Tristan Kasnoff

[angstfactory]

"Do you have that happen often?" they wondered, walking backwards a few steps in order to look at Tristan. "Theoretical flirtations for social experiments?" Claudio could hardly imagine what kind of situation that would be in, anyway. But, to have the other man confirm so bluntly that he was, in fact, flirting with them, only emboldened them further. As they faced forward once more, they continued, "No, I think this is exactly as it reads... You're walking me home because you kind of like me, and I asked you to walk me back because I kind of like you, too." Claudio looked his way, with a small smile. "No hidden agendas."

And they did mean like in the most innocent, superficial sense of the word, too. The two had only met tonight, they couldn't possibly like each other as anything more than curiously feeling out an attraction.

"Next time, I'll have to introduce you to some others," Claude told Tristan. "I'm aware of my bias as their friend, but I do think there were quite a few people in attendance tonight that are interesting and you might be just as intrigued with. Besides," they smiled at him, "you're new in town? That's how you'll make friends."

It didn't take long, before they were holding open the door for Tristan and then pausing in front of their temporary housing. "Oh, because," Claudio glanced over their shoulder at the door to the apartment briefly, gesturing to it, "this is me. I told you, it wasn't far." They studied the other a moment, the slightest waver of their so-called confidence causing a few seconds hesitance until they thought, carelessly, what did it matter? How likely was it that the two of them would even see each other, seriously, after tonight? Not very! "So, in keeping with classic Disney telling," Claude said, reaching to take Tristan's coat and draw him in a bit closer in a bold move, their eyes meeting his, "this would be the part where the two young loves share a kiss? Despite knowing almost nothing about each other."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as Claudio so confidently narrated the fairytale they seemed to be writing together. "You know," he murmured, allowing the other to tug his coat from his shoulder. "Disney usually gets one thing right..." he whispered. "Sometimes you just know when you want to kiss somebody."

Closing the remaining distance, Tristan cupped Claudio's cheek with one hand before his lips met theirs in a slow, lingering kiss, gentle enough to leave room for either of them to pull away but confident enough to show he meant every second of it. When Claudio remained close, Tristan's free hand settled naturally at their waist, drawing them a little nearer until they were standing almost chest to chest. As the kiss broke, he couldn't help the quiet, breathless chuckle that escaped him. "Well," he said, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against Claudio's side where his hand still rested, "I think Prince Charming just got a lot luckier than he expected tonight." His forehead lingered against Claudio's for another moment, a playful smile returning. "Tell me this isn't the part where midnight strikes and you disappear before I can get your number because I think I want another kiss."  With those words, he captured Claudio’s lips again with a more heated kiss pressing Claudio firmly against the door frame.

[tristan--kasnoff]

LOCATION: Wheels Drive in Theatre WHO: @thexcarrollxtimes

The two had just gotten to the place, Tristan a bit nervous about this being an actual date. Things with her were confusing with his feelings towards several people he had met since coming to Carroll. But he decided to push that far back in the depths of his mind and focus on just them for tonight.

Still, he was going to make the best of tonight.  Slipping his hand into hers, he didn’t let go as they wandered toward the concession stand, shoulders brushing every few steps, his thumb lazily tracing circles across the back of her hand as if he had been looking for an excuse to hold it since last week over melting ice cream. "You know," he said after a comfortable silence settled between them, glancing sideways with an easy smile, "I've been looking forward to this, the movies and all." Tristan wanted to say and you, but was unable to spit those words out just yet. "Thanks for inviting me." One thing he enjoyed about her, was she made him feel at ease and the time together was just to be enjoyed. No pressure. "Come on. I'm buying the popcorn, the candy, and whatever drink you want. If we're doing a drive-in right, we're doing it with enough snacks to last both movies."

[tristan--kasnoff]

LOCATION: House Boat WHO: @angstfactory

Tristan lingered awkwardly for a moment before holding out a flat, carefully wrapped package toward Grayson. "Alright, before you make this weird, just take it." A light huff escaped him as he shoved it a little closer. Inside was a framed black-and-white photograph of Grayson from years ago, balanced on a surfboard in the middle of a wave, caught in one of those rare moments where he looked completely free and unaware of the camera in Tristan’s hands. The frame itself wasn't expensive, but the photograph was the first of his he ever printed and showed to someone.

His hands disappeared into his pockets once the gift was surrendered. "I know it's not much," Tristan admitted, his smile turning smaller. "But you took me in when you didn't have to. You gave me a place to land when things were...what they were." He shrugged, looking away briefly before meeting Grayson's eyes again. "Figured you deserved something that reminded you of who you are when you're not busy taking care of me."

[angstfactory]

Tristan was quite quick-witted, really. They admired the way he could fire back, light on his feet. Made them think he would actually be very good at improv games, which were some of their favorite exercises. "You could be right, but this was only my second one, so I can't refute your thesis with any substantiated data." Claudio kicked gently at a larger rock on the pavement, sending it off to the side. A fresh flush to their face even as they once more, looked down at themselves, this time with attention to their clothes, "Right, right, right... Cinderella, of course, and these are the rags my beautiful dress turned into. And to think, you didn't even need to test my feet to discover me!" Their chuckle was low, amused, mildly flattered, even.

"Oh, it wasn't obvious?" they openly flirted back, their lips pressing in together briefly, before biting their bottom lip gently. Tristan made them feel seen. It was hard not to enjoy his company. Now, the young man was certainly a dark shade, their face felt on fire from the attention. The flattery working to have them slightly nervous, but the kind that made one excited to see what happened next. Because for some reason, they could sense that inviting the other man to walk them home, wasn't going to end with a simple goodnight. This kind of thing never really happened to them, yet they'd seen it happen well enough around them. In the movies, in the plays. Their own characters have been through this many times, stage kisses and groping galore. But this was real life. "I guess then... you should walk me home," Claude decided, just to see if they were right in reading the moment. Walking closer, pausing at Tristan's side. "Don't be a fool... C'mon," they murmured, gently bumping his shoulder with theirs, inclining their head in the direction to go, before walking on, wondering if Tristan would follow or laugh it all off.

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan watched Claudio step ahead of him, the corner of his mouth tugging upward almost immediately. The shoulder bump felt ridiculous in the best possible way, light enough to be playful but carrying just enough confidence to make his pulse kick up a notch. "There it is," he called after them, falling into step beside them without hesitation. "I was starting to think all that flirting was theoretical." He slid his hands into his pockets, glancing over with an easy grin. "Good thing you clarified. I would hate to spend the rest of the night wondering whether the beautiful stranger at the wedding actually liked me or was just conducting some sort of social experiment."

The evening air was cooler away from the reception, Tristan found himself paying less attention to where they were going and more to the person beside him. "For the record, I'm glad you're real," he admitted, his voice softer than before. "The odds of me meeting someone interesting at a wedding weren't exactly high. Usually I leave these things with a bottle in my hands and three new reasons to avoid social gatherings." His gaze drifted to Claudio, warm and amused. "Instead, I got talked into escorting Cinderella aka you home. That's a pretty solid return on investment if you ask me. Especially I am Prince Charming in this scenario."  Then he noticed they came to a stop, "why are we stopping?"

[angstfactory]

Grayson returned a laugh. "Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are, alright?" he held out his hands in a what-can-ya-do sort of gesture. "I wasn't expecting to come here and know people but, that's life, I guess. Just full of surprises." And he smiled over them. "You know me, I don't like to throw anyone away." Gray had a nice collection of people in his past, all good for one reason or another.

"Might be crazy?" That label stirred some interest in him, looking over at Tristan. "Now what could have happened to cause them to even potentially be in that category? You've been having yourself a night too?" Grayson grinned, largely, as he was called the favorite uncle. "You're only uncle, but I'll take it. Just keep it down, alright? Don't need everyone in the room hearing how old that makes me sound."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan snorted into his drink, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, that's because you're physically incapable of throwing anyone away. Whether you should or not.”

At the question, he laughed again and leaned back in his chair. "Nothing dramatic. Yet. It's more of a vibe-based assessment." Tristan waved a hand vaguely toward the crowd. "You know how some people introduce themselves and within thirty seconds you're thinking, this person definitely has a restraining order somewhere? That's what I'm working with.” His grin widened. "So no, I haven't had myself a night. Give me another month in Carroll and I'm sure that'll change." He paused before adding, "And for the record, being my only uncle doesn't automatically make you my favorite. You earned that title fair and square. But discussing the night, I think I might wander around a bit more.  I’ll meet you at home.”

[angstfactory]

@tristan--kasnoff

Ultimately, they had decided not to spend the day cooped up in the attic, feeling like a terrible friend and sorry for themselves. But Claude hadn't wanted to go back out to join the celebration, either. Instead, they checked with a couple of friends, until one turned out to be available: Tristan.

Now, they found themselves on a surf board in the ocean, with a rash guard shirt sticking to their skin like spandex and swim trunks on. One of the few out there fully covered, because they were uncomfortable about their body. "Um.." They shifted so they were sitting up on the board, legs straddled it, their attention on the other man trying to teach them how to surf. "I know I'm a novice here and everything but... don't we need some waves to make this work?" Claude bit down on their bottom lip, trying to prevent a smile, but the amusement was there in their tone. "It's not very... wavy today.." Now they cupped their hands over their mouth, to stiffle the giggles. Of course it wouldn't be windy when they were wanting to surf!

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan let out a small laugh as he looked over at his student/friend. The ocean was almost suspiciously calm, little swells rolling beneath them rather than the dramatic waves most people imagined when they thought of surfing. He pushed damp hair back from his forehead and flashed Claude a grin.

“Today’s perfect for what we need, I don’t need you to drift off to sea then have to explain to everyone how I ended up losing a student.”

The board rocked gently beneath him as another small swell passed. Tristan pointed toward the horizon. "We're practicing the boring stuff first. Balance. Positioning. Not panicking when the ocean does ocean things." His smile softened into something warmer. "Besides, I don't mind sitting out here waiting." He tilted his head, studying the way Claude was trying to handle the board. "You're kind of cute when you're making fun of my teaching methods, you know that?" Tristan moved closer, tempted to kiss the other but refraining since the last time they locked lips it ended with the other’s grandma shooing him away and yelling at Claude.

[deputydarling]

who: @tristan--kasnoff where: cowabunga surf shop!

winnie was making her rounds, as she always did when tourist season started creeping back into carroll. technically, no one had asked her to do it and there were probably more urgent things on her calendar. the meeting packet sitting unread on her desk was not going to develop literacy out of pity, but winnie darling had always considered herself the face of carroll, and she intended to remain the face of carroll for as long as people kept smiling when she walked into a room.

so when new businesses popped up, winnie made sure she was there for the grand opening, posed for at least one photo, made an appropriately enthusiastic comment about community growth, and then stopped by once a week if she could. it was good politics, good manners, and, in her opinion, the kind of thing spreadsheets could never properly measure. that was how she had met tristan.

spotting him at the shop, winnie’s face brightened immediately, her smile arriving before the rest of her did. “hello!” she called, breezing closer with the kind of cheer that suggested she had either had coffee already or was about to make it everyone’s problem that she hadn’t. “is today the day we go out on the water and test your water skills?” her eyes sparkled with mischief. “because i brought optimism, sunscreen, and absolutely no useful emergency training.”

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan looked up the moment he heard her voice, expression shifting from concentration to immediate, slightly startled recognition. He had been half-focused on what he was doing, organizing supplies, or at least trying to make sense of where everything belonged because despite living with his uncle for years, he still never fully understood Uncle Gray’s organization methods. He blinked once, then let out a small, breathy laugh as her words caught up to him.

“Uh—hey,” he said, setting something down a little too carefully before straightening. His smile came slower than hers, but it was warm when it arrived. “I feel like ‘water skills’ is a generous way of putting it.” He glanced toward the docks, then back at her, a faint crease forming between his brows in amused concern. “Because if this is a test, I should probably tell you right now my resume is…mostly theoretical.” He shifted his weight, gesturing vaguely toward the water. “But I do appreciate that you brought optimism. That feels like the most important survival tool, honestly.”

[angstfactory]

"Wedding battlefield?" The phrase of it brought on a smile, amused at the imagery such a label brought. "Sounds very... Game of Thrones. You're not a fan of weddings? I could take them or leave them," Claudio shrugged. "They're good for nights like this, if nothing else." And that was plenty enough reason for tolerance in their book. An excuse to have some fun with their friends. "Nope, I can report that I am.." here they looked down at themselves, as if to double check the confirmation, "..flesh and blood and very much real, mi amigo."

Tristan's sudden sincere and gentle words caused the flush in their cheeks to deepen. "Oh." Claudio could have kicked himself. Oh? Oh? They had used this stupid gasp several times tonight already, and always when their brain couldn't tabulate anything substantial in time. "Well.. thank you for wanting to then," they corrected, the smile they had then shy. Though they came up with a quiet scoff, still amused though, as they said, "Come on, you don't expect me to believe that?" They couldn't help to doubt his words, not when there were how many other people at the reception tonight. But, they also didn't take his words seriously, because they didn't need any platitudes. Tonight had been a nice one. They had no complaints. "The free food and booze, I'd say, are the selling point for most people. But I went for the dancing and the company. Present included, by the way." With a grin and a heavy intake of breath, Claudio nodded, gesturing the way Tristan had come from. "Walking home to The Stacks.. been a long night.. I'd say you could walk me home, it's not too far, but.. looks like you're heading somewhere else?" They glanced over their shoulder, as if there might be a building somewhere with a sign on it with Tristan's name in neon lettering.

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I think every wedding turns into a battlefield eventually. People just hide the casualties behind expensive flowers and an open bar.” His grin lingered as he looked Claudio over again, amused by the confirmation that they were indeed real. “Good to know. I was worried you were some kind of wedding hallucination. You show up, steal a dance, say something charming, then disappear before I can verify you actually exist. Practically Cinderella there.”

The compliment earned a crooked smile that settled comfortably on his face. “Present included, huh?” he echoed, unable to hide how pleased he was by that. “Careful, Claudio. Keep talking like that and I might start believing you enjoyed my company and we just met.” At the mention of walking home, Tristan glanced in the direction he had originally been heading before looking back at them. “Truth be told, I wasn't heading anywhere important. Just walking because I wasn't quite ready for the night to be over yet.” His gaze held theirs for a beat, warm and unmistakably teasing. “So if you're offering me an excuse to spend a little more time with you on the way to The Stacks, I'd be a fool not to take it.”

[thexcarrollxtimes]

Her smirk softened as he tested out the insult. She liked the way he rolled it around on his tongue. It suited him. A little wiggle ran through her when he called it classy, but fell into shock when he hadn't heard of the sacred language. (More so that he hadn't given her a strange look for speaking it.) "Have you seen Fifth Element?" she asked, letting her surprise show freely. "It's a beautiful language," she told him with pride, her smile reflecting as such. Her eyes widening with realization. "I can teach you. Then you can hex all the rude devils without murdering your tongue," she said, mimicking the old starlets she'd seen in the classic films. "It's not so bad once you know what you're saying," she added encouragingly with a small shrug.

She nodded, biting back at her bottom lip a bit nervous that maybe she shouldn't have admitted to this being her first party. What if she had to explain why? "Illusion," she repeated very much the same as he had her insult, leaning against the bar backward on both arms, gently brushing elbows with him as she glanced out to the dance floor. There was that magic again. Was it actually real? She should look into that. "The gold bubbly and mini pies are amazing," she agreed, leaning her head toward him without breaking her gaze away from all the couples. "If you can keep a secret, I'm stealing some for my friend who couldn't make it because big mouth butthole told all of hers. Which is why I almost didn't come either," she admitted nonchalantly.

Her gaze finally found him when he said he liked her way better. That was also a first. "Yea? Well, when you grow up in the middle of nowhere it helps," she told him, hoping that wasn't too much to tell him of why, her cheeks warming gently. "My favorite part?" she hummed as she thought over her answer, rolling to lean on the bar back forward, closing the space between them almost unintentionally. "The food is good and the dancing has been fun," she started working through it with a small shrug, biting back at her smile. "But I heard talk of a theater upstairs," she said with her usual mischievousness back glimmering in her eyes. "And I am quite the movie buff as they say," she added with a soft giggle. "Depending on what they're showing up there, I think that is gonna be my favorite part."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan laughed softly. “You can teach me? Careful, that's a dangerous offer. Next thing you know I'll be walking around insulting people in Divinian and having absolutely no idea what I'm saying.” He tipped his glass toward her. “Though if it sounds anything like rude devil, I might be willing to learn. Fifth Element, however, I've actually seen. It's been years, but now I'm wondering how much of it went completely over my head.”

His grin widened when she admitted she was planning to smuggle food out for her friend. “See, that's exactly the kind of thing I mean. You're enjoying the party correctly.” He lowered his voice. “And for the record, I fully support grand larceny involving mini pies. Your secret's safe with me.” The warmth in his expression lingered as she spoke about growing up in the middle of nowhere. “Maybe that's the trick then. You haven't had the wonder beaten out of you yet.”

When she mentioned the theater upstairs, his brows lifted with genuine interest. “A theater?” He glanced upward as if he could somehow see through the ceiling. “Now that might actually be worth investigating.” His smile turned crooked again as he looked back at her. “If you're feeling particularly brave, we can go satisfy your movie buff curiosity ourselves.”

[angstfactory]

"Subtlety is a craft I've yet to learn to master," he agreed, unconcerned. With a toast to the staffer that just brought them a couple of fresh drinks, he took a healthy swig of it. Licking the taste from his lips, holding the glass in front of him in silent consideration. Thinking to himself how he could understand why so many in his family, and his friends, had gotten lost in the end of a bottle. "Interesting people, anyone I might know? Point 'em out," he suggested, giving a sideways grin towards Tristan. "As it turns out, I've come across another old flame I wasn't expecting to see. Her name's Elby. Met her while we were in New York... No idea yet how she managed to find her way all the way on this side of the States but, I'm not complaining."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan let out a laugh, lifting his glass toward Grayson. “Elby, huh? Look at you. I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already collecting old flames.” He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess Carroll's turning into some kind of reunion tour for you. You seem pretty pleased about it, though.”

He glanced around the room before looking back at his uncle. “As for my interesting people, too early to tell. Most of them are still sitting firmly in the ‘might be crazy’ category or extremely 'boring' category. I'll point them out when I've decided whether they're worth introducing to my favorite uncle or warning him about.”

[gaalwwaayy]

" but i think it’s a bit like wakes too, loads of forced emotions, projected emotions, " that was just her bitterness talking, because that’s exactly what she was doing right then—projecting her own shite onto this wedding and crying her eyes out like she was over the moon for a pair of total strangers. christ, she just wanted the comfort of grady’s lap, no questions asked, no explanations needed. still, she let out a dry laugh. " how much d'you reckon they get paid to do those touch-ups on the photos? " then she paused, trying to picture the inside of the reception and how everything looked just a bit too perfect. " to be fair, there doesn't seem to be a single authentic thing here. or is it just that we’re the problem? maybe we're just too bitter-sweet for this kind of craic? "

" come on, spill the tea, kid, " she started, spinning round on her heels to face him properly, giving him her full attention. she was far too long in the tooth when it came to grief and secrets, and masking both, not to spot the signs. " what’s your sad story then? you tell me yours and i’ll tell you mine. " she began, but she was being dead honest about ingrid—she truly hoped the woman found some peace and happiness for whatever time she had left in this world, right there by joel's side.

" just a young lad, i’d say, " she giggled, dabbing her eyes with a bit of tissue from her bag. " they’re taking the piss out of you, that’s nowhere near the truth. you look like a boy who’s only just finished growing. how old are you anyway, if you don't mind me asking? " she shrugged her shoulders, as if putting her hands up to it. " that’s just me, always legging it and hiding away. but you don't need to be like me, you definitely ought to go inside and meet the grand people in there. just watch your step with a few of them, they're pure bitter and you can expect the absolute worst if you tread on their toes. you can tell just from the vibe of the person, like. we don't want to be caught on the hop and find out the hard way, do we? " she shivered at the absolute thought of it. " so, why are you hiding away from the bash anyway? shouldn't you be out there trying to make a few mates or something? "

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan let out a low hum, considering that. “Maybe that's it,” he said, glancing through the window toward the glow of the reception. “Maybe half the people in there are performing happiness and the other half are performing whatever version of themselves they think everybody wants to see.” He rolled the glass between his hands. “As for the photos? I'd say not enough. If someone's got to Photoshop away three breakdowns, two family feuds, and whatever poor life choice happens after midnight, they deserve hazard pay.”

At her challenge, a crooked smile pulled at his mouth. “You make it sound a lot more interesting than it is. No tragic mystery, I'm afraid. Just a guy who spent most of his life moving from place to place and got pretty good at leaving before things got complicated.” His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I'm twenty-nine, by the way, which is apparently old enough to have regrets but young enough for strangers to keep calling me kid.” The smile stayed, but there was something quieter underneath it. “And if I've learned anything, it's that everybody's carrying something. Some people are just better at hiding it under a nice suit.”

He laughed softly at her warning and leaned back against the railing. “Honestly? I think I'm hiding out here for the same reason you are. Too much noise, too many people, not enough air.” His gaze drifted toward the crowd one last time before settling back on her. “Besides, I reckon I've had a better conversation out here than I would've had with half the room inside.” He lifted his glass in a small toast toward her. “To hiding from parties.”

[tennzssee]

tamerlane’s cheeks went proper rosy from the embarrassment, sheer scarlet. even though she was a carroll girl through and through, the family carried that franco-belgian blood, so like it or not, the french was always vividly stitched into her banter. " prestidigitateur is french for magician, you're right " she chuckled, genuinely amused at herself, " désolée for that, absolute shocker. " she buried her face in her hands and nodded, bloody mortified. " yes, i did it, christ. now you must be thinking i’m just some posh little rich girl, but i swear that’s not the whole story, " even if, let's be fair, it was a massive chunk of it. " didn't even realise i was slipping into french, you see. i always resort to it whenever i’m proper nervous or a bit too comfortable, and you’ve got me leaning towards the latter, so it’s half your fault, really, " she rambled, feeling a bit smug as she flicked those pool-blue eyes up to meet his.

she fancied casual things like this, where she didn't have to put on her usual little private theatre or act the part, and he was giving her exactly that. she spun on her heels and took the lead, " grab a bottle of chablis or some proper bubbly, let's celebrate this the right way. " she guided them towards the side of the grand house, away from the crowds where the pressure wasn't such a suffocating paradox. the lass kicked off her heels and chucked them under a bench, finally able to just chill before turning her attention back to the lad, wearing a proper smile this time. " i feel like i haven't introduced myself properly, without all the pompous rubbish this time. i'm tammy, nice to meet you. "

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head as he followed her away from the crowd. “I live on a boat and own approximately three shirts that aren't wrinkled. Anyone compared to me seems posh,” he assured the woman. His smile lingered as he watched her abandon the heels beneath the bench without a second thought. Somehow that felt more telling than any grand introduction could have been. “What? My fault? How is it my fault? Do I make you nervous?”

He accepted the bottle she'd liberated for their escape and lifted it slightly in salute. “Tristan,” he replied, finally offering his hand, though the grin on his face suggested they were well past formalities by now. “Nice to meet you too, properly this time.” Looking out toward the gardens, away from the lights and noise spilling from the house, he felt something settle pleasantly in his chest. “I think we made the right call. Ten more minutes in there and I was either going to fake my own death or start introducing myself as the help.” His eyes drifted back to hers, amused and easy.

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan watched him for a second after that, like he was deciding whether Ryker was actually extending peace or just changing tactics. Then the corner of his mouth tugged upward faintly. “Maybe we did,” he admitted, giving a small shrug with one shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve met somebody by acting like a prick first. It’s a character flaw I’m deeply committed to at this point.”

He took another sip of his drink before glancing back over at him, expression still unsure about the other man. “Twenty-nine,” he answered. “Old enough to know better, young enough to keep doing stupid things anyway.” His eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. “Why? You trying to figure out whether I’m old enough to be held legally responsible for insulting you?”  The smirk that followed made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.

[rykersvoid]

It was Tristan who insulted him first, or he took it that way to say the least. But this was also Gray's nephew. All it was...was Ryker standing his ground. Still taking the insult face to face. I've been called worse, I've been called worse...he thought to himself. "That's one way to put it." He murmured under his breath before taking another swig at his drink.

Ryker snorted quietly at that, leaning back in his chair as he swirled the drink in his hand. “Nah,” he said, a crooked grin at the mouth. “Pretty sure insulting me isn’t actually a crime." Getting a sense of the guy's humor. Tristan wasn't that bad after all. Tolerable with liquor. "Life's too short, I say do the stupid stuff as long as you don't get arrested."

[tristan--kasnoff]

END

[eviescore]

Evie laughed softly under her breath, the sound warm and easy as she slipped into step beside him. ❝ Okay, see, that’s exactly the kind of story I was hoping for. Illegal-adjacent family lore with just enough chaos to make people lean in closer. ❞ She nudged his arm lightly with hers as she started toward the garden doors, champagne glass balanced carelessly in her hand like she didn’t have a single serious thought in the world. ❝ No fucking way! Your uncle already sounds more interesting than at least eighty percent of the people in this room. I just got cornered by a guy explaining why he couldn't choose between his versace watches. I almost drowned myself in my drink. ❞

Outside, the air hit cooler against her skin and she tipped her face toward it for a second, visibly relieved to be away from the noise. Then she glanced over at Tristan with a grin that turned a little mischievous around the edges. ❝ Also, for the record, if we do become someone’s questionable anecdote tomorrow morning, I want it wildly inaccurate. Something dramatic and glamorous. Like we disappeared into the night after stealing a bottle of champagne and exposing someone’s affair by accident. ❞ She looked ahead toward the garden paths before adding lightly, ❝ Feels better than admitting we just got socially tired and escaped rich people talking about square footage. ❞ Her grin was playful as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan laughed, the sound quieter now that the party noise had faded behind them. “See, that's exactly the kind of rumor management I'm talking about. If we're doing this, I want commitment. By tomorrow morning, I want people convinced we escaped on a yacht neither of us owns, carrying stolen champagne and enough secrets to ruin three marriages.” He shoved a hand into his pocket as they wandered down the path, glancing over at her with an amused smile. “Though honestly, accidentally exposing an affair might be less dramatic than whatever's actually happening in there. Anyone who owns multiple Versace watches and discusses them at length is capable of things I don't understand.”

His gaze drifted toward the gardens, taking in the string lights and carefully manicured hedges before settling back on her. “But since you've earned it, here's the short version. My uncle was broke, and apparently convinced he was irresistible. In his defense, most people fall for his charm. The husband came home early. Instead of using the front door like a normal person, my uncle climbed out a second-story apartment window wearing one shoe, landed in a rose bush, and stole a bicycle to get away.” Tristan shook his head fondly. “He always tells the story like he was some tragic romantic hero, but every witness described it as a grown man screaming while tangled in shrubbery.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So that's the family legacy I'm working with. No pressure, but you've already raised the sophistication level considerably.”

[angstfactory]

@tristan--kasnoff

It took a minute, but Grayson finally found where Tristan claimed he would be. "Trist!" he called out, hands open like they were two meeting friends that hadn't seen each other in years, rather than uncle and nephew who'd arrived together just that evening, "fancy seeing you here!" With a hearty clap to his back, Gray claimed the seat next to him and waved to the staffer, asking for a couple of new drinks for them both. "How's the night going? Meet anyone worthwhile yet?"

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan snorted softly at the dramatic entrance, shaking his head as Grayson dropped into the seat beside him. “Subtle as ever,” he muttered, though there was obvious affection underneath it. He accepted the fresh drink once it arrived, turning his attention back to his uncle. “Night’s been surprisingly decent.  Met a few interesting people.  Not sure if anyone is worthwhile yet, but the night is still young.  You uncle?”

[angstfactory]

@tristan--kasnoff

This had been a very long, and eventful, night. A pretty decent one, all things considered. There really wasn't much that Claudio had to complain about— they spent a good majority of their time on the dance floor, either with friends or, surprisingly, the couple of times someone completely unexpected had asked. The fact it happened more than once, unheard of. And the rest of their night, got split between people-watching, downing a good two-and-a-half plates of Birch's fabulous BBQ food, catching up with old friends, and in general wandering the entire grounds of the Hawkins' expensive, extensive, home. All of that, followed up by an after party, spent with Petronella, Knox, and Penny at the work-in-progress treehouse. They had snuck a whole bunch of those freebies out in their big pockets for Penny, as did Petronella.

Now, it was somewhere into the wee hours of morning. Still dark enough to have the street lamps on, yet dawn not too far off, either. Claudio carried the kind of soreness that came from hours of constant music and chatter, and their body that lived in sense which said the second they hit the mattress, they'd be out. They thought they were the only ones out this late, slowly walking their way home, with their jacket off and folded over their arms. Shirt untucked, mildly disheveled in general by now.

But they weren't alone. Another person was coming the opposite direction, and as they got closer, Claudio's face immediately flushed a darker shade. "Tristan.." They hugged their jacket to their chest, weight shifting from one foot to the next, almost nervously. "You're still up?" He was one who chatted them up tonight, impossibly charming, and even asked for a dance before their friends and his uncle had come by to split them off. It had all felt so unreal, maybe a fever dream of some kind. But no, Tristan was here, flesh and blood. "Honestly thought I might have imagined you," they admitted, those few beverages had, making their tongue a little looser, a little more honest. "Thank you," Claude said then, gently, stopping in front of him, "for asking me to dance.. that was.. really nice of you. I had a lot of fun."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan slowed to a stop the second he recognized them, the faint surprise on his face softening almost immediately into something warmer. “Claudio,” he repeated back, quieter somehow than he had been all night. His eyes flicked over the slightly disheveled state of them. “You look like you survived the wedding battlefield better than most.” At their admission, he let out a low laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets against the early morning chill. “Funny. I was starting to think maybe I imagined you too.”

The thank you caught him off guard more than the flirting earlier ever had. Tristan’s expression softened around the edges then, some of the usual charm slipping into something more sincere. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said gently. “I asked because I wanted to dance with you.” His gaze held theirs for a lingering second before drifting toward the quiet street around them. “Honestly, that was probably the best part of the night for me. Which is saying something, considering I got free booze.  Heading home?”

[rykersvoid]

Ryker had unintentionally let out a laugh at the man's response. He was clearly joking about a support group. Not meaning to insult Grayson at that matter, Tristan however was an exception. Ryker was never calm in the storm, guess that's one way of putting it. This was coming to a pointless conversation. Yet, he stayed put.

If there even was a support group he wouldn't go unless they served beer or alcohol. "Clearly, we got off on the wrong foot." Ryker finally said it out loud, he was capable of being civil but Tristan started it by insulting him. His tone was getting slightly warmer and friendly. "How old are you again?..."

[tristan--kasnoff]

Tristan watched him for a second after that, like he was deciding whether Ryker was actually extending peace or just changing tactics. Then the corner of his mouth tugged upward faintly. “Maybe we did,” he admitted, giving a small shrug with one shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve met somebody by acting like a prick first. It’s a character flaw I’m deeply committed to at this point.”

He took another sip of his drink before glancing back over at him, expression still unsure about the other man. “Twenty-nine,” he answered. “Old enough to know better, young enough to keep doing stupid things anyway.” His eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. “Why? You trying to figure out whether I’m old enough to be held legally responsible for insulting you?”  The smirk that followed made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.