theresalwayshope | meet the (grand)parents...

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meet the (grand)parents...

Allison felt a little like she was going insane.

She started out just planning to invite Aramis and Porthos over to meet Jason. Dinner and drinks, nothing big. Then she realized she didn't just feel obligated to invite Athos, she wanted to. So, if she did that, she obviously had to invite D'artagnan, and she really wanted to meet Constance...and she'd promised Grey a chance to help her bake a cake, so if she did something more than dinner, she could let him come over at some point...

The small family dinner became a small dinner party, and with a few more additions morphed into an impromptu potluck for the whole building...or anyone that wanted to show up. She told the family about it privately, asking Porthos and Aramis to make sure the others at least stopped by (with a subtle warning that Jason would be there), told everyone else she knew in the city, and for the rest of the building she posted a couple of handmade fliers: one in the elevator, and another in the laundry room announcing that, with either a main course or appetizer offering, an invitation to the holiday celebration taking place in apartment #39...dressy casual to formalwear welcome, bring your favorite Christmas CD as a bonus.

And, of course, she told Jason...and told him her family would be there.

By the night of the party, Allison was ready...she just felt a little like she was going insane.

She kept her outfit cute, but simple, and took care of dessert by baking some cupcakes, gingerbread cookies, and a two layer chocolate cake which she invited Grey over to help her bake. With a little careful scheduling, she also managed to contribute to the food on hand with her second ever attempt at beef bourguignon: rich, hearty, and sort of impressive under the right circumstances. By party time, she had her front door standing open, some Trans Siberian Orchestra carols playing on her stereo, and while she didn't yet have a tree, she'd gotten some cute plastic holly garland to hang around the apartment, and for fun had ringed her whole living room ceiling in multicolor Christmas lights for good measure.

The party was good to go. The place smelled good, the food came out okay with more to come...the evening was good to go.

And when Jason showed up, her family would show up...and they'd all meet each other...

While she waited for her guests, loved ones, and boyfriend to start arriving, Allison puttered around in her kitchen, swore to herself she was not hiding, and tried to pretend that she wasn't having visions of someone either drawing a sword or a knife by the end of the evening.

Tonight had to be perfect.

(HOLIDAY GATHERING POST! Treat it thusly. :P Front door's open, come and go as you please, anyone in the Bramford Building is welcome, and if you know Allison even remotely she told you about the party. Gather at will, and leave a call for Allison in your subject line if you want to play with her directly! Open eternally, will probably be linked near the end of the month. :D)

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"I actually don't have half-naked pictures of my body readily available to show people on my phone, but I can definitely see what you'd mistake me for that kind of guy." Newt's maybe being overly facetious, but he flashes her a grin to show it before holding his left arm out so she can get a better look. "Mine are all kaiju. I studied these things, that was like, my entire life back in my world. This one was called Yamarashi."

If Newt were someone else, he might have squirmed from all the attention his new acquaintance is paying him, might have felt awkward because of the way she's staring and how she says the tattoos are beautiful, like she's never seen anything like them before. But Newt's not someone else, and he thrives under attention, so he does what he always does and preens. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, revealing a peek of the tattoo portrait on his chest that ends just under his, spanning the length of his collarbone. "This one's Ceramander. Took two jagers to bring this guy down in Hawaii, which I realize means nothing to you but it was a nasty little guy."

He drops his arm back down to his side, arching an eyebrow at her explanation of her own tattoos. "Factions, huh? We kind of had something like that, too. The people who were content to just wait for the world to end and the Resistance." He holds his hands out, displaying his tattoos again. "I was part of the Resistance. What was the faction you chose all about?"

Obviously, he's passionate about these creatures, going on at length about them using words I can't quite translate. Instead, I just follow the spiraling lines, trying to imagine what a real one must look like. I find it's beyond the scope of my own imagination but his movements, his enthusiasm, put life into the pictures.

Dauntless would have welcomed him.

"I was born into a faction called Abnegation. They believed in selfless acts, forgetting yourself in the pursuit of caring for others," I explain, twisting a little to show the joined hands on the back of my right shoulder. "And then I chose Dauntless. The soldiers. They believe cowardice is the root of all problems. They also believe in bold deeds...tattoos that declare yourself to others."

Newt blinks, turning the words over in his head for a moment because this Dauntless thing sounds like what he would have chosen to, but he's sure as hell no soldier. He's not really selfless, can't really say he'd put anyone else first, except for Kate and a very select few others. He's not the guy who dives headfirst into danger for the sake of others, he does it as a means to an end that'll satisfy his curiosity, his need to know how things work.

That tattoos, they're reminders of why he'd joined the Resistance. On days that he'd found himself feeling too exhausted to keep facing disappointment after disappointment, of not being able to figure out exactly how to end all the death and destruction because a two-man team can only get so much done at once, the tattoos had made him remember that he'd taken the job--and kept it even after everyone else in the K-science department had abandoned their posts--for a reason. He hadn't just wanted to understand the kaiju, he'd needed to understand them, and he'd succeeded. But he'd done it for himself.

He wonders where that would have put him, between the two factions she's told him about.

"Soldiers, huh?" he asks, leaning his head forward just slightly to get a better look at the tattoo of the hands on her shoulder. "What is it that you were fighting for?"

"They told us we were keeping the city safe, keeping out anything that lived beyond the fence." I shrug, shaking my head. "The five factions all had different roles. Abnegation were leaders and Dauntless were the defenders."

My tattoos are tombstones now. Every single bird represents a person lost to me, through death or separation. Mostly death. Abnegation and Dauntless' marks remind me of who I was and who I can never really be. I'm too Divergent.

I shouldn't be thinking about this tonight. It's not a fit conversation for a party. Christmas, as I understand it, is about gift-giving, celebrating loved ones and kindness. An Amity kind of holiday. I knew I could never be Amity.

"I chose Dauntless because I wanted to be brave."

Well, shit.

Sometimes he forgets he's not the only one who'd come from a world gone wrong--and maybe to this gal, that's exactly how the world should have been, maybe her factions had mattered, but at the same time, he thinks that doesn't seem so right. Maybe she'd been the kind of person who could see things differently.

She'd wanted to be brave, she says, and Newt can understand that. He's not the guy to stick his neck out most of the time, no, but when he believes in something, he tends to stop at nothing to attain it. He'd been ordered not to Drift with the kaiju brain, but he'd done it and that's the only way they could have really discovered how to end that war.

He's not sure it's so much courage on his part as it is an irreversible sense of stubbornness, but he'd saved the world so he hadn't really heard a whole lot of complaints about his problem with obeying authority.

"I was a scientist," he tells her, "the only one left who could do what I did. The kaiju, they were basically these engineered biological weapons that came out of a Breach in the Pacific and after awhile, people started to get too freaked out to believe it could ever end." Outside of the 'Dome, outside of Pentecost's army of dedicated resistors, people had been foolish enough to believe in those walls, and Newt still finds himself shaking his idea at the very thought it. "These things were responsible for a lot of death and destruction so most people didn't really understand why I'd get them inked but... Y'know. They're reminders. They were reminders of why being the last kaiju biologist standing was so important."

It's weird to be talking about this here, not exactly the ideal setting for heavy subject, and there's a brief pause between them before Newt huffs a humorless laugh and breaks into a smile. "So anyway, Comedy Hour with Newt is totally coming to an end now, Christ. We can talk about like, cookies and snowflakes now if you want. Oh, that's my name, by the way. Newt."

"Erudite," I say without thinking. "Scientists, teachers, inventors..they were in Erudite."

I try to imagine his world. I've heard of the Pacific Ocean, mostly how it had encroached completely on the west coast because of the war. Monsters were one of the things that we speculated might lie beyond the fence. I'll never know now. The unending uncertainty, however, I know well. "There was...a war, a bad one. Afterwards, my city formed the faction system. Each faction was based around what they thought had been the cause of discord. Selfishness, cowardice, ignorance..."

I know now that people are too complex, that the system was broken long before my Divergence and I were born. I can never return to that city.

"Mine are reminders too, I guess. For people I cared about or people I lost."

When he cracks that joke, I smile too mostly because the weight of all we're discussing sits heavy on us both. "Tris," I say. "Tris Prior. And I'm sorry...I don't now much about Christmas, but I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to get so dark."

Erudite is an appropriate enough name for a faction like that. There had been a very distinct separation between the jaeger pilots, the engineers, the scientists, even the LOCCENTers, and most time, they hadn't all gotten along--but in the end, they'd all had to work together to take down the kaiju, the Precursors. Well, kind of. He'd very much like to challenge anyone from back home, ask any number of the people in the 'Dome who'd been the one to have the guts to Drift with a kaiju. Had it been any of them? No, it had been Newt and then he'd done it again.

So what faction would he really be in if they were playing the sorting game? He's not too sure. Maybe he wouldn't fit into any one faction at all, that sounds more likely than anything else.

"Y'know, I was really pissed off when I first got to Darrow but now, it's just like... I mean, I don't know, it sucks that we can't leave and there are maybe a handful of people I miss but there's no war here, not like yours or mine, I mean. No factions, no potential for facing death every single day." In a way, it's the implants versus the so-called locals but even then, it's not exactly the same as waking up in a rapidly deteriorating world.

He pauses, narrowing his eyes at himself before smirking. "And I'm back to the taboo Christmas party talk, we're super cheerful. You get what I mean, though? Do you miss your world or is it better for you here?"

"No, I'm not too good at this either, am I?" I say, forcing a smile. This city...I don't know if it's good or bad. It just is. At times, it seems stable, almost safe. Then I go for a jog in the park and end up trapped in a tank from my fear landscape, drowning.

But I don't know that I would have found people like Allison, who's as kind as she is brave.

Most of the time, I don't know who I even am.

"So...my world doesn't have Christmas. Can you explain the tree?"

"It's cool, we'll just ban ourselves from talking about terrible things for the rest of the party. Although, that means we have to come up with a proper punishment if either of us violates that rule, otherwise it's totally pointless."

He glances around the room, trying to think up something that'll work well enough until he spots the table covered with cookies and candy canes and cupcakes and whatever else Allison had laid out like the excellent host she is. "Okay, how about if we catch each other saying something about how shitty our old worlds were, we eat one of the sweets. Seems like it wouldn't be much of a punishment now but trust me, after more than a few of those things, we'd be full of nothing but regret."

That suggestion doesn't actually stop him from wanting a cookie, to be completely honest, and he nods for Tris to follow as he heads over to the table. They pass by the tree on their way there, and Newt glances at it for a moment with a crooked smile. "Oh, Christmas tree, how do I explain thee? The actual origin depends on who you ask, I guess, but one of the theories is pagan roots. Surprise, surprise. Another theory is that pagan Europeans who converted to Christianity would decorate the trees to scare away the devil." He shrugs, grabbing at one of the sugar cookie reindeer and biting down on its head. "Either way, sure smells nice."

I laugh and hold out a hand to shake on it and then I follow him to the food table, laden with more sweets than I think I've ever seen in one place. It's hard not to grin and think of Uriah, determined to eat a whole cake by himself.

"I'll take that challenge then. It only takes about two cookies before I'm stuffed." I hold up one little reindeer, exaggerating my short, skinny stature.

When he talks about pagans, I can't help even more curiosity. "What did the pagans use them for? I don't know, actually."

Listening for his answer, I polish off two sugar cookies.

"I mean, it's kind of hard to pinpoint exactly what they did, there's all kinds of accounts. General consensus is that they'd cut down an evergreen and bring it home to decorate to honor their gods. It was called a 'heathen tradition' for a long time until hey, all of a sudden, sixteenth century rolls around and Western Germany decides it's totally cool to decorate a tree because this time, it's celebrating the Festival of Adam and Eve. Only at Christmastime, though, otherwise it would just be weird."

He rolls his eyes because none of it really makes sense but then again, Newt had always loved Christmas--Weihnachten, rather--because it had meant two holidays, the 25th and 26th, in a row. Plus presents and the roast he'd always help his papa make, one he thinks he'll probably attempt this year for Kate even though he hasn't tried in in years, since long before he'd joined the Jaeger Academy.

"Y'know," he says, observing her eat her two cookies with amusement, "if you're only good for a couple before you're stuffed, you've already screwed yourself over. That's way more pressure to keep the rest of this party light than you ever needed. I'm kind of at an unfair advantage, I'll be honest with you. Two cookies is probably about a solid tenth of how many it'll really take to get me full."

"They sound like nice traditions anyway." Really nice, ancient and mystical but also with their own kind of beauty. Walking down the street, I've been able to smell the pine needles, mixed with cinnamon and apple cider and hot chocolate. The smells are comforting, making the hard days easier.

The day after I'd been rescued from the tank, I'd bought a wreath for my door and sweet smelling candles and lit them in my apartment. Still scared and still aching from my near brush with hypothermia, the soft lights had eased my pain and fear.

"I can see why ancient pagans liked them so much. All the lights in the darkest part of winter, you know?"

Newt nods, gaze shifting to the tree Allison had set up for the party, and he smiles softly. "Yeah, it's nice. I've been here a little over a year, y'know, so I got the whole holiday spirit thing last year, too, but..." He shrugs, taking another bite of his cookie and using the back of his hand to wipe the crumbs from his lips. "Before I got my ass dropped here, we didn't really make much room for Christmas or anything like that. Kind of hard when the world could end any day and all, I guess."

He's always been a fan of holidays, with Halloween being his favorite--even moreso now that it's not only the anniversary of his first date with Kate but also the anniversary of their wedding--and Christmas a close second, so he'd made an effort every year without much return fanfare. Hermann had indulged him most of the time, even Pentecost had kept quiet about the way Newt would decorate the lab, but for the most part, the concentration had always been on what devastation the next day might bring.

"It's nice," he admits with a shrug, "being somewhere that actually allows for celebration. Even if it means none of us can leave."

It is nice. Even though I don't know the holiday, it seems to have put something into the whole city. Even in the face of darker realities, there seems to be a greater softness in people, as if buoyed on by hope. Whether or not it's to do with religion or just the soft, small lights against white snow, I can't say for certain.

"I think I like holidays. This...seems a lot more generous than Choosing Day. Giving gifts and being kind...I like the sound of all of that," I say.

This place can be cruel. Even Allison, the host of the party, knows that since she's seen the worst of me here. Even so, a place with Christmas can't be too terrible.

Newt doesn't know what Choosing Day is, but they're not supposed to be talking about depressing things and as far as he can tell, it doesn't sound like it could be anything especially awesome--not from what he's heard about her world so far, at least. So he brushes past that, nodding with a smile instead and breaking off another piece of his cookie to eat.

"I still have to use one of my gifts from last year," he admits. "My wife-- Well, she was my girlfriend at the time but still, totally my wife now anyway, but she gave me this gift certificate to one of the tattoo shops." He gestures to the left side of his chest, glancing down even though he knows there's nothing there to see. "I have one space left, was saving it for something epic. I've known for a long time what I want it to be, I just-- Life just kind of happens, y'know? I never found the time."

Yeah, life kind of happens. Being stabbed had happened, more specifically, and he hates the scar that's been left behind even if he's pretty much accepted the fact that it's not going anywhere. It's only been recently that he's gotten more comfortable with the idea of someone--the tattoo artist--other than Kate see him without his shirt on again.

"Anyway, what about you? Any more tattoos on your agenda?"

"Congratulations," I say, because that seems to be the done thing to acknowledge a recent marriage. Not that I know much about marriage customs here, which is just another thing that leaves me stranded in space and time. Saying as much breaks the rule my new friend has set for me and I'm glad when he asks about tattoos.

"Sometimes I think about getting my faction's motto tattooed on me. Even though the people didn't always live up to it, but the manifesto still means a lot to me." Before he can say I've broken the rule, I put on a thin smile, "We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another."

I still want to live up to those words. Not for an instructor's approval or to pass as normal in my city, but because I think those ideals still have meaning.

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meet the (grand)parents...

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