Dearest friend,
It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other. I’m headed to Scotland for the winter break, but I wanted to have a chance to catch up before I leave. I’m holding a dinner party on the 22nd at 7:30, just you and a few other close friends. I hope you’ll be able to come – it should be epic! I’ve a few people I’ve wanted to introduce you to anyway.
Hope to see you there!
Sincerely,
Nicholas
With a frustrated huff, Severa stepped up the short set of stone steps that led to the door of her friend’s home. She raised a hand up to the door and gave two loud knocks. Tapping her foot impatiently, the redhead crossed her arms and awaited her friend’s greeting.
Nicholas opened the door. “Severa, I’m so pleased you could come! Welcome.” He stepped back and waved her in. “Everyone’s in the living room – you know where it is.”
“Wouldn’t kill you to be polite and show the way, but fine.” The redhead muttered, stepping through the doorway, making sure to give Nick a prolonged eye roll as she moved past him and into the living room. She entered relatively silently and skunk past the small crowd to search for a drink.
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-97 with Mick]
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-136 with Paul]
Mick hops out of his beaten up old car and approaches the door. He adjusts his hat, straightens his tie, then raps on the door impatiently, hoping for an answer.
“Mick!” Nicholas says as soon as he opens the door. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” He glances past his friend at the car in which he’d arrived and adds dryly, “For a number of different reasons.”
Stepping back, he tilts his head in the direction of the living room. “You know where to go.”
Mick gives a slight nod, and gives Nicholas a friendly clap on the shoulder.
“You mind if I smoke in here?” He asks, already lighting a cigarette.
“Even if he said he doesn’t mind, i still do. Put that stupid thing away.” Severa muttered, stepping out into Mick’s line of sight and giving him a harsh glare. Perhaps if she wasn’t trying to be a good houseguest, she wouldn’t knocked the cigarette out of his hand instead.
Mick gave the woman a shrug and took a long drag off the cigarette.
“Who pissed in *your* corn flakes?”
He exhaled and turned his head to blow all the remaining smoke over his shoulder.
Plainly not aware of what he meant by ‘corn flakes’, the mercenary raised an eyebrow to Mick before shaking her head dismissively. “Maybe you should go ahead and learn some real English before getting so damned defensive.”
Mick knit his brows, mouth agape.
“I… What? And what the hell’s your problem? First you glare at me like I killed your entire damned family, then you act like *I’m* in the wrong?”
Mick adjusted his tie, cigarette carefully cradled between his middle and ring finger.
He always adjusted his tie when he got frustrated.
Severa flinched at the mention of her long since deceased family. She hesitated for a moment before taking a single step towards him. “Don’t bring them into this, or I’ll break that pretty little jawline of yours.” She threatened, balling her hands into fists.
Mick smirked at the fiery girl.
“You sure you want to hit a cop?” He asked, pulling out a police badge with the name ‘Friseal O’Farrell’ printed on it.
Oregano stuck his head around the door frame: “I heard another officer in distress. Please calm down, both of you. Do you need any backup?”
Severa gulped in shock as she glanced between the two cops, her gaze shifting from the badge to the other new aquaintance. “Gawds.. you’ve got to be kidding me.. ugh! This is the worst!” The redhead stomped a foot against the ground and turned promptly away from Mick and Oregano to sulk in frustration as her lips bent into a wide frown.
Mick turned to Oregano, while flicking ashes from his cigarette into a nearby urn.
“Thanks for the assist, officer, but I’m pretty sure I had the situation under control. Boston PD trained me well.”
Oregano nodded and gave a small salute.
“Glad to hear it. Thank you for staying calm.”
When he pulled himself back behind the door frame he was proud of the representation of the force at the party, and completely confident that the tension of the situation had been diffused.
Mick adjusted his best button down shirt, the dress for this dinner party wasn’t stated in the invitation so he wanted to be safely in between. He knocked on the front door, and waited for Nicholas to open it.
Nicholas pulled the door open almost immediately, having seen Mick arrive. “Nice shirt,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Nicholas’ unbuttoned sports coat revealed a t-shirt that read “Dear Santa, define ‘good.'” Stepping back, he motioned Mick forward. “You’re the third to arrive; the others are in the living room. Go ahead and introduce yourself. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-118 ]
Chaley hopped off the bus and headed up the long driveway to Nicholas’ house. “Nice,” she murmured to herself, though she wasn’t able to avoid glancing warily at the forest that bounded one edge of the property.
Taking the steps two at a time, she knocked firmly on the door.
It took a moment for Nicholas to answer the door this time, and a dish towel was thrown over his shoulder when he did. “Chaley!” he exclaimed. “I honestly didn’t think you’d get the invitation.”
Chaley’s expression was clearly trying to be a smile, and she hoped that Nicholas wouldn’t push too far. “I was back in town,” she replied vaguely, “and happy to hear from you.” Tucking her blond hair behind one ear, she asked, “Will anyone I know be at the party?”
Nicholas shrugged as he motioned for Chaley to come in. “Not sure,” he admitted. “Do you know Mick?” He hesitated, then added with a grin, “Either of them?”
Chaley slipped past Nicholas and waited for him to shut the door. A slight frown on her face, she thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. There wasn’t a Mick at school that I remember and ….” She trailed off for a moment, then quickly continued, “And I don’t remember a Mick from work or anywhere else.”
Hoping Nicholas hadn’t noticed the hesitation, Chaley shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”
Nicholas noticed the pause, but Chaley so clearly didn’t want him to pursue it that he chose to follow her new topic of conversation. “Thanks – I love cooking, but I don’t often get the chance to do it. I figured this would be a good opportunity.”
Just then, a timer went off in the kitchen. “Shoot, I have to deal with that.” Nicholas gave Chaley a little push towards the living room. “Go on and introduce yourself – they’re all lovely people. I’ll be in shortly.”
Chaley smiled uncertainly and took a step in the direction of the living room. After Nicholas returned to the kitchen, she stopped and took a deep breath. Just because the most recent people – and she used the term lightly – she’d met had been somewhat homicidal, definitely amoral Sidhe didn’t mean that everyone she would ever meet would be as … unfriendly. She could do this.
One more deep breath, and Chaley moved forward into the living room, faking the confidence that had once come naturally to her.
Will hurried up the steps, checking the time on his watch. He was early. Good, Will was always early. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door, nervously. It had been awhile since he’d seen Nicholas, and he wasn’t sure if he had changed or not.
Nicholas was just shrugging into his sports coat when someone knocked on the door. Glancing at the clock – no, he wasn’t late, it was still before 7:30 – he smiled to himself. “Hello Will,” he murmured as he ran down the stairs to the front door.
Opening the door, he repeated more loudly, “Hello Will! Glad you could make it. You’re the first one here, of course. I was just about to set out snacks and drinks for everyone while I finished cooking the meal.” He tilted his head, sizing up his friend. “Would you like to help, or would you rather wait in the living room for the others to arrive?”
“I can set out the snacks if you’d like? I’m not the best at, well, cooking things.” Will chuckled nervously. He was quite excited to meet new people at this party, and didn’t want to ruin Nicholas’s party by accidentally starting a fire. Again. It was best if he stayed away from heat sources.
Nicholas handed him a couple of bowls of chips. “That would be wonderful – I’d appreciate the help. I still have a ton of cooking to do.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-122 ]
Oregano looks in the window beside the door to make sure he’s in the right place, then knocks on the door and steps back. He clasps his hands behind his back and then in front of himself before finally crossing his arms and rocking back on his heels.
Nicholas catches the faint sound as he’s putting the rice in the oven and detours to open the door. “Oregano, I’m so glad you came,” he says warmly. “I hope things have been well with you.”
Although Nicholas doesn’t want to do anything to make the man more anxious, he really has to return to the kitchen. “You remember where the living room is? Everyone’s in there – though everyone isn’t too many people quite yet. Go ahead in. I’ll be there in a moment.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-118 ]
Olivia hops out of her car, dragging a container with her. She knocks on the door, impatiently waiting for somebody to answer.
“Olivia!” Nicholas exclaims as he opens the door. His eyes flicker to the container in her hands, then back up. “So glad to see you.” He hesitates, then adds, “Everyone’s in the living room at the moment. I’m just finishing preparing the meal.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-125 ]
Enrique slowly shuffles up to the front door, eyeing it anxiously. Kristen told him it’d be a good idea for him to visit some friends of hers, maybe even make some friends himself at this party.
He goes up onto his tiptoes, peaking through the window. It’s filled with adults, and people far older than his seven year old age. The last thing he wants is to sit on a coach listening to boring grown-up chatter all night. As he rang the door bell, he hopes there’s someone with children or someone who will want to play with him.
The bell rings just as Nicholas is finishing putting the crust on the pie. He presses the last part of the edge together and puts it aside. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he heads to the door.
It’s Enrique. Nicholas catches himself glancing around for Kristen before he remembered their conversation earlier. He crouches down. “Hi Enrique, it’s good to see you again. It’s been a while. Kristen told me you would be joining us alone tonight, so I invited a friend of mine that I think you’ll get along with. C’mon – I’ll introduce you.”
Olivia sighs as she puts the container down on the living room counter. She begins to tie her purple hair up when Nicholas comes up to her, dragging a timid looking kid along with him.
“Am I missing something here?” Olivia asked, staring at the child.
Enrique frowned up at the older woman, curious but wary. Tugging on Nicholas’s trousers and whispered a little louder than intended, “Does she have a kid?”
He craned his neck around the lady’s, hoping to see a little girl or boy. Who’s he going to play with now? The lady?
Olivia overheard the kid ask if she had a kid, and she laughed a little bit. “No chance in hell will I ever have a kid. I’m not fit for one, that’s for sure.”
She opened up the container she brought in, taking out one of the multiple harddrives within it. “You want a harddrive, kid?” She asked, smiling cockily.
The little boy took the hard driver from the lady, examined it closely and then beamed up at her. A present! He’s never had a present before. “Gracias, dama! What is it do?”
“It holds information, my friend. Computer stuff.” She replied.
She waved dismissively at Nicholas. “I’m good with the kid, Nicholas. I’m no axe murderer!” She laughed, taking out a small container of hashbrowns in her jacket and starting to eat them.
As Enrique watched Nicholas exit the room, the heavenly smell of cooked potatoes brought his attention back to the lady. Sniffing, he tugged on her coat and said with big eyes, “Can I have some, dama?”
“You’d like my Papi.” He said, plopping himself onto the couch next to the lady. “He was a car once. You know, like transformers. Do you like cars? I like cars. And you know what?”
“What is it, kid? I mean, you’re alright, but man you talk a lot.” She said sparingly. She brought her holopad out of her bag and started mindlessly working on a project.
“I’m sure there’s some other food you’d like better on the table somewhere. Trust me, you don’t want these. But I mean, knock yourself out if you want to try them.” She said, offering the kid a piece of her hashbrowns. She ate a couple more. “They’re spicy,” She stated dryly, wanting nothing more than to slip in to speaking French like her girlfriend had taught her.
Enrique nibbled on the hash browns, grimacing at the spiciness of the food, but he ate it anyway. “You know what, dama?” he said as he finished off the bit of hash browns.
Olivia sighed, winding her hands together around the ring she had on. “What?” she asked in her fluent French.
Enrique tugged on her sleeve again to regain her attention, looking at the woman with big brown eyes. “Do you have any kids? I want to play something. What’s your name?”
“Olivia,” she said, barely sparing a glance to the kid. She was too busy trying to hack in to the firewalls at Nicholas’ house.
She returned to speaking in French. “No kids. I’m not fit for them. Thought I said that already.”
Sidling closer, Enrique looked over at the halopad and saw the pretty flashing lights. “Can I play too? I’m extra good! Kristen bought me a game-boy for Christmas.”
Olivia scowled, frustrated. “Listen, kid.” she said in Spanish. “This is not a game. What I’m doing can change the fate of the world. No, you can’t play.”
She saved her work quickly, before shutting off her holopad so the kid couldn’t grab it. “I don’t know you, but I smell food, so I’m going there.”
“I’ll go too!” Enrique agreed excitedly. Without waiting for a response, he took her hand in his tiny one and towed Olivia to the dining room.
Olivia sighed, taking her hand away from the kid and pulling a dictionary out of her coat. “Here,” she said. “This might help you.” she stated, before swiftly walking in to the kitchen and away from the boy.
Enrique frowned at the voluminous book in his hands. He couldn’t read the title. “Olivia, wait! I can’t read!” He started running after her. He tripped over his feet, and tumbled forward, smashing his elbow on the hard floor. Tears sprung into his eyes, and he sniffed back tears. “Olivia,” he said in a strained voice from the pain. “What’s this book? I don’t understand it.”
“A dictionary. It has words and definitions. Learn them.” Olivia said. Pouring herself a glass of water and sipping on it. “I’m sitting down, please don’t follow me.” she stated coldly, sitting down at the table beside some person she didn’t know.
Enrique looked at the dictionary, and then glared at Olivia, muttering haughtily, “I will learn the dictionary.” The little boy stomped over to the kitchen and gorged himself on the food as he waited to Kristen to come pick him up.
This isn’t a good party, he thought. One thing was for sure, her friend Nicholas sure isn’t good at finding him friends to play with.
Well, at least he got an English dictionary. During his tutoring session with Adam tomorrow, he’ll help him learn to read it.
Legolas jumps off his horse and drops onto the ground. His light shoes do not make any imprints in the snow. Smiling, he strides towards the front of the house, bow and arrow slung on his back as always, and tentatively knocks on the door.
Nicholas is just returning from taking some food to the living room (and chatting with some of his friends at the same time) when he hears the light knock. Detouring to the front door, he opens it. His smile is genuine as he sees the elf.
“Legolas, I wasn’t sure you were going to be able to make it,” he says warmly. “I’m so glad you could.” He hesitates, then adds, “You might want to stay away from Chaley for a bit – blond hair, blue jean… pants, black tunic, about eighteen. She’s had some … difficult experiences with the Sidhe lately, and I’m not sure she’ll be able to differentiate between you and them at the moment.”
“Yes, yes, I will be careful around her, though I hope that Chaley will know soon that we Woodelves do not harm others unless harm befalls us first,” Legolas says. “I must say that I am glad to see you Nicholas, ‘the King of the North.’ It is not easy to get here from Mirkwood.” Smiling, he goes in and enters the living room. There he sees a half giant with very messy hair sitting in a couch, alone in the corner. Having no other company for now, he makes his way to him and gives him smile. “Greetings,” Legolas says.
“Oh! Hello!” Hagrid blusters, returning from a daydream. “Name’s Hagrid, nice to meet you!” He smiles gently at the pristine elf, his cheeks growing bright red. “Hey, do you wanna see something cool?”
“Yes, I would be delighted.”
“Come closer,” He whispers, gesturing towards him. Slowly, he pulls a large, oval object from his tattered brown robes. It shimmers like an opal in the sun. “This is a dragon egg! Gorgeous, ain’t it?”
Legolas looks at the dragon egg and his naturally pale face becomes even paler. “My friend, where in the world have you acquired that egg??!” He nearly yells. “Have you never heard of the desolation of Smaug? This egg you hold in your cloak could be very dangerous, we must get rid of it at once.”
Hagrid draws the egg closer to him instinctively and caresses it gently with his large hands. “No, definitely not! He’s going to be a sweetheart. Although if it eases your worries, he isn’t due to hatch for another week.” As he finishes his sentence, a middle-aged woman appears out nowhere, pushes Legolas aside, and collapses onto his lap.
Susan made her way through the house, looking distastefully at the younger crowd. Taking a quick swing of her flask, her heeled feet tripped and managed to fall on a large man. Looking up, she blinked at the image of her dream man.
“Oh… hello there, handsome!” She purred.
Hagrid’s face grew red as he stared at the middle-aged woman in front of her. This woman looked positively like a pumpkin in a black dress. Hagrid awkwardly he contemplated how he should respond and looked to his new friend for help. Seeing this, Legolas spoke.
“Madame, why don’t we properly introduce ourselves first, as is customary among the Silvan elves?”
Susan looked confused at the so called “Silvan Elf”, feeling wary at the sight of his bow and arrows. Was she that drunk, imagining all this? Might as well play along. She let out an alcohol filled breath. “I’m Susan Shears. I’m here at this party as an excuse to drink. Hah, you look like you’re going to a costume party!” She giggled, half slurring her words.
Hagrid opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, as if he is a fish gulping at air. He doesn’t have a chance to piece together syllables before Susan’s body suddenly goes limp. “Oh! She’s passed out already! Poor girl!” Hagrid finds it easier to speak now that the woman can’t hear. He grabs her waist, respectfully, and places he gently on the other end of the couch. She looks as if she’s simply napping. He looks to Legolas. “Maybe we should take her outside for air?”
“We should,” Replied Legolas, looking at the woman with one eyebrow lifted. He takes her by the feet. “Help me lift her,” He says, and Hagrid takes her arms. In this manner, they carry her outside and they sit down in the snow. Legolas is bored, so he breathes in deeply and starts singing.
“To the sky! To the sky! The white flakes are crying
The wind is blowing
And the snow is flying
West west away, the fluffy clouds are dawning
Oh wild woman in dreamless sleep…”
Susan woke up, stumbling to her feet. “What’s the meaning of this…. hic!” Oh no the hiccups were starting. When she got drunk it was hard to keep them down. She needs another drink!
“My goodness woman, sit down!” Hagrid manages to speak. He gently coaxes Susan to sit down beside him on the snow-covered porch. “His singing is beautiful, ain’t it?” Hagrid says in admiration. Susan stops her drunk ramblings to listen to the elf’s voice. He’s framed in white, his silver blonde hair catching millions of dazzling snowflakes.
He sings the night away as Susan and Hagrid share a glowing smile.
Simon stands in front of the door, double checks the watch on his left hand. He hesitates for a little while, then he takes a deep breathe. With stepping forwards, he reaches out one hand and presses the button of the bell on a door.
Hearing the doorbell, Nicholas reaches out to flick off the burner and move the roux off the heat while he goes to see who has arrived.
“Simon, welcome!” he exclaims upon opening the door. “I’m so glad to see you.” He glances over his shoulder towards the kitchen, then adds, “I’m so sorry – I’m right in the middle of an important part of cooking, but the living room is down the hallway that way,” and he points to his right, Simon’s left, “and a bunch of people have arrived. If you don’t see anyone you know, search out Chaley – long blond hair, wearing jeans and a black tunic. She’s pretty outgoing.”
“Okay, I’ve got it.” Simon smiles at his friend, and adds, “It’s been a long time to see you, my friend… I am so appreciated for you to invite me. Thanks.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-135 ]
Jen saw the crowd of people at the doorway and decided it wasn’t worth the hastle. She walked to the back of the house and found a back door. Slipping in quietly, Jen made her way to the living room. “Time to be social, I guess…” she muttered to herself.
Nicholas heard the back door open as he greeted Enrique at the front. As he crouched down to talk to the young boy, he caught a flash of Jen’s hair and smiled to himself. He knew she wasn’t wild about events like this, and it meant a lot to him that she was willing to come because he’d invited her.
Jen shuffled into the living room. Already she hated it. Even though she was friends with Nicholas, Jen had know idea who anyone else was.
Standing awkwardly in the corner, Jen shuffled her feet while avoiding eye contact.
Will was standing in the corner of the room, glancing between people in different conversations. He’d been there for a while, since very early in fact, and wasn’t inclined to talk to anyone. Glancing to the back of the room Will noticed a girl, whom he hadn’t noticed before. He smiled, as she seemed to want to run away.
Will walked over and shoved his hands in his pockets, grinning at the girl in front of him. “Hey, I’m Will. I haven’t seen you before, what’s your name?”
Jen jumped at the sudden conversation opened up to her. Although she would gladly run away, Jen had promised Nicholas to be friendly. The guy seemed nice enough.
“Oh hiya, I’m Jen. Can we make this conversation quick? I’m trying to get out as soon as possible.”
She winced immediately, only people in the institute would be that forward. Jen had to remember that these were (mostly) regular people.
Will chuckled quietly. In his head he was screaming at himself, the other half telling him to burn this girl- Jen, as he now knew- and run out of this place. He pushed the thoughts aside and leaned against the wall.
“Quick conversations aren’t as fun though! I can’t get to know you if you leave after a few sentences.”
Normally Will wasn’t this forward with people he didn’t know, but he supposed he owed it to Nicholas for arriving so early. He was trying to be social, he just wasn’t good at it.
As soon as this Will guy opened his mouth, Jen sensed a change. Well maybe not a change perhaps, but something violent that put her on edge. Lord knows, nothing good happens when Jen was on edge. Still, she went along with his words.
“Fine, Will. Conversation 101, start with filler questions. So…” Her mind flashed to Jake back ‘home’ “… got any siblings?”
A safe question, bringing up her twin would hopefully calm her down.
Will breath caught in his throat. She couldn’t know about him… could she?
“Yes, he’s younger than me.” Will scratched his arm nervously. “He’s a little, well, insane.”
Oh well, this was getting interesting. Jen realized that her and Will might have more in common than she first thought.
“Same here. Big brother Jake has a few screws loose but I love him all the same. In fact, everybody I know is kinda crazy.”
Jen took a bold leap and let her eyes flash violently. She continued further with a feral grin. It would be fun to see him freak.
Will frowned and slammed the window shut behind Jen. Some guy was singing a weird tune and Will didn’t need to hear it. He was getting angry and knew it was because of his other half.
“I wouldn’t keep that grin on your face if I were you. People can burn fairly easily you know.” He smirked and leaned back, feeling his arms heat up.
Jen knew this would only end badly if she gave into the anger that had formed at Will’s words. Straightening her spine and taking a page out of North’s book (her friend), she let herself fill with indifference. It was difficult but Jen wouldn’t disappoint Nicholas. She couldn’t afford to lose another friend.
“Whatever you’re threatening, darling, trust me I’ve seen worse. I’ve handled worse. This party though will not make me snap and it shouldn’t for you. Calm down and let’s get some food. We both need the distraction.”
Jen didn’t look to see if Will followed, she had to get out fast for both their sakes. She hoped Will would follow her though, Jen knew from experience the depression after losing control. So, she headed to dinner with her head held high.
Brinley could hear the soft sound of music from a block away. She pulls up to the nicely lit house and she instantly feels at home. She gets out of her car, straightenes our her favourite party dress and walks up to the door. Nerves suddenly come over her body as she slowly reaches for the doorbell. “Ding,” it goes.
Nicholas opens the door almost immediately, having just let someone in. “Brinley, hi – welcome!” He smiles at her and steps back, pulling the door open. “Everyone’s in the living room – as you can no doubt hear.” The soft murmur of conversation comes from Brinley’s left. “Go ahead in – I’ve just got some things to finish in the kitchen.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-123 ]
Hagrid clunks up that pebbled path to his old friend Nicholas’ house. He nervously fiddles his hands in front of him as he stumbles up the porch steps. Before knocking, he anxiously tries to fix his beard in the reflection of the window. Unfortuneatly, it cannot be tamed. Taking a deep breath, he knocks.
Nicholas opens the door and is greeted by Hagrid’s belt. Looking up (and up, and up), he smiles at his friend. “Hi Hagrid,” he greets him. “Sorry about the doorway” – it’s much shorter than Hagrid – “but the living room, where everyone is hanging out, has a vaulted ceiling. Go on in – I’m just cooking dinner.”
“Thank you so much, Nicholas!” He says warmly as he ducks through the doorway. He wanders to the living room, forgetting to wipe his filthy shoes on the map. Once he steps into the room he is hit with a wall of anxiety – so many people! He didn’t think he was late. Unsure where to go, he finds an empty couch in the corner of the room and plops down.
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-120 ]
Sirus scampered up to the front door, and rapped three times on the wood. He counted five seconds in his head before growing impatient and magically unlocking the door. He stepped into the foyer, tapping his shoes clean on the welcome mat.
Nicholas arrived just in time to see Sirus wiping his shoes on the entrance way. He rolled his eyes. “No, no, please come in,” he said wryly, then grinned. “Everyone’s in the living room, along with some food and drink. I’m sure you can find your way?”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-158 ]
Buffy picked up the invitation from a puddle on the ground. Nicholas. She knew he could only be up to no good. She was lucky that the address to his house was nearby, and she quickly located the nearest window, to enter the party incognito. She hoisted herself in through the window and peered in. It seems empty. She was broken from her thoughts as an owl in a tree nearby made a noise and startled her. Buffy toppled over in through the open window.
As he was talking to Sirus in the front hall, Nicholas heard a faint noise from one of the back rooms. When he went to check however, the room was empty.
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-102 ]
Crowley popped into the house, his two servants beside him. He was in a drab room with cloudy grey walls, that sulked and peeled at the edges. Mismatched picture frames hung empty from the wall. A window was open to the left of a mahogany desk with a black leather chair. He decided to help himself to some rum and shuffled through the desk drawers.
As he returned from checking out a sound in the back room, Nicholas walked straight past his study, not noticing the new guests that had arrived so unconventionally.
Buffy regained her footing and turned to analyze the surroundings of the room. She looked around the dimly lit room and spotted the door. She turned to leave the room and explore the house, but as she was about to open the door, she heard a voice from behind her.
“Hello darling” Crowleys voice boomed through what he had thought to be an empty room. She turned to him, dressed in tacky 90s clothes, people these days are so ugh, he thought of his life honest lefe back in the 1600s, and his mother. He cheered his glass to her. Noticing a glint of silver at her side, a stake. Now he was curious.
She turned around to face him, straightening her stray hairs and instinctively resting a hand on her stake, just in case she needed it. She took a step back, bumping into the wall, and pulled the stake out towards him.
“Who are you?” She asked confidently
“I bet you want to know,” he placed his glass on a coaster, wood is delicate. “Darling, I’m your king, and these are dispensable.” He gestured to the men now standing closer to him.
“My king? I don’t think you realize who youre talking to buddy”
Buffy took out his bodyguards first, jumping up and kicking one in the neck, and flipping the second one on his back. She turned to look at Crowley. He seemed entirely unphased.
Crowley laughed and snapped his fingers. Eight men were now in the room, towering over her. Standing, waiting. Crowley snapped his fingers again and the smallest man grabbed her neck and threw her into the wall, denting it. The guard then used his elbow to hold her throat against the wall chocking her, he held his silver angel blade against her throat, the tip just about to Pierce her neck. “Yes I’m the king. The king of hell. Need I say more? That blade could have you dead with one stab.
“What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?” Buffy questioned. She peered at Crowley anxiously, he didn’t seem to know she was the slayer. He didn’t seem to know of her at all.
“Hello Darling, who are you? You almost hurt one of my demons.” He stood leaning against the desk, tapping his foot. He wondered what Satan would think of all this. Where was he anyways? How many people are at this hoedown?
“I’m Buffy Summers. The slayer.” She said, as the knife eased up on her throat.
“Interesting…. well “Buffy”” he finger quoted her name, what kind of a name was that? “I must be going, you see, just got a text from moose, an dI have to get there pronto, farewell.” With that Crowley was gone leaving his body guards to awkwardly climb out the window And leave, the one with the knife at her throat going last. And then Buffy was alone in the room, a bottle of rum popped open, and a smashed glass on the floor.
Donald Draper rolls up to Nicholas’s comfortable looking home in a cab. His eyes are strained by the array of blinking christmas decorations before his eyes, before going in he lights a cigarette. He brought his co-worker and partner Joan with him as a date, he is in the middle of a divorce so it was just as friends, they both light a cigarette and walk up to the door, joan slips on some ice but Don catches her, luckily she looks at him with a grateful smile, regains her poise and they continue up the steps he goes to knock but she beats him to it by ringing the doorbell instead. It has just started snowing again, it stopped for a hour or so. Donald’s doesn’t care much for the snow but Joan thinks it’s beautiful. As they wait about ten minutes and there is still no answer, they ring again hoping not to be stuck in the cold for much longer.
Nicholas is out of breath as he opens the door. “Sorry, sorry,” he says to the two at the door. “I thought I heard … never mind.” He smiles, regaining his composure. “Welcome to the party, Don and …?” He trails off, not recognizing the woman with him.
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-121 ]
Paul finally arrived, he walked towards the door and slammed his things down. He took a deep breath and shouted “OPEN THE DOOR!” as he angrily pounded his fist to it.
Nicholas winced as he heard the loud thumps at the front door, and the noise in the living room quieted for a moment before beginning again. Pulling open the door, he greeted Paul. “You know, you don’t have to actually knock the door in!” He grinned as he said it, making it a joke between them.
Paul glared at Nicholas “What took you so lo-“ he cut himself off upon noticing a beautiful looking women. “I have no business with you” he said as he walk pass by Nicholas to approach that girl.
Severa raised a solo cup filled with pop to her lips to take a sip, before the figure approaching her from behind caught her attention. She placed the cup down onto a small desk and turned on her heel to greet the new aquaintance. “Do you need something?” She asked, not bothering with a greeting for the time being.
Paul wet his lips and gently comb his fingers through his hair “Paul and you?” He reach his hands as he introduce himself
Cautiously, the young woman lifted a hand to delicately shake Paul’s before pulling away and wiping her hand off against her leather gauntlet. “Severa, to whoever it concerns. I can see that Nick’s taste in friends is getting worse by the day if someone like you was invited.” She stated, narrowing her glare at him.
Oregano looked to where the conversation was taking place, and whispered “calm down, everyone, please.”
When Keegan reads the invitation written in delicate script, the owner is unknown until his eyes glide past the signature on the bottom. Nicholas is written in whimsical hand writing. He smiles to himself and folds the paper between his fingers, recalling the last time he heard from his dear friend. The two of them became aquatinted long ago, but lost contact slowly over time. Now, Keegan did not have a doubt in his mind that this party would be amazing and promptly responded to his invite.
The day of the party arrives a few days later. When Keegan walks out of the front door of his house, the cold breeze encapsulates his skin instantly. He bites his tongue as he adjusts his hat on his head and shivers slightly.
The car ride there is short, the engine needing to cough before it roars to life from its hibernation in the winter weather.
When Keegan sticks his head out of his car and hops out, he can already hear the low hum of music playing inside the house, the curtains in the window covering multiple figures, bouncing to the beat of the soft music. At the door, Keegan wavers for a moment before knocking, glancing down at the gift he bought for Nicholas the day before. – A pack of his friend’s favourite chocolates, or at least the last time he checked they were his favourite . . .
but before he can tap his hand on the door, the knob slowly twists and the door creaks open, revealing the warm face of his friend Nicholas, a smile plastered on his mouth as the dim lights from the house pour into the night.
Keegan feels a grin tug at his lips as he takes his hat off and holds out the intricately wrapped gift. “Nick! You haven’t changed a bit.”
Nicholas smiles warmly at his friend. “Keegan, it’s so good to see you.” His eyes drift to the gift in Keegan’s hand, and he takes it, his eyes lingering over the complexity of the wrapping. “This is amazing – you didn’t have to!”
Unable to wait, he carefully opens the gift, preserving the paper and ribbon. His eyes brighten at the box of chocolates within. “You remembered,” he said, voice lilting up a little in surprise. “Thank you!”
Brinley looks up from her untouched glass of red wine when she sees a boy enter the house. He hands his dark brown coat to the maid and she hangs it onto the coat rack. She watches him as he makes his way over to the bar and asks for a drink. Brinley has yet to talk to anyone this evening so she decided that it’s probably time to make a first impression. She walks over the boy and taps him on the shoulder. He turn around sharply and puts out his hand, and shakes mine.
“Hi, my names Brinley.”
“I’m Keegan,” he says enthusiastically. The woman who tapped lightly tapped him on the shoulder has features that seem older than his, but her eyes dance with teenage flame.
He tilts his head to the side. “How do you know Nick?”
“Well, a few years ago when I was younger I caught this horrible cold that was going around. Unfortunately, it was around the holiday season so I was still in the hospital on Christmas Day. Just when I thought I was going to have the worst Christmas of my life, I herd a soft hum of my favorite holiday song coming from the down the hallway. In a matter of seconds a group of singers and a jolly Santa came rushing into my room. The Santa continued to visit me throughout the season and we instantly connected. We haven’t seen eac hother in so long and when I got the invitation I was so happy and excited, but I’m not going to lie, I don’t see any one that I recognize,” Brinley says as she looks around the nicely lit room.
Keegan smiles at her comment. “Don’t worry. By the end of the night, I’m sure you’ll get to know a lot of people.” His eyes scan the room and his voice fall flat. “And apparently I don’t know anyone either . . .” He trails off, searching for Nicholas who has disappeared into the kitchen and then returns his gaze to Brinley. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-220 ]
Alaska stood in front of the entrance, completing a head count of each flower she held in her bouquet. On her way over she paid the local florist ten dollars for twelve daisies, but now she only counted eleven. Puzzled, she squeezed her bottom lip between her teeth, looking as if she had forgotten about the one flower she singled out to keep for herself. Earlier, she thought of it as one-twelfth of a gift to herself.
Nicholas was hurrying back to the kitchen to check on the food when he noticed a figure standing on the porch. He opened the door.
“Alaska, welcome,” he said. His voice held a faint sound of curiosity as to why she hadn’t knocked. “It’s good to see you.”
Joan complimentes a young girls daisies and Don switches his attention to looking around the room. He brings his attention back to the young girl and realizes how attractive she is, scared of what her age might reveal to be he looks away knowing it’s best not to get tempted.
“Yeah they’re nice, huh?” Alaska said, gazing down at them smiling. “I mean thank you, I’m Alaska, what’s your name?”
“Huh…” Simon is hesitated since he wants to be included in conversation for getting a clue where Chaley is. But apparently interrupting is not a polite thing to do. In this case, he just stands behind the little squad, waiting.
“I’m Joan” I state “This is Don, i grab his arm turning his attention towards us “Don, this is Alaska” i say, he seems distracted and gives a handsome smile to Alaska “Hello Alaska, I’m Don” he shakes her hand and makes strong eye contact, they look at eachother a little bit longer than just an average handshake which gives me the clue that Don is somewhat interested. I walk away to make conversation with some other new people and leave them to talk alone.
“I am sorry for interrupting your talking with your…” Simon hesitates, but he is sure about the identity of Don since he remembers the ambiguity between them. Then he adds: “with your husband. My apologies.”
After, he looks up Joan to get her response. He hopes the atmosphere between them won’t be too awkward if he keeps apologizing.
“oh he’s not my husband” joan corrects joan hears a call in the distance ” oh i think it’s dinner time should we go?”
“Yes… yes. We should go.” Simon responds Joan. He feels he is embarrassed that he have stated wrong words. His face turns to red, lowering his head and saying nothing.
He mends his pace, striding over to the cafeteria with Joan.
“Sorry, what?” Her attention drew away from the woman she was talking to, and her handsome date, to find out what the boy wanted.
“Sorry for interrupting you…” Simon makes a pause, he tries to find the words to describe his question. He looks up the girl who holds the flowers in her hug, asks: “Sorry… I mean, uh… I mean do you know where Chaley is? The girl who wears jeans and a black tunic with a long blond hair. I am looking for her.”
“Oh, uh…” Alaska turned back to Joan and Don. “Do you two have any idea who Chaley is?” She took a step towards Don to get out of the way of their view of the inquiring boy. “He’s looking for her.”
“no idea” Don says “we’ve only just got here” “Joan why don’t you go help find chaley” he instructs “and Alaska and I can get us all some drinks?”
Joan looks at him for a minute talking with her eyes and eventually obliges. “Let’s go… i’m sorry i didn’t catch your name?”
“Oh, this is Simon.” Simon grins to a helpful girl, asking: “What is you name? Am I interrupting you? I am sorry…” when he notices that point, his face turns to red immediately, he hesitates, embarrassed. He murmurs, stating: “Thanks for your help… I am really appreciated that. Thank you.”
joan and simon walk away, leaving Don and Alaska to get some drinks at the bar in the next room. “what do you drink?” don asks her.
“Rosé, please.” She grins and looks him up and down from behind as he orders their beverages. “So don, where are you from? I’ve never heard of you from Nicholas… but that goes for the majority of the guests here too.”
“New York you?” Don turns to order the drinks from the bartender. and looks back at Alaska looking her up and down.
Alaska perks up and follows him to the closet. “Do you need any help?”
“South Dakota… wow, New York! Big-city man, huh?” She smirked as she spoke. “Where’s your girlfriend, Joan?”
“she’s not my girlfriend, just a friend from work, i’m in advertising, she went off with the little boy” just then he spills his scotch on his suit, “f**k” he say angrily they look around them and they’re no napkins he walks over to the closet and opens it hoping to see napkins.
Mick grabbed a red solo cup from the table and poured in a can of beer. The taste was bitter, too bubbly. He had never had any alcohol before, but the others seemed to be drinking and he didn’t want to stand out. He stood in a corner awkwardly, he didn’t know anyone else here and he didn’t feel like socializing. He just sipped his beer and bobbed his head to the music on the stereo.
Oregano noticed the kid standing by the snack table, acting suspicious. He took a deep breath and stepped up behind him, tapping his shoulder.
“Excuse me young man, is that drink alcoholic?”
“Maybe. But I’m perfectly legal.” Mick bluffed. The man looked a bit suspicious to Mick.
“Is that so?” Oregano pulled his hands up to his hips and channelled the police-officer look he used when speaking to high school classes. “Then of course you wouldn’t mind if I ask you for some ID?”
He felt a little guilty about putting the kid on the spot, but Oregano knew the kind of stuff alcohol could make people do. It was for his own good.
“Do YOU bring ID to a party?” Mick asked, mimicking the man’s stance. He looked down at him, writing off the man’s comment. “Do you happen to have a pen?” Mick downed the rest of his drink.
“ACTUALLY, SIR, I do.” Oregano dug a hand into the pocket of his sport coat and pulled out both a ballpoint pen (the logo of the police station on the side) which he handed to the boy along with his police badge, on which was printed his height: 5’4”.
“Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.”
“Thank you,” Mick plucked the pen from the man’s hand. “My name’s Mick.” He grabbed a new can of beer from the snack table. “And your badge means nothing when you’re off duty, so I’m just gonna…” Mick stabbed the can with the man’s pen, and started shot gunning it.
Halfway through his attempt at shotgunning the beer, the can jumped in Mick’s hands, splashing liquid down his shirt and onto the floor.
Sirus siddled up beside Oregano, leaning his elbow on the shorter man’s shoulder. “Looks like the kid’s had a bit too much, doesn’t it, officer?” He said, grinning, gesturing to Oregano’s police badge.
“ExCUSE me! I have had ONE drink, single dreadlock.” Mick said offended.
Oregano sighed in relief as the drink landed on the floor, because he didn’t want to have to take it himself, but clearly from the boy’s response, he was already super drunk. He tilted his head all the way up to look at the man next to him, but didn’t make a move to remove his arm from his shoulder. His knees quaked from the weight.
“One drink is still against the law, kid.”
And, to the man, “Please calm down, sir. I’m not sure we’ve met.”
“Not a problem, sir. All calm on my end.” Sirus stuck out his hand, the one that wasn’t leaning on Oregano’s lean frame. “M’names Sirus. Yours?”
“Officer Oregano Mick,” he twisted himself to shake the hand, then turned back to Mick. “Calm down, kid, you don’t know what that stuff’ll do to you.”
“I’m perfectly aware of what a glass of beer will do to me, thank you very much, OLD MAN.” Mick said, and moved past Sirus to get another drink. He was highly suspicious of braid man, he just HAPPENED to appear when Mick spilled his drink. Mick eyed him while he grabbed a new can. Coming to this party was a mistake.
Oregano gasped in horror. “EXCUSE ME, I’m thirty FIVE!”
Sirus patted Oregano’s head with his spare hand, then reached into his long coat and produced a full bottle of wine. He studied its cheap, garish label, shrugs, and took a swig straight from the bottle.
Now Oregano snapped his head from one person to another. The man beside him had pulled a full bottle of wine from his jacket pocket, but the little boy was trying to sneak off to get even more drunk! No!
“Stop, both of you! Stop right now!”
He finally drew away from the arm on his shoulder and pointed at him. His other hand flew to his waist were his firearm would have been, not that he would have drawn it against these troublemakers. The singing coming from outside made him swing his head that direction, but he had too many problems already.
“I need BOTH of you to just CALM DOWN! PLEASE!”
“You are SERIOUSLY bunk Cilantro. I think YOU need to chill.” Mick calmly popped the tab on his beer, and turned to Sirus. “And I think you need to stay in your lane, Mister Wine mom.”
“Hey, lay off, kid. I’m not the underage drunk here.” Sirus points a finger acuusingly at Mick, then takes another drink from his wine bottle. “I’m completely legal, unlike SOME people.”
“I’m pretty sure you hopped off the wrong stop to LARP central, Sirius Black.” Mick decided the beer soaked shirt was too sticky, so he pulled it off and threw it lazily in Dill and Serious’s direction. He took another long sip.
The wet shirt landed on Oregano’s face. He could feel the alcohol seeping into his skin. He shrieked. Oregano whispered “calm down, please calm down,” to himself. When he tugged it off and dropped it on the floor, he saw that soem had splashed on the other man as well. He drew himself up to his full height and tried to regain control of the situation.
“SIR. I’m going to need you to either SHOW me some ID or CALM DOWN. Preferably both, please.”
Sirus raised palms in compliance. “Alright, fine. Jeez.” He twirled his wrist, and materialized a rectangular plastic card, which he held up to show Oregano. The front was undecorated, a blank white sheet with a photo of Sirus that resembled an oil painting more than a photo. A block of text ran down the side, which read as follows-
Name: Sirus Woods
Age: 27
Weight: None of your business
Height: Taller than you
“You said PREFERABLY both, and since he showed his, I’d rather not. Besides,” Mick turned out his pockets, “no wallet.”
Susan shuffled up to the front door, checking her breath for any signs of alcohol. She got Nicholas’ invitation a week ago, and the days leading up to today were a mess. Finding a babysitter for two bratty kids wasn’t easy. Taking some breath mints from her clunky black purse, she hid her metallic flask in her jacket pocket. Amy proceeded to knock with a recently manicured hand.
Nicholas opened the door and smiled at Susan. “You _were_ able to get a babysitter – excellent. I’m glad you were able to come.” He holds the door wide and waves her in. “Everyone’s in the living room.”
[continued at http://lordtweedsmuir.edublogs.org/2017/12/19/an-invitation/#comment-156 ]
Leslie heads over to the punch bowl to grab herself a beverage.
But she seems to be so nervous that’s he spilled her drink all over herself, she’s so embarrassed, her eyes are looking towards her feet, and hers eyes fill with tears, She pulls out her flask and spikes her punch.
She sees a boy standing in the corner of the room, she approaches him and he seems to notice the punch stain on the left side of her shoulder.
All she can think about is the way that he doesn’t seem to mind the stain and even pulls her in closer.
The boy says “you have very nice eyes” Leslie wants to replie but she became to nervous with joy all she can seem to do is giggle .
Jace isn’t sure why he came to the party in the first place – sure the Clave wants to keep an eye on all Downworlders, but Nick seems to be the least dangerous one he’s ever met – so he decides to find his own entertainment.
When the girl he is flirting with giggles instead of responding, he sighs inwardly. They are all so silly, the mundanes. Still, it’s not like he can leave, so he flashes another smile, tilting his head so his blond hair falls over his forehead. “What brings you here?” he asks easily.
Buddy hops out of his dads car, the bells on his shoes ringing with each step. His eyes widen when he sees what a beautiful place Nicholas has. He skips up the front steps, while he hums jingle bells to himself. He knocks on the door- to the beat of jingle bells, and then stands there expectantly with a boquet of candy canes ready to hand to Nichols.
Immediately after Nicholas opens the door, his eyes go to the candy canes in Buddy’s hand. He sighs. “You know I’m going incognito, right?” He accepts the bouquet and offers a smile. “It’s very thoughtful, however; thank you.”
Stepping back, he indicates the hallway to Buddy’s left. “Everyone’s in the living room – go have fun.”
Buddy walks down the hallway, noticing all of the people in the living room. The first thing he sees is the big table of candies and desserts in the middle of the room. He loads up a plate, full of cookies, jelly beans, and chocolate covered fruit. His eyes widen at the final product. He is so excited to eat the plate that he doesn’t even notice the teenage boy behind him. He backs into him, fumbling his plate onto the boys chest.
The man in front of Keegan is staring at him, his eye wide and his mouth gapped open. Brinley stands behind him, equally shocked at the food slowly racing down Keegan’s chest.
Keegan’s eyes light up ablaze. “What’s your problem man!”
“I should go,” Keegan hears Brinley say behind him, her voice slowly trailing off with her.
Keegan frantically gets a hand full of napkins from the dessert table and begins roughly wiping the food off his shirt, mumbling to himself, the ridiculous man still standing stunned in front of him.
Buddy stood there laughing intensely, his whole body moving with each bellowing giggle.
“Problem?” he said excitedly “Don’t have one. Do you want to be friends?”
Buddy does not understand that is not the way to make friends.
Keegan glances down at his disgusting shirt again, the food stained.
“No,” he replies, darting off before the man can say another word. “I think dinner is ready.” He grunts loudly and storms off.