trans_9 | Post Mission Party At The Bar

Entry tags:

Post Mission Party At The Bar

Its time to unwind, relax and receive news of home. A pod pop occurred while some were on a mission and it's time to meet up with new friends, drink well with old, and relax.The Drunken Dragon has opened its doors and stands ready and willing to assist in forgetting the trials those on the mission experienced.

OOC: If you want a specific barmaid, just put their name in the subject. Otherwise, enjoy, intermingle and do as you like.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm not that much of a drinker," he said as way of an apology. Not that he couldn't appreciate the finer stuff, but he could just as well do without. Daniel had to resist the urge to lean forward and give the cup a sniff. Just in case. Although honestly, if she was going to pull one on him, she'd have done it earlier when he was actually exhausted and more likely to fall for it. Eva didn't strike him as malicious or anything either. He could trust her not to hand him something that was seventy proof or something.

One sip couldn't hurt. If he found something weird about it, he'd just put it down. Once he stopped nursing it like a artifact fragment on the verge of collapse. Daniel cautiously took a tiny sip. It burned a little as it went down his throat, but it wasn't unpleasant.

When she laid out his flaws like that, almost sarcastically, Daniel had to admit, they seemed pretty silly in the big scheme of things. She had a talent for putting things into perspective. He hunched over his drink a little. It was partially why he'd been so focused on burying himself on this research. He was trying not to think about the ramifications of their actions on the planet, even if it was just for a few hours. Daniel rubbed at the back of his neck. "I think I'll be fine. Really."

Don't tell her son? What for-oh....OH. That was...well, that was awkward. Daniel hadn't meant it nearly so accusingly. He'd been looking at this tavern as a place work or relax, not so much for its actual purpose as a bar, but after what she'd gone through, he could see why she might be attracted to somewhere like this. "Right, I won't. How is he anyway? The Time Dragons should've made good on their end of the bargain by now."

Edited 2011-07-31 01:27 (UTC)

"I figured as much. Don't worry, that's lambic. It's practically all cider, no hard." And good-tasting, too. It's a drink she wouldn't feel bad giving to Marco or Tom.

She smiles, warm as the alcohol in her stomach. "That's good to hear. You all go off on these missions all the time, and I tend to worry that the aftermath's even worse."

After all, she'd know about how everyone's platitudes of 'at least no one died' ring hollow in the face of coping. Such phrases invalidate the very real processing of harsh events. 'No one died' is the way to rationalize away and minimize 'but we still lost something, even if it's just a piece of our souls'.

She shakes her head. "I don't have a problem or anything. I just don't want him to worry. He thinks he has to parent me as much as I parent him." She rolls her eyes to mask very real sadness there. "He's fine. A little younger than before the clock, but not by much."

Not by enough to save him.

Practically all cider, which meant he should probably be careful. It was the quiet ones that snuck up on you. Daniel took another sip. It did taste pretty good. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to be careful.

"Someone's got to do it," Daniel said lightly. It wasn't all responsibility and obligation either, it was a desire to get out, to learn, explore and try to do some good out there. And maybe on one planet, he could find something to help his home and help Sha're. Daniel had to wonder at the way she separated herself, that 'me and then you all' attitude underlying her answer. Asking outright wasn't too polite but his curiosity often tended to take front seat. "You don't go on them, do you? How come? Don't you feel cooped up on here?"

Okay, at least he didn't have to worry about her coming out as an alcoholic, because Daniel didn't think he could stand back and watch her destroy herself silently if that was the case. He tried to picture Marco's attitude towards his own mother and found he couldn't. He didn't have a frame of reference himself, not even close to it. He couldn't imagine getting to a point where you felt like you had to parent your parents.

"It has to be tough. Having your kid take that responsibility on. But I think you're a lot tougher than he's giving you credit for," he said. "Does he even remember anything from being de-aged?"

Damn, he'd really thought Sundial would've done his end of the bargain completely, not just stopped halfway. It was also too late to do anything about it. Preferably no one would have lost extra time, but in the end, it was better than being aged out of existence.

Edited 2011-07-31 02:51 (UTC)

She shrugs. "Stacy doesn't send me invites, so how can I RSVP? Besides, I have a house full of teenagers to keep in line. It wouldn't do for me to go run headlong into danger."

Peter once told her, after the war, that he thought if she were standing in front of an oncoming train, she wouldn't move. Not out of any suicidal impulse, but simply because she'd forget it was in her power to save her own life. As if the train would be as half-there as she is. So maybe it's a good thing that she goes out of her way to avoid those situations where she'd be required to have a survival instinct.

She frowns a bit and takes another drink. "He shouldn't. It's not that I'm not tough enough to look after myself, histrionics in the library aside, but he spent a while parenting himself-" and Peter- "after I was taken and I think old habits die hard."

She nods. "Everything that happened while he was deaged. He's a bit fuzzier as to what happened to him before Stacy. I'd like to keep it that way, if only because I'd like to preserve his taste in women as it is at sixteen instead of as it became at seventeen."

She'd decided not to push the subject, or her luck, with the dragons, but she hasn't quite been able to chase away the what-might-have-beens, no matter how much sense Daniel had been making. If he has to live with this, whenever he gets his Goa'uld victim back, and live with watching the tortuously slow, never complete recovery from long-standing pain of the someone he loves most, then maybe she'll listen to him.

But while Daniel has proven himself to be perceptive, and empathetic, and even understanding, she doesn't know if he's ever lived through the equivalent of that chapter of her life. So his words were logical, but ultimately comfortless.

It was weird that Stacy left her out, but she had a point, she had other obligations. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry." Daniel hadn't thought of it, so caught up in what could be done on the missions or what might be there that he overlooked the other factors. There were others depending on her, people here who needed her. "I think that eventually he'll accept that you can. Give it time."

It wasn't like anyone could tell Marco drop a habit he'd learned to live with, had used to cope with the war, just like a light switch but the war was over. If he didn't adapt to the fact that they had something else to look forward to, and that Eva was no longer a host, he could run the risk of smothering her.

He'd been afraid more time had been lopped off, but it looked like that wasn't the case. Phew. Daniel looked at her curiously. What did one year make to a teenager in a taste of women? "Should I even ask?"

"Probably. Eventually." She takes another drink. "It was actually a little bit nice, to be able to have a few more weeks with him as a little boy. Even with all the worry."

Besides, all the grey hairs he gave her over those few weeks is a nice way t remind her to be grateful for his relative maturity now, and stop wishing for the way things were before she was captured. Or wished a little less.

She brings the drink to her mouth again and pauses. "You don't have children, do you? I didn't think you did, but the way you treat family as a subject, I'd be surprised if you aren't at least married."

She gives an exaggerated sigh and then laughs. "Oh, God. When he was sixteen, he was an inexperienced young man who hadn't had time to date because he'd been busy saving the world. When he was seventeen, he'd spent a year having gorgeous blond Hollywood starlets and diplomats' daughters throw themselves at his feet. His taste in women was completely superficial. I was terrified I'd have a daughter in law who thought Africa was a country."

Even if the Melting Clock had been an incredible risk all around, there had been a few positives to it, such as Eva getting time back. Eva looked like she'd come to terms that at least she'd gotten a brief second chance. It was more than most people ever got in their life times.

Going from being too busy to think about relationships to - well, whether what she said counted as a relationship or not was questionable, but some people could see it that way. Daniel didn't. He just couldn't do flings. It wasn't in his nature. It accounted for how he spent most of his life buried in his work instead because he didn't do things halfway. Even that had cost him Sarah in the end.

"That would be enough to take down any teen's defenses or common sense." Daniel had to shudder at the thought of someone claiming Africa wasn't a continent. God. Just thinking about it- "It's probably a good thing, he'd have gotten his heart broken sooner than later when he realized what was going on." Heartbreak was going to happen sooner or later, but at least Marco wouldn't have been used by some aspiring actor to further their career.

Eva had some kind of other instinct when it came to his oversight. Daniel wasn't ready for her to make so astute a guess. She was right.

Children had been the last thing on his mind when he'd accidentally gotten married, although Kasuf hadn't let a day go by in the following year without dropping a hint that he was expecting robust, healthy children in the near future. That was the funny thing about the Abydonian concepts of subtly and tact. The Good Father's idea of a subtle hint was approaching Daniel every morning and asking him bluntly whether he had honored his family, and the tribe, and fathered strong boys yet. Even when Daniel slipped out at the early hours to study the cartouche, Kasuf always tracked him down. After awhile, Daniel resigned himself to it as a fact of life and got used to it. The sun would rise, Abydos would always have sand, and Kasuf would show up like clock work, giving him the best disappointed father-in-law look when he came by to ask where his grandchildren were.

Over a year had passed and they still weren't on his mind. All he could think about was getting Sha're back.

Daniel managed not to fidget, but he did take up the cup again, suddenly very interested in the drink. "No, no children," he was muffled by the cup. "I have a wife."

Edited 2011-07-31 23:23 (UTC)

Eva was the type for flings, back in the day. Romantic, clingy Peter was the exception to Eva's rule of hands-off relationships and never telling her boyfriends where she lived. But they'd been friends for a long time before that, so adding romance to the mix had been new to her, but not difficult.

"Oh, don't worry. He broke more than his fair share of hearts in the day. I felt bad for his bimbos. They deserved more respect, even if they were bimbos," she says. It always made her feel bad when Marco would simply drop one for another like they were interchangeable, or never call them back in the morning - but like many things, she didn't bring it up with him. It's enough to have him back; she doesn't have the fortitude to confront him over anything.

She pauses, realizing that she's put her finger on something she should have left well enough alone. The way Daniel averts his eyes makes pieces fall into place for her. So her first instinct was right - his missing loved one is indeed his wife.

Some dark, heartless part of her says "thank God it's not his child".

"I'm sorry," she says after a moment, feeling guilt well up in her lungs.

"I guess it was hard lesson for everyone on uh, relationships". 'His bimbos', as if Marco had a squad of them or a pack waiting around, ready to pounce. How many women were after her son post-war? And just how many girls' hearts had Marco broken? Eva was right but the way Daniel saw it, both parties fed on each other. These actors and politicians were using a person for their own agenda, and Marco sounded like he was lapping it up in return. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much of that on board Stacy.

Eva seemed to realize too late what she was digging into. Daniel guessed he'd had it coming for awhile now. Daniel found himself reluctant to talk about Sha're. When Sam had first asked about her, Daniel could still talk about her fondly, talk about how they'd met. Sam was easier, she'd been honestly curious, making polite conversation while getting to know him, and she didn't have anything nearly so personal at stake.

Eva had to understand this better than most, she was the other side of what they were going through. She understood it better than anyone back home, so shouldn't it be easier to talk to her about his wife? Daniel found himself clamming up. He felt numb, tired in a world-weary way that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion, and considered getting too interested in his drink to talk for a few minutes, just so Eva would leave him alone. No go on that idea. He'd just tried that. There wasn't much left.

Touching the side of the cup, Daniel kept his eyes on the table. "I'm sorry too."

It was almost too soft to hear. It was probably the first time he'd actually said it out loud when it came to Sha're. Sorry he hadn't been a better husband, sorry he'd unburied the Gate. Sorry he was losing time here when she was suffering somewhere else.

Edited 2011-08-01 04:06 (UTC)

She knows why it's hard. The truth is always hard; hopes and dreams are easier managed when you have just the right amount of facts and just the right amount of wiggle room, enough to say 'it doesn't have to be this bad', 'mine will be the exception', 'if I don't know what it really looks like it's not really there'. The grown-up equivalent of covering your eyes at the monster in the closet.

It's hard to ignore the monster in the closet when they buy you lambic and ask you about your marriage.

Not for the first time, she wonders if she is worth the weight she drags into Daniel's life, all that harsh reality she pulls into his life. She knew, of course, that he had lost someone to the Goa'uld. She just hates to rip open that wound.

She is one of the ship's greatest resources on infestation and slavery, and simultaneously the most difficult to talk to about it. Either her own temper flares up in the way, or the sheer horror of the situation brings out the defensive walls in others.

She can't really blame Daniel for clinging to the last of his hopes and shields. And for all she knows, maybe Sha're really will be the one in a million that does better. She doubts it.

"So," she finally says. "How was the weather on Galilee?"

Eva was a smart woman. It couldn't be two hard to piece it together, the library and right now. This was different than admitting it to Kendra, and where Daniel had been willing to speak about Sha're to her, he was a lot less willing to do the same right now with Eva. Not that he could think up a single out at the moment, so he gave up trying. Daniel just pushed the cup away. He could probably just go back to his quarters and work on this there.

When Eva spoke again, Daniel just lifted his head and stared at her for a second, unbelieving. It was such an awkward switch to a ridiculously mundane, and most people would say, bland, subject that Daniel snorted. He knew what it was. Anyone could see what Eva was trying to do, but really, he didn't think it was her responsibility to try and ease him back into the conversation. She had plenty to worry about besides him.

"I don't remember that much of it," Daniel said, unwilling to blow her off.

Her responsibility, no. She has trouble not taking on responsibility in the wake of her infestation, but this is not one of those cases. It's not her responsibility to drag him from the darkness she's coaxed him into.

But Daniel's her friend, and it's her desire.

"Oh, come on now. You see your first legitimate sun in weeks and you don't even notice it? I haven't soaked up vitamin D since XaXing." How can it not bother her to be in a bigger cage?

Eva, if anything, had an astounding tenacity when she wanted to pursue something. She wasn't going to let Daniel have the peace and quiet to think too much about Sha're, or what was happening to her right now, which for a moment, irritated Daniel. It just seemed absurd, meaningless to even talk about the weather when there was a lot worse going on all over. Eva had to know that.

Now that she pointed it, they hadn't seen an actual sun in awhile, had they? Maybe it was a mark of working in Cheyenne Mountain for so long now. Granted, he'd never gone weeks without getting top side, but he had gone days cooped up in his office before. He hadn't realized it at all. The interior of Stacy was so massive that sometimes it was easy to forgot they were on a ship. Kind of like trying to comprehend that Earth was really just a tiny rock in an impossibly vast space every single day.

"I really didn't notice. There was a lot going on," Daniel tried to explain hastily. It still sounded weak anyway, especially considering that Jack was always drilling it into him to notice everything. Even weather and time of day could mean all the difference. Something about tactics. Daniel had always been more interested in what weather might have on developing culture than tactics. "Really? Do you have any idea when the next shore leave is due?"

One of the things Eva always had a lot of time for, during her infestation, was thinking. Thinking while Edriss stole her face, thinking while chained to the portable pool, thinking while trying to pretend she was anywhere but in her cage of a body. Thinking never accomplished much; it compounded on hurts, allowed her to take a painfully accurate assessment of her situation, brushed away any delusions she could concoct for herself about freedom or worth.

She doesn't see the point of dwelling. She sees no point in allowing Daniel to indulge in it. What can he do, but acknowledge his own powerlessness to save his wife? Acknowledge it over and over again, as if each time over again is a revelation, a penance to what he can't change. She knows men like him. She knows that defeat and sorrow are as warm and comfortable as success and peace, or at least, more comfortable than the middle ground. So she doesn't want to let him dwell.

She shrugs. "I never have any idea what Stacy's up to. I don't think even the Command staff knows. It's a shame though. I've always loved the sunlight. It must be the Californian in me."

And she never got any sun when her body was up in space. Not any sun that felt like sun. "I just hope the hangover I get from the next shore leave isn't nearly as bad as I got from the one on XaXing. I think I spent the whole day in bed."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Post Mission Party At The Bar

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject