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

[hypoxic]

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.]

Comments

[rosswood]

[Alex has been here since morning. He didn't think he'd be one to sink back to the habit after he returned here in the first place. He didn't think anything could catapult him back to this, back to plunging uncertainty and fear and doubt.

He'd thought wrong.

If he'd felt like everything he did was justified then, what does that mean for him -

No. The two are completely different.

Alex is on his fourth beer and is no closer to achieving clarity. He looks to Fitz wearily.]

Jesus. Whoever's event that was, I kinda wanna strangle 'em.

[hyperkinesia]

[ Aside from this one, the greatest change Bruce has seen during an event was the one where genders got swapped, and that... well, let's say he'd have gladly chosen to turn into a woman again instead of living through the event they've just had. The setting itself and the tension between the two factions in that alternate timeline were bad enough as they were, but Bruce also has his own very personal reasons to be here right now, even though the bar is the last place he'd normally be found at.

Being free of the Hulk, which he assumes is a temporary thing, at least gives him some breathing room in this aspect. He doesn't have to worry about keeping himself tightly under control, and while he can't know when he'll have his condition returned to him, he'll risk it. He dislikes alcohol on principle but he seriously needs a break right now.

So, a drink it is. Not beer since he's always found that a little bitter, but he asks for a glass of cream liqueur instead. Sweet, and the taste of the alcohol, if he remembers right, not too strong.

He's just taking a seat by the bar when a familiar voice comes up a couple of seats away, and he glances over. ]

Right. Tell me about it. [ It's rhetorical, don't tell him about it. ]

[catchacold]

Cheers.

[That beer you're nursing, Fitz? It's not enough. Instead Len puts a small shot glass with a clear liquid inside in front of him as he sits down, Fitz's drink wisely not on the rocks, while his own has a lot of liquid, but also a lot of ice. He likes it cold, even without being a mutant.]

To that shit being over.

[blackbirdsing]

[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.

[radiopalkiller]

[ There is one bright side to all of this, exactly one: In the aftermath of the event Philip's abilities are gone. All of them. For the first time in years he can finally get drunk on a reasonable amount of booze! And Christ, is he gonna need to.

It's not really surprising that more people had the same idea. It's a bit unfortunate that a particular one of them catches his eye at the bar- for just a fleeting second too long to ignore. Philip shudders internally, and scribbles down a quick thing into his notebook.

He tears off the piece of paper, and slides it across the counter, pinned underneath a cool bottle of beer. ]

Is "Hey, let me get you a 'sorry for almost trying to liquify your insides in some bizarre eugenics science program' pint" too flippant?

[eyething]

[Damon has two glasses in front of him. One of these glasses is alcohol. The other glass is blood, and he drinks from both in equal measure like it might make him feel better, but being without powers is hard. It's very, very hard.

He looks over at the person who speaks even as he grimaces]

Yeah. If we could get all the way on the other side of this event and have everything be normal again...

That'd be great.

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha overhears the sentiment as she saunters in behind him. Unlike most of the people she's passed today, she's looking cool and poised and professional, but there's a deliberateness in the careful distance she's keeping today that is as much a defensive measure for herself as it might be for anyone else around her.

This most recent event had been a doozy for pretty much everyone involved, no matter which side of the conflict they'd fallen on. The things she'd said, the things she'd done... Well. It could have been worse, she can acknowledge that, but that didn't always make it better.

She slides onto a stool beside him, orders a drink, and promptly downs it in one abrupt swallow before glancing over at him. ]

Are you alright?

[ She'd heard things about Fitz, after all. She'd heard things about a lot of people. ]

[therapize]

I'm guessing things went pretty badly for you?

[Probably, given his presence. Cami can't remember seeing Fitz around before, and the way he's ever so slowly sipping at his beer speaks to an inexperienced drinker. She can't even pretend she's hovering around because his glass is low, so screw it. The comment invites conversation, so she'll bite.]

So which side of the coin were you on?