|Nicholas Joseph Fury (furious_nick) wrote in oh_marvelous,|
@ 2013-12-25 19:41:00
|Entry tags:||z: om1: !closed, z: om1: affiliation: s.h.i.e.l.d., z: om1: character: bruce banner, z: om1: character: jasper sitwell, z: om1: character: nick fury, z: om1: character: phil coulson, z: om1: location: new york|
It's that time, Christmas time is here
Setting: Some NYC hotel ballroom
Content: Nick Fury
Summary: It's a big Christmas party. People who need to confront Nick can slap him and then have some eggnog or candy canes, maybe a kiss under the mistletoe.
Christmas was a time for family, friends, and forgiveness or, in Nick Fury's case a time for reforging old alliances, weeding out potential problems, and earning back the trust of people who believed he was a total fuck up. He had a long night ahead of him. Lucky for Nick this was a big holiday party with plenty of good food and booze to get him by, with the added bonus that the whole bill was being footed by S.H.I.E.L.D. To win anyone over you had to appease and impress, that was just politics. This was the kind of shit Nick hadn't missed much at all.
The soiree was situated in a hotel ballroom, expertly decorated for Christmas by some designer Sheila hired (it was great to have Sheila back). There were dignitaries and diplomats, military brass and heads of departments, old friends and probably plenty of foes. Among the guest list of people he had to see, he'd made sure to include all the people he wanted to see, and figured anyone pissed at him wouldn't make a scene in front of the country's movers and shakers. Worst case scenario there was quite a crowd he could disappear into if the going got rough.
As the party got into full swing and the music started up (Sheila hired a brass band who, though very good, seemed pretty set on playing Christmas songs), Nick moved among the guests with a tight smile plastered on his face as he listened to apologies, accusations, and conversation about the weather. Armed with the fail safe maneuver of glancing over someone's shoulder with 'excuse me a minute', Nick kept himself fortified with an often refilled glass of bourbon and the satisfaction of redeemed authority.