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@alexanderbarrett
Oh, I think most people do. There was one year where I bumped into a rather unpleasant character under some spelled mistletoe… it was not a good night.
But hopefully I wont have to worry about that this time…
Well, considering I don't consider myself unpleasant and am unlikely to kiss anyone underneath the mistletoe, you won't have to worry if we get caught under some together.
I’m happy to see the little pink things are once again here. I’ll be sure to get drunk again, but this time I have to try avoid the mistletoe too.
Got a bit of bad history with the mistletoe, do you?
Juniper frowned as she sipped on the bottle.
"But it’s h-hardly disrespectful to l-leave early. You d-don’t want to be the l-last to leave. A-also, w-what if you were suddenly struck by illness at the p-party? He c-can’t expect you to just stay and s-suffer. Or worse, p-pass it to someone e-else b-because you were both st-standing under mistletoe."
With his permission, she loosened his tie and straightened out his shirt’s collar. She frowned at the knot of his tie, undoing it with quick fingers and determinedly tying a better knot.
"I’m n-not well." she admitted, "But I’m w-well enough to b-be in this ball f-for a little bit."
"Yeah, well, I've gotta follow Avery's orders," he grumbled with a scowl, rolling his eyes and folding his arms tighter across his chest. He didn't hate Avery or anything, of course not, he just...he wished that the alpha would lighten up a bit when it came to trying to appease the humans and Angels of Light. He knew that Avery could be quite the ballbuster when he wanted to be, but he seemed to be more...complacent with the human court ever since the war had broken out. Alex couldn't help but think it had everything to do with their alliance to the humans, but still...he didn't want to be here.
He cleared his throat awkwardly as Juniper went about fixing his tie; if she hadn't asked, he wouldn't have given a damn about the way it looked. Dressing up like a doll wasn't exactly within Alexander's realm of comfort.
"Ah, I see," he answered finally, cocking a brow at her. "So basically, you feel like shit but are forced to be here anyway...a bit like the rest of us."
I don’t really have a story, man. Let’s just say I was in the village that was being burnt to the ground, so I don’t particularly appreciate the celebration when so many lost their lives.
My, it’s easy to bring the mood down isn’t it. Sorry.
Come on, kid, everyone has a story; just 'cause you don't wanna share it doesn't mean it's not there. A lot of people were in that village...a lot of people who shouldn't have even been there in the first place.
Hell, it's not exactly the most festive mood right now.
"I couldn’t agree with you more." Agreeing with a small nod of her head, she watched the couple, the man attempting a sort of spin of sorts to lure her closer. She shook her head some, glancing over towards the fellow werewolf.
"Oh?" Rosalie rose an eyebrow, before she gestured to his drink. "In that case, would you care to grace me with a dance Alexander?" Her tone proper, yet laced with sarcasm, she turned her attention to the couple once more. "I’m surprised you haven’t made your hasty retreat, being such a fan of festivities.”
If there was one thing Alex could count on tonight, it was the sense that he wasn't alone in mocking those having a good time at the ball. It might have been considered cruel and bitter to those who were having the time of their lives this evening, but...truth be told, Alex couldn't really be fucked to care. The ball was insensitive to those who had suffered gravely in the last battle, and he suspected that...if the princess or a nobleman had passed away in the heat of the raid, then the King and Queen most certainly wouldn't have suggested a party to liven everyone's spirits.
"A dance?" he sked, quirking a brow and fighting off the grin that etched to stretch across his face. Rosalie was a lively girl, and in the times he'd spoken with her, he'd grown to appreciate her company a great deal. There wasn't the usual bullshit with her like there was with human girls he'd often encountered in the marketplace. "You know me; I like to wait until the party really gets going before I make a proper entrance."
So Cold || Gwen & Alexander
It just wasn’t the night of her dreams and it was never going to be. She would never question or insult her rulers out loud, but in her own mind was a whole different story. "Smile, Gwen!" the queen had called to her at one point in the evening. But she just couldn’t do it and make it look right. She just ended up looking like she was going to be sick. A guard she vaguely knew had pressed a glass of champagne in her hand and told her that it would help, but it just wasn’t. All it was doing was giving her a headache and making her tired (as alcohol usually did). Unlike the masquerade all those months ago, this ball just wasn’t magical or even fun.
That night, so long ago, the lights had been brilliant and brought a shimmering glow to everything. Tonight, they seemed too bright and harsh. The music wasn’t joyful, it was grating and too loud. Many, if not most of, the laughs seemed overly forced and fake. Maybe it was all just in Gwen’s mind. Perhaps it was her sour mood making the party seem distasteful. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that her sister’s grave was still fresh and perhaps the one person she felt most comfortable being around (besides her brother) was being unreasonable. That wasn’t fair, she knew (and she never should have cursed in front of him), but it simply hurt the way he’d spoken to her and been angry at her for being worried and wanting him to not take his issues out on his friends.
And she had sworn over and over that she was done thinking about that. God, she was pathetic. She couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about it. All it did was make her blood boil and eyes water. It was pathetic and stupid and ridiculous. It was utterly nonsensical. Thinking about the things that had gone wrong for her recently wouldn’t change anything. She just wanted to sleep. One of the worst parts of this whole party business was how much cleaning had needed to be done in such a short amount of time. She was just tired, and the last thing she wanted to do was pretend to be a happy bundle of energy. And so, needing to rest her eyes and head, Gwen snuck out onto one of the expansive balconies. Her breath came out in large white puffs and gooseflesh quickly erupted on her skin, but the dark and quiet was just what she needed right then.
With a heavy sigh, she leaned her arms against the cold railing and closed her eyes, face pointed towards the glittering stars above.
Maybe the wine wasn't half bad, and neither was the mead, but every minute Alexander had to spend in the presence of others, participating in a party that felt as flat and fake as half of the nobles he'd met in his lifetime, he felt as though his life was waning away before his very eyes. It was one thing to address and acknkowledge the corruption of inequal power and privilege in Sansoria, but it was another entirely to be forced to live it. How could the King and Queen have reasonably expected everyone to be in attendance at the ball tonight? How was it even possible for Sansoria's rulers to think that something like this was even a good idea? It wasn't just the ill timing of it all; it was the fact that only certain members of their crumbling society could manage to afford party outfits and formal wear that had been required of them. Even Alex, who was doing pretty well with his blacksmith business, had been forced to root around in one of his trunks for some old dress robes he'd worn only a few times in his life.
The good news was that Alex wasn't completely alone; to the best of his knowledge, most of his acquaintances were as displeased with the idea of throwing a ball so soon after a funeral as he was. Werewolves, humans, and other supernaturals alike...no one seemed to be too pleased with the royal family for doing this (Christian Bennet, that loyal watchdog, excluded). He'd seen a few members of his pack already tonight--Avery in passing, Christian from a distance, and even Rosalie, who was watching others dance from a distance--but they'd done very little to numb the ache and irritation swelling in young Alexander's heart. Finally, so irritated he could barely breathe, the werewolf decided to slilp out of the main ballroom, making his way towards one of the castle's balconies for a bit of fresh air.
And when he finally burst forth from the glittering party room, what he found was enough to shock him into standing as still as a statue.
Seeing Gwen Carlyle at an event such as this--though he knew her attendance was more than likely mandatory--was a bit of a surprise, given everything that had happened to her. Though Alex ahd been the one to help the woman to safety the day of the raid, he hadn't so much as breathed a word of his identity to her. Instead, he'd kept quiet and observed her from a distance, wondering just how well she was doing now that her sister had passed. A few beats of silence passed before Alex stepped forward into the twilight with her, stuffing his hands inside of his pockets and leaning against the stone railing of the castle's balcony.
"I take it you needed a break as well, then?" he asked, casting a furtive glance in her direction before gazing up at the stars twinkling miles and miles above them.
These sorts of occasions were the absolute best for people watching. Nothing like a little music to get spirits flowing and wine to loosen those inhibitions, making for some interesting scenarios. Gaze aimed ahead, Rosalie smirked lightly to herself, glancing towards the person beside her, she spoke. “See that man over there?” She gestured to the man not too far away, drink in hand, other hand outstretched as he attempted to dance with a giggling woman. “He’s either had one too many and doesn’t know what he’s trying to do himself or, which is my bet, he’s trying to lure her under that mistletoe over there.”
Alexander wanted to go home. He hated parties, hated the stigma that came along with them, hated absolutely everything that came with the territory of a ball in the middle of a fucking war. Sure, the liquor was good, and yeah, the music wasn't half bad, but his formal wear was itchy and he had no one to pass the evening with. Thus far into the evening, Alexander had managed to sulk off in the corner, sipping on mead and sharing company with some people on and off over thel ast few hours. And just when he was about to give up and head to a table to hang out until it was suitable for him to leave, he spotted a familiar face. One of his own.
Sauntering up beside her, he fought to keep the smile off his face as she brought his attention towards a couple dancing out on the floor.
"He looks like a damn fool, that's for sure," he muttered, shaking his head and taking a sip from his goblet. "I'm surprised yo uaren't out there. Dancing with merry, drunken men."
Juniper made grabby fingers at the bottle, but made no move to snatch it back. She sagged against the wall and sighed.
"Y-you know, I b-bet if y-you just turned into a wolf now and ran out the d-door, no one would stop you."
"You’ve m-made an appearance. You’ve sh-shown y-your face. If a-anyone w-was taking attendance, y-you’d be m-marked as present."
She gave him a little smile and ducked her head down at his quirked brow.
"I…" she poked one bare toe out from beneath her skirt. The Valentinas never managed to get Juniper to wear shoes, and a formal ball wasn’t going to make a lick of difference to her in terms of dress code, "I b-broke the arms of three w-witch doctors and g-gave a healer a b-bad concussion. They w-wanted to l-look me o-over a-a-after I m-made it b-back to the c-castle and they w-wouldn’t l-listen when I t-told them I d-didn’t want anyone t-touching me."
She shrugged apologetically, the shame of losing control still fresh in her memory. When he complained about his clothes rubbing him the wrong way, Juniper held up her hands hesitantly.
"W-well, your c-collar isn’t quite straightened out. And your t-tie is a l-little tight. M-may I?"
Alexander glanced down at the bottle when Juniper gestured for it, only just now realizing he still had it in his grasp. He took another sip before handing it over to her for good, licking his lips and resigning to live off the free alcohol for the evening. He might wind up with a splitting headache come morning, but anything would be better than watching the minutes tick by slowly and praying he was back at home safe in his bed.
"I'd love to, trust me," he grumbled, scowling and rolling his eyes. "Just one problem with that: Avery knows who's here tonight, and I'm sure he'll be keeping an annoying check on all of us. He wants to be here as much as I do, I'd guess, but he still wants us to all respect those we're allied with. Species leaders, man..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders and sighing. "I don't get them."
He cocked his head to the side slightly when he noticed her toe peeking out from underneath the hem of her dress, wondering if it was common for the Angel of Light to traipse about the estate barefoot. It brought a small smile to his face...one that froze and fell on his face the moment Juniper admitted that she'd been harmed in battle. Most of them did, of course, but it was one thing to suspect it and another entirely to actually hear it.
"You're alright, though, aren't you?" he asked, his lips tugging into a frown. "I mean, if you're still fucked up or something, then you really shouldn't--" Alexander hesitated when she spoke to his tie, glancing down at it before nodding once. "Sure, have at it; I'm shit with these things, anyway. So meaningless."
No, I suppose not, especially not us Fey. We’re wired a little different and that makes most of us even more flippant.
Wired different...maybe so, but it's still a bit strange (and comical) to see how forward you all are.
Yes, but unfortunatley, the royal Highnesses will not be persuaded to change their minds. So, if you’ve ever felt like dancing with anyone in such a formal setting, now is probably your only chance.
Right; dance before I die. Seems to be the motto here this evening, doesn't it? Did you at least try and talk some sense into them beforehand? The King and Queen, I mean.
Tell me about it. Merry fucking Christmas.
You seem as pleased as I do; what's your story, then?
That sounds just about right. Fascinating how the human mind works, isn’t it?
I don't seem to see many supernaturals showing any sort of issue with it, either. Pretty sure I saw someone in your court rubbing herself up against some man near the bar earlier.
"It w-was either going to go to y-you, or me. Or Gwen, f-for that m-matter. I b-bet between the th-three of us, we could k-keep e-every guest in th-this entire b-ball sober."
"I h-have places I’d rather be. L-like the stables. M-my horse needs his hooves tended t-to. And he g-gets anxious when he l-loses sight of me n-now."
It was endearing, in a way, to see the massive, fearsome Caedo reduced to a broody stallion who would just nuzzle Juniper’s face, constantly assuring himself that his angel was in fact standing there before him.
"A-also, I’m n-not sure how s-safe it is for m-me to be around civilians r-right now. You c-could say I’m st-still adjusting from—" from the battle.
"But what about y-you, Alex? I kn-know the extravagance rubs y-you the wrong way."
"Sounds like we could keep the wine cellars and liquor shops in business, then," Alexander managed with a tight-lipped grin, running a hand through his hair. He was bitter about everything that revolved around this ball: what it stood for, the fact that it was being held so soon after a mass funeral, the fact that he'd been forced to wear formal clothing when he could scarcely afford to purchase a stitch of dress clothes.
"I know what it feels like," he managed with a sigh, shaking his head sadly and glancing around the ballroom with a great deal of disdain. "I wish I was back in my shop; either that, or getting a decent night's rest. It all feels so purposeless, you know? Being stuck here like this." He wrinkled his nose slightly, as if to illustrate his disgust with the entire event.
At the very least, the angel seemed to understand why he didn't want to be here. He quirked a brow when she mentioned she was trying to adjust, but he didn't press her on the matter; if Juniper wished to discuss what was bothering her, then she was more than welcome to vent to Alexander about it...but he wasn't going to pry a confession out of her. That wasn't his style.
"It does rub me the wrong way; everything about this place rubs me the wrong way. My clothes are rubbing me the wrong way."
"Here. Just..just don’t d-drink it all, please."
Juniper eyed the bottle, hoping that there would be enough for her after the werewolf was through with it. Another ball. No. Just…no. After what happened at the last one, her strained relationship with Noah, the number of dead that had been recovered, it twisted her insides to even think of going.
But that was Juniper.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Alexander muttered, grabbing the bottle by its neck and tilting it back. He took a hearty swallow from the liquor, wiping his mouth and licking his lips once he'd finished before handing the bottle back over to the kind angel now fidgeting in front of him. "Thanks, by the way...for the alcohol."
Studying her in silence for a few moments, Alexander folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall.
"You look about as happy to be here as I am."
Alexander Barrett in Under the Mistletoe
Some key notes on his attire:
• A rich grey dress suit that has been tailored and altered as he's grown
• A red dress shirt to play on the "theme" of the ball
• A simple dark tie to match his grey dress suit
• Some new shoes he splurged on for events exactly like this
• Some cologne he bartered for (among other things) with some metal he'd welded into a set of rings
I’ll have to agree with you there. I tried to discuss with the King and Queen about how it really would not be appropriate but they seemed desperate to continue the tradition of a ball at Christmas.
It all seems so...so useless. Like a big 'Merry Christmas! Sorry the people you give a shit about are dead, but here's some fruitcake to maybe make up for your loss!'
So, let me get this straight...a fuck ton of people just died, and we're having a Christmas party?
...Pass me the alcohol. And plenty of it.
