Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

[bossyboiler]

Who: Everyone.
When: Wednesday evening, Jan 11th
Where: A rented out bar, downtown.
Summary: The wake for George Milton.
Warnings: N/A (will update as needed)

If anyone of the forcibly kidnapped to Gloucester deserved to be remembered, it was George Milton. In many ways, he was the best of them. He had been kind. He had always been willing to help and lend a hand. Unlike some whose first choice was violence (because what else was there), he had chosen to forgo that route and had come up with a much more clever solution. The solution saved lives.

It had not felt right to have a formal service for him. To put it simply, he was not a formal person. And so after much calling around, a bar had been found where they could rent out the entire place before business got too busy. It was just for a couple of hours. People could come and say nice things about George. It's what he deserved after all.

So come on in, have a beer or two, and sit a spell. Maybe you'll feel like sharing a story about George or maybe you're just there to pay your respects. There's a break in the weather, the clouds only filling up half of the nighttime sky. No acid snow for tonight.

Comments

Kate - OTA

[bossyboiler]

Early

Kate is one of the first to arrive. She's there for setup. While there is some food available in the form of finger foods and pub grub, she's brought cookies. Sugar cookies to be specific, and they are all in the shape of a fish. Why fish? It had made her smile in remembrance as she cut them all out and then decorate them with frosting. She sits the cookies with the rest of the food.

She'll be there for greeting and maybe a shoulder to lean on.

Middle

"Remember the fish?" Kate asks a person near her. "It was so smelly but it worked."

Late

She tries to do most of the cleanup herself which involves taking containers of left over finger food and cookies and loading them in one of the borrowed vans from ADI. Why by herself? She doesn't want to intrude on anyone this evening. She wants to let people be. Does that mean she'll turn away an offer to help? No.

After cleanup, she'll hang out in the bar for a bit.

Early

[ployboy]

Truth be told, he didn't expect to attend a wake so soon-- or... ever, frankly. Which is dumb given the danger of their work and location, but injuries and casualties had been... different for ADI recruits.

Anyway. No. Tim hadn't known George.

It doesn't stop him from slinking through the doors, finding some seats and tables in the process of being rearranged, and volunteering his efforts to the cause. One table he's pushing up against another is destined for foods and things, and Tim blinks up at Kate before shyly saying, "Okay, that's cute."

Because fish.

[bossyboiler]

She remembers him.

"Thanks and thank you. I think George would have found it funny." The tables are pushed together and some of the food has already been put out. "Tim right? Do you think you could help me bring in a few more things?"

Malcolm Bright and/or Neal Caffrey; OTA

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is devastated. Devastated. Unlike the close friends and family that had disappeared, whose fates weren't certain - whose fates were even more uncertain in the wake of Tim's return - George is dead. Malcolm knows with the lead weight of certainty, because he'd seen the body. He found it, in fact. That part doesn't bother him, really. Dead bodies are a day on the job where he's from. But he's taking the loss of George hard and he does not stray more than a few steps away from Neal. He's nursing a glass of whiskey through the evening and he's much quieter than usual. He listens to people's stories, he watches, he thinks. He doesn't touch the food.

Early

[failedpromise]

It doesn't take long for Cortana to turn up.

"Hey Kate." She's wearing one of the dress shirts George willed her, and she looks ...tired. She moves like she's tired, too, giving only a half hearted little wave before finding somewhere to sit at the bar.

She can't actually eat anything, so she doesn't actually notice the fish cookies at first, but when she does, she can't help but snort.

[bossyboiler]

"Hi Cortana," Kate replies as she puts out some more cookies. She had baked a lot of them (maybe too much) and she hopes that people like them. Once she is done she gives the hologram her full attention. She offers a smile.

She isn't going to comment on how tired Cortana looks. In her mind saying that a woman looks tired is saying that she looks old. "Like the fish?"

[ployboy]

It's still strange to think he should be viewing everything different when life went on in Gloucester without him. Tim's started to think of it as just-- like returning to Gotham after those months away. You relearn.

He nods.

"Just tell me what to do," he says, and wow if that isn't some weight off his shoulders to expect instructions coming his way. "I was kinda hoping to just stay busy anyway."

Both is good.

[bossyboiler]

Kate has been waiting for Malcolm to arrive. She knew that Neal would be with him but she's not really worried about Neal. She is worried about Malcolm and how he's doing after he told her he had found George's body.

She catches him when he is about a step and a half away from Neal. Kate goes in for a hug whether he likes it or not. He needs one.

Either one or both!

[ployboy]

Tim's found a way to stick to his purpose: he moves plates of food here and there depending on where the crowd migrates, he picks up and takes out trash before the bins get too full for the sake of appearances, he even announces the upcoming curfew for the sake of whoever that might inconvenience tonight. He's dressed neat enough despite heavy jeans, though he wonders if the detachment he's felt during the whole thing is sensible or simply the accumulation of too many similar experiences.

Naturally, eventually, he goes to join the familiar faces.

The first thing he does approaching is reach a hand for a momentarily unattended glass of whiskey. It's worth a try.

[bossyboiler]

"Great! Thanks so much. This way. My name is Kate if you don't remember." And it's out the front door of the pub and over to the street parking where there's one of ADI's vans waiting. There's not much to carry in but a tray of vegetables with dips and a tray of cheese and meats. There are also some plates that need to be brought in.

She takes out the first tray and offers it to Tim. "Wanting to stay busy, huh? Were you and George close?"

Andrew Jaeger - OTA

[bloodalwaystells]

In some ways, it's easier to be professional in a situation like this. To dress appropriately, to be there at a set time, to nurse a beer and maintain a polite, distant demeanor.

Jaeger is dressed in his usual turtleneck and slacks, hair combed neatly with a glint of hematite-metal, big and solemn and solid as he ever is. He arrives a bit early and lingers in the cold air for a few minutes before he goes in, and does his best not to think too much.

But the fish cookies make him laugh, a breathy gust of half-restrained sound. And then he isn't sure what else to do, what else to say.

He's used to funerals as a professional courtesy, but actually mourning? That's something different. It's something hes never really been able to allow himself. And just as he thinks he's caught his breath after Garner, it all hits him all over again.

So...distance, and composure, and doing his best not to think about it too much. And keeping a watchful eye on the bar, both inside and outside, to give everyone else the space and security *they* need to mourn.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm’s eyes are shiny with unshed tears when he turns at the movement at the corner of his vision, but he sags a little with relief that it’s Tim.

“Oh hi.” He frowns faintly, gesturing towards his own glass in Tim’s hand. “I thought you didn’t like that stuff.” His voice is shaky and he has no idea whether Tim is still 18 and it seems insensitive to ask. Tim’s touchy about the whole being disappeared thing. “Do… you want some juice or someth… chocolate milk?” A beat. “Red Bull?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm awkwardly pats her elbow with the hand not holding his drink, but looks around for Neal - he got too far away from Neal - with wide eyes looking for help.

[bossyboiler]

Kate lets him go and then steps back. "Hey. I've been worried about you." She follows Malcolm's gaze over to Neal and then turns her undivided attention back to Malcolm. "How are you?"

[ployboy]

"Kate," he repeats more for her than for himself to hear. There's the distracting satisfaction of knowing her well enough to call her a first victim. Tim would scrub that entire history if he could. He follows obediently, shouldering doors open for her when he can.

So begins his career in food service.

"Uhm, the opposite, I think," Tim clarifies as he takes the tray. He doesn't sound or seem shameful in disclosing the fact. "I never met him. But I do know he was a good friend to Malcolm."

[bossyboiler]

Kate is going to try and speak to everyone that comes in and out from the cold. They've made the effort to be here. Besides, she doesn't know who is hurting and who is just there to offer support. They may need a shoulder to cry on and just not have had the time to realize their grief yet.

She approaches Andrew during the middle of the wake. She's wearing a simple black dress with her hair pulled back. She didn't have any darker-colored dresses to wear and a bright color wouldn't have been appropriate. Oh, it's true that this event is less formal than an actual funeral service but Kate didn't want to push boundaries tonight.

When she approaches, she has a cocktail in one hand with a soft smile on her face. "I'm glad you could make it Andrew."

welp here we go again, cw underage?? drinking

[ployboy]

The accumulation of too many similar experiences is what keeps Tim from hurting more from seeing Malcolm like that. Tim's expression smooths to tangible understanding of what he supposes Malcolm must be feeling, all of him in the present and eyes meeting his before Tim drums his fingers against the glass.

He lifts it. "When did I say that I didn't like... whatever this is?" he presses, seizing the moment to (elegantly) steal the sip.

Whiskey, it turns out, is worse than wine. Whiskey tastes tart, and like regret. Tim does not pull a face, though he stills for a second before setting the glass back in Malcolm's hands. It's a strong drink, and Tim can see the benefit of, like, downing a bottle.

Okay.

Uh.

"I'll... get some water later," he says, admitting defeat. He rocks back on his heels, not wanting to fidget and not wanting to seem childish either. "Hey, Malcolm?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is looking down into his drink, but returns his attention to Tim at his name.

“Mm?”

[ployboy]

The privilege of growing up, one that Tim has his wars with, right now just means it's easier to do what he wants and not care what anybody else may think.

It's a little awkward, physically, because Malcolm is sitting and Tim is not, but he embraces the man regardless. He's careful of Malcolm's hands, he's careful to not press tight until or unless there's some permission. But Tim also just as quickly makes himself comfortable with pressing one side of his head to Malcolm's. He says, "It hurts to lose a friend this way. I know. And I'm so sorry, Malcolm. I know George was a friend of yours."

Late

[easilyamused]

"You pack, I'll carry," Methos suggests as he fetches up alongside her near the partially-demolished array of snacks. As event cleanup goes, the damage doesn't look too bad - better, certainly, than he'd been halfway anticipating, following the disaster that had been the last large ADI gathering.

Perhaps even the agents of unspeakable horror know better than to interrupt a wake at a bar this well-established.

[failedpromise]

She's not a hologram anymore, though here in the bar her human illusion looks the same as it always has. Beneath it though is no longer a construction of hard light but one of rubber and plastic and steel.

"I do. I think he'd have liked them too."

[abrightboy]

It surprises him, that Tim hugs him. Not in the same way that Kate’s hug surprised him… though he also isn’t always sure Tim likes him either. But he returns it with his free arm, squeezing his eyes shut.

“The others might be alive,” he whispers back. “You are. You came back. But George is dead. Really dead. I didn’t even know he went to that fight.”

[bossyboiler]

"My hero." Kate responds to his suggestion with a small smile. She is grateful for the offer of help. The sun is long gone and what little warmth it had provided is long gone. It's cold outside. More people to help means fewer trips out into the night to put things back in the van.

She has a plan. Along with the van, she'll take the left over food back to ADI. The van will get parked and the food put into the refrigerators in the lunch room. The food will still be good in the morning. At least that is her plan once she leaves the bar. It's cold enough outside that the food will be fine.

Kate starts the process of gathering everything up. "Did you ever get to meet George?"

[bossyboiler]

"I do too. I think he would have found them funny." She smiles and then frowns. It's just a little bit of grief slipping in. Kate wills it away and the gentle smile soon returns. "How are you doing?"

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey's another one who spends time away from everybody, to give them their distance. Because he's got no clue what the fuck to do with this. He's got no clue how to act on things like this. He knows what everyone expects him to do and he just...can't.

So he spends time outside, away from everybody, letting the chill of the evening calm him. When he spots Jaeger, he gives him a little nod. "Got a match?" he asks, as he reaches for his cigarettes.