[closed] SAY IT AIN'T SO, I WILL NOT GO

[manlet]

Who: Andersen, Trevor, and Dantes
When: Noveur 8th, after Louis's masquerade
Where: The abandoned theater Andersen and Dantes live in.
What: Two drunks make asses of themselves. A demon of vengeance being hassled to take care of them.
Warnings: Drunken tomfoolery.

[Moonlight, not a sound from the pavement. The masquerade has at last come to its end. The guests are beginning to disperse, lit by the glow of their bejeweled gifts and their high spirits. After the revelry comes the exhausted but content quiet falls over the city of Aefenglom and all is peaceful--

STOMP STOMP STOMP.

--except, it seems, a certain theater seems to still house some rowdy ruffians. One of those ruffians is Andersen, who's leaping and jumping with the energy of an oversized, off-rhythm flea, coattails flying. It's clear that he's drunk, by his boisterous singing and unsteady swaying:]

Bring us in good ale, bring us in good ale...!

[Who in the world would encourage such rude behavior????]

Comments

[quickwhip]

[ It's a great fucking time is what it is???

Trevor's had way more to drink that he should have but like hell any of that matters when he and his little friend here are having such a good time in... wherever the hell they are. A theater?? How did they even end up here?? Doesn't matter because Trevor is decked out in his masquerade attire still and has even thrown on a vibrant coloured boa around his neck as well as a fancy shmancy hat with a feather stuck in it in a bright sort of purple colour. Fancy pirate?? Fancy pirate it is. Or something.

Either way, he's sitting there on the edge of the stage, swaying back and forth to whatever the hell Anderson is singing while taking a swig from a bottle of ale that he's taken for himself. ]

More good ale!

[ He shouts that with his arm thrown up and spills some of that "good ale" across the stage as he falls back against it, bottle held out for Anderson to take if he wants. ]

Look. I found some. Take it. Take it before it's gone.

[ressusciter]

[coming back from the masquerade, he couldn't find Andersen, and figured he'd be there when he was. the other Servant must have lost his head, or dipped out early - either way, Dantes has had enough of the celebrations, and quietly slips out toward home. it's a relief to see the theater, to slip in and pull off the mask, safe and secure behind the door.

or not, as that obnoxious singing proves. he knows Andersen's voice, but not the second, and the stomping and discordance is enough to rake across his senses like a set of nails.

he moves noiselessly, until he's there, parting the curtains and looming above them both for the moment like an unamused lord, still in the outfit his Bonded made him wear.]

If you wished to be the drunken fool, you were more than welcome to remain at the party, you know.

[his words are dark and frosty, quickly sizing up the stranger there. who the hell was this? who was Andersen pulling back home with him?]

[manlet]

[Holy shit, Trevor. You are so on his wavelength right now. Andersen turns on his heel, wobbles, but reaches for the bottle with a big grin.]

You're spilling it all over the place! You're wasting all of it, you drunken lout!

[Says the buffoon who's being extremely drunk right now. It's at this moment that his Bonded so happens to appear. Dantes's presence is a snowstorm personified - freezing and vicious - but Andersen simply shrugs it off. He beams at the other man and throws out an arm. More alcohol spills.]

Aha, there he is! Trevor, look closely. Behold, the rarest of sights! The true face of my Bonded, a man whose glare rivals that of the gorgon!

[quickwhip]

[ Well that's a voice he's never heard before?? At least he's pretty sure he hasn't. Not Anderson. This... sourpuss looking man here. He'd swear this were Alucard from party pooper expression alone. ]

Hello.

[ And, after a rather long pause and still just laying there on the floor. ]

You a vampire? Cause you... remind me of one I know. Half-vampire... sourpuss.

[ressusciter]

[no, this isn't a voice he's heard before, unless he makes a habit of listening out for new voices and particularly ones with careful diction and a French accent.]

There was a rumor that I was, once upon a time. But no, I am not.

[looking between the two of them, his next words are to Andersen.]

You're the one cleaning the stage tomorrow.

[since he cannot force this stranger into that service, lacking the power to persuade him.]

[manlet]

[Andersen laughs and sits right next to Trevor, unfazed by the threat.]

See what I mean? He's got a stick up his ass. Come sit down and drink with us, monsieur!

[quickwhip]

[ A rumor? Well, he can't really go basing much on a rumor, can he? That's how people get wrongly accused and murdered after all. But still. Sure looks like a sourpuss.

Anderson, on the other hand, Trevor just nods to before he lolls his head to look back to Dantes. ]

That must hurt. You should... probably pull that out. You know, before you sit down here. It'll just get worse otherwise.

[ The stick up his ass, that is. ]

[ressusciter]

Give me one good reason to sit and drink with you when I just came back from that event.

[no, go on. convince him, and maybe he'll forgive the comments about what's up his ass.]

[manlet]

[Trevor's comment earns an audible snicker from Andersen, who's as giddy as a schoolgirl. He spreads out his arms as if in invitation.]

You enjoy my company. And you'll enjoy Trevor's. I guarantee it! In any case, you must socialize. You're becoming a gaudy, overdressed, gloomy mushroom.