Gathering: ...in the corner pocket

[concierge]

Anyone who passed the billiards room in the evening was treated to the sound of light laughter, billiard balls being struck with firm confidence, and the clatter of glasses and plates. The notice had been posted only that day for the tournament, but all were welcome to join in and play, while free drinks and small morsels of food were passed around for the enjoyment of all. The two billiard tables were rarely empty, even though the prize wasn't much to speak of, but pride was always a great motivator in people's ambitions and the ability to say you'd won was always on the line.

The billiards tournament was casual and many were lingering around, watching as the players took their turns. Waiters circulated the room with their trays, and every once in a while, new competitors were welcomed into the informal billiards competition that had begun only a few hours earlier.

Everyone was welcome, though some people would be leaving the event with a loss on their backs. It was lucky, then, that there was alcohol, food, and good company to help dull the defeats.

Comments

[morethanhuman]

Apparently that was more than Simmons' opponent could stand; he stammered a pathetic excuse and fled, leaving Erik to step into the space he'd vacated, picking up the pool cue with a little smirk.

"What sort of wager did you have in mind?"

He wouldn't normally have engaged her, but Jordan had poured enough gin into him that his judgment could be considered hazy at best— and the look of shock on Simmons' face when she realized he was addressing her was more than enough to make up for the lapse.

[shes_biochem]

Simmons beams at the familiar face, lighting up even more. "Well, I surely think that a little bit of money could hardly hurt," she says insistently, as serious as she can be. After all, it's only angles and even if she loses, she doesn't have to bet more than a few dollars. "Erik, yes?"

[morethanhuman]

Erik nodded, twisting chalk onto the end of the cue. "And you're Jemma Simmons of S.H.I.E.L.D.," he said. She seemed pleased to be remembered; God, she was young.

With his hands still occupied, a few silver dollars floated out of his pocket and lined themselves up on the edge of the pool table beside him. "Shall we say a dollar per ball to start?"

[shes_biochem]

"I think that's a reasonable amount," she agrees, trying not to appear too boastful or arrogant of her chances given that she's quite good at the game and the boiler room had given her plenty of practice. "Do you play much billiards, in your line of work?" Which, she can't precisely recall, but absolutely believes that driving towards the question can hardly hurt.

[morethanhuman]

That won her a laugh, whether she'd been trying for one or not. "More than you might think, actually." Though the line of work in which he'd needed to pass through high society unremarked, a faceless gentleman in a tailored suit, was so far distant from him now that he'd nearly forgotten what it was like to inhabit that life. He'd learned manners, languages, all the trappings that were necessary to disguise him from the men he hunted— and now he was using them to gamble for pocket change against a girl barely Raven's age.

"And you? I wasn't under the impression that biochemistry and billiards had much of an overlap." Though until he'd met Charles, he hadn't thought scientists knew how to drink, either.

[shes_biochem]

"Well, not in the last job I'd had, but when I was still in the Academy, there was a lot of time for billiards." That was, if you had the time, inclination, and the know-how to sneak off into the depths of the Boiler Room, where many of her like-minded students had gathered. "It's all angles," she says knowingly. "For scientists, there are few games better suited, especially when money is involved."

[morethanhuman]

One eyebrow arched high on his forehead. "So I'm already at a disadvantage." He eyed her thoughtfully. "I'm not accustomed to being fleeced. Luckily for you, there's no metal in those things." He gestured to the balls on the table with a little smirk. He hoped she understood he was joking.

As she lined up her first shot, Erik couldn't help indulging some curiosity. "When you say 'the Academy', I'm assuming you don't mean the FBI."

[shes_biochem]

"Oh, no, they don't have nearly the scientific resources that I need or want," Simmons says warmly, given that she'd looked into all her options, after gaining two PhDs at a rather young age. "I turned my interests to a far more secretive organization devoted to security, though it's unfortunately collapsed under the weight of far too many traitorous employees," she says, trailing away with mild dissatisfaction. "It's left my job situation in a precarious position."

[morethanhuman]

"I'm familiar with SHIELD," said Erik, frowning. "I knew someone once who was part of it. It was her whole life— but she never mentioned anything about its collapse." Though he knew from ample experience that people could be torn from their lives with no idea of what had lain in store for them— perhaps it had been a blessing that Carter hadn't been left behind to witness her beloved agency's demise.

"What do you think you'll do now?" he asked as she finally leaned down and took the shot, sinking a solid neatly into the far pocket.