oddthatway | Give you something good to celebrate. [Gathering; Pre-dated to 6/5/15]

Tris ought to know well enough by now that I never go back on my word, once given. Especially when it comes to something as important as celebrating her 19th birthday. (And I have no doubt her and Four will find their own ways to celebrate later, but I try not to think about that. For my own sake.) She also still doesn't know that this celebration is about far more than her almost not being a teenager anymore. I'm putting my all into this because, back home, Tris doesn't get the chance to live this long. Back in Chicago, the Tris I've left behind is resting in a morgue.

I have the living room all decked out because of the rabbit. While Tris still isn't here, I'll admit: the damn thing's cute. And at least Tris had the sense to get a pet with Dauntless colors. It makes the whole pet thing seem far less Amity.

I've worked hard, tying ribbons of various colors - vibrant, spring colors like sky blue and lavender - and balloons around every available edge and corner. Behind the couch, I've put a banner that I've painted myself, which is why the writing looks so sloppy. Again, I've used the colors of the ribbons and the balloons, to write a simple message of 'Happy birthday, old lady!'

Not that Tris is old at all. Far from it. But I can't resist a bit of teasing, even for my best friend's birthday.

On the table rests a cake I bought at one of the local bakeries, in the shape of a bird, with some berries on top. It's the kind of quaint that I think Tris will appreciate. Next to it, my gifts: a slinky, shimmery light blue dress, because one can never have too many sexy dresses, and the other, a beautifully designed knife with crows etched onto the handle of the blade. Both were hardly cheap, but for Tris, I would be willing to spend far more.

So now I'm waiting, pacing through the living room, adjusting the various decorations while keeping an eye out for Tris.

I've invited others, of course. It wouldn't do to just be the two of us. Slowly, I'm beginning to understand how much Tris' friends here mean to her. So I've invited as many people as I've been able to get a hold of. Now all I can do is wait.

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I'm just finishing rearranging the napkins by the fruit salad when I hear another person approach. I turn, raising an eyebrow at the really attractive man addressing. Damn, Tris has a whole collection of good-looking friends. If I were insecure, I'd be intimidated. As it is not the case, I at least enjoy the various amounts of eye candy.

"Well, thank you," I tell him, grinning at the compliment. It means a lot, to hear that party guests are appreciative of the effort I've put in in pulling this together. "I tried. It's for Tris, after all. I couldn't not throw her an awesome party."

I extend my hand for him to shake. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Christina, her friend from Chicago. And you appear to be one of a number of hot men she's collected as friends here. I'm going to have to get her to show me her ways." I offer another grin, hoping he gets that I'm more joking than actually hitting on him.

Oliver returns the grin as he shakes Christina's hand, struck almost immediately at the difference in the two girls - if only by how much Christina speaks and how much Tris doesn't. Or rather, how much Christina speaks to someone she's just met.

"I'm Oliver," he says, and shakes his head. "I'm not sure I can comment on a hot men collection."

People sometimes seem surprised by the fact that Tris and I are friends. Watching Tris interact with some of the other guests, I can see how she still keeps part of herself reserved. She's much more open than she used to be, but, I think, fondly, you can take the girl from Abnegation, but you can't take the Abnegation out of the girl. And honestly, I think our differences are what, in part, make our friendship so strong.

"Nice to meet you, Oliver," I say, laughing at his observation on my comment. "You don't need to comment. Just bask in it."

Seven years ago, Oliver just might have. Now, he takes the compliment with some embarrassment, but takes it in stride.

"I'll try," he says, letting out a small laugh in return. "Looks like you're settling in well."

I can tell he's embarrassed from the sound of his small laugh. But he's a good sport about it regardless, and I can see how Tris likes him as a friend. They seem to me to share a similar reserve about themselves.

"Trying to," I say, glancing out at the party around us. Settling in as much as one can when one knows what I've left behind in Chicago. "Not the first city I've been trapped in, so I think that helps."

Oliver knows what being trapped is like, though Lian Yu was a vastly different experience from here. There was some comfort in familiarity in Darrow, but he knew from what Tris told him of their Chicago, it was not the same for her or Christina.

"Chicago, right? Tris told me a little bit about your world."

In Darrow, at least, the citizens who are brought here from outside the city are aware of the situation. Not like Chicago, where, until some of us broke free of the confines of the city, everyone remained ignorant of their own status as an experiment. It does make me wonder, though. The so-called 'native' Darrow citizens. What keeps them convinced that they've always been in this city?

"Yeah," I nod. I'm sure he doesn't know all of it; least of all, he can't be aware of what I've seen in our world. "And I don't know how much Tris has told you, but yes. Chicago was a bubble, like Darrow. Except we all thought we were the only ones left."

"She told me that much," Oliver says with a nod, a bit of his lightness melting away with the reminder of the world she'd come from. He still sees her nearly drowning in a glass box sometimes, and wonders what kind of world would do that to someone as a test.

Probably a world not to different from his own, considering the journey he went through before he finally got home to Starling.

"Darrow's a bit nicer than your Chicago sounded like."

"Yeah, at least this place doesn't have serums, to mold people to their way of thinking. Or erase their memories entirely," I say, the bitterness exuding from every word. Not that I trust that there isn't some dark, ulterior motive to this place; Darrow's secrets seem more subtle than those of Chicago, but present, nonetheless.

He speaks with genuine understanding, and I remember what Tris told me, that he knows how to make a weapon out of anything. I suspect he has his own experiences with places like Chicago.

"When we left, Chicago was in the middle of a power struggle," I admit. "And outside the city, well. They made it seem nice, at first. But in the end, all we ever were was an experiment to the government." I glance over at Tris, who doesn't know this yet. I'm glad for her.

"That's...new," Oliver says, brows rising. He assumes Tris doesn't know this, otherwise she would have mentioned it at some point, considering how much she's told him about herself and her world -- which does bring up the occasional bout of guilt in Oliver as he doesn't quite reciprocate that trust yet.

"It's how they kept people in line, in their own Factions," I state matter-of-fact. Perhaps I should feel some guilt at being so open with a person I've just met, but that potential guilt barely holds up against the way the words just kind of come out. "Different Factions incorporated these serums into their initiation rites, even."

Give you something good to celebrate. [Gathering; Pre-dated to 6/5/15]

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