Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Something flits through the skies of the Nexus, bobbing and swooping only to climb again, an ecstatic aerial dance. At last, mirth of the moment giving way to some other whim, the flying figure drifts groundward, turning and drifting like a falling leaf until his feet, clad in pointed-toed green suede moccasins alight. Forest green tights hug lean legs all the way up to a bright green tunic, belted with rich brown leather and a bright brass buckle. On his left hip hang a set of pan pipes; on his right, a black-handled knife. An impish grin curls his lips, his eyes sparkle with the promise of mischief, and a pert green cap sits atop his head, crowned by a lone red feather. Could this be the black-suited GQ cover model who makes himself ubiquitous in the better-traveled spaces of the Nexus? Could it be Schön?

It is. "People of the Nexus, friends, in the world from which I hail we stand on the cusp of a special day, a harvest-fest when the walls between worlds grow thin, when masks and costumes are worn to frighten away wicked spirits--or to invite them in on more congenial terms. Today we bid Summer adieu, and raise fire and song to meet the long night! Join me, for an evening to last a lifetime, and a farewell to a season well-loved." His hand rises, pointing to where two bright beacons blaze in the churn of the Nexus' heavens. "Second star to the right, and we'll keep on 'til morning!" Crowing with laughter, he soars for that distant point like an arrow, leaving a trail of sparkling, glittering motes of light for anyone interested to follow.

Perched on the border between the parklands and the residential district, the night sky is like a pillow of iridescent black velvet, on which have been scattered an embarrassment of diamonds. Like an enormous pumpkin, a harvest moon presides over the shimmering vista, orange and plump. The air is cool and crisp, punctuated by the crackling hiss of dry leaves in motion every time a breeze picks up.

At the center of it all sits a stately house of Gothic style, ivy-clad and waiting. A square tower stands vigil over the entryway, tall windows overlooking the flagstone drive looping around a fountain full of water as blue and bright as a tropical sea. In the fountain stands an island, and if one peers closely enough, one might imagine they see figures moving about--on the deck of the tiny ship anchored in a cove, or swimming and splashing in a lagoon, or even creeping through the wooded interior. Of the house, the windows of the wings seem dark, perhaps waiting, but the line of the roof is limned with some glow from beyond, and the faint throb of distant music promises that the evening holds more than surfaces. The door stands open, a silent invitation to every brave soul who passes by.

((Happy Halloween! Enjoy the festivities, threadhopping is encouraged, tag back whenever you have time, and don't worry about missing out--we'll still be here when you get back.)) YouTube Playlist Visualosity Entrance Ballroom Banquet Bonfire Dark Corners

Comments

[brave_heart_verity]

Nobody could blame him for wanting to enjoy pretty and talented company sometimes. Ver might stand out in terms of character, but she's not sure that's a good thing. He sees her as a far better person than she knows herself to be. Sometimes, she feels a little guilty that he's so nice to her, and that she allows herself to enjoy it so much.

"That's the idea." Does he know how many people would do just about anything to make him smile like that? It's a tremendous responsibility. She dips a hand into the pouch of pixie dust hanging at her hip before bringing her hand up. The dust clings to her fingertips, but a light puff of breath loosens it to swirl around him. A little goes a long way.

[stands_for_something]

They can agree to disagree, regarding the quality of person she really is.

As the dust settles over him, Steve bows his head for a moment, a slow smile spreading as he reflects on all his happy thoughts. Age hasn't robbed him of joys, it has rather given him time to accumulate them. Perhaps he doesn't shoot to the ceiling, but his rise is a slow, stately one. "Well said."

[brave_heart_verity]

Far be it from her to argue with him. That is not the kind of person Mister Rogers would want her to be.

She doesn't judge about how long or how fast it takes for him. Verity is all too aware of how it wouldn't have worked at all for her not so long ago. Besides, there's a gracefulness in not hurrying. Her ascent follows his pace with no hint of impatience. "Thank you."

That line may have been in the works for a few weeks. Time well spent!

[stands_for_something]

He flashes a grin, and laughs. Yes, he can appreciate a pun, and a stealth pun all the more. Extending a hand to her, he asks, "now that we're up, would you care to cut a cloud or three?"

MOAR PUNS

[brave_heart_verity]

Every time she can get him to laugh is a victory for her. She's got a little scorecard in her head for it and everything. She is just about pleased as punch right now. (Given his costume, his appreciation for puns and wordplay is pretty evident.)

She almost answers 'yes, please'. Again. It's too late to not look overeager, but she's trying to rein herself in. "Of course." Not trying very hard, mind. Her hand in his and with her in position, she'll get to learn how well a man who can't usually fly can dance in three dimensions. Already knowing how well he does on the ground, she's got high hopes.

[stands_for_something]

It's her very own great American pass-time. Let's hear it for the home team!

As for dancing in the sky, well, between his acrobatic antics and his work with the shield, Steve has been thinking in more than two dimensions for quite some time. It's rare that he has the opportunity to apply that experience in such a congenial manner--"down" for other people, subjective, and subject to change for the sake of fun.

[brave_heart_verity]

She's a lucky girl to be on the winning side this time.

It's nice that he gets these congenial times without the inevitable supervillain cutting in. They do so love to crash parties. Weddings. Funerals. Thursday night poker games. Wednesday at the grocery store (it's senior discount day and he's earned it!). She'll do her best to keep up, and keep her wings from getting tangled in the chandeliers and fabulous hats.

[stands_for_something]

Villains have the worst sense of timing. Thankfully, the worst that any here might do is step on one another's feet, and high off the floor, that's not a concern for Verity and her dance partner. "You're good at this," he notes in warm tones.

[brave_heart_verity]

And no manners. Anyone crashing a Thanksgiving meal is more likely to be invited to stay if they bring a nice bottle of wine. More hostess gifts, less hostage taking. They have so much to learn.

"I've got the easy part," she points out with a smile that betrays just how squeeliciously happy she is about that compliment. "All I have to do is trust you."

[stands_for_something]

A villain who showed up at Avengers Mansion with a bottle of wine and a "please may I" would certainly have a better chance, and would be far less likely to end the day in an apron and working at Jarvis' direction.

"Living up to that trust is the challenge," he agrees, knowing full well that's not quite how she meant it, "but I don't plan to let you down."

[brave_heart_verity]

Not making public the pictures of the apron-wearing supervillains cleaning and scrubbing is surely the polite, kind, and politic thing to do. It's also a terrible disappointment for every member of that public body who could use a good laugh.

It's not quite how she meant it, but it's what weighs on his kind. The need to live up to the public trust. The desire to do right by them and for them. It's what makes him a hero. "I know," she assures him quietly. "That's why you never have."

[stands_for_something]

There are things too terrible to do even to one's enemies. As entertaining as it might be in the moment, mercy and restraint are precious things. That, and humiliated supervillains are often prone to tantrums at the expense of their surroundings.

Scratch another tally, Verity, you've made the old man smile again. "Well, thank you."

[brave_heart_verity]

He's a good man. Not everyone would be willing to spare their enemies, and not everyone would consider the consequences of poor choices. But it's not exactly a secret that she could sing his praises for days.

This is a night of victory and accomplishment for her! It's somewhat less of an accomplishment these days to get a smile from her, and never hard for him, but there it is. This one doesn't come alone, however; there's a distinct impression that she's not sure what he's thanking her for, a line of confusion in her expression. She very nearly asks him, 'for what?', but manages to curb that instinct and offer instead, "You're welcome."

[stands_for_something]

Mercy ends more battles than force--people stop fighting much sooner when they know their enemies will let them.

Some things are precious for their rarity, and some things are precious because they are good. Having more of the good doesn't make them any less worthwhile. "You've been practicing, I think," he notes, a stealth compliment for Verity.

[brave_heart_verity]

Mercy. What a revolutionary concept.

"My whole life." He can give her whatever adjectives he likes, rare or precious or worthwhile. From him, she'll believe it. "I think it's instinctive." They're not just talking about the dancing, are they?

[stands_for_something]

Steve has been a fan of the occasional revolution.

They might not be, but that's okay. It works on a couple of levels. "Good instinct to have."

[brave_heart_verity]

She throws a mean tea party, but there's not much salt water involved. Is he allowed to like tea?

They're just so clever. Except for right now, when she's too happy to think of something to say right off. So she'll focus on enjoying the dancing while her tongue unties itself.

"Did you ever meet any of your heroes?"

[stands_for_something]

He's American--he's allowed to like tea if he wants to, and anyone telling him otherwise can look forward to a stern talking-to.

"I have," he admits. "I met President Roosevelt, of course, and General Washington once. But honestly? I meet so many heroes, every day--ordinary people who wake up to a world full of problems and get to the hard work of living. It's inspiring." That's right, Captian America draws inspiration from everyone else--no lie.

[brave_heart_verity]

What a thoroughly American sentiment. Then again, all his sentiments are, by definition, American.

"General Washington?" Time travel. She'd love to hear more about that one, someday. But then there he goes being all sweet and not letting her maneuver the conversation where she wanted it to go. This is probably better. "You're lucky you're cute, this much perfect would be intimidating otherwise."

[stands_for_something]

His sentiments are thoroughly American because he subscribes thoroughly to America's best ideals, not through any power or authority of his to decide what is and isn't American. At least, that's the sort of thing he would insist.

"Time travel," he confirms her guess. "Kang tried to change history, we had to put it back."

Being sweet and not getting out-maneuvered are two Captain America classics. "Oh, I'm hardly perfect," he demurs.

[brave_heart_verity]

The American Ideal could have worse guardians than a good man in a zip-front cardigan.

"Aw, that sounds like fun." Matt never gets her into that kind of trouble... which is probably a good thing, she knows that (he's blind and she has pink hair, it really wouldn't work), but still. Some people have all the fun adventures. She just gets thugs.

"And here I thought you couldn't tell a lie." He may be sweetness itself and beyond getting out-maneuvered, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to try and flirt the heck outta him.

[stands_for_something]

It could have much worse.

"Oh, it had its moments. Facing down a regiment of redcoats was... well, it was a genuine treat to help make American history. I half wonder if I should thank Kang for the opportunity." Oh, wouldn't that annoy the blue-faced tyrant?

"I'm just a man, Verity," he assures her with a smile, "as far from perfect as anyone else."

[brave_heart_verity]

Verity giggles, shaking her head at some part of that. "I'm sure he'd love that." She thinks the idea that he had to go into the past to make history is funnier, but she has a feeling he might not like being called a piece of history. Recent or otherwise. There's just not an easy way to explain that without making everything awkward.

"Well, I have to give you points for believing that." She doesn't have to argue just because she disagrees. "But you're a better man than most."

[stands_for_something]

It's all a matter of perspective. It's one thing to fight the good fight as it's happening, another to get mixed up in the history you learned as a child.

"That's kind of you," he replies. "You're a good person, too." Again, his sincerity might be his greatest superpower.

[brave_heart_verity]

That's probably true, and part of why she kinda wants to do it. That, and she wants to know what actually happened in all those times and places the books lie about.

Welp, there's that whole 'never out-maneuvered' thing. Verity's lips compress into an expression made of equal parts frustration and admiration and pleasure. "I must be, if you say so."