wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[The good news: they get out. They escape Norfinbury, and once they're out of the town's iron grip, all of its effects on them disappear - no more MN poisoning, no more radiation sickness. They're still malnourished and underfed, and the dead among them are still dead, but they're out.

The bad news? They can't go home yet.

It's some sort of time- and universe-travel issue, which Alfie honestly isn't even trying to understand in full. Using the town's power, they'd opened up a portal, but they hadn't had time to fine-tune it. When they'd all jumped through, they hadn't even been sure it would work - but with the town collapsing around them, they'd all been desperate enough to try anyway. It had ended up dumping them all at random into New York City - or some version of it, anyway - in the early twentieth century. Stark and the other tech wizards are working hard on the issue, pooling their knowledge and using this world's resources to figure out how to safely repair and direct the portal to send them all back home, or wherever else they want to go. The ones who can't help with that are, essentially, left to their own devices. Tony the billionaire sets them up in a nice hotel in a decent neighborhood, and provides them with enough money to live comfortably on as long as they don't go too crazy with spending. For Alfie, Royce, Emily, and Tifa, he's able to find a two-bedroom suite that's available to be rented by the month. Nobody knows how long they're going to be stuck, and nobody wants to take the chance of being left without lodging.

After all the trauma of the past few months and the chaos of the past few days, their little group isn't wild about splitting up even just for a few hours. But Emily desperately needs a doctor's checkup, and Tifa convinces Alfie and Royce to go ahead and scope out the room while she (with help and advice from the more modern doctors) takes her to a pediatrician. And so they go.

The hotel is towering, and looking up at it makes Alfie feel dizzy, so he focuses straight ahead as they approach the front entrance and its automatic revolving door. He has the envelope with their room number and key, and as they walk, he hands it to Royce.]

We're on the sixty-first floor - larger rooms at the top only. Fucking hell, I hope they've got a lift.

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[ Royce snorts. ]

Wouldn't want to deprive you of your signature look. There was one more. [ Royce takes the bottle of wine and heads to the same bedroom as Alfie, because he's actually not looking to be alone for once. He'll chill in the comfy armchair in the corner with his bottle and glass. ]

[Alfie's already unbuttoning his pants as he goes in, and comes out half a minute later in the robe, he tugs at the hood, which he doesn't have up, and gives Royce a grin.]

Wouldn't want to copy your look.

[ Royce huffs out a laugh, taking a pretty significant swig of his wine. ]

You couldn't pull it off. [ Teasing! The wine makes it easier. ]

[Well, now he has to try. He spreads out on the bed, propping himself up with the pillows, and flips the hood up.]

[ From behind his wine glass, Royce gives Alfie a thumbs down. ]

What is that?

[Sorry, Royce. It's a gesture that technically exists in Alfie's time, but it hasn't been popularized yet.]

[ Royce raises his eyebrow. ] It means bad. Poor job. You don't have this gesture?

No. If it's pointed up, does it mean good job?

It does. [ He takes a sip of his wine, watching Alfie. ] It isn't a good look for you, Solomons, I'm afraid I can't give you the thumbs up.

[Royce is close enough that Alfie can flick him with the end of a blanket.]

[ Wow, rude. Royce lazily kicks in Alfie's direction. He's very warm and on his second glass of wine, relaxed and half-grinning. ]

Don't be a child. [ Nyeeeeehhhh. ]

You're nearly drunk, aren't you.

It doesn't take much. [ Royce drawls. ] Were you planning on catching up?

[He raises the rum bottle, and takes a slow sip.]

I think it's funnier if I stay sober.

Funnier. You mean so you can make fun of me in the morning. [ Royce rolls his eyes. ] Enjoy it. This'll be the first and only time.

Do you think there's a camera in this room? Would you like photographs for posterity?

[ Look, he's just gonna flip you the bird, Alfie. Lovingly, as he takes another swig from his wine glass delicately. ]

That one I do know. Here.

[He holds out his rum bottle to Royce. His arm sways a little.]

Switch for a sip, eh? I wanna try yours.

[ Royce pours himself a little bit more in his glass before offering the bottle of Merlot over across the way to Alfie. He takes the rum bottle and looks at it almost suspiciously. ]

I've never liked rum. [ Royce says idly. ] The more I drink the less I'll care, I'm sure.

Yeah. How's the wine? As good as home?

[Alfie's just been drinking straight from the bottle like a heathen, so he does the same with the wine.]

Montemorcey is better. [ Royce is a wine snob. ] But this isn't bad. Are you - are you drinking it from the bottle? Solomons.

[ He's vaguely scandalized! ]

Yeah, I am. Didn't want to bother with a glass.

[Totally unrepentant.]

[ Royce mutters something grouchily about not drinking wine like you'd drink rum, and then sniffs at the bottle of rum. He takes a swig from the bottle, and immediately makes a face. Ughhh. Gross, you can have your disgusting rum back.

Royce hands it back across the way. ]

[And they switch again. Alfie starts chuckling.]

I can't believe you gave me the one-finger salute. Fucking hell--

[He's definitely finding this more amusing than he would if he were sober.]

[ Royce grins a little into his glass. ]

I imagine most soldiers know that one. [ He flops down into his chair, letting his legs hang over the arm. ] Believe it or not, Hadrian taught me that one. I taught him elvish curses in return.