middaeg | CLOSED • Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right ...

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CLOSED • Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right ...

Who: Nico, Nero, Kyrie and Hubert
When: Early January
Where: Devil Mary Cry residence
What: Disaster dinner
Warnings: TBA!

( If there's one thing of which Nico is absolutely certain, it's there isn't any harm in extending a dinner invite to a friend. The fact that she and Hubert have recently started kissing shouldn't have a significant impact on that fact; neither of them have pressed for more, and neither of them have pressed to change the status of their relationship, and she likes to think that Nero and Kyrie haven't begun to suspect anything just yet. Why would they? According to them, Nico simply has a friend with whom she likes to practice alchemy, and the fact that they've been seeing a fair bit of each other lately ...

Well. That's neither here nor there. )

Hey, does this cake look right to you?

( ... Unfortunately for Nico, there are some pretty dramatic other tells. For one, she's gone to the effort of baking a rustic-looking coffee cake for the occasion. It's their dessert, yes, but it isn't overly sweet; a marriage of dark, rich flavours and moist sponge with a layer of dark-chocolate ganache between the two rounds. Secondly, she's actually gone and done her hair. Her outfit might be pretty casual but her hair isn't just pulled back in a loose bun; it's grown a lot since they arrived here, and is now styled into a loose side-braid that hangs over her left shoulder. The end is secured with a piece of maroon ribbon that just so happens to match the sheen of lipstick she's wearing — also unusual.

She stands back from her creation, careful to wipe off her hands before placing them on her hips. The centre of the cake is decorated with a small heap of raspberries; Nico can't help but think it needs a little something extra, but the question here is what— )

Huh!

( She snaps her fingers before spinning away from the counter and heading to the front door. There's mint growing outside — wild mint, by the looks of it, since it was there before they moved into the place — and she's certain that a leaf or two would give the cake that all-important finishing touch. When she passes Nero she gives him an affectionate little shove back towards the kitchen: )

Quit standin' around like an idiot and help Kyrie set the table. ( Nico reaches for the front door and yanks it open. ) An' don't think I didn't mean what I said before about not bein' a jerk—

( But she cuts herself off a moment later, because that's definitely Hubert standing outside the front door with his fist raised to knock. Fuck. Fuck! )

Hubert! Shit— u-uh, I mean, come on in!

( Nice job, Nico. Ten out of ten. )

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[Hubert never smiles broadly, but the slight and polite smile also never leaves his face. He inclines his head slightly as Kyrie shakes his hand in greeting.] I look forward to it.

[It's entertaining to watch the three of them interact. The familiarity and ease between Nico and her housemates reminds him warmly of the Black Eagles. Nico's question distracts him from the line of thought, and he meets her warm gaze.]

Whiskey. Lady Edelgard invested in a small business shortly after Dorchacht's liberation, and now that the distillery is established, they send a bottle from every batch. With her departure, I've inherited that investment.

They send far more than I can drink. I thought perhaps the bottle might be enjoyed here rather than gathering dust. There is a point when aging liquor crosses into hoarding.

[ Kyrie is, as expected, perfectly warm and amicable and all the nice things that Nero has come to associate with her. (Which, to be fair, is most nice things in his life but let's not get terribly sappy here. He's got to be grumpy.) Hubert is also obstinately polite of which Nero still does not quite trust on a matter of principle, but also because it does remind him so much of the Order that he grew up in. So easy to have his jimmies rustled and the desire to rustle them back.

Idly he wonders if this is what that great dragon he tried to steal a dagger from felt like--having someone infiltrate your lair.

And then immediately shoves that thought aside. This is not his lair. This is a house he shares with two people he cares about. And he's human! With some extra...things these days. Totally different.

~~It's absolutely his lair.~~

Nero exhales through his nose and forces himself to grab the cutlery and finish setting the table, just to give himself something to do. ]

Lucky you.

[ Wait. ]

Erm...

[ Ahem. ]

Sorry your friend left.

[ Though that is what they eventually want to happen, isn't it? Everyone return home. ]

Nico's being far too kind, but it's a tried and tested recipe so I hope you'll enjoy it.

[It's strange to see Nico acting so giddy around something that isn't mechanical that she's spent hours tinkering over, but there's something rather charming about it too. Kyrie laughs at Nico's self deprecating dig about her lack of cooking skills and gives her friend a gentle push. She's about to argue to the contrary when Nero grumbles his slightly off colour reply.

Oof.]

That's a very generous legacy for her to have left you. Was she a close friend of yours?

[Not that she's digging about possible emotional attachments that may or may not still exist for Nico's state, certainly not. And that would be far too nosy of her, besides.]

( Whiskey, huh? Nico's expression brightens that bit further, clearly somewhat impressed by Edelgard's priorities. Not only do people always want whiskey (making it a sound investment), but receiving a bottle from each batch? That's the kind of perk she can get behind. )

Nice — maybe we could save it for dessert, then?

( She chuckles lightly. )

Not that chicken an' whiskey doesn't sound nice, but it also sounds like a different kinda night.

( She gives Nero a Look when he approaches the table again, a pulse of irritation radiating through their Bond at the fact that he seems to be going into this thinking the worst, but relaxes just a little when he at least attempts to show a little empathy. )

[Hubert was recovering, but the severance of his bond was still fresh enough for the insinuation that he was taking advantage of it stung. Hubert's eyes flick over to the dragon, lingering briefly, before he relaxes and turns his attention to the others.]

[Nico's comments about Nero click into place with his brief interactions and the attempted amends. Brash, gruff, speaking thoughtlessly - he knew the type. ]

Drink it whenever you like. I've no need for it.

[Then, to Kyrie, his voice warming somewhat: ] No friend closer; I've known Her Majesty since before I can remember. She arrived through the mirrors at the same time I did well over a year ago, and we've been Bonded until her departure two months ago. It's the least of the legacies left in her wake.

[ He's trying, Nico. She can probably feel that irritation push back at her almost automatically, as if to say "yeah, what of it?" Maybe Nero would be better off taking a shot of the whiskey before dinner starts if it will smooth out some of his frayed edges.

Kyrie is, unsurprisingly, asking the right questions. As Nero places down the last fork on the table, he has to take a pause and his expression opens up to something close to genuine curiosity rather than the grumpiness he's doing such a good job of portraying. ]

...Your friend was royalty?

[ Of course. ]

[Kyrie's a homebody, she loves the little cottage they all share and the homely touches she's tried to embellish it with since her arrival, and she's proud of her rustic flower arrangement on the table, the plain but practical earthenware crockery and the glassware. She keeps a nice home and doesn't need any pomp and ceremony.

Suddenly, entertaining someone who's grown up around royalty, she's never felt more like a bumpkin in her life.

She tries not to look to stunned by the information and casually wanders over to join Nero at the table, resting her hand on the small of his back as she passes him while surreptitiously checking to see that the main and dessert forks are the right way round; she's certainly thankful her brother drilled that into her at an early age.

...Phew, it all looks to be in good order.]

Goodness, that must be quite the change for you. Does that mean you're aristocracy yourself?

( Nico takes the whiskey and moves it back onto one of the kitchen counters, placing it near the cake before reaching up to rummage through their wine cabinet. )

Yeah, you shoulda seen what a gentleman Mr. Refined was when I asked him to dance at the masquerade.

( When Nico returns it's with a bottle of white whine in one hand and a bottle of red in the other, which she sets on the table just off-centre enough that there'll still be room for the chicken to take pride of place. )

I don't know that I've ever danced with a guy who hasn't immediately tried to grab my ass.

( She laughs lightly. )

Looks like I shoulda been pickin' fancy dance partners this whole time.

[If Hubert were one to roll his eyes, he would've. Instead, he chuckles, turning to Kyrie and her subtle silverware checking.]

She calls me that, but you needn't concern yourself. I am a Marquis, yes, but I've never enjoyed extravagance; it's needless waste.

[ Nero knows how to set a table. He can play for pomp and circumstance if necessary, but that doesn't mean he wants to. Thankfully Credo is one of the few people who managed to earn a modicum of respect, so...

Yeah. He can put all the ridiculous amount of forks in the right order. It makes Kyrie happy and that's what matters, even if he's content to use the same fork for everything.

Surely this guy can appreciate the effort that she puts forth on this sort of thing. Right? He better. He absolutely better.

But not too much appreciation on any front. He's keeping that in mind. ]

Yeah, it shows.

[ That was sarcasm. Someone feel free to stomp on his foot. ]

[Kyrie's not really one for foot stomping, but she's close enough her boyfriend to give him a sharp glance and a mildly disapproving look that hopefully goes unnoticed by Nico and her guest.

She asked you to be nice, Nero.]

Oh I don't know, I think it's nice to be a little extravagant sometimes, as long as it's not too much. It's fun for special occasions.

[In an attempt to avoid any further sourness she turns her attention to the wine Nico's brought through.]

Would anybody like a drink now?

( Kyrie's look doesn't go unnoticed by Nico, but fortunately she's actually pretty pleased by the fact that she isn't going to let Nero get away with his poor attitude. More than anything she just wants this evening to be a good time for all of them: heck, the three of them could use it, and Hubert deserves a few hours away from his work and his memories of his departed Bonded. )

Yeah, I'll take a drink. White wine with chicken, right?

( Instead of leaving it to Kyrie to pour, Nico reaches for the bottle of white and uncorks it with a twist of her wrist. )

Anyone else? Or there's red— ( She gestures to the second bottle. ) if you like.

Hubert? Guests first, an' all that.

[Why, it's almost like Nero never spoke at all. For as utterly unbothered as Hubert looked, the pissy dragon might've even said something amicable.]

[Coming from two different worlds made it difficult to judge hosting and dining traditions, but given how casual of an individual Nico was, Hubert doubted he'd be breaking any great rule but selecting a seat.]

The red, please, if it isn't too much trouble. My thanks, Nico.

[A glance.] What of you, Kyrie? I understand these two are devil hunters—do you have any hand in that sort of business?

[ The look from Kyrie is extremely effective. While he generally doesn't give half a rat's ass how his attitude affects most people, her approval or disapproval is akin to divine intervention. It's enough for Nero to shut his trap for a minute or two and at least fetch bottle of both red and white wine for the girls to do with what they deem necessary.

He set the table with wine glasses at least--he does know how to properly throw a dinner party. (And by that we mean Kyrie does, he just knows how to set the table.) ]

May I have some white too please Nico? Thank you.

[Oh but Hubert's asked a question and it's a fair assumption to make that she'd be involved in the business but she still laughs softly at the thought of it. She'd make an utterly useless devil hunter. Maybe she'd be a bit better now she has some spells under her belt, but she suspects she'd be kind of useless.

Anyway, there aren't many people who can keep up with Nero - ~~the less said about family matters the better~~]

I'm just here for moral support I'm afraid, I'm not any kind of talented weapons' artist or incredible swordsman like these two. I just make sure home's waiting for them when they get back safely and take care of the children, that's my way of helping with the cause.

[...she really has to stop referring to that in present tense.]

In Fortuna, anyway.

And what about you?

( Red for Hubert, white for Kyrie. Nico pours them their drinks before leaving Nero to choose his own; he didn't say anything, therefore she's going to assume he has something in mind for himself. )

Yeah, Kyrie's always nice enough to let me stay with them after a job. My apartment's nowhere near as homey as their place.

( Which is true enough: Nico isn't much of a home-maker, and she can get a little chaotic when it comes to her living space. In her defence, there's definitely some kind of method to the madness, it's just not the kind of method that can be understood by many people besides her. )

It's better than the van though. Don't get me wrong, I love that van, but it can get kinda ...

( Have a little grimace. )

Cramped.

( ... With trash, spare parts, and stuff they pick up long the way. )

[Van? What even was a van? ...Caravan? Hubert accepts his glass with a nod, mentally shelving the van for a later time.]

I am advisor, retainer, and Minister of the Imperial Household to Emperor Edelgard. Simply put, an administrator, as the responsibility of all the palace's functions fall to me.

[...which also included matters like security, intelligence, and, you know, the dungeons, but even if these three would never see Fódlan, Hubert wasn't going to go flaunting what was supposed to be rumor.]

Children? [He leaves the question and the subtle tilt of his head vague to avoid the pitfall of assuming whose children those were.]

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CLOSED • Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right ...

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