[for Various] Steve Rogers' Birthday

[onlyapassenger]

Memorial Day had passed by with little more than a couple of a beers and a five minute conversation, but Bucky'll be damned if he lets Steve's birthday go the same way. Even during the darkest days of the War, birthdays were always given the special treatment; hell, Toro once blew their cover making sure Bucky had a good one. The gruelling grind of the past couple of months is still fresh in body and mind, but in the simple preparation for the day's get-together, Bucky's found some semblance of peace.

He's not much of a party animal -- he's not even much of a planner -- but things fall into place easily enough. They set up in and around Steve's place, that nice bar of his getting some use for once. There are a couple of goats spinning on a spit outside, courtesy of Thor, and a more traditional grill manned by Bucky himself. Platters of cheeses and fruits and vegetables line a table covered in a red, white and blue tablecloth, and there's more than enough flag-themed birthday cake to go around (strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream make up the familiar stars and stripes, doubling as both food and decoration). Music from Steve's youth plays in the background out of borrowed speakers, and in lieu of streamers, there's a banner that stretches over the front door of his house that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN.

It's not a lot, but it's something.

[Open to Marvels, significant others/close friends of Marvels, and any assorted friends of Steve. This post will be linked to the main community on July 4th. Slated post here. ST/LT welcome!]

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[onlyapassenger]

It's not a huge conceit to the occasion, but Bucky's opted for jeans and a sky blue polo instead of his usual fatigues. The heat coming off the grill's making him half-wish he'd chosen shorts instead, but he makes do, ensuring there's more than enough burgers to feed the small army assembled. He's in the middle of taking a break, standing off to the side to breathe in some clear, cooler air. His face is flushed in a way that chips a few years off his already deceptive age -- though it probably helps that he actually slept the night before.

Taking a long pull from his beer, he surveys the crowd with a light expression; for as many faces as they're missing, it's always good to see so many familiar ones around, whole and healthy.

[howmanylives]

Patriotism has a bit of a different flavor after you've been smuggled away into a pocket dimension for four years. It's more nostalgic than anything else, a reminder of a bygone era when pizza could be delivered to your door and cell phones were ubiquitous. Even if it wasn't Captain America's birthday, I'd probably want to celebrate the Fourth, so I'm grateful for the invite even if it still throws me how quickly the lines between mutant and human disappear when everyone's the same.

Jamie was trying some of the goat and had a drink with a little blue umbrella, the latter of which he was enjoying so much that he wouldn't even claim he was holding it for Layla if asked. Between conversations, he'd taken to humming America the Beautiful under his breath, and he was halfway through the second verse when someone brushed up against him, sending him wildly off-key.

"Mm?"

[butterflyfactor]

"Are you drinking an Aquavelva?" Layla asked her husband, grinning a little and leaning against him.

[manwithoutfear]

I find myself grateful for the lack of fireworks. The music's quiet enough to be muffled by conversation and the crackle of cooking meat, and while there are more pleasant smells in the world, I find I'm okay so long as I stay upwind of some of the more deodorant-challenged guests. It's not a bad way to spend an afternoon, though I find myself reminded of how isolated I've come to be from most of these people -- the only people here I have left, short of Ellen and Natalya. This time next year -- if there is a next year, for me -- I might just have a son or daughter on my hip, and there's not a person here I've told yet. Having had the minute details of my life plastered all over the papers at home, I've tried my hardest to avoid that here -- perhaps heading too far into the opposite direction, playing everything so close to the vest as to become a recluse.

I frown around a strawberry and debate making the rounds.

[shewaswarned]

Ellen's just grateful she isn't one of those pregnant women who becomes increasingly bothered by different smells, or the scent of meat alone might be enough to make her run for the nearest garbage can. She's not exactly ravenous, but she hasn't hit the stage of morning sickness yet, so right now it's just a waiting game.

What she's also grateful for is Matt inviting her along - she sees some familiar faces and some new, cradling a drink (water) as she steps up alongside him, her hand briefly curving around his wrist to give it a squeeze. "Hey."

[thebettermen]

Dressed in blue and white, Charles could be mistaken as quite the patriot indeed. Having secured his second drink of the day, something that's more liquor than fruit, he picks at a slice of a cake between rounds of conversation, a gregarious smile on his face. Steve's a wonderful man -- the rare one who was truly good -- and the other attendants are just as interesting, in their own way, ex-mutant and current human alike.

[awomanscornd]

She still feels more than a little out of place among this crowd, but home is home, and Madelyne's slowly coming to grips with the fact that that sort of thing is really important. Nowhere near as easy to write off as she wishes, at the very least. Besides, even if the whole 'schmoozing with Avengers for Independence Day' thing gets to be too weird, she can always just look at it as a birthday party for her small-town art teacher, which is about as simple and blissfully boring a thing that she can possibly come up with.

"Charles," she nods in greeting, doing what she feels is an admirable job of setting aside her personal reservations to approach one of the few people from home who doesn't give her that strange sensation of precariousness that's been haunting more and more often of late. "So did your X-Men like a good party as much as the ones I knew? How universal are these things?"

[havenoplans]

Thor cannot even remember the date of his own birth, it happened so long ago, but he appreciates that mortals find comfort in keeping track of such things. He has provided much of the meat for the day's gathering, though he is particularly proud of the goats; they were a good find, plump and juicy, and he has already finished his third serving by the time he ventures in search of more drink.

He fills a heaping glass of some Midgardian spirits and lifts his glass in a toast, declaring to the nearest person, "To our friend!"

[un_gloved]

She couldn't imagine anyone not responding enthusiastically to Thor's general exuberance, and Rogue lifted her bottle of beer in return.

"Here's to Cap."

[learnfromthem]

Okay, so this is new. Not that I haven't chilled out with Avengers before, but most of the time they were either my age or, like, Clint. Today, though, I've apparently scored a personal invite to Captain America's birthday. That's a thing that's happening.

Barbecue means casual, so I find a halter sundress for the party, white with mini purple polkadots and a flared skirt. I keep the shoes simple, just a pair of magenta ballet flats, and pull my hair back into a messy fishtail braid, wearing it over my shoulder. I look nice, respectable without being dressed to the nines, and I try to act like I belong here, filling my plate with fruits and veggies and steering clear of anything greasy that might stain.

[notaparker]

"Billy and Teddy's friend, right?" I say, having absently sidled closer to someone closer to my own age while casting the occasional sideways glance at the other attendee in purple.

He seems nice enough, honestly. A Hulk-variant once punched me into a floor and then I woke up here, is all. It's a thing.

"Also neighbor. Um, which I know because we are also neighbors, not because of stalking. Probably wasn't a concern until I said that."

[daretodo]

Here we are again. Captain America's birthday -- and who can seriously believe it's on Independence Day? I mean, come on. It's like the guy was born to be a sentinel of liberty or something.

Wearing anything with a flag on it seemed kinda tacky given whose birthday it is, but that doesn't stop me from wearing the loudest Hawaiian shirt I can find over a pair of khaki board shorts. No one asked for fireworks this year, so I'm left to socialize -- not my specialty these days. Flying solo at events like this has more or less become the norm for me, but this one's at least a little less painful than the norm. I know most of these guys, so I can relax a bit, feeling free to take up two chairs to kick my feet up as I tear through a second piece of cake.

[bannered]

Bruce's colors are - slightly more subdued, per usual, but it's a little difficult to get completely dressed up when the clothes box keeps giving him shirts in varying jewel tones - namely, green and purple. If he didn't know better, he'd say there was some irritating pattern at work, but he's not in the habit of turning away clothes just because he wants a little variety. If anything, he wants to blend in, not be noticed.

He sticks to the fringes of the party, but Peter's shirt is sort of its own conversation starter, so he takes a seat nearby, sitting in one of the open chairs with a drink in his hand. "How's the cake?"

[notawastedlife]

If the aliens from Independance Day were to pick this year to show up, Tony reflected, it probably wouldn't go well for them. Just check out this crowd. There was- he wasn't going to do a role call. There were a lot of people who could make troublesome aliens' day very unpleasant, they were all standing around a grill chatting nicely. Mostly nicely. He was trying for nice.

This was... probably preferable. Suit was shaky, he was trying not to make a thing of it, but it had seen some wear and tear. Also not unlike... everyone standing around the grill.

Listening to- wow. "This is surreal," he decided.

[apoorupbringing]

"You're gonna have to be more specific," Chase said, stopping at Tony's elbow with his hands in his pockets. The facts that Chase was a) welcomed and b) not the oldest person there were thoroughly freaking him out.

[daretodo]

"What were you saying again, about dating or whatever?" I ask, because in light of the news from ol' Jade Jaws, my love life (and continued lack thereof) is back at the forefront of my mind.

[learnfromthem]

"You're not used to this?"

I don't actually know if this guy likes me-me or not, but I think I can more or less say the same thing about the Tony Stark at home, too. Not that it really matters, I guess. It's a party and I'm just a little bit tipsy on a glass of punch that was more spiked than I thought it was going to be and parties mean mingling.

So I'm, like, mingling.

[bannered]

"You too, huh?"

It's safe to say that Bruce has never imagined himself at a barbecue - and especially not one held by various other card-carrying members of the Avengers initiative, whether from past or present or another universe entirely. Still, it feels - good, in a weird sense, to bring everyone together. It puts him oddly at ease and on edge at the same time.

He shifts to stand next to Tony, glancing down at the suit with a tilt of his head.

"Aren't you warm in that?"

[onlyforthedream]

It was the absolute last thing on my mind until I came back from the morning routine of running, hitting up the Compound for breakfast, a shower, and checking in at the council office to find Bucky hanging a banner.

I didn't even put up a pretense of objecting. It's so rare to see Bucky looking at ease or anything vaguely resembling happy that even if it wasn't tradition, with us, to consider birthdays excessively important, I wouldn't have had the heart to nay-say it.

It's nice, for a day, for the primary concern to be whether or not the goats Thor set up to cook will perturb anyone. They haven't so far. And the music is great, so all in all, Bucky made the right call.

[onlyapassenger]

Bucky possesses few skills that aren't related to survival or war. With recent events having eaten up most of his time and options on the island as limited as they are, Steve's present isn't anything special: a few reels pilfered from the shelf to remind him of a simpler time and some blank notebooks he could use to sketch in, all 'wrapped' in a plain canvas bag. When the last of the meat's been cooked and Bucky finally has a quiet second, he wanders towards Steve with the bag in hand and holds it out.

"Don't say I never gave you anything."

[notawastedlife]

"Okay, actually, though?" Tony said, as if they'd both been involved in the debate he'd been having with himself for several minutes until he'd turned around and found Steve there. "It is actually today? They didn't just make you pretend like it is?"

[manwithoutfear]

With Ellen settled for the moment, I decide to pay my respects to the man of the hour.

"Dare I ask how old this makes you?"

[wasafreak]

With each party or event it became a little less intimidating for Teddy to stand in a room, or around a bonfire (complete with spitted goats), with various heroes of legend and his childhood icons. If he thought about any of it too hard, that feeling of belonging went away, but there was a basic level of comfort born, he supposed, of familiarity, and it was kind of nice.

He was experiencing something new, also, in that he had a drink in one hand, cake in the other, and his glasses had slipped down his nose. He was still relatively unused to those, and was contemplating the least conspicuous way to push them up again.

[learnfromthem]

I reach out with my index finger and push Teddy's glasses back up his nose.

"It's still weird seeing you in those things."

[notaparker]

Future-me-that-I'll-never-be is on the Ultimates. I don't know what that's like. Not her, may never end up being her, I don't know how the timelines work. But presumably used to rubbing shoulders with said Ultimates (who are actually Avengers. Gotta admit I kind of like it better, it's got a better style, less blatant self-promotion). I should... also be used to that, or at least not be intimidated. They're just people. I've chatted with a bunch of them.

Still, though, kind of gravitating to the people my age who aren't crazy famous punchers of people from space.

(I could totally punch people from space. If I had a shot.)

[apoorupbringing]

"Hey, Jess," Chase said, ambling over with a beer in one hand. Having never been a member of any of the official hero clubs- and, in fact, having been the bane of several of those clubs' existences at one time or another- Chase found himself feeling frequently not-that-bothered by the A Lister shindigs that went down on the island.

"Where's your girl?"