Owner	Pose
Peggy Carter	In keeping with tradition of not having SHIELD parties on actual holidays, the 'Year is Ending' little gathering is happening in the middle of the week before the New Year. It's meant to be a casual drop in thing throughout the week, though Peggy's mentioned to some key people that Wednesday evening there will be the best food, some outside catering, and a little live three piece jazz band in the corner. The 'dress code' is also 'Pajamas, ugly sweaters, or whatever is the most comfortable and weird thing you own.' The place has been decorated in ALMOST 2022 banners of all different sorts. This is not meant to be a *classy* party. This is meant to be a silly, comfortable, casual one. This means that Peggy is there dressed in one of Daniel's satin night shirt and pant sets. This one is a deep rust color with black pin stripes and a faux pocket square, but it's clearly men's nightware. It fits, however! Mostly. It might be a bit tight at the curves but she's managing. She's also in a pair of fuzzy black slippers and her hair up in pin curls. She is setting the theme for tonight's ridiculousness. She's ensuring every last bit of food is set out, an array of finger foods from cuisines across the world. The ONLY classy thing right now is the jazz band.
Pepper Potts	It's a fun themed party! Pepper Potts, the PA/SO of 'consultant' Tony Stark, is in attendence, though it would be a little difficult to actually recognize her at the moJis hug her legs, finishing with green-jingle-belled slippers, changed into upon arrival. Her hair is up, and holly is interweaved into strawberry blonde hair, with the red berries at the binding of her hair in the plait. Jingle bells and ball ornaments dangle from her ears as the final touch. To add to the delightful casualness of the affair, Pepper has a cup of hot chocolate, properly touched with a bourbon-based whipped cream, and she's off to the side, if only for the moment, as she looks into the gathering that is, well, gathering.
Melinda May	May... has never been big on parties. Well. Okay. Not true. She's always been quiet, and has always tended to be more of an observer than participant, but parties were fun, once upon a time. That was a long time ago, though. Nevertheless, having found what she considers to be an agency appropriate ugly christmas sweater -- dark green (she seriously considered the black) with a shield logo surrounded by snowflakes between wrows of Christmas trees and ornaments -- she knows dropping in would be a good idea. So, pulling up her sleeves and eying the food table, she is here. The music's good. And she can 'borrow' from the emotions of the more relaxed people in the room to at least pretend she's at ease here. It's a pretty convincing charade, really. She swings by the punch table, investigating the offerings.
Veira de Wit	Ugly Sweaters or comfortable weird things? Veira might have had a hard time picking out clothes this year. So she'd went with something that was Christmas and Weird. The Krampus onesie has stuffed horns on the top of the hood and a plushie sack of children in the sack on it's back. HR might be calling soon, but that was what happened when WAND agents got out of the cubicles. She's wearing plan brown boots just in case anything catches on fire while the party is going. The one eyed woman settles a long white box onto the treats table that's labelled 'homemade baklava' in elegant script. She gives a smile to those already hanging around, "Hello all." the woman states.
Leopold Fitz	For a time Leo Fitz was actually broadening his horizons and making a point of attending social events such as this, putting himself a little bit more out in the world as it were despite his occasional anti-social tendancies. Of course that was before finding himself in the Ftamework, at seeing his darkest impulses brought to life. It was a full on retreat after that with late nights spent in the lab and maybe a few hours to catch a little sleep and grab a bite to eat -- usually when it was most likely that he would run into few to no people in the cafeteria or the hallways. And as for leaving the triskelion? Hahahahahaha. Yeah, no. However, when it comes to hiding his social insecurities the young genius might not be quite as clever as he thinks and certainly not as discrete as he might wish. While Fitz might be working through a few issues, he is still very properly British. He does not have any great desire to speak with some professional and work through his problems in anything approaching a healthy fashion. No thank you. He will internalize, damnit and put on a brave face. Stiff upper lip and all. But if that is going to work it does require him to show a little progress. It does require him to actually poke his head out into the world, just a little. So here he is. It was a close thing. Despite the theme of the party he very nearly showed up in a sweater vest and tie, right along with his labcoat. It is supposed to be what he is comfortable in, right? That is certainly when he feels most himself. But part of this evening is to blend, to show that he is all back to normal. And so Fitz fell back on another thing that makes him comfortable. Careful planning. Days and days of careful planning, of placing orders and insuring that everything would be here ontime. And so when the quiet young genius pokes his head into the room it is in the unlikely outfit of a hooded, Christmas pajama outfit. A hooded Christmas footie pajama outfit. Done up in blue and white with red lining on the borders and in the hood, little reindeer and snowflakes dot the ensemble. He feels like an idiot. But he does blend. After a fashion.
Jane Foster	The year is ending, and with it, all the excitement and near-scrapes with actual ends marked by a capital E. Pressure for getting work done recedes into the background at the promise of the Chief letting her hair down. Or is it a trick? It might be. Jane isn't one to believe in the wicked intentions of Peggy Carter -- Nick Fury, another story, his memos being stuff of legend, even to her. Thus, no one really ought to be surprised that 'pajamas' has been interpreted through a stellar lens, are they? Surely an evening in costume deserves more than frantic digging. So it is she channels no less than a Hepburn to get the job done, the oversized tuxedo shirt a thing of shiny pearled splendour and a luxe blue eyemask, complete with deliciously ridiculous winged eyebrows and gold, long lashes, propped above her brown hair. The famous peach silk robe to complete that Breakfasty ensemble is worn open, cast idly over her shoulder. The theme of the party might be the reason for the season, and everyone should know that it's all about naps. Negotiating a path in with a tray of saffron buns -- lussekatter -- and fern cakes, sweet and lovely, on a platter takes some work. If only she could levitate these things, life would be so much easier. Well, she can't, so finding her way around without getting her toes stepped on or tripping headfirst over Fitz is a win, if demanding a lot of patience. Follow the reindeer and the ring of Pepper's glorious bells.
Peggy Carter	As the last few people seem to be wandering in, Peggy's smile widens a bit more. It's a bigger crowd than she perhaps expected. She steps over to May's side as the woman comes in, looking her up and down with approving amusement. "You might have to tell me where you got that sweater. I could mandate them next year. Company wide holiday gift." Peggy is only half teasing about that. The gift part, at least. Her hand reaches out to momentarily rest on May's arm, passing off some geuninely good emotions and a touch of excitement at the one actual duty she has for the evening. Pepper's then given a bit of a wave and a small nod of approval at the get up. "Aren't YOU adorable? Thank you for coming and...being a part of the spirit. I know it's not quite a proper corporate dress party... Maybe it's nice to relax." She winks. Veira's given an even bigger smile of approval and amusement. The onesie is impressive. Peggy is opting out of the various alcoholic offerings, and there is plenty, but she does scoop by and pick up a piece of Veira's homemade baklava, making a small groan of approval at the taste. Then there is Fitz. Actually out and about... showing his face on the other side of the lab. A small breath of relief escapes her nose as she sees him. "Fitz... you look perfectly comfortable and already miserable. There's a selection of ten different teas and plenty of gin and whiskey. Go. Help yourself." She's only half teasing there. And then, finally, there is sight of Jane. The woman she was waiting for. "If I can get everyone's attention... before we completely lose ourselves to this ridiculousness, I did want to say a few words. This year might have been the longest of SHIELD's life. While I never said it at the moment, there were times I... I wasn't even certain if we'd survive it. But we did. Stronger than ever. Cleaning up the mess our enemies made. With new family, new friends, and new ways to protect the world. However, one woman has done much in the last months to make certain every bit of what HYDRA scattered to the wind has been returned. Dr. Jane Foster... please, come forward... Even if you have slightly broken the rules by looking too fabulous to be entirely comfortable.
Jemma Simmons	Sneaking in just as Peggy calls for Jane, Jemma takes up residence in the back, just on this side of the party. Yes, she had gotten the memo of come in comfortable clothing, but also one of the weirdest she has. And, well....Jemma just doesn't have that much weirdness. And to make it holiday-esque? Really....she has the same issue as Fitz. She is most comfortable in her labcoat. But...Jemma does aim to please. And...she arrives in a soft robe and a pajama set. Her PJ pants look to be plaid, but her shirt....that is the key. It is a white shirt, with an unmistakable image of a blue police public call box. With snow on top, Christmas lights wrapped about it, and a wreath upon the front door. Those that know Jemma shouldn't be surprised, really. Yet, with the robe and the TARDIS-themed pjs, Jemma attempts the feat of blending in so she is not noticed. Does it work? Only time will tell.
Pepper Potts	If there's one place for a party like this that won't make the front pages, it'd be in the 'basement' of SHIELD. Pepper is very, very careful about how she's perceived, her own persona as skillfully achieved as Tony's, and as vital to maintain. That said, having an outlet to just relax and laugh in safety is priceless. She watches the arrival and the consequent mingling of those others, and it's quite apparent it is a 'family' gathering. No worries here! She greets Peggy quickly, a hand out to reach for the woman's forearm for a quick touch, "Thank you for having me, Ms Carter," sounds a genuine note. "Perfect for the season. And the snow has started outside." Looking out at the others once more, she looks for people that she's perhaps met before, run into before, been in the same room before. Jane.. is that Dr Foster? It is! The short but obviously heartfully meant tribute to the astrophysicist gains a light applause from Pepper, a smile touching her face. Certainly well deserved accolades, if a portion of what she'd heard was true!
Veira de Wit	Oooh, more people. Veira scoots a bit off to the side, the one eyed Agent taking a drink of her hot chocolate as she listens to Jane being called up. She looks down to the floor beside her and squints at...something, but then she's focused again on the things in front of the group. What was going to happen? They were about to find out. For now, Krampus was just enjoying being around other agents for the moment.
Melinda May	May chuckles quietly to Peggy's comment. "I'll hook you up," she says. "It's amazing what you find in Chinatown." She blinks mildly at the surge of emotion Peggy sends her way, and a more genuine smile touches her lips and even her eyes for that moment. A hint of curiosity escapes her. But Peggy is moving on, so May reaches for some of the eggnog and doctors it appropriately. Then, she turns and watches Peggy call Jane up. Ah. Right. *That's* why Peggy is excited.
Leopold Fitz	The smile that filters across Fitz's expression is automatic, a practiced reflex more then any genuine happiness at the thought of grabbing something to drink. Still, having a drink in one's hand is pretty convenient in a lot of ways and an excellent reason not to talk too much. Hard to do if one's mouth is perpetually occupied right? "Sounds wonderful, thank you," he says with a bob of the head for Peggy, slipping out of the doorway rather swiftly so as not to block any other latecomers, instead making his way over to the refreshments table. The tea is tempting. Not much soothes quite as well as a good cup of tea -- unless it is a good session of SCIENCE -- but something a little stronger might be called for on this occasion. So with glass in hand, Fitz finds some stretch of wall where he can lean, out of the way and turning his attention towards the front of the gathering as the Director begins to speak. It has definitely been a year.
Blackagar Boltagon	Although a SHIELD gathering, being summoned to join as the appointed plus one for such events has drawn Blackagar Boltagon out of his moon-day drudgery. Moon-day, get it? Accompanying the fashionable Jane Foster at her behest, he struggled mightily to not just find something to wear but to understand the entirety of the event. One in which people dress in their night clothes but to put them on with all the others. It is why after much debate held within their residence, that he finally landed on what he wanted to wear. King of Attilan, Silent Presence, Dark Haired Intensity -- dressed in a snuggy. It is a task for him to simply blend into the background but he does so with as much aplomb as he can muster. Spotting so many familiar faces and presences does allow for the traditional headnod of greeting to those that are recognized. It is, however, the calling forth of Jane by Peggy Carter that draws his gaze quickly and a small, pleased smile begins to form on his lips with observation of the proceedings.
Jane Foster	"I am all in favour of the hot chocolate Ms. Potts brought. An outstanding idea," says Jane Golightly, the peach robe that completes her ensemble an afterthought somewhere. Possibly something carried in by a frantic-looking intern, since she more than likely left it behind while worrying about waitressing the saffron buns and fern cakes. Mmm, fern cakes. Mid-turn to present her offerings to the staff, she assesses their Tardis-loving Englishwoman. "How did you manage that without four meters of scarf, Doctor? Are we not all lucky at that?" Stepping away from the table gives her exactly four seconds to run. Five. Is it too late to vanish backwards into the bushes, Homer-style? Alas not, but Peggy gets that dimpled half-smile. "You said pyjamas. You didn't tell me they had to be proper flannel." All thoughts of escape are discarded while carefully walking the gauntlet, giving Veira a friendly smile, May a proper nod, and Pepper a sideways ebullient grin for a moment. Team SCIENCE with Jemma and Fitz hopefully have an escape as she goes hastening along. And nearly trips. Mincing steps make up for it. A /snuggy?/ Her eyes widen. Staring at Blackagar means moving somehow on autopilot and not running into the chief or over her. <Good choice.>
Peggy Carter	The entrance of the other scientist doesn't go missed by Peggy. The Chief flashes a bit more of a smile in Jemma's direction, recognition quite in her eyes about that shirt, but it'll be for later. She's in the middle of one of her favourite things about being in the leadership of this organization. Even if the sight of Bolton nearly makes Jane stumble. Peggy grins and steps to the side, then, grabbing a stocking from where it's been hanging oddly upon the wall. She hands it in Jane's direction. "Missing proper flannel aside, in acknowledgement of your service to SHIELD, your ability to handle yourself in the field, and your excellent leadership in cleaning up the utter *mess* HYDRA made, you are officially Rank Six, with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails. You have full command of the 0-8-4 cleaning project," Though Peggy knows it's nearly finished, "And will be looked to as a field leader for future SHIELD missions. Congratulations, Dr. Foster. And good luck." Peggy grins wider, leaning in for the quick, tight hug of celebration before letting Jane go to be applauded and enjoy her success among her colleagues. Inside the stocking is her new badge, lanyard, and pins for the position. Not that anyone ever wears their rank pins but they GET them. "Now! Everyone! Relax. There are plenty of drinks, boozefilled and not, and too much food. Eat. Roll out of here later. Talk to each other like you almost like each other. I have confidence in you." Peggy grins, finally stepping away from the front of the room. She's sweeping by to pick up some mint tea and a cookie for herself.
Jemma Simmons	Ah....there is another reason for the gathering than simply seeing what was everyone's favorite sweater/sleepwear or whatever. Of course Peggy may have had ulterior motives. In any case, Jemma hangs close by the exit. Not that she is expecting a hasty exit...but she remembers the last time there was a party. It pays to be prepared. Jemma flashes a smile towards Jane as she allows herself a small giggle. "The theme was comfort. I would have found Baker's scarf somewhat limiting in movement." Well, yes. With 4 feet of knitted glory, she would have resembled a yarn mummy than a research scientist. No other comments are given as Jane is taken up and given the new badge. Yes....It is a familiar situation. There is some relaxation....but only a little. After all, Jemma is all about preparation...
Veira de Wit	Veira's lips quirk into a grin when Jane gets her stocking and there's a soft clapping that the woman gives, but not a lot to embarrass anyone. And when the Chief says it's time to relax that is what she does. The tall goth finds a place to sit with her drink and her cookies to quietly watch for the moment.
Melinda May	Sipping at her eggnog, May crosses toward Jane. "Congratulations, Agent," the commander says warmly, the title one of respect. "You earned it." She lays her hand briefly on the younger woman's shoulder to reinforce her congratulations, before she steps aside for others who may want to speak to the woman.
Leopold Fitz	In some ways it helps, that there is that reminder that SHIELD goes on, despite everything that has happened in the past year. So Fitz joins in on the congratulatory applause offered up by the assembled agents and personnal, lifting his glass in silent pursuit. And just as soon as it is polite to do so, he retreats to his wall as if he needs to cut off the chance of anyone ambushing him into a discussion. It is possible that he has taken a few lessons from his time in the field to heart -- and immediately applied them to a social setting. The far more dangerous and nerve-wracking field of battle.
Jane Foster	Jane chews her inner cheek, only accentuating the horrible sweetness of that dimple. Further reason to not take her seriously, though do so at one's peril. The vibrant turquoise eye-mask winks somnolent gold lashes when she cants her head a bit. Not too far; the gold cords lashed and tied over her somewhat messy hair might otherwise leave her blinded among friends when she receives that stocking. "Thank you." The words are genuinely spoken. "Flannel next year." A solemn promise built on the idea there will be a next year -- in as few as a couple days or 365 or less -- is never doubted. The brief breath released is the only obvious hint of tension. Melinda surely knows better, though gratitude sucker-punches the anxiety in the stomach. That touch of May's hand to her shoulder helps. She breaks into a wider smile. "Cheers to everyone who has helped; I owe everyone in this room thanks for your contributions to what we have done and continue to do. You know how invaluable your assistance is, I hope, and if not, I am happy to remind you." Then, she's going to strategically not run into the wall, beelining behind the fellow Furiae, Jemma, to find eggnog, cocoa, or rocket fuel. Then to go hand a saffron bun to Blackagar, eventually.
Pepper Potts	Pepper certainly does wish to speak to the good doctor, one of the apparently many well-wishers. She approaches, the bells softly a-jingle, to add her congratulations, a smile offered to her co-workers as she does so. "Congratulations, Dr Foster. I'm certain it's well deserved." As the other woman makes her strategic departure for the company of other friends, she chuffs a quiet, amused laugh. "And unexpected, apparently," is said to the air.
Melinda May	Moving back through the crowd, Melinda swings by the food table and finds a little bit that suits her. Small plate, small cup, in hand, she finds the end of a couch to perch upon and watch the party. It's always been her place of choice.
Peggy Carter	The official festivities now done, Peggy is content to slip off to the side with her cup of mint tea and comfortable, satin pajamas. She smiles a bit wider at Jane's little, encouraging speech in turn, joining in the applause and abandoning her tea for a few seconds. But once the party has truly settled into starting again, she takes the mug and finds herself against a wall, near Fitz. She gives him a little bit of a wry smile. "Good to see you out of the cave. Two points for the 'Did a good job' file." Peggy teases him lightly, hiding that wry smile behind her mug a heartbeat later. She's looking happily exhausted herself, but maybe that's just the pajamas.
Jemma Simmons	Bah....selfless Jane. She might be happy to remind people, but Jemma will be all too happy to return the favor. Because, really, Jane deserves all the credit. She flashes a smile towards her friend as Jane breezes past, then Jemma follows to the drinks. Cocoa, for this particular scientist. Goes great with bathrobes and British sensibilities.
Blackagar Boltagon	Jane's acceptance of the promotion pulls that warmth of smile from Blackagar, who silently lifts his glass in toast to her upon the moment before sipping it slowly giving the hued liquid a quick look of evaluation. HIs hands lift to move in the woman's direction as she approaches with a saffron bun. ~A well earned promotion. A well earned vacation I hope as well.~ He accepts the saffron bun from her before motioning with a hand and slipping off momentarily in the direction of May. Raising a hand to get her attention, the Inhuman steps closer towards the Agent, small smile still present on his lips. ~I was wondering,~ he begins to sign with his hands doing so rather gracefully despite holding a glass, ~If I could borrow your time.~
Pepper Potts	A fun party, a welcome diversion, but it's coming time when Pepper does have to get back to the Tower. Not that she has a curfew, mind, but .. she has a self-imposed curfew, and one that is rapidly approaching. The hot chocolate with the slight push of bourbon cream is finished to the last drop, and her cup properly disposed of. All that's left is the few brief but warm goodbyes, and proper wrapping of her outfit so if anyone 'out there' sees her between her walk between building and waiting sedan, there's nothing too damning that will hit the papers.
Leopold Fitz	Really, if one wants to hide there are better places to do that in a roomful of some of the world's most observant people. And while Fitz might still very much be in hide mode at the moment he is genuinely working on it, especially in light of his discussion with Peggy. In addition to being his boss, she's something of a legend afterall. It's hard not to do so when she speaks. "I'm... working on," he admits, offering a tenative, awkward sort of smile and a small shrug. "It's an... interesting sort of gathering," he conceeds, glancing about the room. It's downright ridiculous, of course. But sometimes a little ridiculousness is exactly what's called for. Taking a lingering sip of his drink, he feels the warmth flood through him and turns his gaze back towards the Director. "If I could be so bold, it looks like you're burning the candle at both ends," he says quietly.
Jane Foster	~Holiday? When does life slow down enough for that?~ Signing back to Blackagar with wickedly quick precision, Jane outs herself as proficient in at least one unusual language. It probably fits with the updated personnel file along with Wakandan Xhosa. ~We shall.~ A smile brightens, though she has to stop staring at the snuggy whenever given the chance or else he will have her doubled over in laughter. Selfless might be a bridge too far, but Jemma fits wholly inside that description. She nudges the Brit scientist with her elbow lightly on the way back. "Should we add a heap of peppermint chips or go straight to chocolate on top? Tell me what you think. Would you think it appropriate for us to bring anyone else a mug?" Pepper's departure is marked with a finger-wiggle.
Peggy Carter	As the scientist dares actually answer her, instead of running away, Peggy lets her shoulder blades sink in against the wall. She isn't exactly slumped there, but it's as relaxed as the Director ever lets herself be around people. Perhaps even a bit more so, considering she's wearing her husband's pajamas. She takes another sip of the tea and gives a little shrug at the question. "I've...pissed several people in Washington off the last two days. They'll be screaming at everyone shortly, I'm sure, but... trying to take the worst of it. If screaming government bureacrats really bothered me, I'd have quit the job years ago. Just... Sometimes the phone calls are exhausting. And there are other matters, but I assure you, I am fine." She then gives him a side eyed look, gazing him up and down a bit longer, "Yes, this isn't your traditional party but, frankly... tradition can sod off after this year. We survived. It was shite. I'll take something strange and happy. And...you? How are you holding up? Ready to get rid of the whole bloody year yet?"
Veira de Wit	Veira listens quietly to the conversations around her and her one eye gives a glance over those present as she reaches up to straighten out her eyepatch. Her phone starts to buzz and she has to dig it out of the pocket with a bit of effort. When she finally gets it there is a message that's been left. "Welp, it was lovely to hang out and things." she states as she rises and starts for the door. "Hope everyone takes care." she offers before heading out.
Jemma Simmons	"Why not both?" The nudge is greeted with a smile as Jemma claims her cocoa. "The promotion is well-deserved, by the way. Well past overdue." A hand reaches out blindly for said peppermint chips...but not too many. "You know that Daisy is going to say the same thing. Perhaps more so. But, still....congratulations." Peppermint added, now it is time for extra chocolate. "We need to watch out, now. People might think we are important." A tip of the wink....Jemma is joking. But only slightly.
Leopold Fitz	Soon enough it will be time to fly, to flee back to the lab -- or maybe, just maybe for a few hours of rest -- and the fact that some people are already starting to slip out is a great load off of his mind. Obligation met, box ticked off. He can hide out in the lab for another couple of weeks without any lingering sense of guilt. "It is something of a nice change," Fitz admits, that dark-eyed gaze once more roaming over the others assembled. It is a little easier looking and feeling ridiculous when everyone else is in the same boat afterall. "Sorry to hear about your problems with the bureaucrats, and again no offense meant, but better you than me," he says, the alcohol perhaps loosening his tongue just a little. "And you're not wrong. This year can't end quick enough. Time for a fresh start." Of course the changing of a calendar can't fix all ills.
Peggy Carter	The older woman can practically feel Fitz' soul leaving his body, especially as she forces him to speak more. There's a bittersweet smile across her unpainted lips as she watches him a few more heartbeats. "Well, I won't keep you. I can practically see you planning your exit. Just... look on your desk when you get back. There's a little something waiting. And... please remember that the rest of us aren't quite so awful. We'd like to see you more." Peggy reaches out one hand, giving his forearm a brief, gentle squeeze, and then she's letting him go. She doesn't like to torture her people, even if they are torturing themselves. Then Peggy starts a slow wander away. Mainly mingling through the room, wishing people happy seasons, topping off her tea. She's just trying to bask in the better times. To keep remembering why she does it, even if she has to stifle an exhausted yawn even this early on
Melinda May	May looks up, perhaps a trifle surprised, as the Inhuman monarch approaches her. She reads his signs fairly well, and pulls herself to her feet, rather than have him tower over her any more than strictly necessary. "What can I do for you?" she asks, her head tilting curiously. Her attention had strayed throughout the room, tracking the various comings and goings, trying to tap into the more positive emotions than not. So, pulling her attention back to herself and the man in front of her actually requires an uncharacteristic effort.
Blackagar Boltagon	Blackagar sets his glass down, glancing around the room observationally before turning back to Melinda, singing for her slowly so she catches the words. ~Human parties are so interesting to me. The social dynamics.~ The observation is made before he shakes his head, ~I believe it is time. For you that is. To... take the next step of your path.~ Blue eyes do their best to convey a warmth but the heavy expression of his features may betray that. ~If you are willing that is.~ Glancing, he looks towards where Jane speaks with Jemma, a fond expression on his face lighting it before he returns his look to Melinda, ~I have been told I should perhaps work a bit harder to bring us all together, so, if you are willing. There are some things I believe you are capable of learning.~
Jane Foster	Cocoa takes a moment to put together properly, portioning out a good amount of whipped cream to sprinkles, syrup, and other elements that keep the chocolate in check. With Jemma at hand to ensure the concoction is not leaning one way to the other too much, Jane dashes a few sprinkled chips of candy cane onto the fluffy white mountain she made. "People thinking /we/ are important? I hate so to disappoint them if they expect we are," she asides, sotto voce, full of amusement. "Are we wise to remain in plain sight?" She dabs her fingers on a paper napkin, sparing it for recycling, gazing over the small crowd with a smile. Parties to celebrate their achievements resonate with her, though a sort of distant alertness remains, calculating the unseen with the unknown. Leaning in with a fond laugh, she tries to juggle cocoa, stocking, and other mug.
Melinda May	May blinks mildly, surprised as Boltagar turns his attention more fully on her. Her eyes narrow slightly as he elaborates -- more curious than anything else. Maybe a little wary, but that's more about her than him. "How so?" she asks, head canting as she studies his face for a moment. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
Leopold Fitz	Patience... is not always Fitz's strong suit. And while that impatience can manifest itself a little more plainly with those who are not quite as his intellectual level -- something that composes a majority of people -- he doesn't really dislike others. Finds them frustrating, sure, but not dislikes. No, these days it is himself that he doesn't much care for. "Thank you, I will be sure to. Happy holidays to you," he says, bobbing his head after Peggy as she starts to mingle with the rest of the crowd. And finding his glass empty, he goes to retrieve some cocoa and maybe a bite to eat. With both in hand, the dark-haired young scientist begins to edge his way towards the exit. Mission successful.
Blackagar Boltagon	The Inhuman King studies Melinda in turn for a few moments before he finishes draining the glass he was drinking from and setting it down. ~I believe you may have the discipline, even from living on Earth, to master a technique that few of our people have done.~ The words are once more signed slowly. ~It is an extremely challenging mental process. Requiring complete focus, but also an understanding of surroundings. Your gifts may enable you to accomplish both.~ That warm smile returns, ~If you are up for the challenge that is.~ He waits to consider Melinda's response before dipping his head and adding, ~Have a pleasant evening, Agent May. I need to attend to what I am told are Plus One duties.~ As he references such tasks, his grin drifts towards Jane and he begins to wind his way.
Peggy Carter	"You are important now. I mean, you were before, but now you're the bosses when the brass aren't here. Good luck." How Peggy noticed what Jane was saying to Jemma, it's hard to say, but she clearly did as she sweeps past the woman in her final weave through the woman. She winks at her friend, free hand squeezing at her elbow. "Well deserved, though... truly. I'm damn proud of you, Jane. I can't wait to see what you do in the future. Hopefully it's more than cleaning up HYDRA's messes."
Melinda May	May's brows rise some at Boltagon's words. "I..." Memories of her encounter with the woman on the bike flash through her mind and how useful the training he suggests could be. "Yes," she says finally. "I would like that, I think." It never hurts to add a new arrow to the quiver. Then, he's taking his leave and she gives him a small smile and respectful nod as he retreats. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, your majesty." She looks down at the glass in her hand and sets both it and her plate aside. She's made her appearance and been social enough to -- if not be remembered, certainly have enough of an alibi by now to be allowed to escape. Thus she decides she's done for the night and slips out, back to her office to square away a few more tasks before morning.
Jane Foster	The fracture lines of laughter dictate Jane's amusement, and she isn't above giving way to them when jarred out of whatever navel gazing preoccupies her. Blinking for good measure brings her back into the moment. Only for that. Jemma venturing out with her preferred choice of beverage prepared makes for a proper farewell lining up for Peggy, and she turns to the woman with a smile. "You do me too much credit. This ranks up there with the Swedish hardware. I hope to make you proud of what comes." The momentary pause stretches out. This is a happy time, after all. No need to tell her she sees everyone in the room's death count shrinking by inches and moments. Raising her cocoa in salute, the other still in hand, she says, "Here's to making the future better for it." A slight sidelong nod and she winks at Blackagar.
Peggy Carter	"Oh, I know you will. I don't promote people who I am not utterly certain are going to make me proud, because they already did. And will continue to do so. I'm just glad I got to end out the year on a happy note. Enjoy your night, Senior Agent. It only gets more exhausting from here." Peggy squeezes her shoulder one more time and then lets her go, so they can all fade into whatever last enjoyments of the evening they have.