's at the bar. ]

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