party! } welcome to the new age

[bittersweeter]

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

WHO || Everyone ever aka whomever is in the castle
WHAT || Lila is throwing a party
WHERE || Large parlor room
WHEN || Tuesday, July 23, 2013; 9pm onwards
HOW || Actionspam, threadjack away.

This isn't exactly a squiring after party. Lila's never been to a knighting (and the odds are not in her favor) but she doubts this party is much like it either. The invitation comes in the form of a mass text message sent the day before -- she doesn't care who gets it, its not as if Wynn is going to come to her party. A date, a time, a location, and the rules. She doesn't give a reason.

The rules are simple: dress up classy, don't bring a gift, and wear a mask. It's a masquerade, after all, a mask is a prerequisite. Lila is even so kind as to provide them, a porcelain bowl perched on a chair by the door holds an array; running the gamut from Phantom of the Opera white to classic Venetian blue and gold to Dia de los Muertos red and black. Anyone without a mask is subject to Lila's wrath.

The room is entirely lit by tea lights floating in small glass bowls, leaving long shadows across the walls, and strings of red fairy lights draped across doorways and windows. Music is playing somewhere, loud and dark, forcing you to press up against the person you're talking to. A table shoved against the wall is covered with bottles of fancy champagne, wine, expensive vodka and, the odd man out, pink lemonade. She and Faye might have gone a tad overboard with the alcohol. Blue plastic cups sit in a tottering pile off to the side, a jumble of colorful paper umbrellas dotting the free space on the desk. Another table holds a towering monstrosity of nibbles -- chocolates and tiny cream puffs, miniature Madeline cookies and delicate eclairs. Nothing to fill up on if you're worried about drinking on an empty stomach. Not her problem, she is obviously catering to the younger crowd here. Namely herself.

Lila is around, face half hidden by a simple lacy black mask. Her one blue eye and one green eye would be a dead giveaway if her scar didn't already make it perfectly clear who is behind the mask. She's not playing hostess, she had enough of that back home being Daddy's little darling. This is the first birthday party she has had in almost four years, but even determined to make the most of her experience, she remains at the fringes, drink in hand. The combination of pink lemonade and vodka makes her nostalgic.

Don't worry though, she has her gloves on.

For now.

Comments

[bittersweeter]

[ and here she thought he was going to tell her he was married. or gay. or both. serial killing scourge of chicago had, oddly enough, not crossed her mind. her head dips slightly, forehead pressed to his shoulder.

can she really say anything about it? her first instinct is torture. at least murder was slightly more dignified than leaving someone in a drooling, vegetative state. lila knows she isn't a good person. she also knows that she hand delivered men (bad guys, at least) into cassel's hands for him to kill. enough that she lost count on her little paws. there is no possible way for her to judge.

that doesn't make it any less... unnerving. delicately, she sits up, pulling the sheet up to wrap around herself. ] Gimme a second to process this. Can you, um, can you tell me why?

[watchmaker]

The flashes I talked about? I killed people back home. That's all I can remember. But it's not — it's not just killing. It's for their abilities. I can absorb them. That's how I'm able to do what I can do. [he keeps his focus down at his hands instead of looking at her; that made it a little bit easier.]

[bittersweeter]

[ her head whips around. ] Their abilities? [ the hand holding the sheet to her chest clenches into a fist. she has an ability. one he had been very curious about. ] Are you... Did. Was all this [ her other hand motions around the room, "all this" implying the night in general. ] just so you could --

[watchmaker]

[ok that hurts ... but shouldn't be unexpected.] What? No. I like you too much. If I were just going to kill you, I would have done that ages ago.

[bittersweeter]

[ her shoulders go limp at his answer, head turning back to stare at the sheets, silent for a long time. she doesn't know how she's supposed to react. she knows how she should react, it involves a lot of screaming. but since she is not in danger... she can't find it in herself to care. she didn't know any of those people and it isn't like he's doing it for fun or because he's bored.

and he said the magic words, i like you too much. lila can't fight that. ]

It's funny. I told Corsone you were mine. Not, like, a pet or something. But mine.

[watchmaker]

How ironic. [he leans back against the headboard. he's already told her this much, might as well keep going ... ] I've been staying in Chicago because of the prophecy. I need to know what it is. If I just knew, maybe I could learn something about myself. Who I am, who I'm supposed to be. Even if I really am just a monster.

[bittersweeter]

You're not a monster. [ she doesn't move to sit next to him again, still processing, but she turns to drape her legs over his so it could lead him to believe the processing is going well. her arms go over her knees and she drops her head against them. (okay, processing is going well-ish.) ] I don't remember the prophecy. [ because of how it mattered not at all to her. ]

[watchmaker]

I tell you all of that, and you still don't think I'm a monster? [he should be happy but instead he just feels ... confused. what was he expecting? he doesn't know. not this, apparently.]

[bittersweeter]

Do you want me to? I mean, do you want to get into a debate about what makes a monster? Is Frankenstein's monster the monster or is it Frankenstein himself? Spoiler alert, it's both. If you're a monster than so am I so I really don't give a fuck. [ her sigh is extremely frustrated. ] Look, you just flew in for my birthday and your version of pillow talk is "by the way, sometimes I kill people and take their super cool abilities like the one that chucked your underwear across the room" so forgive me if I'm having a little trouble being super empathetic to your discomfort, but my not thinking you're a monster is literally the last thing you should be dwelling on. [ 5000% done. ]

[watchmaker]

[well he sure does feel ... scolded. time to sink down under the covers like he could somehow make himself disappear.] Sorry.

[bittersweeter]

[ ugh this is hard. scrambling off the bed, she retrieves his shirt and yanks it on before climbing right back on. kneeling next to him, she pulls the covers away from his face, kissing his nose. ] You can't hide under there forever.

[watchmaker]

Sure I can, it's nice and toasty. [he doesn't try to take the covers back, tho.]

[bittersweeter]

You'll starve.

[watchmaker]

No I won't. I'll just be hungry for the rest of eternity. Which ... admittedly, sounds miserable, but I still could.

[bittersweeter]

What if you have to pee?

[watchmaker]

Fine, all right, you win. I can't stay here forever.

[bittersweeter]

Good. [ the satisfied smile is fleeting, buts its their. ] Now will you talk to me? I'm sorry that I don't know how I'm supposed to react to any of this, I thought I was taking it pretty well.

[watchmaker]

You are. Well, I think you are, anyway. I don't exactly have a list of people to compare reactions with.

[bittersweeter]

So what's wrong?

[watchmaker]

Nothing. I don't know. I've never done this before, okay? Telling anyone who I am. It's weird.

[bittersweeter]

Do you want me to... I don't know, leave you alone for a while?

[watchmaker]

That's the last thing I want you to do.

[bittersweeter]

Okay. [ which leaves her at a loss for what actually to do, chewing on her thumbnail nervously. after some thought she just curls up quietly next to him, pulling the cuffs of the sleeves over her hands, nosing her nose against it in a distinctly feline manner. ]

[watchmaker]

[that's enough for him, tbh. although he does snake one arm around her shoulders.] I hope I didn't ruin your birthday.

[bittersweeter]

Not a chance. [ a beat. ] Though now I'm realizing how great that offer to take me to murder scenes with the Rice Krispies still snapping really is. [ yeah, she has not forgotten that offer. not one bit. ]