19668/Happy Little Holiday

Happy Little Holiday
Date of Scene:	15 December 2024
Location:	Greenwich Abode
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Scott Lang, Clea

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Scott Lang has posed:
Scott shows up at Clea's. He has a package slung a particular way in one hand. Credling a large paper bag to him really. Wearing a dark blue heavy coat, black slacks, it seems a little monotone. And like before, he'll go through the motions. Just respecting the process. Sometimes those what walk in the magical circles have a few more bits, bobs and other things to do before one gets entry to a home. It absolutely pays to do them. Rumors about curses, death curses and pain follow those that dare not to follow the rules set before someone of magical value. Even if Clea doesn't abide by these, Scott will. A little out of respect, a little out of fear, but he's happy to do it.

"Ding dong!" Scott says cheerily. "I bring forth good tidings to someone that means a bit to me," and he shrugs off the coat. A contrast to the coat is his white with green accent Christmas Sweater. There's accent of traditional christmas trees at the sleeves A couple above the green edge of the sweater, larger ones aroun the center and to the left of the actual torso. What isn't white, or green, is Bob Ross! He's all smiles like in so much promotional material complete with blue workshirt, the brown afro and beard. The logo on the sweater says, "Happy Little Christmas" instead of "Happy Little Accident." Yes, it's an eyesore, but he loves it.

Clea has posed:
Clea senses the arrival. Thankfully spells and wards won't fry your friends. So Scott is fortunate in that regard. She floats into the living room as the door closes behind the man.

"Hello Scott." she smiles to him before she lets her feet touch the floor. "Did I miss something?" she asks him curiously.

Scott Lang has posed:
"Nope. I just...I get the Cassie Monster late next week. That means, unless you're family, at an Avengers party or something similar, I'll be harder to find," and then he pulls out two bottles one is a red one. The other is a bottle of whiskey, both sealed and carry some age. "A couple of people at work pointed me to these. And...some people I care about are hard to shop for. So, I wanted to gift you these," he smiles. "Find someone to enjoy them with in front of a warm fire." And that's just him trying to give Clea a decent, to great, Christmas Gift.

Clea has posed:
"Aww, that is a good thing. I bet you'll enjoy the time then." the white haired woman smiles to him. "Please come in and have a seat? I can get you a drink and things if you like?" she offers.

"I don't really know anything about Christmas, but I am always flattered that people think enough of me to get me gifts." she tells the man. "I haven't been shopping yet...more so that I don't know what to get people that isn't something to do with our jobs." she sighs.

His words on finding someone cause her to give a sad smile, "Tinder has been a failure and apparently I 'scare' most." she shrugs. "I can enjoy it in front of the fire myself though." she nods to this. "What did you want for Christmas, Scott?" she asks him as she settles the bottles down on the table.

Scott Lang has posed:
"I know. But it may be hard for people to find me," he grins at her and then sits down with a seat. "Maybe some milk, water," Scott says with a smile and then he looks out toward her place. "I have the issue, too. Or some of them. What do you get the richest man on the planet? What do you give a literal God? I can't exactly buy the never ending magical ale mug," he says and then shrugs, looking at her. "I get the frustration."

"I thought you had someone lined up and why do they scare you? Idiots," he shakes his head a little bit at them. Then he looks at her for a moment. Then stares at the fire, "I'm not sure. I could say a few things, but honestly? Something good to happen next year," he admits softly and looks back to her. "What else do you want for Christmas?"

Clea has posed:
Clea moves to grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge and then wanders back into the living room. "Thor would probably love a mug that just refilled itself." she grins.

"I don't think I had anyone lined up. And I scared the one date I got. They were not expecting me to be so tall...or floaty." she shrugs. "And I am also hoping next year will be better." she smiles.

"As for what else I want for Christmas? Nothing. I don't want for much." she admits. "Just for us not to lose anyone else." she adds.

Scott Lang has posed:
"That's the hope everyone should have, that everyone's stillt here," he admits softlya nd shakes his head a little bit. "I'm worried I may have lost someone. Maybe I'm wrong," he shakes his head a little bit. Those eyes of his slip to her and he gives a look, just fighting off some sadness. "Those people are stupid for the record."

Clea has posed:
"I think we are all here. All but Cap really." Clea frowns to that. "But life will go on. We'll regroup eventually." she states. There is a look to him, "Lost someone?" she asks him.

"What's going on?" she adds. "We're friends, you should be able to confide in me if you are having troubles." she reminds him. Then there is a chuckle, "I don't think they are stupid. I just think that their path is just without me in it and that's fine. But I can be sad about it." she admits.

Scott Lang has posed:
"I think someone I cared for is gone. So, I'm just trying to figure it out. Don't want to throw in the towel, but I know it's not looking good," Scott smirks and shakes his head for a moment. "And I think they're stupid because they don't see someone great. So, I'll think those people are stupid until two years from now. Why make it for one?" Scott smirks at his friend and he shakes his head at himself. Scott knows the human is like a shield. It can deflect, keep people safe. Yet, people can hide behidn them, too. That's what he'sd oing, hiding.

Clea has posed:
Clea gives a soft frown, "Well...have you tried calling them or asking them if things are...going alright?" she asks him. "What happens to them in two years?" she whispers to him. She wasn't sure of the significance of the time.

"Don't assume everything is done until you talk with them. Just in case they've just needed time. But there's a limit to waiting." she admits.

Scott Lang has posed:
"I have. Even did a fe wnontraditional things," Scott's voice trails. Then he has to back up. "I meant the people hurting you. I'll think they're stupid for a long time. I was going to say a year, but doubled down."

And then he goes back to his issue, "They've got a few ties to other worlds. So, I tried nonconentional means. It's like she became a ghost for a minute. There are a few scenarios where she could vanish from all traceable beats, but they're not exactly the most common thing to happen," and then that leaves questions in their own right.

"Try to avoid any rich godly pantheon," he gives a soft yet sad smile. "Well, avoid it if you can. Just, they got some power to do some crazy things."

Clea has posed:
"I need you to quit worrying about the people who have hurt me by leaving. I'm over it now. And I mean...marrying Doctor Doom was going to probably get me kicked out of the Avengers, but I would have done it had it worked out." Clea admits. "And Clint..." she shakes her head. "There is a certain redhead that he'll always go back to." she shrugs.

Then there is a curious quirk of an eyebrow, "Do you need my help locating them? Do you think they are in trouble?" she asks. "And no Asgardians?" she muses.

Scott Lang has posed:
"They're all idiots, I say again," Scott says rather firmly on this one. "And if you're going to throw away the Avengers do it for someone worthy of you." Scott will defend Clea until the end. That much is certain.

"She's a daughter of a major God. When she starts to go missing from normal circles, I think I have to instantly look to Godly matters. I think you're capable, but I think we would need a few more magical people as awesome as you to pick up the smallest trail," he's quiet for a moment. A sad thought strikes him. "That's if she -wants- to be found. I want to say 'Yes.' Right now, my faith in that area is just a little beat up," it's probably closer to -a lot-. Still, he will simply hope for good things. Try to beat off those bad thoughts.

Clea has posed:
Clea gives a soft smile to him, "I will not argue with you." she tells him. There is a bit of a nod as Scott explains his other half.

"If you would like help in finding her then I am sure we could. But you are also right in wanting to factor in 'if she wants to be found'." she agrees. "Though I don't know why she'd leave without speaking to her other half first." she admits. "Hopefully she is alright and you can be reunited soon." she comments.

Scott Lang has posed:
"I am pretty vexing," Scott says as a reason for wanting to leave. His gaze stays on Clea. That could be a reason why they may not want to be found. "I appreciate you giving me credit," he admits softly. Yes, it stinks to factor in "want" to a disappearance. "So, who would you marry if you could?" Scott just asks the first question that pops into his head to change the subject.

Clea has posed:
"I think you're a good guy." Clea tells Scott with a smile. "So I will hold out hope that your woman returns and you can be happily reunited." she tells him.

There is a blink from the white haired woman, "Who would I marry?" she asks him. "I...wow, umm, I'm not sure I have an answer for that." she admits.

Scott Lang has posed:
"Thank you," Scott admits honestly. He gives a soft yet sad smile.

"Sorry, first question I could think of," it's a small admission. "I didn't know what to ask. Should I get out of your hair for a moment?" he asks softly looking at Clea for a moment.

Clea has posed:
"You never have to thank me." Clea points out to him gently. "I am here and I am your friend. I'll always try to help if I can." she tells him.

Then there is a soft laugh, "No need to apologize. I mean...I've been engaged twice. Victor and Clint. Both polar opposites. The person I wanted to date has vanished again and well..." she shrugs. "It's our life." she muses. "And no, you're fine. Would you like a drink?" she asks him.