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open post 2.0;
fires may rise, shadows may fall, hold on through the night (♫)
[ This whole alien monolith thing is really getting old. Like, seriously universe, find a new schtick already. Surely, there have to be other more creative ways to mess with her, but no, it's just the same old thing over and over again. But instead of being sent across space or through time, or even just having her nightmares made into reality, Daisy Johnson has been sent to an alternate universe.
It had taken a while for her to accept it. Days of searching for signs of SHIELD or her friends after she'd woken up in a random midwestern cornfield, winning another laptop in a bet in a bar in order to hack into government databases — every effort had led to the same conclusion: she's on her own here.
Her friends will come to find her, she keeps telling herself. Her family won't leave her in this universe that isn't hers, where she's a genetic freak of epic proportions who a dozen governments would love to lock up in a lab. It's just a matter of time until they figure out what happened and find a way to follow. (She purposefully doesn't allow herself to consider that they may not be able to follow her and bring her home.)
Sitting in a grungy dive bar in the middle of Indiana in the town over from that cornfield, drowning her sorrows with yet another drink seems like a great way to spend a Tuesday night. With her third beer in one hand and a cellphone purchased with stolen cash in the other, she scrolls through the various news alerts she'd set up, only half paying attention to the rest of the room. If any of the drunk assholes in the room decide to cause trouble, she'll welcome the chance to let off some steam. Until then, they're not her concern so long as they stay away from the duffel bag on the seat beside her. ]
[ Dean gets the whole please for the love of everything fucking holy, find something new, because this shit is tired af feeling insanely well. If it's not selling his soul it's an apocalypse, or it's Crowley, or it's Cas, or it's Sam (again), and Dean is tired.
He's been tired since he was in his twenties, and he's tired now, pushing into his thirties. It's exhausting, the life he leads, and while he doesn't think he deserves anything more than this particular hand of cards he's been given, it would, on occasion, be nice to have an Ace.
As it is, his brother ie Elsewhere at the moment, not in Dean's immediate vicinity, probably on a hunt with Bobby or doing God knows what, but every now and then, on occasion, they need some time apart - be it forced, mutual, or via an argument. One way or another, Sam isn't in the picture when Dean walks into the roadside bar and sits a few seats down, orders a whiskey that's cheaper than he'd like, but burns in his stomach all the same.
He'd clocked everyone when he walked in; the people by the pool table, the men lounging against the wall leering at everything with a nice chest, the lone regular at the end of the bar, the extremely out of place woman at the bar, staring at her cell phone. It's a pretty dingy place for someone who looks like her to be, but hell, Dean can't judge. Sometimes you need cheap beer and a shitty atmosphere to drown away your sorrows. ]
Buy you a beer? [ He asks her, because it looks like she's had better days, and could use more alcohol in her system. ]
He's been tired since he was in his twenties, and he's tired now, pushing into his thirties. It's exhausting, the life he leads, and while he doesn't think he deserves anything more than this particular hand of cards he's been given, it would, on occasion, be nice to have an Ace.
As it is, his brother ie Elsewhere at the moment, not in Dean's immediate vicinity, probably on a hunt with Bobby or doing God knows what, but every now and then, on occasion, they need some time apart - be it forced, mutual, or via an argument. One way or another, Sam isn't in the picture when Dean walks into the roadside bar and sits a few seats down, orders a whiskey that's cheaper than he'd like, but burns in his stomach all the same.
He'd clocked everyone when he walked in; the people by the pool table, the men lounging against the wall leering at everything with a nice chest, the lone regular at the end of the bar, the extremely out of place woman at the bar, staring at her cell phone. It's a pretty dingy place for someone who looks like her to be, but hell, Dean can't judge. Sometimes you need cheap beer and a shitty atmosphere to drown away your sorrows. ]
Buy you a beer? [ He asks her, because it looks like she's had better days, and could use more alcohol in her system. ]
[ Daisy has never been one to look down on cheap alcohol. Maybe it's from so much time spent living on friends' couches and hooking up with guys just to have a place to stay, or it could be those years of living in her van. Either way, cheap beer and the greasiest diner burgers known to man have always been a staple of her diet, even when she'd had a stable career and money in her bank account. Old habits die hard when you don't really care to kick them.
The man who walks in is yet another in a sea of strangers, though he, at least, doesn't leer at her as he sits down. There's curiosity, of course, and she can't really blame him for that, but his gaze doesn't make her desperately want a shower and that goes a long way. It's probably the main reason why she turns to him and, instead of immediately shutting him down, tilts her head to the side and studies him with passive interest. ]
Is that a 'you look like shit and could use some sympathy beer' offer or an 'I'm looking to get in your pants before the night is over' offer?
[ Choose wisely, random hot guy. She doesn't give second chances. ]
The man who walks in is yet another in a sea of strangers, though he, at least, doesn't leer at her as he sits down. There's curiosity, of course, and she can't really blame him for that, but his gaze doesn't make her desperately want a shower and that goes a long way. It's probably the main reason why she turns to him and, instead of immediately shutting him down, tilts her head to the side and studies him with passive interest. ]
Is that a 'you look like shit and could use some sympathy beer' offer or an 'I'm looking to get in your pants before the night is over' offer?
[ Choose wisely, random hot guy. She doesn't give second chances. ]
Less either of those, and more.. hey, she probably needs a drink to survive all the douchebag that have walked in this bar tonight.
[ His lips twist, wry, flashing her a half smile that barely meets his eyes. No, she doesn't look like shit. Sure, he'd enjoy getting into her pants but that's not the main goal, here. He's not after anything beyond a drink himself, and maybe some enjoyable company to pass the evening away at the bar. ]
You tell me your favorite. Beer, whiskey, wine. The world is your oyster.
[ His lips twist, wry, flashing her a half smile that barely meets his eyes. No, she doesn't look like shit. Sure, he'd enjoy getting into her pants but that's not the main goal, here. He's not after anything beyond a drink himself, and maybe some enjoyable company to pass the evening away at the bar. ]
You tell me your favorite. Beer, whiskey, wine. The world is your oyster.
[ He's not wrong, and that honest observation earns him a smile in return that's a bit more heartfelt than the one he gives her. She can count on one hand the number of times she's genuinely smiled in the last few weeks — it feels good, if a bit weird. ]
I'll go with beer. Thanks. [ After another moment of watching him, she pushes the power button on her phone and sets it facedown on the bar before turning her body toward him, one elbow leaning against the edge of the bar. There's humor in her voice when she speaks again, a lightness to the words that even starts to filter into her expression. ]
You know, I've never really understood that saying. Oysters are gross and pearls are seriously overrated. Why can't it be the world is your coconut?
I'll go with beer. Thanks. [ After another moment of watching him, she pushes the power button on her phone and sets it facedown on the bar before turning her body toward him, one elbow leaning against the edge of the bar. There's humor in her voice when she speaks again, a lightness to the words that even starts to filter into her expression. ]
You know, I've never really understood that saying. Oysters are gross and pearls are seriously overrated. Why can't it be the world is your coconut?
[ He gestures to the bartender; another for her, shifting on his stool to better face her. When he'd sat down, he hadn't really been in the mood for a conversation, but he's hard-pressed to ignore a pretty girl, especially when she had a look about her that he recognized. A weight on her shoulders might be a better descriptor, and with Dean feeling like Atlas carrying the world half the time, he recognizes it when he sees it on other people. ]
It's a terrible saying. [ He agrees instantly, because honestly she's right, oysters are gross, pearls are cheap, and coconuts are far superior. ] I'd much rather have the world compared to a coconut than a slimy, salt-water bivalve mollusc.
It's a terrible saying. [ He agrees instantly, because honestly she's right, oysters are gross, pearls are cheap, and coconuts are far superior. ] I'd much rather have the world compared to a coconut than a slimy, salt-water bivalve mollusc.
[ It really is hard to miss the signs of someone who gets it, who has had the world try and crush them so many times that they can't imagine any other way of life. People like them don't get happy endings, those are fairy tales that only exist for everyone else. ]
Okay, you definitely get points salt-water bivalve mollusc. [ Her smile grows and she offers the bartender a distracted thanks as her fresh beer is deposited at her elbow. ] But really, why would you want oysters when you could have coconuts? People spend way too much money on coconut water, it's a huge industry, and you can't make pie out of oysters. Well, you probably could, but...
[ The comically disgusted look on her face conveys how she feels about that particular idea. ]
Okay, you definitely get points salt-water bivalve mollusc. [ Her smile grows and she offers the bartender a distracted thanks as her fresh beer is deposited at her elbow. ] But really, why would you want oysters when you could have coconuts? People spend way too much money on coconut water, it's a huge industry, and you can't make pie out of oysters. Well, you probably could, but...
[ The comically disgusted look on her face conveys how she feels about that particular idea. ]
Ugh. I can't imagine a lot worse than oyster pie.
[ Well -- that's not entirely true, because he's seen a lot and done a lot, and quite a bit of it is monumentally worse than a foul sounding monstrosity of a pie, but culinary wise, it's one of the most horrid things he can think of. ]
Just 'cause it could be done, doesn't mean it should.
[ Well -- that's not entirely true, because he's seen a lot and done a lot, and quite a bit of it is monumentally worse than a foul sounding monstrosity of a pie, but culinary wise, it's one of the most horrid things he can think of. ]
Just 'cause it could be done, doesn't mean it should.
Cheers to that.
[ She raises her bottle briefly before taking a sip. Fresh, cold, and cheap, just what the evening called for, though the line of conversation almost has her wishing she'd gone with whiskey like him.
Just because you can doesn't mean you should. She can't help but think of the months of her life that had been devoted to cleaning up someone else's mistake on that front. The world had almost ended because two men hadn't stopped to ask whether they should create a robot so lifelike as to be indistinguishable from humans. They hadn't thought to ask if they should have said robot read what might be one of the most dangerous books ever created. But then, if they hadn't, she wouldn't have gotten Coulson back and they might not have saved the world for the twelfth time...
Her expression loses some of that humor but none of the openness it's gained in the last few minutes. She takes another, slightly larger sip before holding the bottle between both hands. ]
So, random insightful bar guy with an impressive vocabulary: you got a name?
[ She raises her bottle briefly before taking a sip. Fresh, cold, and cheap, just what the evening called for, though the line of conversation almost has her wishing she'd gone with whiskey like him.
Just because you can doesn't mean you should. She can't help but think of the months of her life that had been devoted to cleaning up someone else's mistake on that front. The world had almost ended because two men hadn't stopped to ask whether they should create a robot so lifelike as to be indistinguishable from humans. They hadn't thought to ask if they should have said robot read what might be one of the most dangerous books ever created. But then, if they hadn't, she wouldn't have gotten Coulson back and they might not have saved the world for the twelfth time...
Her expression loses some of that humor but none of the openness it's gained in the last few minutes. She takes another, slightly larger sip before holding the bottle between both hands. ]
So, random insightful bar guy with an impressive vocabulary: you got a name?
[ Whiskey's a good drink for every occasion. Down in the dumps? Better order Jack. Night out? Time for some Jim. Drowning your sorrows? Order a Jameson.
Dean tends towards the cheaper end, but that's normally all that he can afford, but oh...when he comes into any cash, he's always thrilled to order something that's smooth and amber, that doesn't burn when it goes down, doesn't settle in his stomach like rocks.
He swirls said Jack in his glass, glancing over at her with a ghost of a smile, because he knows the look, even if he has no idea what caused it. ]
What can I say, I'm erudite. [ No, Dean. No you're not.
He is, however, smarter than he looks and smarter than a lot of people give him credit for. ]
I'm Dean. [ He puts a hand out, offering it to shake. ]
Dean tends towards the cheaper end, but that's normally all that he can afford, but oh...when he comes into any cash, he's always thrilled to order something that's smooth and amber, that doesn't burn when it goes down, doesn't settle in his stomach like rocks.
He swirls said Jack in his glass, glancing over at her with a ghost of a smile, because he knows the look, even if he has no idea what caused it. ]
What can I say, I'm erudite. [ No, Dean. No you're not.
He is, however, smarter than he looks and smarter than a lot of people give him credit for. ]
I'm Dean. [ He puts a hand out, offering it to shake. ]
[ That smile, even if it's barely there, is something she needs to see. Needs, the way she needs this conversation. It crashes into her without warning like a wave colliding with rocks along the shore — a loneliness so deep that it's in her bones. She hasn't felt it in years but it's settled in like an old unwanted friend.
So, sorry, Dean. This conversation's going to last a little longer. ]
Daisy. [ She sets her hand in his, savoring the warmth of someone else's touch for the brief moments it lasts. The vibration of his body sinks into hers, her powers pulling the frequency across her senses, and for just a moment she's not so lonely anymore. ]
So, sorry, Dean. This conversation's going to last a little longer. ]
Daisy. [ She sets her hand in his, savoring the warmth of someone else's touch for the brief moments it lasts. The vibration of his body sinks into hers, her powers pulling the frequency across her senses, and for just a moment she's not so lonely anymore. ]
Like the flower.
[ He likes daisies, they're cheerful; those and dandelions, because even if most people consider them a weed Dean doesn't. They're hardy things, sticking up through pavement and roots, living where nothing else dares. Maybe that's him, still alive simply out of spite and happenstance, sitting here in a bar with a pretty girl who's hand is warm in his. ]
It's nice to meet you.
[ He likes daisies, they're cheerful; those and dandelions, because even if most people consider them a weed Dean doesn't. They're hardy things, sticking up through pavement and roots, living where nothing else dares. Maybe that's him, still alive simply out of spite and happenstance, sitting here in a bar with a pretty girl who's hand is warm in his. ]
It's nice to meet you.
You too.
[ It makes something in her ache to withdraw her hand again, to wrap it around the cold bottle of beer. The sensation is like a tactile metaphor for her life, every bit of warmth and comfort stripped away when she was torn from the people she loves and the work that gives her life purpose. But, for just a moment, she'd been able to forget.
She's grateful for that.
Like the flower. His words bring out another smile with a fondness tinged with old pain. ]
My mom used to sing that old song to me when I was a baby. You know, the one with the bicycle built for two?
[ It makes something in her ache to withdraw her hand again, to wrap it around the cold bottle of beer. The sensation is like a tactile metaphor for her life, every bit of warmth and comfort stripped away when she was torn from the people she loves and the work that gives her life purpose. But, for just a moment, she'd been able to forget.
She's grateful for that.
Like the flower. His words bring out another smile with a fondness tinged with old pain. ]
My mom used to sing that old song to me when I was a baby. You know, the one with the bicycle built for two?
[ He squeezes it lightly, but he does let go because he's not a creep, not a weirdo (normally anyway, like sure he's a little weird with his job and he's a nerd but he's not THAT kind of weird), and he doesn't want to give her any wrong impressions. ]
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do-
[ That's what comes to mind, anyway - and now that song is going to be stuck in his head for the next YEAR. ]
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do-
[ That's what comes to mind, anyway - and now that song is going to be stuck in his head for the next YEAR. ]
That's the one. [ And sorry? At least she doesn't have any childhood attachment to the Small World song. That one will stay in your head for a full decade if you're not careful. ]
I don't actually remember her singing it, just my dad telling me about it a few years ago. [ She takes another sip of her beer, rolling the taste of it over her tongue before adding an explanation that he really doesn't need. Maybe she could blame the three and a half beers she's consumed on a mostly empty stomach. Or maybe it's that loneliness again. ] I didn't grow up with my parents.
[ The turn of the conversation hits her and she immediately shifts in her seat, moving to face the counter again with an embarrassed grimace. What the hell is she thinking? ] And that is way too personal for a bar conversation. Sorry, wow.
I don't actually remember her singing it, just my dad telling me about it a few years ago. [ She takes another sip of her beer, rolling the taste of it over her tongue before adding an explanation that he really doesn't need. Maybe she could blame the three and a half beers she's consumed on a mostly empty stomach. Or maybe it's that loneliness again. ] I didn't grow up with my parents.
[ The turn of the conversation hits her and she immediately shifts in her seat, moving to face the counter again with an embarrassed grimace. What the hell is she thinking? ] And that is way too personal for a bar conversation. Sorry, wow.
[ Sure, it's depressing, sure, but Dean can commiserate, at least in part. Besides, what are bar strangers good for, if not telling your deepest, darkest secrets?
His lips twist in a wry smirk as he taps the lip of his glass with his fingertips, tracing the edge. ]
I barely knew my mom. [ He admits, because she shared something, he can give a little. ] She died when I was four.
His lips twist in a wry smirk as he taps the lip of his glass with his fingertips, tracing the edge. ]
I barely knew my mom. [ He admits, because she shared something, he can give a little. ] She died when I was four.
[ They might just be strangers in a middle of nowhere bar but it means something that he shares that with her. Looking over at him, her expression is unreadable while she studies his face, searching for any sign he might just be messing with her. Finding none, she nods once. ]
That sucks. [ It's better than I'm sorry, at least in her mind. Everyone says they're sorry when they hear about someone else's loss but they rarely mean it. Those are the words you say when things are awkward and you don't know what else to offer this person hurting in a way you can't really understand. Everyone's pain is personal — you can only ever know your own and guess at what another is feeling. ]
Mine died when I was 26, a few weeks after I found her again. [ Daisy takes a breath, steadying herself against the wave of emotion that threatens to rise, and pushes it back down with another swallow of cheap alcohol. ]
That sucks. [ It's better than I'm sorry, at least in her mind. Everyone says they're sorry when they hear about someone else's loss but they rarely mean it. Those are the words you say when things are awkward and you don't know what else to offer this person hurting in a way you can't really understand. Everyone's pain is personal — you can only ever know your own and guess at what another is feeling. ]
Mine died when I was 26, a few weeks after I found her again. [ Daisy takes a breath, steadying herself against the wave of emotion that threatens to rise, and pushes it back down with another swallow of cheap alcohol. ]
[ No one ever knows how to react to the whole yeah, my parents are dead truth bomb. I'm sorry always feels shallow, it's the meaningless platitude that pisses him off the most, because even if the person is sorry, it's still hollow and empty and bullshit.
He nods, tipping his head as he takes a sip of his whiskey before setting it back down. ]
That's equally shitty. [ Heartbreaking, really - Dean can only guess how that feels, and he doesn't want to linger on it. If he got his mom back then lost her a few weeks later, he'd be a damn mess. ]
He nods, tipping his head as he takes a sip of his whiskey before setting it back down. ]
That's equally shitty. [ Heartbreaking, really - Dean can only guess how that feels, and he doesn't want to linger on it. If he got his mom back then lost her a few weeks later, he'd be a damn mess. ]
[ There's a lot to be angry about, for the both of them. Neither had been able to grow up the way they should have, the hope of normal childhood ripped away by forces beyond their control. Their entire lives have been shaped by losses so profound that there really isn't any way that another person could understand it unless they'd been through it too.
Raising her drink, Daisy offers a sad smile that is at odds with the strength in her voice. ] To the mothers we should have known better.
[ She'd rather not talk about the unfortunate details of her own situation, particularly since there's so much she'd never be able to tell anyone from this world, and she's got a feeling that he'd rather not discuss his own tragic past either. So, a close to that line of conversation. ]
Raising her drink, Daisy offers a sad smile that is at odds with the strength in her voice. ] To the mothers we should have known better.
[ She'd rather not talk about the unfortunate details of her own situation, particularly since there's so much she'd never be able to tell anyone from this world, and she's got a feeling that he'd rather not discuss his own tragic past either. So, a close to that line of conversation. ]
[ It isn't fair. It isn't fair, at all. He and Sam deserved a better childhood, a better life - but they were robbed of their mother and consequently, their father in a lot of ways. They didn't deserve the garbage hand they got dealt. Judging by this interaction, he thinks Daisy deserved better, too.
Dean holds his glass up, because if there's anything that he agrees with, it's that. ]
I'll drink to that. You want another?
Dean holds his glass up, because if there's anything that he agrees with, it's that. ]
I'll drink to that. You want another?
[ Daisy contemplates the offer for a moment, weighing her options. Finish the last of her drink now and head out to her van, which she'll drive to some remote location and fail at sleeping in the back of before starting the whole process over again tomorrow... Or stay and enjoy another drink with someone who doesn't seem like a disgusting garbage fire.
Yeah, it's really no contest. ]
Why not. Turns out the company here isn't so bad. [ Her eyes briefly move past him to two of the leering creeps against the wall, after which her expression turns into something resembling a grimace. ] Not in this particular spot, anyway.
Yeah, it's really no contest. ]
Why not. Turns out the company here isn't so bad. [ Her eyes briefly move past him to two of the leering creeps against the wall, after which her expression turns into something resembling a grimace. ] Not in this particular spot, anyway.
[ from here ]
Which we appreciate. The US legal system isn't exactly equipped to handle the type of weird shit we usually deal with.
Though, we could stand to have someone on retainer to handle any Inhuman cases that come up. I can't think of a better team to help these people. If you'd be interested in that sort of thing.
[ Has she been thinking about this for a while and chickening out before asking him? Yep, sure has. ]
Which we appreciate. The US legal system isn't exactly equipped to handle the type of weird shit we usually deal with.
Though, we could stand to have someone on retainer to handle any Inhuman cases that come up. I can't think of a better team to help these people. If you'd be interested in that sort of thing.
[ Has she been thinking about this for a while and chickening out before asking him? Yep, sure has. ]
I need to brush up on my legalese to be able to answer that. But basically we'd pay you to at least consider any cases that come up, or to give advice as you saw fit. You'd have final say on whether you actually did anything.
The thing is, there isn't any precedent here. The world has only known about Inhumans for a few years and things are a mess. It's only a matter of time before people start losing their jobs or their homes or their kids because some assholes are too full of hate to see that being different isn't a bad thing.
[ A few seconds later: ]
Sorry, I shouldn't have sprung it on you like this. I've just been thinking about it a lot and fearing the worst, you know? You don't have to answer now or even consider it at all. I know enhanced people can be a sensitive subject for you, so it's okay to say no.
The thing is, there isn't any precedent here. The world has only known about Inhumans for a few years and things are a mess. It's only a matter of time before people start losing their jobs or their homes or their kids because some assholes are too full of hate to see that being different isn't a bad thing.
[ A few seconds later: ]
Sorry, I shouldn't have sprung it on you like this. I've just been thinking about it a lot and fearing the worst, you know? You don't have to answer now or even consider it at all. I know enhanced people can be a sensitive subject for you, so it's okay to say no.
[ Dean would be glad to know his company is preferable to laying in the back of a van and suffering. It's flattering, really. ]
Yeah, places like this usually don't have the best clientele.
[ He gestures to the bartender for another round; whiskey for him, beer for her if she likes, or whatever else. ]
But the drinks are cheap and so's the jukebox.
Yeah, places like this usually don't have the best clientele.
[ He gestures to the bartender for another round; whiskey for him, beer for her if she likes, or whatever else. ]
But the drinks are cheap and so's the jukebox.
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