Christopher had looked for a place where he could hide out, but having been met with little success, he had eventually found his way to the food. And, after a few snacks, he had found himself in the mood for champagne - which, it turned out, was quite disarming. He had had it a few times before, of course, but never in this quantity, and it took about four or five glasses to decide he really liked it.
Looking over at someone, Christopher finally spoke, for perhaps the third time this evening, a glass of champagne in one hand and a crutch in the other.
“‘ey, check this. They’re just giving it away like it’s water or something.” He grinned, expression unusually bright for him before darkening slightly. Christopher took another drink. “Dunno why, though. We’re “celebrating” that hella depressing witch burning, but y’know, throw enough glittery lights at people and I guess...I guess it just goes away.”
