sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: #43 - The Vincennes
WHEN: December 27th - Evening
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open (Gathering Style)

When the gifts had arrived, Peggy had treated them at first with the same suspicion as anything else here. Things simply weren't that good to be true, but these gifts had people's names on them this time. With the exception of several that she couldn't begin to understand (such as that one from a man named Ivan, that she barely recalled interacting with), the rest were so kind and thoughtful that she soon found herself with a wealth of possessions she hadn't hoped to possess here.

The party had been borne of one single thought: I have nowhere to wear such lovely things and when she'd found the wine and liquor from others (including Tony, which didn't surprise her in the very least), she knew that she could change that. She'd posted a quick notice at the inn using some of the cardboard of a box and the lovely fountain pen Helen had given her, then did the same at many of the public buildings, inviting people to her home and inviting them to bring any food or drink they might like to provide, as well as suggesting this as an opportunity to wear their fanciest.

She set out her drinks (the ones she was willing to share) and made sure to tidy the home so that it was presentable. In her youth, back during her first engagement, she might have imagined entertaining like this on a regular basis, but that had been swept away by the war. Instead, Peggy was left hoping that such a gala would be acceptable and that she wouldn't simply be here alone tonight.

Setting her new record player (and her single record) down, she cranked it to begin playing the record that had come with it (a pressing of the Glenn Miller Band), and then she began to convince herself that there was nothing more that she could do.

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"I was doing the work already, I wanted the glory, too," Ravi complains, thinking the long sleepless nights testing every condom known to mankind against the zombie virus, out of the love for his friends. That's not even mentioning the nights he'd spent trying to dig up a corpse to get its supply of tainted utopium back.

Ravi glances over his shoulder, noticing how many people are here and how small the house is. "It's a fairly private conversation," he admits, seeing as Mark is the only other person who knows the truth. "Not really party fare."

"Ahh, I understand. There's things about my life I wouldn't want to air in polite company."

Some of them being, of course, her true age and the men she'd spent her formative years around. Of course, she'd already told Ravi these things so the cat was out of the proverbial bag.

"But I will hold you to an eventual explanation, Ravi."

"When we're in private," Ravi promises, because he doesn't necessarily want to be withholding this sort of information, it's just always seemed like the safer thing. "I promise," he vows, looking far more serious than usual. "Really, I do, I'll tell you, just not with so many witnesses around."

"I'll hold you to it," Helen reminded him gently. "But, as it is, you're free to pepper me with questions whenever you like. I want to keep my mind sharp and my memories fresh. Talking about them is the best way to do that."

She'd noticed that it was harder and harder to remember things now. Not the short term, of course, but the older memories were harder to come by. She wondered if it had to do with aging normally once again or if something more foul was at play.

Ravi honestly isn't sure where he wants to start with the questions, so he decides that they're going to start somewhere completely different. "Drinks first," he announces. "Then, I'm going to come up with at least a top five list at some point, whether it's tonight or when we have a more private talk, and I'll ask them all. Spoiler alert, one of the questions is going to be about Nikola Tesla's oral abilities."

Helen coughed awkwardly, then laughed. She had never anticipated that someone would ask about whether or not Nikola was good with his mouth but she supposed she had to be prepared for anything where Ravi was concerned.

"Try not to have your mouth on me when you ask?" she said, giving him an impish grin. "Because I don't like to confuse myself."

He fakes a gasp, but there's a sly smirk on his lips. "Is that a veiled reference to the fact that you could potentially mistake us? No, don't answer, I'm going to live in this delusion, I like it too much," he informs her with a nod of his head. "Drinks," he says, his mood already heightened for these revelations. "Drinks all around!"

"You've similar personalities," Helen conceded. "And I would be remiss if I didn't point out that it is one of the things that attracts me to you."

That and his brain, of course, because attraction for her had always been about more than just the physical. Without a mind to go along with the physical beauty, Helen had always lost interest quickly.

Preening is exactly the word that could be used to describe Ravi at this exact moment, as delighted as a person can be. "You just say the nicest things about me," he insists, as if he's truly touched that she could be so kind. Honestly, this is what makes this unbearable village actually tolerable, sometimes.

"Flattery is a powerful tool," Helen said, giving him a bit of a cheeky grin in response. She nodded toward his shirt and bit her lip a bit.

"So it seems that the shopping I didn't intend to do worked out well? I like how it looks on you."

"I can't even understand how this happened or where you got it, but I love it," he says, sincerely, because it's something he would've shopped for himself and then never bought thanks to the price tag and the fact that he would've just gotten blood or guts or something equally disgusting on it. "Now for the truly terrifying question," he says with a nod of his head.

"Did I manage to remember to get you something?"

"Oh, yes. You gave me marijuana seedlings," Helen said. "Both medicinal and recreational use. I couldn't have thought of a better present for a doctor at the end of her wits."

It would help if they had injuries - pain control, sedation, hypnotic uses. It would, also, take the edge off when invariably she had a long, hard day.

He brightens up both at the fact that he'd managed to remember to get her a mystery magic gift, but also at hearing what it was. "I like to think that I got it to further our treatment of patients of both physical and psychological maladies," he says, "but truthfully, I probably just figured we all needed a good excuse to relax, after all the curveballs this place has thrown at us."

"Seedlings, though," he wrinkles his nose, "Bad on me."

"Ah, well, seedlings eventually grow into plants, my good friend," Helen said, laughing softly. "And so we will be well supplied in the future. I prefer that over have just the dried leaves anyway. It means I can grow more."

Helen never fancied herself a drug dealer but, when in a pinch, marijuana had quite a few medicinal properties to be exploited.

"We just need to get to that future without any more incidents that could really use the medicinal properties of pot," Ravi says, given that they've been happening on more than a few occasions when he's sat back and thought that some casual drug use might be rather helpful. "Well, then, we'll just have to be patient."

He's awful with patient, but good with determined and passionate pursuit. He can wait, especially if there's something good that will come out of it.

"Patience is a virute, Ravi," Helen said, almost sing-song. He really did remind her in Nikola is all the good ways and none of the almost-killing her ways. It was the best of both worlds.

"Besides, with Mark to help me, I have no doubt we'll be sitting on a field of plants by spring."