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sebthealchemist-blog · 8 years ago

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Bless Your Beautiful [Dragon] Hide || Biffbastian

WHO : Biff McIntosh & Sebastian Smythe WHERE: In his Sebastian’s Room, #305 in Notos WHEN: The evening of March 4, 2017 WHAT: Biff and Sebastian enjoy their first date. WARNING: Mentions of death and immortality, probably language, crude humor, lots of dragon questions, political discussions, mentions of drug and alcohol use and abuse, McCarthy McComparisons, a vague allusion to Quinn Fabray, cutie patooties, maybe some smoochin’, talks about magic, flying jealousy, and that’s possibly it.

Sebastian took a long sip of wine, keeping his breathing carefully measured and slow. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He thought of the only other time he’d had an LN in his room and it was when Marley Rose had stormed in to yell at him. He hoped that wasn’t indicative of how this evening would go. Taking a moment, he reminded himself to be respectful, polite, and pleasant? He could do that, right? Sebastian snorted. Signs pointed to no, but he was determined to try. Because Biff, the obnoxiously popular, stupidly handsome dragon was going to come over. And they were going to have dinner (which smelled amazing) and it was a date and it was going to be fantastic. When the knock sounded, he jumped but rushed over, pausing before he opened the door. Eagerness wasn’t sexy.

In a word, he felt ridiculous. He felt that way for a lot of reasons; he felt ridiculous for agreeing to a date in the first place and he felt ridiculous for the nerves that wouldn’t seem to leave the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t dated seriously in half a century, and casually, it had been almost as long; he put the nerves down to that. When he considered how he felt beyond the nerves, he was excited. He was excited for the same reasons he felt ridiculous. Sebastian Smythe had emerged quite surprisingly as one of the more interesting characters he’d met since coming to NYADA; it was obvious from the get-go that he was a Bloodline. That could be determined without knowing his name; he gave off that same cocky air Biff had grown to hate so much but somehow there was a softness that came with it. He’d seemed genuinely angry about the rules preventing him from leaving campus and adorable in the way his nervousness came across. With flowers in one hand, and a slightly more practical kit of basic potions ingredients under his other arm, he made his way towards Sebastian’s room; a definite spring in his step. He couldn’t remember that last time someone had offered to cook for him and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. ‘Good evening.’ he greeted, offering the witch a bright smile when he answered the door. 'These are for you. Obviously.’ he added with an almost-there chuckle as he offered the flowers out to the other man. Manners dictated it would be rude to show up without something for the host and he’d be damned if he gave anyone room to criticise his manners.

When Sebastian finally got a hold of himself and pulled open the door, unable to hide the small gasp that escaped him. He looked curiously from Biff to the flowers, mouth falling open slightly. Flowers? He got— no one had ever… A dopey smiled crossed his face as the gesture settled in. “Hello,” he grinned, taking them. “I…” he shook his head. “You really didn’t have to. But I… thank you so much.” He stumbled over his words, shaking his head disbelievingly. “Please, come in.” Stepping said, Sebastian gestured him and. He couldn’t stop smiling, still trying to process. He smoothed a hand down the front of his sweater and closed the door. “Make yourself comfortable?” He offered, gesturing over to the table where it was set, candles burning, setting the ambiance of the room. “I just have to get these in some water. Dinner is almost ready.”

The smile that came across the other man’s face told him immediately he’d made the right decision in bringing flowers. 'It’s the very least I could do.’ he countered, following the movement of his hand as he stepped into the dorm. He was struck, at first, by how big it was; considerably larger than his own and he was already envious of the fact that Sebastian had a kitchen. 'I have a few other things for you.’ he explained. 'This,’ he produced a small bottle of a vivid gold potion. 'It’ll stop you feeling my aura and allow for a much more productive date, and this,’ he continue, raising the potions kit slightly. 'Because I know you’re a rather accomplished alchemist and I wasn’t sure how well flowers would go down.’ he chuckled.

Sebastian pulled a large jar that he tended to use for surplus brews from the cupboard; it was the only thing big enough to hold the flowers appropriately. He’d hardly got them in and watered before Biff spoke again. “You what?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing. He took the bottle gratefully, desperate for a relief. He’d went from the giddy sort of nervous to the incredibly uncomfortable sort of nervous to an unsettling combination of the two. “Oh, wonderful,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He took the bottle carefully, removing the stop and knocking it back. Setting the empty bottle aside, Sebastian ignored the way his cheeks heated up as Biff complimented him. “I— well, I mean…” he smiled a bit and shrugged. “Why in the world did you bring— I mean, the potion, sure. But the flowers? And this?” He took the potions kit with an eager smile, chewing on his lip. “It’s incredibly sweet, I just… I didn’t get you anything? I didn’t—“ he shook his head in spite of himself. “I don’t do this kind of thing often. I’m not sure of the protocols.”

'That makes two of us.’ Biff pointed out, marginally concerned that he had gone overboard. Flowers were customary; they were the last time he’d gone on a date and his aethernet research had told him the same thing still applied. 'Well, it’s rude to show up to someone’s place of residence without a gift for the host; moreso in the case of a date. ’ he explained. 'I bought the flowers and then suddenly doubted whether you’d like them so I decided to pick up something a little more personal. I wasn’t expecting anything from you Sebastian.’ he assured him. 'You’re cooking me dinner aren’t you? I think this puts us on equal footing in terms of what we’re giving the other.’ he decided, giving a firm nod of his head as if to emphasise his desire not to linger on the subject. 'Speaking of dinner, it smells incredible. What are we having?’ he asked. In hindsight, perhaps two gifts was a little more than he really needed to bring but it was too late to change that decision now; with the smile on Sebastian’s face, he wasn’t sure he would change it even if he could.

Is it?” He asked, laughing. “I show up places without gifts all the time.” He started to feel a bit more at ease, now only plagued by the butterflies flapping wildly in the pit of his stomach. He flushed, ducking his head and nodding. “Well, yes. And it’s chicken marsala? Over pasta, if that sounds okay. Pie to follow.” He smiled, tracing his fingertips along the petals of a rose. “You look incredibly handsome, by the way. Note how I’m not saying adorable. Don’t think I didn’t notice your lack of response on the matter.” He winked and turned to the stove, checking on the chicken. “I don’t know if you drink? I have a lovely wine selection, though. If you’re interested in a glass. I’m enjoying a nice red.”

'Perhaps then it’s an era thing.’ He suggested. That wouldn’t be something new for him. While some people considered his habits old-fashioned; for him, they simply harkened back to a time when good manners were abound. Adorable. There was that word again. He could see the appeal of it now; he couldn’t think of a more appropriate word to describe Sebastian’s blush and the way he ducked his head to hide it. 'Handsome is much better. Now I know you wanted to have dinner because of my devilishly good looks and not just to ask me questions to satisfy your eternal curiosity.’ He teased. 'I don’t think I’ve ever had chicken marsala. It looks good.’ He observed, stepping into the kitchen and casting his eyes over the stove. 'I do drink and a good red happens to be my favourite.’ He informed him, picking up the bottle to read the label. 'Where do you keep your glasses?’ He asked, looking up.

“Regardless, it’s lovely.” He didn’t care about eras. He’d been expecting some sort of weirdness about about their age difference, but it didn’t seem to be that way. Biff seemed normal. Sexy. Mature. He laughed, shoulders shaking as Biff mentioned his dinner motives. “You certainly can’t blame for being bother attracted to and fascinated by you.” He gave Biff a smile over his shoulder. “I’m glad it looks good. Let’s hope it tastes that way as well.” Pointing to the other end of the stretch of counter where the glasses hung by their bases, he said, “Right over there. The bottle on the counter is open.” He watched the other with a bit of a smile. “Where did you come across that potion? The gold one for the aura?” He wondered if it had the origin he thought it did.

'I have every faith in you to not make us suffer through a terrible dinner.’ He retorted. He selected a glass and filled it half-full before taking the time to swirl it and taste it. Sebastian, he decided, had excellent taste in wine. 'The potion? Santana and I invented it actually. It’s always been something I’d wanted to create; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to switch my aura off temporarily but somehow I’ve always managed to get distracted by other things. The Masterwitch competition gave me some additional motivation.’ He answered, leaning back against the counter. 'I’m not particularly skilled in the art of alchemy but I was fortunate enough to have built up pieces of research over the years and we made it come together.’ He couldn’t hide the pride in his tone; the potion he’d made was as successful as he ever needed it to be because it made his life easier.

Sebastian’s nose wrinkled. He’d thought as much. “So you did this yourself?” He tilted his head with a smile. “That’s very impressive. It’s highly effective.” Sipping his wine as he stirred the pasta, he continued, “I hadn’t thought anything to be capable of creating a resistance to your aura. I’ve only ever met one other person like you but, but he told me such things weren’t possible.” Knowing that he was pushing his luck, he gave Biff his most charming smile. “If you ever feel like sharing the instructions, I’d have incredibly eager ears.” Turning off the heat, Sebastian moved passed Biff (a little too close, but he couldn’t help himself) to gather the plates from the table. “I think it’s ready. I hope. I guess we’re going to find out.” Sebastian chuckled softly.

He knew the request was coming. Sebastian was an alchemist; and the potion he and Santana created was new and unlike any other. He’d have been surprised if the witch hadn’t wanted to know how to brew it. 'I don’t know that anyone thought it was possible. But I suppose I had a determination that many witches wouldn’t understand because my aura makes people so uncomfortable in my presence that I find myself withdrawing from people more often than I’d like.’ he explained. 'It doesn’t just work for me either; it’ll work on other aura’s too but you need to add the person’s DNA somehow so it’s very specific to them, and it’ll only counter that aura. As for the instructions, I’m afraid the patent isn’t ours yet and Santana might try to kill me if I pass it along and lose her money’ His smile was charming. Was he flirting? He definitely didn’t need to be so close when he walked by. Biff decided he liked it. It was nice to flirt, to relax; and it made it all the easier to push his usual thoughts from his mind. He picked up the bottle of wine, and carried it to the table; placing it in the centre before pulling Sebastian’s chair out for him. 'Are you feeling nervous now?’ He teased. 'I have very high expectations for this dinner.’ He winked.

Sebastian nodded as Biff spoke. He quite enjoyed listening to him talk; his voice was smooth and his words careful. “And I assume that had to feel fucking amazing doing it for yourself as opposed to waited around for a witch to do it for you.” When he elaborated, explaining that DNA was needed, Sebastian smirked. “And what part of you have I just consumed?” He asked playfully. He scooped up their plates, adding food to each before returning to the table. His heart hammered against his chest when he saw Biff pull out his chair. Aether, it was so… he didn’t want to so romantic, but he wasn’t sure that there was a better word for it. Charming. Kind. Alluring. Sebastian grinned and thanked him softly. “I’m incredibly nervous,” he admitted with a shrug, taking his seat. Sebastian heard the nervous chuckle tumble from his lips and he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Since when was he so flustered and giggly, like an Aetherdamn teenager? “I just hope I don’t poison you, to be honest.”

'It did feel rather wonderful.' He confessed. 'But not just because I didn't rely on a witch to do it. I like doing things for myself. I'd have been mad if the thought had always been in the back of my mind and someone else beat me to it.' He took his seat once Sebastian took his and picking up the bottle of wine, he topped up the other man's glass. 'I'd tell you not to be nervous but for some reason I'm not sure it would work.' He offered, flashing a smile. 'But I hope you know the sentiment is there all the same. I don't want you to feel nervous.' And I don't want you to be embarrassed either. He didn't voice that particular thought; drawing attention to it would only make the situation worse. Picking up his knife and fork, he cut into a piece of chicken and his eyes fell closed as he savoured the taste. 'Mm. This is - This is really good.' He complimented, making eye contact across the table. 'The way you were talking I was worried you really were inept in the kitchen.' He laughed.

“I greatly understand the desire to do things yourself,” he murmured, taking a grateful sip of his freshly poured wine. “It’s strange,” he said. “The nerves. It’s not usually my style. I tend to be the one who’s cool and collected. Or rather, I like to think I am.” He hesitated, grabbing his own silverware but watching carefully as Biff took the first bite. He prayed to the Aether and every damn Ancient that it was at least decent. He wasn’t aiming for Masterchef, but less than repulsive was preferable. Laughing, Sebastian shook his head. “I am. Utterly. But I know someone who’s incredibly in the kitchen. I asked for a lesson.” He took a small bite of chicken and pasta, relaxing as he did. It was good. He’d have to find a way to thank Adam. “So, tell me about you?” He asked conversationally, taking another sip of wine and watching Biff carefully over the rim of his glass.

He raised an eyebrow, surprise clear on his face at the revelation that Sebastian had sought help. That meant he'd been aiming to be impressive; there weren't many people who tried to impress him and the witch's effort didn't go unnoticed. 'Tell you about myself?' He asked rhetorically. 'That's a long story and I've never been much good at talking about myself. I was born in Ireland, as you may have guessed from my accent.' His accent was now a strange mix of American and Irish but he liked to think the lilt he associated with home was clear enough to be recognised. 'I've lived most of my life in and around Europe; I didn't venture over the Atlantic until the forties. I've been here ever since.' He explained, somewhat lost for words. When people asked about him, he was accustomed to answering specific questions. He didn't know what kind of information Sebastian wanted to know. 'I came here of my own free will; haven't broken the law for centuries now.' He remarked, pausing to take another drink of his wine. 'I've been campaigning for our rights so long and I felt it was about time I experienced some of what they consider us to have earned. I don't wanna turn the conversation to politics. I'm told that's something you're not supposed to talk about too much. Tell me about you.' He prompted, curious to hear about the Bloodline's life, how he'd come to this moment.

"I've assumed as much," he grinned. He'd be lying if he said the accent wasn't sexy. It was subtle, but distracting all the same. He laughed at the idea that Biff hadn't broken the law for centuries. He wasn't certain that it was a joke, but it certainly came off that way. He was a bit confused, wonder how needing a babysitter was something that was 'earned.' He didn't ask, however, as Biff elaborated that he wasn't looking for a political discussion. "There's not much to say. Twenty-two years certainly doesn't compare to fifteen hundred? Ish? My math isn't the best," he joked. "I grew up to be a pompous little brat. Hated my parents, partied to spite them, got into too much trouble and landed myself an ultimatum. NYADA or being cut off." Sebastian shrugged, taking another bite of chicken. "I've been worse places. Met worse people. Certainly held worse company." He winked.

'I wouldn't say that. I think you can pack a lot into twenty-two years.' he retorted before shaking his head. 'You're right. It doesn't quite compare but that's not to say you don't have a lot to say. I'm interested in what you have to say.' He let out a laugh when Sebastian described himself as a pompous little brat. 'Well, I'm glad you said that about yourself; it means I don't have too.' he teased easily. He couldn't help but realise how easy this was; the food was good, the conversation was good and he'd almost dare to describe the company as great. 'Can I ask what trouble caused the ultimatum?' he asked curiously, furrowing his brow slightly.

Sebastian smiled, pleasantly embarrassed by Biff's interest in what he had to say. He'd never had pictured them here when they'd first met. He wouldn't even have permitted himself to spend that much time alone with an LN, let alone have them over for dinner. A date. He laughed easily at the joke, biting his lip. "I, ah..." he cleared his throat, a bit of a shameful smile playing on his lips. "There was a nightclub raid where I was peddling.... less than legal home brews?" He squinted, looking at Biff through one eye. "Caused quite a stir."

'Why?' The question had left his lips before he could really allow himself to think about what he was asking. It was bizarre for him to hear that someone with such a powerful family, someone who was brought up wanting for nothing would feel the need to resort to what was essentially dealing drugs. He liked to believe he was a good judge of character and he couldn't judge Sebastian as someone inherently bad, someone who would break the law just for the amusement. 'You don't have to answer that Sebastian. I'm sorry. I don't want to make the conversation uncomfortable or anything like that.' he apologised seconds after the question left his lips.

Sebastian squinted a bit, tilting his head to look at Biff as he tried to defend what he’d asked. Without much thought into the motion, he reached over and squeezed the man’s hand gently, giving him a small smile. “You don’t— why are you apologizing to me? It’s okay, Biff. Honestly.” He glanced to where his hand was still touching Biff’s and pulled it away quickly, clearing his throat and finding a sudden fascination with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t… I want to say it was partly because I’m an idiot. I recently had another idiot phase where I felt it appropriate to start consuming such substances again to avoid—“ he faltered, sighing. “I have a habit of avoiding thing as if it’s my job. I’ve never been good at coping with things. When I was younger into more recently, it was the crushing pressure from my family and society to be an exact way and act prim, proper, and perfect always. I’ve never been that person. So I did nearly everything I could to distance my life from that.” Sighing softly, Sebastian glanced back up. “I can only imagine what the woes of a rich, privileged Bloodline man sound like to your ears. I apologize for how it must sound. But to me, things like being forbidden from doing certain types of magics and kept from my passions and any chance at finding true happiness or love? Those are my true albatrosses.” Sebastian paused to sip his wine, thinking. “Lately I’ve come to learn that such simple things don’t compare the struggles of your people, regardless of how much of my life I spent blind to that. But you’ll have to forgive me; I’m still learning."

The squeeze of his hand was unexpected but not unwelcome. It was fleeting and he could only guess that it had been an almost unconscious move but he couldn't help but return the smile. He listened; and as recently as a decade ago, he probably would have found himself offended that a Bloodline thought that they had any right to complain about their struggle given how privileged their lives were but maturing, learning new attitudes was a constant process and now he could hear what Sebastian said without condemning him for feeling that way. 'Our struggles are different.' he acknowledged quietly, 'But that doesn't mean that your struggle is less than mine. Not in how we experience them. Does that make sense?' he asked. 'Your problems are different but them being different doesn't stop you from being worthy of sympathy. I think in situations like yours it's good that you can recognise your privilege. And I can't tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you're taking the time to learn. I think that says more about you than anything your past can possibly say.' he said firmly. He had to believe that because his own past wasn't worthy of the pedestal people would put him on. 'There's nothing I need to forgive you for. I asked you why because I wanted to understand your motivation because from the outside looking in, your life doesn't seem like it could be difficult but from what you're saying it is and you're entitled to complain about that.'

Sebastian laughed softly in spite of himself, having spent too many times at too many LNWA meetings to believe that his struggle had any true value. What Biff said touched him in a way he hadn’t expected. The words weren’t even necessarily groundbreaking. But the conviction behind them was… comforting. Sweet. Undeserved. “I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much in my life,” he murmured, shaking his head. Aether, had he actually said that? Moron. He changed the subject quickly to a bit of guilt still nagging at him, unspoken words finding their way to the surface. “I’m certain that I said some incredibly shitty things to you when you arrived here. I know that the fact that you expected some sort of respect really irritated the hell out of me and I know how I must’ve responded, even if I can’t remember those things clearly.” He traced his fingertip around the rim of his class, glancing back up to Biff. “What I’m trying to do is set aside my pride and formally apologize, but such things aren’t my strongest suits.”

He was already opening his mouth when Sebastian laughed; as though to interrupt him before he could speak, reassure him that, in fact, he meant what he said but he promptly closed it at what he actually said. 'You want to - Well, my understanding of dating is that the kiss usually happens at the end of the date.' he countered, surprise clear in his voice. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was attractive but he hadn't expected that. He could vaguely recall his first interactions with Sebastian and while he couldn't remember the exact words exchanged, he remembered his first impression was that he was every bit the entitled, selfish Bloodline he'd come to expect however he could also recognise his own faults. 'I do that. I expect respect; I'm so accustomed to it and honestly, when I'm in new situations, I tend to project that tenfold because it's how I make myself most comfortable. I forget sometimes that respect is something you have to earn over and over again. It's not something I'm entitled to.' he explained. 'I know how I can come across sometimes and I'm not surprised it could rub you the wrong way. You don't have to apologise to me for that. Let's just agree that this is a clean slate.' he suggested, before taking another bite of chicken.

Sebastian’s eyes were a little wide as Biff spoke, simply nodding. He couldn’t manage to find his voice, to try to defend the ridiculous thing that had tumbled from his lips. As Biff explained himself, Sebastian shook his head. “It was hard, truthfully. “It made me mercilessly irritated with you from the get-go.” Chuckling playfully, he continued, “So imagine my disdain when you started posting things about Shakespeare and you spoke to others, sounding insightful and kind, and you have the nerve to walk around with a face like that.” Following suit, Sebastian took another bite of dinner, not half as interested in it as the man in front of him. “I’d like a clean slate. Does that open up the floor for twenty questions yet?” He teased. “Because the dragon-related questions are burning a proverbial hole in my pocket. I just want to learn everything about you that I can while I have you here.”

'Well, I'm terribly sorry for my face.' he laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners as the smile spread over his lips. He nodded. 'I think then we're both in agreement; a clean slate it is. And yes, that does mean the floor is open for twenty questions and you can ask any dragon related question your heart desires.' he offered. He was used to people asking him questions; he'd come to expect it every time he met someone new but he was always interested in what their first question was. 'Although I hope you understand that for every question you ask, I get one in return.' he pointed out, refusing to allow the conversation to become entirely about him.

Sebastian shook his head, finding something incredibly satisfying about making Biff smile. He was excited at the prospect of questions. "That's seems fair. We could just go back and forth. I ask one, you ask one?" He smiled, taking another bite of dinner. "As you're the guest, you can go first."

He swallowed, nodding, before he verbalised his agreement. 'That does sound fair.' He paused, looking at the man on the other side of the table as he considered the questions he could ask. Their conversation thus far had been heavy and he was cautious about dwelling on that; he didn't want to ruin the atmosphere entirely but he also didn't want to move the mood to something entirely frivolous. 'Which five people, living or dead, would you invite to a dinner party?' He asked. That was such a cliché question; one that might have seemed like a cop-out but a lot could be determined about a person based on the company they chose to keep.

Sebastian smiled, waiting patiently as Biff seemed to be choosing a question. The way the candlelight splashed across his face was distracting; Sebastian would have eagerly extended the silence. "Oh damn," he murmured, huffing out a long breath. "Auguste Rodin, William Shakespeare, Cleopatra, Vincent VanGogh, and..." he trailed off, concentrating. "JK Rowling. Though George Orwell is in a tight sixth place." He smiled to Biff, resting his hand on his chin. "My turn? How big are you as a dragon?" Another brief pause. "You know, dragon sizedly. Not... well, you know."

'I was friends with him y'know.' He recalled with a smile. 'Shakespeare. I was lucky enough to see more than one of his plays performed at the time. I have a few pieces he wrote; original copies. I'll show them to you sometime if you're interested.' He offered, feeling like something of a name-dropper. He laughed again; a real laugh that had him almost throwing his head back. /Of course/ that would be the question Sebastian asked. 'Honestly, I don't know. I never sought to measure myself and I haven't been in that form for a long time. Maybe around the same size as the Statue of Liberty?' He shrugged, 'Give or take a few metres. That's height. Length, I couldn't hazard a guess. But I'm pretty big and my party trick is that when I'm flying I can blend in against the clouds and go unseen for a while.' He was picking his way through his meal; too engrossed in conversation to really focus on eating dinner. 'What's your favourite potion to brew and why?'

Sebastian’s mouth fell open slowly, shocked. It was thing to hear rumors and and speculation but. “You… have…” Original copies. He had original copies. Sebastian’s breath quickened. Had it gotten warm in the room? “I would love that,” he said, voice nearly a whisper. “I… I can’t even explain what that…” He shook his head, trying to find a semblance of chill. Tilting his head a bit, he found himself full of more questions. “That Statue of Liberty?” he gasped, laughing a bit. “Holy shit. That’s… holy shit.” He set his silverware aside, focusing more on his wine than dinner. He’d rather use his mouth for the conversation as opposed to the hindrance of chewing. “You can actually fly,” he repeated with a hollow laugh, shocked, trying desperately to absorb all the information. “Aether, I’m so jealous. That has to be amazing. If you blend in, how do you not want to be in a dragon form all the time? You can fly,” he repeated, in awe. “I would want to fly always."

His reaction was fantastic. Truthfully, part of the reason Biff liked to answer questions in person was because he got a real kick out of seeing how people responded to the more fanciful parts of who, what he was. 'Ah, ah. You didn't answer my question.' He feigned admonishment, going so far as to waggle his finger. 'I do always fly.' He remarked. 'I can fly in this form too, and it's my preferred form of transport. I like being in the air considerably more than being on the ground.' He took a drink and breathed out a sigh. 'I don't stay in my Drake form for a few reasons nowadays. My kind are at risk; I grew up being hunted for parts of me. I can get more accomplished like this and to transform back and forth as much as I would need to is inexplicably painful. You have an estimate as to how big I am; can you imagine shrinking from that to this?' He gestured from his head to the rest of his body for emphasis. 'Let me know if you're ever brace enough to give flying a go. I could help you out; give you a taste of it.' He offered.

Sebastian should have been paying closer attention, keeping in mind everything Biff was saying. But he was stuck on flying. “You could… in this—?” Hardly anything was a coherent thought. “Mason McCarthy and I had a very long discussion on why I prefer traveling by plane as opposed to portalling. There’s just something about flying. I could never imagine, just, being able to do that whenever I’d want,” he said, voice full of awe and amazement. “I would never be on the ground.” At the offer, he felt chills rush over him in waves. “You… really?” His voice was small. He couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable, as if he was waiting for a ‘Gotcha!’ moment. “That would be amazing. Maybe better than the— no. Not better than the Shakespeare. But Aether, I just…” Sebastian shook his head. “I’m brave enough.” Putting a dead stop to his embarrassing gushing, he said, “I apologize for taking your turn. I do believe it’s your question and I don’t know that I’ve ever had a finger shaken at me,” he added, teasing.

As reluctant as he would be to admit it, Biff liked to show off. A little. He liked for people to look at him and feel impressed rather than afraid. To prove his point, he stood from the table and moved so that his whole body was in Sebastian's eye line. With no effort, he rose off the ground and made a point of flying the length of the room. It wasn't particularly high or particularly flashy but he suspected it would be enough to continue to be impressive. He landed back in his seat with grace that had taken years to master and he flashed a confident smirk across the table. 'Well, as long as you're brave enough, I'll help you fly.' he promised, pleased to have found a someone willing to indulge in his favourite pastime. 'I asked you about your potions. Which is your favourite to brew, and why?'

Sebastian allowed himself the indulgence of his eyes traveling the length of Biff’s body as he stood. He watched with eager eyes, laughing in amazement as the man flew around the room, returning himself neatly into his chair. It was utterly wonderful. “You’re amazing,” he said, a tone in his voice verging on affectionate. At the promise, Sebastian smiled in awe. The way his heart banged about in his ribcage was incredibly irritating… could Biff hear it from where he was sitting? “Ah,” he said, nodding. “I apologize. You did ask that. I was just… my brain sort of took of on the other things.” Smiling sheepishly, Sebastian took a moment to think. “There’s a brew that I make for sleep. It sort of… alleviates bad dreams. Depending on the additives, it can also help give different insights. A bit of clairvoyance, what obstacles you’re currently facing, et cetera… it was one of the first I developed on my own. My favorite thing being that the base is so versatile is that I’m always managing to find different ways for it to be useful. It also has a nice, pleasant blue glow to it. Most of my brews do, if I can help it. I love blue,” he added, eyeing Biff with a smile.

Of all the emotions that were swirling around, all he could settle on was light. He didn't even think that was an emotion but it described how he felt to a tee. Light like air. Happy. It had been a long time since he'd just lived in the moment, for the moment and he was glad he'd done so tonight. He preened at the compliment, sitting up a little straighter, meeting Sebastian's gaze across the table. 'One of the first.' he mused, slightly in awe. Alchemy wasn't his strong point; he didn't have the patience for it a lot of the time but it was a practice of magic that was incredibly valuable, and something he wished he could improve on. To hear someone so young talk about having developed more than one brew was impressive. 'That sounds rather incredible.' he remarked, nodding his approval. At his last revelation, he was suddenly glad he wore blue. 'What was the inspiration behind making that?' he asked.

Sebastian smiled a bit, shrugging. “I’m very good with remembering things, which sounds like a stupid thing to say.” He laughed in spite of himself, touching his hair to make sure the style held in place. He never usually bothered, but he wanted very much for Biff to look at him and see… perfection. “But when you remember literally everything you come across, it makes things like brewing potions far easier. If you know the magical properties of the ingredients and the best way to extract their functions, you can find a way to combine them. Whether in a tablet, liquid, mist…” Sebastian gave Biff a bit of a grin. “I’m suddenly aware that I’m saying that it’s easy. It’s just something I’ve spent so much of my life on that it feels that way to me.” Tilting his head, he added, “It’s my question, McIntosh. Wait your turn.” With a wink and a chuckle, Sebastian said, “When was the last time you were on a date?”

'So you have a photographic memory. That's useful.' He hummed, topping up their wine glasses a second time. His next question had Biff echoing his chuckle before he rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. 'The last time I went on a date was July 8th 1982, so almost thirty-five years ago.' He answered honestly. 'I asked him. We went to see Seven Brides For Seven Brothers on the opening night at the Alvin Theatre.' He elaborated. Indulging in nostalgia was a guilty pleasure and a fond smile crossed his lips as his mind went back to that night. 'There's nothing I enjoy quite as much as live theatre. Before I came here, I made a point of seeing a show almost every week.' He grinned. 'What about you? Same question.' He prompted, eager to learn about what kind of dater Sebastian was.

Sebastian grinned. “A little bit? It’s not so much photographic. Probably closer to eidetic. But in all honestly, it’s my Skill. So it’s just magic. Nothing impressive.” When Biff delved into the details of his most recent date, Sebastian grinned. “That’s such a long time.” He tried to imagine how Biff had dressed in the eighties, but he couldn’t get a hold on it. “Him,” he echoed with a pleased smile. He hadn’t been sure of Biff’s sexuality, but it was good to know that he wasn’t just humoring Sebastian by being here. That perhaps an interest could be fostered. “We should go to a show,” he said casually. He quite enjoyed theatre. “I…” He hummed, trying to think. “I suppose that depends on what counts as a date. Madison and I went on a few dates, but that happened after we were an item. Before that? When I was a teenager. I went to the movies with an older boy I’d met at my fifteenth birthday party. It’s wasn’t quite a date, but wasn’t quite not-a-date either.” Chuckling, Sebastian asked, “Why haven’t you dated since then?”

'Him.' He repeated. 'That can't be surprising given I'm sitting here on a date with you, can it?' He teased fondly. 'There would have to be at least one other person with us but yes, we could go to a show.' He agreed, pleasantly surprised to have him make the suggestion. 'That baffles me.' He revealed, listening to him talk about Madison. 'The idea that you can get together with someone without dating them or courting them. It's a tradition from the past that I believe should be modernised and brought back.' He continued, recalling his own courting experiences. Why he hadn't had a date since then could take them down a path of slightly darker conversation but he'd been honest this far and saw no reason to change that. 'There's a few reasons I suppose. The first is obviously what I am. Without that potion, this conversation wouldn't flow nearly so nicely because you'd be frightened of me. That doesn't tend to foster a lot of positive relationships unless people are very determined to work past it.' He explained, taking a long drink of red before going on. 'Essentially, I'm immortal. We live for so long and we can only be killed by a very specific type of weapon and it's not all it's cracked up to be. I lost someone in the eighties; someone I loved more than I've ever loved anyone and it made me rethink getting too close to people. I mean theoretically I'd lost her years beforehand but this loss was more permanent obviously. I threw myself into work and thirty-five years went by.' He shrugged, forcing himself to smile a less than genuine smile. 'Your turn. What do you want to do after NYADA?' He asked, directing the subject away from dating and immortality.

Sebastian groaned, rolling his eyes. “I know that’s not your fault. Clearly. But it’s so fucking ridiculous. Like you need some sort of baby sitter. I just—“ he stopped himself, taking a deep breath through his nose. “I’m not going to go down that route; I don’t want to ruin the evening with annoyances. “We should go regardless.” As Biff addressed how his relationship with Madison began, Sebastian chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say that it happened that way because neither of us planned on the relationship part. We’d just been fooling around— not sex, but a lot of making out whatnot— and sort of learned we actually liked each other. She’d started out not liking me at all. I started out pursuing her brother.” With a grin, Sebastian repeated, “Courting? Oh my. What exactly does that even entail?” The aura had nearly left his mind, the potion fostering a false sense of normalcy for him. “Ah, right. That would be a hindrance.” He wondered what it would be like if Biff happened to find someone who’s family happened to have a talent for creating an item that aided immortality, or at least incredibly extended life. He didn’t voice the thought, instead sighing as the other explained about his loss. Sebastian had never been good at such situations. Empathy and support seemed frequently lost on him. Instead, he reached for Biff’s hand once more, giving it a tender squeeze, this time letting the touch linger. He smiled a bit, looking off into the distance at the next question. “Would you like for me to give you the textbook, expected answer? Or what I would do in a perfect world where no expectations were upheld?” He paused. “And that doesn’t count as my question, because I’m merely asking for clarification on yours.”

Sebastian's frustration on his behalf was satisfying. It was always satisfying to have someone who wasn't part of his community express anger at how they were treated; it validated how he felt and as sure as he was in his convictions, validation was always a welcome feeling. 'We should.' he agreed. It was non-committal; he wouldn't force Sebastian to make good on that, not when he knew how it could impact his life. He chuckled as the other man explained his relationship; it was a concept so bizarre to him and to hear it explained for frankly was amusing. 'I suppose it's like dating with more rules. You asked a girl's Father before you took her out, she had a curfew, your date was public because you didn't dare go somewhere that might cast doubt on her reputation.' he grinned. 'There are elements of it I don't like but the notion of wooing someone, trying to impress them more than you impress anyone else..' he shrugged and smiled. 'There's just something sweet about it.' Sebastian's hand felt warm over his own, comforting; he was content for it to stay there. He appreciated the fact that the Witch didn't try to offer some sort of sympathetic remark. He didn't need sympathy anymore; and his gesture said more than words could do. 'I want the honest answer.'

“Please,” Sebastian said, laughing. “If we go… well, I mean…” he sighed. “If we’re ever in another date-type scenario, please never reach out to my father about it. I quite like my head on my shoulders.” He smiled as Biff spoke about ‘wooing.’ Was that what he was doing? He was very much trying to impress Biff. He didn’t give a shit about impressing people normally, but here he was. He wondered if they’d be able to go out of the city, were they to have more dates in the future. To be able to have public dates where he wouldn’t be seen. Where his father wouldn’t be able to catch word. “I’d like to preface this by saying that if you mention it to anyone else, I’ll swear you’re a liar,” he laughed. “But, in a world where I wasn’t ravaged by expectations and demands, I’d want to be an artist.” Sebastian paused, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to be, actually. I’d already be one.” He brushed his thumb gently over Biff’s knuckles without much thought, the motion simply feeling good. And right. “I have another dragon question. I’m sorry, but I’m just so curious. How big would one of your scales be? Do they have any magical qualities? Do you shed them?”

'I rather like your head on your shoulders too so I'll be sure to take that advice and keep it close.' He grinned. He couldn't imagine the scandal that would erupt if he were to approach the Smythe family and announce his intention to court their son. It was an image so amusing that it pulled laughter from his lips. He raised his eyebrows, leaning forward slightly; interest obviously piqued by Sebastian's warning. 'An artist.' He echoed. He didn't say more; he had already decided he would use his follow up question to probe for more information on that particular passion. He refused to acknowledge the fact Sebastian brushing his thumb over is knuckles sparked shivers up his spine. It was an oddly intimate gesture and yet despite them not knowing one another well, it didn't feel intrusive or uncomfortable. 'You don't have to apologise for dragon questions. My scales are probably about the size of my hand.' He held up his free hand, fingers splayed wide to give a visual. 'And they're scratch proof and magic repellent. I'm pretty tough; I can only be killed by a weapon imbued with holy magic. Parts of a dragon are very valuable; it's why we've been hunted and why there are so few of us left. My scales, my fangs, my blood; they can all be used in various potions I believe. I imagine many Witches believe they can use them to strengthen their own magic but I don't buy into that. I don't shed them per say, but naturally there are times when they come loose but that's painless and they always grow back. When they do come loose like that, I keep them. There was a time when I used to take this form and sell a scale or two to get by.' he confessed. He was ashamed that he'd done that. Even saying it now, so many years later, left a bitter taste on his tongue but at the time, he hadn't had much choice. 'Tell me more about this dream of being an artist. What's really stopping you from going for it?'

Sebastian listened intently as Biff explained his scales. He was shocked when he offered the information of how to he’d need to be killed in dragon form; Sebastian hadn’t intended to ask because he didn’t want Biff to think he’d ever want or desire such knowledge. The idea of people hunting anything to use in a spell of potion both repulsed and angered him. “I suppose you could say I’m a vegan alchemist. I will no use and have no interest in brewing with parts of people or creatures. Most effects can be duplicated if you simple put in the work to find the correct combination to do so.” He tried to keep the harsh edge out of his voice, but didn’t succeed. “You should never murder something simply because you think it would benefit you.” Hastily he added, “And not you-you. The royal ‘you.’” When the tone in Biff’s voice changed, explaining how he used to have to sell scales. “That’s… hard. But never something I would judge you based upon, just so you’re aware. I do imagine it must have been difficult. If you have any laying around… I’d love to see one one day. I know that must sound weird, but I’m very much the person who…” he trailed off a bit. “When I go to museums, I want to touch everything. I want to pick the artifacts up, examine them, feel their history…” He sighed. “It’s completely unreasonable. Should everyone be able to do so, we’d have no artifacts left. They’d be a ruin of dropped items and dissolved by bodily oils.” Sebastian sighed softly at the next question, eyes cast down. “While the Smythe family disappointment couldn’t really sink much lower, I was long ago forbidden to do art, let alone weave any kind of magic into it. I mean really… someone from one of the oldest, most influential Bloodline families? An artist? They’d probably either have me carted off or locked up,” he laughed. “Can you… would you…” he sighed. “Will you tell me about Shakespeare? Not everything,” he amended. “I’m sure there has to be so much. But just… something. Anything?”

'I judge myself for it. Quite harshly. It's not something I readily admit to many people.' he elaborated. 'But at the time, I was transitioning from the way I had been living and everyone's got to make money somehow. That was the easiest way I could do it. I wouldn't say I regret it but it's not something I'm proud of.' he explained. Sebastian's tone was easy to read; the disgust at what he shared rolled off his tongue and it only cemented Biff's assessment that he was a good person and forced him to admit that he'd met yet another Bloodline who wasn't as terrible as he'd believed. 'I'm sure I have some tucked away somewhere. If you're interested, I don't mind showing you them. I'm something of a collector so if you ever wanted to examine some artifacts yourself, I'm sure I have something you'd be interested in.' he offered. He was protective of his treasure but only so much as to stop people stealing from him; he was very proud of his hoard and he delighted when the opportunity arose to share it with someone who seemed genuinely interested in it for what it was and not what it was worth. When his expression changed, it only felt natural to turn his hand over so he could hold Sebastian's across the table, returning the comforting squeeze he'd been offered earlier. 'I lived more than a century of my life living the way someone else told me I should. I did it because it's what I thought people wanted, what they expected. I don't think you going along with what your family wants will be quite as dark as when I did, but this is your life Sebastian. And you only get one of them. I think you should live it for yourself. And I'm not ignoring the difficulty of that. But you're worth more than your name y'know?' he reassured him, leaving the topic there. It wasn't one he felt comfortable pushing any further; not unless Sebastian wanted to talk more. The mood lightened with his next question, and Biff returned his smile. 'He was the best conversationalist I've ever met. You've read his work; you know how well he describes and expresses things. His humour never missed a beat. And he was perceptive in a way not many people are. He could read a room, read your mood; he learned very quickly to pick up on his friends nuances and quirks so he always knew the best way to respond to you.' he answered excitedly. 'He was an unendingly thrilling character to be around. I hold him in very high regard.' He trailed off, momentarily lost in his own memories.

He held his tongue, choosing not as to ask the question that plagued him. Why the hell had Biff told him then? He wondered, only briefly, if perhaps they were feeling the same level of comforts. Sebastian was shocked how easy it was to talk to Biff. Maybe he was feeling the same way? “I’m incredibly interested,” he smiled. “On all fronts.” The scales, the artifacts, the man himself. His stomach flipped as their hands moved, Biff’s now covering his own. He smiled sadly. “I know I should. I don’t know that I’ll ever be brave enough to. It’s not something that’s really built into us. Politicians that hate politics. Slayers that don’t want to slay. Children raised thinking that happiness, love, and dreams are only fairy tales…” Sebastian shrugged. A grin slowly spread from ear to ear as Biff spoke of his old friend. “How incredible,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I’m incomparably jealous. That had to be so wonderful, getting to experience him.” Laughing softly, Sebastian added, “getting to have original fucking copies. I can’t even imagine.” After a pause, he added, “It’s your question, by the way.”

'Change only happens when someone makes it happen Sebastian. If you want something, go after it. What's the worst that could happen?' The question was rhetorical and he knew the pain of losing your family all too well but he couldn't help but wonder what kind of family would restrict their child in the way Sebastian seemed to feel restricted. 'Don't be. The sixteenth century was a most disgusting time to be alive. You didn't miss much.' he chuckled. 'I want to know what you would do if you were given the opportunity to change your affinity; would you? What would you change it to if you did?'

“That’s a very McCarthy thing to say, honestly,” he said with a laugh. “They’re always telling me essentially that we need to be the change we want to see in our generation. They’re not wrong, but it’s not easy.” When asked what was the worst that could happen, he chuckled darkly. “There was a distant Smythe cousin in the early nineties who’d decided to pursue her passion of dancing. She and her girlfriend went skiing in the Swiss Alps one winter and were never found. Could it have been a coincidence? Certainly. Do I believe it was? Not in this lifetime, nor any other. Not only was she pursuing a liberal career, but also a homosexual love interest. My family believes you can fuck whomever you want as long as it’s not an officially declared relationship. And you will have a heterosexual marriage and produce offspring to further the line. So, to answer your question simply, they could literally have me offed.” He laughed again as Biff mentioned the repulsion that was the sixteenth century. “Allow me to rephrase: visiting would be fun.” He thought about the next question for a moment, just now noticing that Biff had topped off their wine glasses. He murmured a thank you with a small smile as he took a sip. “I… that’s a hard question. I’m quite fond of the Earth. Fire… it’s destructive. It’s hot and lethal. I think I’d like to be able to feel the strength of the trees and hear the whispers of the grass, were I given the opportunity. But I can’t promise I’d want to make the switch without a test drive. Fire is just—“ he cut himself off abruptly. “That reminds me! I have pie. Would you like pie?” Another pause. “I’m aware that those things seem unrelated. I promise they’re not.” He laughed, flushing a bit. “It’s a trick I’ve just learned with the pie. A little bit of magic? It involves my affinity.”

'Well the McCarthys talk sense sometimes. Saying things like that would be one of them.' He almost flinched at the notion that Sebastian's family could have him offed. That was such a foreign idea to add to what he believed a family was and he quickly came to the conclusion that what Sebastian had wasn't really a family at all. More laughter left his lips when Sebastian cut himself off to excitedly announce that he had pie. 'I don't think I've ever turned down dessert and I don't intend to start doing so now.' he answered brightly. 'Show me your party trick.' he enthused.

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head, giving Biff’s hand a final, gentle squeeze before he stood and headed for the cupboards. He got out two small plates and two clean forks, taking them over to the table. “Look, this is going to be pitiful. But I’m not experience with kitchen magic at all, so just pretend you’re impressed, okay?’ He joked, smiling to Biff. He went to the fridge and grabbed the pie, topped with a blob if unattractive, unfinished meringue. Carefully, Sebastian walked over to the table, setting the pie down and taking a deep breath. He’d practiced hard a dozen times. If Adam could do this, he should be able to, right? Holding the palm of his hand over the pie, face serious and clenched in concentration, Sebastian casted. <<Dollop,>> he said, watched as the pie was bathed in the deep red glow of his circle. He concentrated on the molecules of each ingredient, urging them to reshape. He smiled as the meringue shifted into neat little peaks, albeit slowly. The next spell followed closely after, just as short and sweet; he’d never been one for wordy casting. <<Fire.>> A small pool of fire blossomed in his palm, licking up the sides of his hand. He moved in a slow rotation over the pie, only dismissing the fire when the top had turned a nice golden brown. “I know you mentioned liking citrus, so it’s lemon. I hope that’s okay.”

He never felt the cold; it was one of the many perks of being what he was but his hand definitely felt cooler once it was no longer entwined with Sebastian's. He was confident he would be impressed; just the idea that someone would go to the length of learning a new skill for the purpose of impressing him was impressive. Watching magic up close never failed to be something utterly captivating and truth be told, kitchen magic was something he'd witnessed a great deal of which served to make Sebastian's party trick all the more so. He clapped his hands lightly; both teasing and to acknowledge he was genuinely delighted; and he inclined his head towards the witch as he spoke. 'That was fantastic!' He declared. 'And that's more than okay. It's my favourite.' He assured him. He didn't need to speak to invoke his own magic but he used his manipulation of air currents to pick up their dinner plates and carry them across the room before lightly placing them in the kitchen; it was partially a natural reaction and partially because he wanted to show off a little too. 'I think I'm more excited for this than the chicken. I hope you're not disappointed in indulging me.' He remarked, looking across the table to meet his gaze.

Sebastian blushed lightly, rolling his eyes as Biff clapped for him. He watched with a bit of awe as their plates lifted and soared neatly into the kitchen. “Aether, you’re amazing,” he smiled before turning to cut the pie. He did so as neatly as he could, letting out a breath when it held its shape. He placed it carefully on Biff’s plate and slid it toward him, serving himself a piece as well. Laughing softly, he said, “Of course I’m not. I’ve had a wonderful time indulging you. I wanted to make sure I did just that. I hope it’s been successful so far?” Chuckling, he picked up his fork, waiting for Biff to take the first bit. He bit his lip nervously, hoping so much that the stupid thing tasted as good as it looked.

'I feel thoroughly indulged and thoroughly impressed.' He said seriously. He was a little overwhelmed by the lengths Sebastian had gone to and on the simplest level, it felt good to be wanted. It felt good for someone to actively seek out his company, to spend time with someone who wanted to know more about him and didn't shy away from asking him questions directly. 'You'll hurt yourself doing that.' He warned lightly, nodding his head as though the gesture at the way he'd pulled his lip under his teeth. He took a forkful of the dessert and savoured the taste before giving him a grin. 'You've nothing to worry about. It's delicious!' He announced, forcing himself to eat politely and not devour it the way he often did with sweet treats.

Sebastian grinned, ducking his head. When Biff chastised him for biting his lip, he shook his head and stopped, glancing back up at him. “I’m glad you like it,” he said shyly, shrugging and finally taking bite. “Oh!” He said after he swallowed. It actually was good. He needed to write Adam a strongly worded thank you note. “I’m so glad you like it. You can have as much as you want. Even take the leftovers home when you go.” Grinning, he added, “not that I’m quite ready for you to leave yet. Just that you’re welcome to as much pie as you’d like.”

Dessert was undoubtably his favourite meal of the day. He wouldn't describe himself as having a sweet tooth for chocolate or candy but when it came to pastries and baked goods, he was a goner. 'I have every intention of taking the pie with me when I go.' He agreed, 'but I'm glad you don't want rid of me just yet.' He smiled. He continued to eat his dessert; a question on the tip of his tongue that eventually came tumbling out. 'So I have to ask why you asked me on a date in the first place? Especially given what you've said about your family.' His voice was a little softer and he was very aware that this could sound like he was digging for compliments or that he was being overly nosy but he felt he couldn't leave without asking. 'Don't get me wrong; I'm now quite glad that you did but I just don't know that my devilishly good looks are enough of a reason.'

“Good,” he grinned. “It’s yours.” He ate the pie happily, pleased that everything was going so well. He thought for a while before answering, knowing that this was important. It was going to be a hard thing to address, but the tone of Biff’s voice made him think that the answer was incredibly important. “I know you’re familiar with politics. My father recently lost his UMC seat. I had a very rough few weeks, but now I’m sort of accepting that... I mean, perhaps I can find a little more wiggle room? Now he’s just the owner of Smythe & Co. I may have a bit more freedom. And… I mean, I was instantly attracted to you, regardless of the fact that you pissed me off,” he teased. “But I sort of found myself starting to get drawn in. So, I ignored it for several months. And then saw an opportunity. So I jumped. I just… it’s like you said. I don’t want to watch my life pass me by.”

'I suppose that's as good a reason as any.' he responded. 'I was just curious because my experience of many of the old families is that they don't want to associate with LNs in general; nevermind one who's so outspoken.' He wasn't entirely prepared to reveal his own prejudices against Bloodlines; nor was he prepared to insult Sebastian by telling him his initial agreement had been something of a joke. That motivation had changed very quickly once they'd started talking. 'And given what you said about your desire to keep your head on your shoulders..' He trailed off before looking up at him with a smile. 'I think the fact that you're doing something for you because you want it is admirable. It's not easy to go against things that you've been taught your whole life.' He had developed a new kind of respect for the man sitting in front of him; he made the decision to take him at his word throughout the evening and what he'd said had left Biff feeling suitably impressed.

”So outspoken,” he chuckled. “And you’re not wrong. They’re incredibly against any association. I can think of one friend I’m guaranteed to lose, should I decide to tell her about this.” Sebastian sighed softly at the thought, deciding not to linger on it. “I was taught these things for an incredibly long time, that’s true. But when I started partying, I learned that doing so in seedier, non-Bloodline exclusive places allowed me to avoid paparazzi and people I knew. Those places also included LNs and New Ages. It took me many years to realize that if I could be comfortable when I was shitfaced around them, I could at least attempt to do so sober. It’s harder for me personally with New Ages. Generally speaking, though, it was incredibly important that my parents and the community never believed I thought such things. I had a Smythe image to keep up after all…” Sebastian bit his lip again, glancing up to meet Biff’s eyes. “We used to have another person like you here, whom I actually worked with closely during a field studies a while back. At that point I got more curious about your kind. About you.” Sebastian shrugged. “I’m not saying that this is the best choice I’ve ever made for my life. But for me right now and what I want? I think I could have done far worse.”

Folklaur: He wanted to kiss him. In that moment; when he looked up at him, lip pulled under his teeth, he wanted to kiss him. It was a combination of things. It was the simple fact that Sebastian was physically attractive. It was the elements of his passion he'd revealed. It was the fact that he was brave enough to make the decision to do something he wanted. It was hearing that he did it despite the potential negative fallout. He didn't; he wasn't sure how appropriate it would be right at this moment in time. The conversation almost seemed too serious for something like that. 'I feel the same way. I can think of more than a few people who would be absolutely horrified at the fact that I'd give a Bloodline the time of day.' he empathised. 'There are people on both sides of the spectrum who really feel that the other side are the worst types of people you can be.' He felt like this subject was a tense one; he didn't want to talk Sebastian out of having dinner with him, out of being on a date with him and so he moved to change the subject slightly. 'What's your favourite type of food?' he asked, feeling almost ridiculous for moving to something so light.

Sebastian blinked, a bit confused. He supposed that it made sense that Biff would have family and friends that would be horrified that he’d went on a date with a privileged moron. Smirking in spite of himself, he nodded. “I think… the problem truly lies in the fact that my people have earned that reputation. Yours was founded on fear and the unknown.” He smiled as Biff changed the subject less than subtly, but was happy to move away from what felt like a discussion about the flaws of their current situation. “I love…” he sighed, smiling. “When I was a child, everything I ate was essentially ‘fancy.’” He put air quotes around the word, wrinkling his nose as he did. “So I never enjoyed things like grilled cheeses and pizza and boxed snack foods. Now, I love that shit. I could live on chicken tenders and macaroni and cheese and be a happy man. Sort of like, now that I’m an adult? I’m enjoying all the things I never got to when I was younger. Aether, that sounds even lamer when I say it out loud.”

'It doesn't sound lame at all.' he chuckled. It was refreshing to hear the change in Sebastian's tone. It was, dare he admit it, adorable. 'That is one of the few joys in being an adult; you can eat what you want, when you want. My problem is that if I exclusively ate that way, I think bakeries around the country would go out of business. I could eat my weight many times over in pastries and tarts.' he informed him. His slice of pie was finished and as tempting as it was to go for a second slice, he was quite confident the button of his trousers would pop should he attempt it. 'It's been a really long time since someone cooked for me Sebastian. This was all delicious. Thank you.'

Sebastian laughed, unsure if Biff was being honest of just humoring him. Either way, it was kind. Chuckling, he said, “I”m happy to learn to bake more things.” He left the comment open ended and unexplained. Would he learn to bake more for himself? For Biff? For no reason what so ever? He didn’t elaborate. “Honestly, I’m just glad you like it,” he said softly, shrugging. “I don’t do things like this, so knowing that it was worth while makes me feel less awkward about it. And… you’re welcome. I’m incredibly sorry that it had to be here, though. I do wish I could have taken you out, done something more… dateish.” He gave Biff a warm smile, curiosity getting the better of him before he could stop himself. “When was the last time someone cooked for you?”

He wondered if the unsaid end to his offer to learn to bake more things was ''for you.'' It was a fleeting thought; one he couldn't take seriously but it was nice to imagine that someone might want to do something like that for him. 'Don't be sorry that it had to be here. ' he insisted, reaching across the table to take his hand. 'This was wonderful and perfectly dateish.' he teased, echoing Sebastian's invented word. 'The last time someone cooked for me like this; in a dinner for two type of setting was probably in the twenties.' he answered, unable to provide an exact date. 'I mean, I've obviously been to dinner parties where someone has cooked but it's never been specifically for me, y'know?' he explained.

Sebastian smiled a bit as Biff took his hand, head tilted slightly as Biff explained the answer to his question. To him, it seemed insane. He knew, given their previous discussion earlier in the evening, that dating had to be hard. But how had no one pushed passed that? He wanted to suggest that Biff get used to it, that he’d like for it to happen more, but he held his tongue. “How often can you brew that potion? The one for your aura?” He asked curiously, with a bit of a playful smile, eyebrows raised. “Asking for a friend.”

'Well, you can tell your friend that I don't brew it unfortunately. It's on sale at the JIH market until Santana and I are given further information about the patent.' he answered, feeling something akin to butterflies. No, not butterflies. That would be ridiculous and it would suggest that he had a crush on Sebastian. He was entirely too old for those sort of shenanigans.

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "That's ridiculous. That's your brew! I--" he faltered, groaning. "It's not my business, but that's stupid." Pausing, he asked, "what kind of DNA did you put in it?" He just barely stopped himself from making a Harry Potter reference, fairly confident it would have been lost on his guest. "I have that curious friend, you know."

'Oh, it's not the end of the world. It was developed for a school competition so I suppose they have some rights over it in the short term.' He shrugged, puffing out a sigh. 'Hair.' He answered. 'It sounds rather revolting to talk about but it's the easiest thing to add. Is your friend satisfied?' He teased.

"I would be livid if I'd spent time on something like that just to...." he shook his head. "I take my brews very seriously." At the explanation, Sebastian couldn't help but snort, trying to suppress his laugh. "From... from what part of you?" He asked with a bright smile.

'From my head Ass!' He retorted, feigning frustration as he shook his head. He couldn't hold the the look for long and a smile broke through. 'Just you thank your lucky stars I gave it to you. You'd be miserable right now if I hadn't.' He laughed. 'If your friend is interested in acquiring a potion or two, let them know I know a guy.' He teased.

Sebastian still laughed, grin growing as Biff smiled at him. "I'm incredibly grateful. But I would have pushed through." He gave him a look that bordered on affectionate for the briefest of moments before catching himself and hurriedly looking away. "I'll definitely pass the information along."

He couldn't tell him how much that meant to him. He felt exceptionally grateful any time someone was willing to push through the uncomfortableness that came with his aura but it sounded different coming from Sebastian. He was willing to push through for a date; something that wasn't a necessary thing. 'You mentioned something earlier.' He remarked, feeling more nervous than he really had any right to feel about something so small. 'About wanting to kiss me. You should know that that feeling is mutual.' He didn't blush but he did duck his head before looking back up at Sebastian. 'Do with that what you will. I just thought you should know.'

Sebastian's heart leapt into his damn throat as Biff spoke again. "Yeah?" Eloquent. Charming. Idiot. He cleared his throat, nervously running a hand through his hair. It didn't cross his mind that it would ruin the careful styling he'd done, leaving it sticking up and mussed entirely. "I mean, yes. Good. That's good to hear. And exactly... how much longer do I have to wait before I can do just that? There's probably etiquette here I don't know that you are familiar with."

He was almost reluctant to let go of Sebastian's hand but he did so only so he could stand and pull his chair round so that he no longer sat opposite Sebastian, but next to him. His heart was hammering entirely too quickly in his chest and it didn't make sense but frankly he was beyond the point of caring to make it make sense. 'I don't see any point in waiting for something we both want y'know. Life's short.' He teased lightly, hesitantly before he brought his hand up to cup Sebastian's cheek and turned his face towards him. He didn't need to say anything else; he didn't have anymore to say and so he just closed the distance between them and caught Sebastian's lips in a very light, very chaste kiss.

Sebastian watched Biff carefully, wide eyed as he moved around. "Life's short for some of us," he whispered with a bit of a smile. The first kiss had him a bit surprised and hesitant, but he then moved to cover Biff's hand where it touched his cheek. Sebastian pressed their lips together again, not fire and passion, but a low, sweet heat. It felt so wonderful, like nothing and everything he'd imagined all at once. As if his affinity had lit a soft fire in his chest, the heat blooming through him slowly. It was hard not to smile, lips otherwise occupied.

He could feel his stomach flip as he pressed closer to Sebastian; and allowed his eyes to fall closed. He felt inexplicably light; the way he'd felt earlier in the evening except now it was amplified. He hadn't seen the evening going like this; it had never remotely crossed his mind that he would ever kiss Sebastian Smythe and now it felt like the only sensible thing he could do. He pulled back; but didn't create too much distance between them and puffed out a breath. 'You're as good at that as you are at cooking.' he teased, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.

His face warmed up nearly instantly, rolling his eyes a bit as he flushed. “Hopefully a little better? I’m pretty new at cooking.” Chuckling, Sebastian, shook his head a bit. “I can’t believe you even said yes to this ridiculous date. And now you’ve let me kiss you. I’m putting this in the ‘win’ column,” he teased, bumping his nose gently against Biff’s. “I know it’s getting late. I know you probably have to go soon. But I can’t let you leave without pressing my luck just a little further. I know I’ll kick myself later if I don’t ask.” He paused, allowing a bit more space between them. “Would you be interested in doing this again? Not this,” he said quickly, gesturing between them where they still sat closely. “Well, also this? But another date? Y’know… with me?”

He brushed his thumb against Sebastian's cheek, and grinned. 'I'm suddenly seeing the appeal behind adorable.' He remarked casually. He wasn't quite surprised when a second date became something that was on the table. Part of him had hoped for it, part of him had expected it. The evening had gone well and the only thing that might prevent them was Sebastian's commitment to his family. He stole another kiss before nodding his agreement. 'I'd very much enjoy another date.' He confessed. 'Especially if it's with you.'

Sebastian shivered as Biff stroked his cheek gently, leaning into the touch. Before he was able to come up with a witty retort, Biff had kissed him again and all of the sass flew right out of his mind. And he'd said yes. "Good," he replied with a smile. As he started thinking of dates, his face fell slightly. "There is something I want to be honest with you about, if that's okay?"

He arched his eyebrow at the sudden change in his expression. 'Is this the moment you tell me it's all a joke?' He teased. He had considered that was a possibility when Sebastian first asked him out but it wasn't something he seriously believed now. 'Of course you can be honest. What's wrong?' He prompted.

Sebastian chuckled a bit and shook his head. "Of course not, genius. That's more than clear." He took a moment to kiss Biff once more, softly, for emphasis. "The new kid-- Damien? He and I have some kind of date tomorrow. Not like date-date," he added, gesturing between the two of them. "But a casual lunch thing that he requested to be a date. I'd sort of pursued the whole thing when I was certain you were going to laugh in my face," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "But I want to make it very clear: I want to see where this goes. I like you."

He wasn't sure what he'd expected Sebastian to reveal but it hadn't been that. He shook his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. 'That's not something you have to tell me or explain to me.' He assured him gently. 'This was dinner; a date and one I look forward to repeating but we're not exclusively together. I'm not going to be upset if you want to go on a date with someone else.' He promised him seriously.

"Aether, you're amazing. Since getting here, I've gotten into so many... mix ups like that. People suddenly under the assumption that we're betrothed because we had dinner." Sebastian chuckled a bit. "But that aside, I wanted you to hear it from me, now, and risk it not affecting anything that could potentially happen between us down the line."

'Don't worry. I'm not expecting you to put a ring on my finger.' He laughed, only able to imagine the situations he'd found himself in. 'I appreciate your honesty. Don't be afraid to tell me things like that. I'm not gonna be upset or angry.' He did appreciate the fact that he'd been honest even though he wasn't sure how he would react; honesty was the most important part of any relationship, friendship or otherwise, in his opinion. He huffed a sigh and held Sebastian's gaze. 'It's late. I should really be going.' Despite his words, he didn't make any attempt to get up and leave.

What a thought: Sebastian actually getting married. And to a fucking dragon. His family would go ballistic. The thought made him smile a bit, sighing softly. He didn't want Biff to leave, but it didn't seem like he was too eager either. "Theoretically, I guess. I'm a little reluctant for that time to come." He chuckled and leaned in, brushing his lips over Biff's again. "I'm having such a remarkable time."

There was something entirely too playful and innocent about the whole exchange. Part of him believed devoting any time to 'dating' or social activities of this nature would only distract him from what his goals were but there was part of him, a part that he kept fairly hidden, that absolutely craved company, craved building real connections with people however unexpected they might be. 'As reluctant as we both are, I think it might be best to call it a night while we're ahead.' His voice wasn't nearly as insistent as he'd have liked it to be. 'C'mon. You can walk me to the door.'

“You’re the most unconvincing person I’ve ever met,” Sebastian teased. Smiling, he still stood, taking Biff’s hand and pulling him up for his chair. He wondered silently what they were staying ahead of, but didn’t press the matter. All good things had to come to the end, this night being one of them. But it was with promise of more to come. A million things went through his head. This was the best date he’d been on… ever. He was already excited for the next one. Just ten more minutes? He held his tongue on all. Sebastian led Biff to the kitchen and began to carefully wrap up the pie, covering it in plastic wrap and tucking it around the dish securely. “This is for you,” he smiled, moving them toward the door. “I’m truly glad you enjoyed it. Not just the pie… the evening, as well.”

Given that he didn't have much left to lose in terms of maintaining any air of mystery or aloofness, he paused by the door and slid his arm around Sebastian's waist and drew him in close. He kissed him again; a little more than before, more than a hesitant press of his lips. 'Until our next date Sebastian.' He hummed, smiling brightly as he pulled back. 'I insist you let me plan the next one.'

Sebastian grinned like a fool when Biff pulled him closer and draped an arm over his shoulder. He leaned into the kiss, humming softly as he did. “Well, if you’re insisting, I’m not going to tell you no.” Chuckling softly, he pulled Biff just a bit closer for one last, lingering kiss. “Let me know when you want that date. And have a good night.”

#bless your beautiful dragon hide

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lunarmadison · 8 years ago

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where do we glow from here | mctwins (feb 28)

Who: Mason @solarmason & Madison McCarthy @lunarmadison When: Tuesday, February 28 Where: Boreas Park > Avicenna Hospital > Boreas Park What: Between glowing in the dark and not sleeping, Madison hasn’t been okay for a few days. Mason convinces her to get herself checked out. Warnings: Hospitals, non-invasive medical checkup

Mason knocks on Madison's door, a nervous energy buzzing through him; Madison had slept the night before, but that was only a surface fix, and there was clearly something deeper at work.

Madison is seated on her bed, with notes and cards scattered around her as she cross-references her study guides with the texts and handouts. Midterms are going to be terrible unless she really gets a handle on this. She jumps a little at the knock, and calls out, "It's open!"

Mason opens the door and tilts his head at the image before him. It's not exactly unusual - marathon study sessions aren't exactly unusual for people who had as hard a time holding onto info as they did. But Mason didn't trust it. "Hey, Mads. You ready for Twin Tuesday?"

Madison looks up and nods, giving her brother a small, hopeful smile. "Just gimme one more second," she says. "I need to make sure that I have all the North American cryptids separated from the European ones..." She shuffles a few more piles of cards, and then once she's satisfied with her selections, wraps rubberbands around both stacks. "Alright! All set. Cryptozoology has been ... not nearly as much a headache as alchemy, but still pretty fun, oddly enough. I'd love to share my notes with you if you're interested." She closed the book and set the cards on top of it, then set the whole pile aside before sliding off the bed to join Mason. "Where're we going today?"

Mason smiled brightly, pulling her into a one armed hug. "Welllllll," Mason began. He'd considered lying or tricking her, but not only could he not pull that off, she deserved better. "I'm thinking that, just to make me personally feel better and be able to actually, y'know, relax," Mason said, "we could....Maybe....gotothehospital?" Mason grinned winningly down at her. "Please? I'm worried. I'll bring your notes and I'll quiz you while they do their tests. Please, Mads?"

Madison sighs deeply and looks up at Mason with a kind of irritated boredom. "Mase, I don't need to go to the hospital," she insists, and tugs a long sleeve down over one arm to hide the fact that her arm is, in fact, still purple. "I'll leave the studying and do something fun, I promise. I even have it blocked out in my schedule."

Mason caught her hands, keeping her close. "You have the time blocked off already. If they say it's nothing, we can do whatever you want! Please? I love you, and you know I'd much rather just goof around, but..." Mason hesitated, chewing on the edge of his lip. "Everything else is going wrong. I can't let it go wrong with you too, Madi, I can't let you be hurt. Especially when you took such care of me with the whole...fiddle thing. Please. Just for my own peace of mind. And then seriously whatever you want."

Madison sighed again, rolling her eyes. "Fine. I'll go, but ... it's not going to be anything. I feel fine. I even slept!" She pressed her lips together and looked back to the bed. "I'm going to bring my notes though, okay? Just in case. Otherwise I'm going to want to crawl out of my skin sitting there, if ..." If it's not nothing, she meant to finish, but it was nothing, so it didn't matter. "Well, just in case."

Mason nodded and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, Madi, I love you." Mason grabbed her things, including her Book and the notes from the alchemy experiment. "You're fine," he agreed, offering her coat to her. "So think about your bribe for once they clear you. Okay?" Mason smiled winningly. "Whatever you want."

Madison laughed despite her irritation. "Oh, you are gonna owe me big time," she teased, and slipped into her coat. She wound a scarf around her neck and shouldered her bag. "I know this all looks ... weird. But I really do feel better since -- since I got some sleep."

Mason nodded and wrapped his arm back around her shoulder. "It's almost like sleep is necessary for feeling good. And for feeling alive." Mason teased before he kissed her temple. They left Madison's room and began to walk toward the hospital, Mason already feeling better. "Cryptozoology, huh?"

Madison leaned into Mason's arm, glad for the comfort that his touch gave. "It's interesting," she said. "I thought it'd be a good supplement to the Slaying courses; if we learn more about what we're up against, then all the better, right? There's a little bit of history and sociology, but it's mostly biology, and that's harder to keep straight. I don't know what possessed me to do two sciences again this semester when only one of them is required, and nothing ..." She hesitated, searching for the word; she knew what she wanted to say but she felt like she would betray herself if she did. "I mean, last semester I took that art class, and I don't have anything like that this time."

Mason nodded, considering as she spoke. In his head, Cryptozoology was unerringly linked to Ryder, which gave him all sorts of complicated feelings that he didn't have time to deal with. "Anything just for fun," Mason filled in knowingly. "I'd like the notes. I've thought about looking into that before," Mason admitted. "You should take another art class. Are you still in Art Club, Mads?"

Madison nodded eagerly. "I am! I like having that time set aside to draw or paint and show off my work and get critiques. It's not the same as the class, and it's a lot more laid back, but it's ..." There was that word again. "... fun." She felt a little ashamed even admitting that she allowed herself to have something that frivolous when she should be working harder, spending that time doing something with more purpose and meaning. "Maybe over the summer, if there's time? I was going to get more requirements out of the way, but I don't want to graduate /too/ far ahead of you." She smirked, teasing, and nudged him in the side.

Mason scoffed, shaking his head. "Dream on. You're only getting your diploma first because of the alphabet." Mason pouted playfully. "I'm glad you're doing something like that, Mads. You need to relax sometimes." Mason hesitated as they approached the hospital. "You don't have to be doing something all the time, you know?" Mason half-smiled; he'd learned that from Sebastian. "Now. C'mon. Let's get you checked out."

Madison followed just a half-step behind Mason. She didn't agree with what he said; especially after they'd gotten their memories back, she couldn't really let her mind rest for a moment without her thoughts inevitably drifting back to that night. "That's what you think," she teased with a wry laugh. "Resting is for suckers."

Mason shook his head. "Resting is for healthy people. You're gonna burn yourself out." Mason didn't put any heat into the words - it didn't matter if she agreed with him or not; he was checking her in as he spoke. He guided them back over to the waiting room and pulled open her notes. "Where do you have what you were supposed to be doing for..." Mason gestured to her arms. "I mean. When this happened. About that."

Madison hummed as she thought back to the day it had happened. She'd barely been aware of herself, which had obviously not led to great results. "Alchemy's the blue notebook," she said. "It would have been ... one of the more recent pages, and written in purple ink." She chuckled, and shook her head at herself. "Ironically enough. It's supposed to be a protection solution that you can put in a spray bottle. It's -- there's a tincture, the herbal component, that we were supposed to do at home, and add the part that we made in class to it to finish it off."

Mason nodded as he flipped through the blue notebook; he wondered if the color was a purposeful connection to Sebastian - his favorite color, his specialty. He hadn't dared to talk about what was going on between them - he'd thought that either Madison was over it, or that she'd talk to him when she needed to. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe if he hadn't thought that, she wouldn't be in the hospital. "If you could find a way to mitigate the negative side-effects this could be an equally cool potion," Mason mused as he studied the pages and the ingredients. He'd learned from his AMATs that failure depended entirely on perspective and expectations - he didn't entirely believe the logic, but it was a comforting thought nonetheless. "It could be a handy nightlight, or a marking system for underground areas."

Madison raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah," she said. "That's why I entered something that was supposed to do this in the Masterwitch tournament. Sam and I thought it would be really cool. But that was supposed to be drunk, not topical, and it was only supposed to last a couple hours, tops." She turned her hand over in front of her eyes, examining the way that the luminescent lines seemed to spread over her whole skin like shining spiderwebs. "Come to think of it, the methodology is kinda the same -- we made it by adding this bioluminescent moss, uh, puree, I guess, to an herbal tincture."

Mason nodded quickly as she spoke, mentally retreating; nevermind that they were in the hospital to get her screwup fixed, he shouldn't point her flaws. He was saved from answering her because a nurse came over to them; he stood quickly and explained the situation, falling back as the nurse's eyes landed on Madison. "I guess there's not just a potion or a spell you can do to fix it?" Mason tried hopefully, but the nurse shook his head. 'Not without running some tests,' he replied, then glanced at his clipboard. 'Follow me, Miss McCarthy.' And then he led them to a private room, Mason bringing up the rear.

Madison took a seat on the table in the examination room. "I swear, I feel fine," she insisted, but the nurse shook his head and flipped a page on the clipboard all the same. 'That's a good start,' he said, 'but we still need to see about those arms.' As far as maladies went, Madison reasoned it was probably pretty tame, but she allowed herself to be subjected to the usual examination of her vitals, which revealed that she was more or less within normal parameters, but her heart rate was slightly elevated, and her temperature was a little high. It warranted further investigation, which meant that the twins got to sit together while the nurse ducked out to get the necessary equipment. Madison sighed as she looked back to Mason, kicking her feet nervously. "I still feel fine," she told him. "But ... thanks. Y'know, for looking out for me."

Mason frowned as the nurse spoke but stayed quiet until he left, then let out a soft sigh and looked back her. "'Course, Madi. I'm not about to let my favorite sister be a walking grape popsicle," he teased, but there was genuine concern there. "Especially with..." Mason gestured vaguely. "Everything going on. You don't need to thank me for doin' my job, Mads, especially when you did way more work when it was me and the hex." Mason shrugged one shoulder and dropped his gaze, kicking at nothing with his toe. He wasn't overly worried--the nurse hadn't rushed her off or called a quarantine or anything, but... "Thanks for not putting up too big a fight. I was prepared to literally drag you here if I had to."

Madison laughed softly, shaking her head. "Nah, you wouldn't have to drag me," she said fondly. "I guess ..." She looked down at her purple arms, hesitating as she tried to fit all the right words together. "I think ... I knew that I needed to come here to fix it, even if it meant admitting my mistakes. And I wouldn't want you to fight me on something like this if the situation were reversed."

Mason nodded, picking absently at his bracelet. "We're not so good at that," Mason mused, pulling one leg to his chest. "Admitting when we screw up." Mason smiled a little wryly. "Or we are, but we're not good at dealing with it." Mason chuckled a little wryly, free hand brushing his hair back. It was getting longer again. He stayed quiet for a long minute, then let out a soft sigh. "I really am sorry for the things I said. When I was hexed."

Madison shook her head at Mason. "That wasn't you," she insisted -- and then caught herself being on the defensive. "I mean -- thank you. That hex ... it got pretty much everyone I care about, this time around. At least when Quinn and I were affected by that pollen, you had help organizing everyone. And people listened to you." She chewed her lip thoughtfully; there was more to that, and Madison didn't know if now was the time to delve into it. "Besides, we got you fixed up!" she continued jovially, just a touch too bright, her smile a little too wide. "I've got my brother back, and that's what's important."

Mason pursed his lips slightly--there was something off, that same slightly frenetic energy that had been bothering Mason. He'd would feel so much better when the doctor or whoever came back and fixed his sister. "And soon I'll have my sister back," Mason returned, scratching the back of his neck. Maybe one day they'd have a period of time where neither of them needed fixing. Someday. He didn't want to tell her that it had still been him - everything they'd done under the hex had still been them. It was still Mason, just...meaner. And that was something he'd have to come to terms with, sooner or later. "You think we'll ever have a dull moment around here?"

Madison laughed wryly. "I wonder," she said. "I think with a group of friends and acquaintances as big as ours, something's always bound to be going on, one way or another. But I think we'll get better at adapting to it. We're all learning after all, right?" The door swung open, then, and the nurse wheeled a cart in stacked with materials: potions, salves, crystals, and scientific medical equipment. Madison steeled herself for whatever procedure awaited her, and offered a big, bold smile to the nurse. "That ... looks like a lot of stuff," she said, but the nurse assured her that it would be fine. 'Don't worry,' he said, and picked up one of the crystals, his magic circle activating as he passed it over Madison's arms, studying the smooth surface for a diagnosis. 'Looks like you had a couple potions interact,' he deduced. 'And maybe not enough rest?' Madison pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands, answering by not answering.

Mason sat up a little straighter as the nurse came in, eying the table doubtfully. Definitely did not look good, but Mason kept calm. They knew what they were doing. "Definitely not enough rest," Mason huffed. "She didn't sleep for three days." Mason filled in, crossing his arms. "And even before this happened, she doesn't know how to relax." Mason didn't even care if he'd get in trouble for ratting her out. One of the things they needed to learn was when to take a breather, right?

Madison 's eyes widened as her attention snapped to her brother. "Mason!" she chided. Any fluctuations in her temperature now could easily be attributed to embarrassment rather than any particular medical condition. But even she had to admit that he was right. That was even the first thing that Éabha had tried to teach her. "Alright, so I was awake for three or four days," she admitted, eliciting a 'hmm' from the nurse that didn't sound too good. "I slept last night," Madison continued, "and I'm going to keep sleeping. I promise." The nurse didn't seem too satisfied with that response, though, and set the crystal down, to pick up one bottle from among many on the cart. 'This should help with the color,' he said. 'Apply it topically twice a day. Morning and night'll work. And I also want you to go to the healing pools within the next twenty-four hours. Come back tomorrow for a follow-up, alright?' Madison accepted the salve and nodded, then the nurse pointed to Mason. 'You. Brother, right? Make sure she does this, okay?'

Mason nodded as he was pointed out. "For sure," Mason promised, standing up to join her, resting his arm behind her. "She only slept with the help of a sleeping potion," Mason added, leaning over to peck a quick kiss to Madison's temple, an apology. "We'll make sure to hit the pools," Mason promised. "Are there any side-effects I should be watching out for?"

Madison sort of wanted to melt into the floor with all of the dirt that Mason was spilling on her, even if deep down she knew that honesty was the best thing to tell a medical professional. 'There's a few: sensitivity to light, dizziness, drowsiness,' the nurse explained, 'but if she needs sleep, let her. Oh ... and hiccups, but those will go away on their own. And apply the salve after showering, not before, alright?' he added, turning to Madison. 'They'll have a full instruction sheet and your prescription for the pools at the front desk. Don't forget to schedule that follow-up. Now, if there aren't any more questions, I need to check on a student who's sprouted some mysterious feathers.' Madison shook her head, and watched the nurse go, the bottle of salve tight in her grip. That sounded like a lot of side effects for something that wasn't bothering her that much. She hopped off the table and looked up to Mason. "Thanks," she said again, much more quietly this time.

Mason thanked the nurse again and then looked at his sister, a gentle smile on his face. "You're welcome, Madi," Mason said, pulling her close for a hug. He kissed the side of her head and sighed, closing his eyes for just a moment. At least he could still do this. At least he still knew how to do this. He could still keep Madison safe. "Now c'mon." He said, pulling back with a smile. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led them to the door. "Front desk and thennnnn...movie night? Craft night? Whatever you wanna do, sickie."

Madison leaned into Mason's comfortable touch, breathing a soft sigh of relief. She would be okay, purple glowing arms and all, and it was thanks to Mason keeping an eye on her, insisting that she take care of herself. That seemed to be a common theme, these days... "I think I'm under doctor's orders to relax," she replied, smiling softly.

Mason chuckled and nodded. "I'd be surprised if you didn't have a literal prescription for relaxation and chilling," Mason agreed, leading them to the front desk. "We'll cuddle up with a blanket and watch cartoons," Mason decided as the person in front of them stepped aside. "And drink relaxing tea."

Madison gave her name to the woman behind the desk, then made her appointment and accepted her prescription. "Aether, it really does say that," she groaned, and showed Mason as they stepped away. "It says I have to go to the pools and it's recommended that I cease stressful activity for the next day. That oughta be great in the middle of midterms..." She rolled her eyes, but smiled hopefully up at Mason. "Looks like we've got tea and cartoons and a blanket fort on order. Your dorm or mine?"

Mason laughed, shaking his head fondly. "Called it." Mason kept his arm around her as they left the hospital. "My room. I have better blankets, and a roommate who won't get weird about a twinning sleepover," Mason added with a wry smile. "It has been way, way too long since we had a good old fashioned blanketfort day. We deserve it."

Madison smiled warmly, already feeling a little better despite the route it took to get here. "Hey, my blankets are great," she insisted, teasing. "But ... you've got a point about the roommate." Quinn wouldn't be upset, but she might get weird; Madison was pretty sure that Spencer, on the other hand, would just ignore them. "I wanna stop by my room and get PJs and Éabha," she added. "And ... probably drop off the notebook, so I'm not tempted to sneak study, or something."

Mason snorted, rolling his eyes goodnaturedly. "You should know by now that my room is a no-studying zone." When she mentioned Éabha, Mason glanced at her. "She's gonna be maaaaaad. Would you absolutely kill me if I got Sabia just so she could translate for me? I've always wanted to see my sister scolded by a corvid." Mason grinned impishly.

Madison smacked Mason in the arm playfully. "You may not," she mock-commanded. Aether only knew what her familiar would have to say about the way she'd handled herself over the past couple of days. A lecture was probably not outside the realm of possibility; she did belong to Madison, after all. "But you should get Sabia, anyway. She's ... snuggly."

Mason snickered and nodded. "Yeah, she is," he agreed. He had the best familiar--who, to her credit, had been trying to get him to slow down too, but hadn't been overly successful either. They really did need to work on that. Soon they were at Madison's room, and Mason held back, settling against the wall. "I'll let you and Éabha have a minute. Bring that chamomile tea you have, too, 'kay?"

Madison gave Mason a tight, brief hug. "Sure thing," she agreed, and ducked into her room to get the things she'd mentioned. A long moment later, she emerged dressed in her pajamas, with a confident-looking Éabha on her shoulder and a pillow and box of tea under one arm. "Time to relax," she declared, a little sheepish, but determined to get this mission accomplished just like any other.

Mason grinned broadly, giving the two of them a playful salute before turning to head upstairs to his room. "Fort Relaxation, here we come!"

#ftf: all #ftf: mason

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