the-second-carnelion

[the-second-carnelion]

“I think highly of long-standing loyalty in a family, yes. And that much I’ve come to gather about you all through the opinions of others. But it’s also easy enough to witness on my own.��� Bash was beginning to add that the heartache or tension present in the wake of the business that ended the last supernatural fete was only proof that there was love there, but he fell silent as Andre seemed to ponder aloud. Almost as if the fae was no longer there. And the notion of him being ‘gone’ in pairing with his melancholic demeanour left Bash with an incredibly heavy sort of worry settling upon him. “None of them would be relieved… I doubt anyone would.” I wouldn’t, he thought to himself.

Sebastian laughed a bit at the question and following inspection, although he didn’t truly mind either. It was flattering, even if it might well just be the product of teasing. But then that smile and his assessment really took him aback. Maybe not just teasing… “I could say the same to you, although we both know that you’re far from an acquired taste.”

The question was a bit bold, although perhaps not surprising given the shift in their conversation, but Bash didn’t have a chance to answer before Andre’s expression seemed to wilt. He smiled a bit at the latter comment, albeit with a touch of sadness that it seemed to be the sort of thing his new companion expected of their interactions. “I won’t speak in definitives as there are none where the future is concerned. However, I would dispute the fact that you would ruin me. I rather think pleasant surprise has been the takeaway of our meetings thus far… unless, of course, you feel differently.” He cleared his throat then, leaning forward towards Andre ever so slightly as he brought his elbow to rest along the top of the couch. “I have been with a vampire. Several, actually, over the years. One as long term as decades… and I have yet to be ruined, at least as far as I’m aware.”

The playfulness of the adjective turned nickname softened Bash’s expression again, with his smile now a mix of budding fondness and interest while a hint of amusement played behind his eyes. It almost faltered at what he thought he’d heard Andre say. In truth, he hardly had any time to process that the other man had spoken at all, let alone to question what he’d said, because now his focus was taken up in entirely different matters. He caught Andre by his hips at first, the suddenness of this all rather taking him by surprise. But it didn’t stop him from deepening the kiss, unfolding himself to the vampire as his hands roamed from their position to pull them all the closer together. Because instinct and desire certainly won out over any impulse towards flustered natures or, indeed, bashfulness. This was real, and this was right.

Andre sighed deeply, folding against the fae as he did so. He really ought to be more careful. But he didn't much care about being careful right now. With his looming death on the horizon. Why not go out with a little bit of happiness. Right?

The word happiness appearing in his own mind made him stiffen. That was a word he'd never associated with himself. It disarmed him a bit. Sticking there, like it belonged. Andre pinched the bridge of his nose. "I find it amusing that you seem to think so highly of my family." He diverted. "Though..." He nibbled on his bottom lip as he drifted into silence. "I wonder...what they'd do. When I'm gone. Wulfe...well he'd just wander off someplace. Maybe take Cali with him. Stefan though...I've no doubt he'd take my children in. All of them. But...would be feel any sorrow? Or would it merely be relief?" It was more just rambling as he followed his thoughts. Until the last of them. Stefan would be relieved. To not have to worry over him anymore. "Well..." He scoffed, though his heart wasn't in it. "There's that. I suppose."

The fae's comment made his lips quirk up just a bit. "And if the acquired taste is my own?" He asked, that light of flirtation back in full swing. Gently, he took the man's chin between his fingers, turning it back and forth. "Mmm....yes." He settled on before releasing him. "I am a connoisseur of all things tasteful." He told him, tilting his head a bit, a ghost of his usual 100 watt smile peeking through. "Consider yourself, acquired."

Pulling away from him took a great deal of strength on Andre's part. Were he to have to do it again, he wouldn't be able to. So instead, he turned to face Sebastian. He wanted to laugh at his statement, but just couldn't muster it. "Have you ever been with a vampire?" The question came out soft. Softer than Andre usually bothered to be. As he stared at him, his expression crumbled just a bit. "Oh...I'd ruin you." He realized with a sad resolution.

But, he now had a name. Sebastian. Or Bash. His lips twitched again. "Bashful?" He teased, leaning against his arm. The featherly touch on his knee made Andre shiver a bit. His smile subduing more and more. The earlier words he'd spoken were still true. He would ruin Bash. He gently took the fae's hand from his knee, combing their fingers together. He would ruin him. Andre glanced up at Bash, almost shyly, thought no part of Andre had ever been shy. Or delicate even. Yet...somehow...this felt like he could be. "If I'm destined to die anyway..." He murmured. Not really caring if Bash heard him or not. "I'd want you still." Then, he fluidly slid onto the fae's lap, taking his face in his hands, and kissing him. A real kiss. A desperate kiss. One to last a lifetime.

[the-second-carnelion]

Bash let out a triumphant sort of laugh. "I always knew I was your favorite older brother!" In reality he knew that they all had unique relationships with each other, but not true 'favorites.' "But you have to actually play along, now that you've agreed."

She couldn't help but chuckle as he sped up their spin. "Oh very well, but only because it's you,"

[the-second-carnelion]

Sebastian settled back against the sofa a bit more, at least somewhat contented in the fact that Andre's lack of a proper answer in this moment wasn't due to any insistence of secrecy as much as an alcohol-influenced memory. "We are quite the contradictory bunch. A lot of hard and fast rules amongst us," he mused. The laugh caught him a bit off guard, resulting in a sharp raise of his eyebrows and a glance back to the vampire. His expression softened again into more amusement. "Ah. Well, I would say that those aren't terribly far off... but they are, at least somewhat." The following flirtatiousness silenced Bash again though, and he found himself falling silent as he tried to read Andre's expression.

But then he changed the subject again, just as swiftly. Contradictory, indeed. Not that Bash was complaining really. He liked Andre's complexity, his intrigue, his depth. "I think you'll find that it's there,e even if it's not entirely typical or obvious to your own eyes. Not for all families, of course. But yours I would rather count on." He bit back a laugh at the notion of being able to get anything he wanted, opting instead for a small smile. "I'm afraid my charms are much more of an acquired taste than you make them out to be."

The motions of Sebastian's hands only stopped as Andre pulled away to try to right himself, but they remained at a resting spot between the two, almost at the ready to hold him together again if needs be. But he understood the limits of pushing Andre away with perceived pity or the like. So instead he just watched intently, a slight smile tugging at his lips at the comments about vampires. "Perhaps I think it's worth throwing a bit of caution to the wind this once."

He laughed as Andre spoke again, as he seemed to fold nearer against his side. It was odd, really, not to mention rather unlike himself to be quite so comfortable or inviting with an all-but stranger. And yet it felt entirely natural to do so. "I don't know about the white horse being a good fit either," he replied, allowing his fingertips to gently swirl patterns against Andre's knee. "But it's Bash. Or Sebastian if you prefer formalities."

Andre laughed a bit at the question. He extended his arms in a shrug. "I don't even know anymore. Nothing makes sense. And the world is faulty." He paused then. "Or the underworld I suppose. Supernatural politics and all that rubbish." Andre turned more to face him. His eyes honing in on the light flush in the fae's cheeks. He laughed a bit suddenly, though it was a harsh sound to his own ears. "I need not know your name..." He said with an amused little smile. "I've named you many times on my own. "Cosmo...Orion...all sorts of things. I have twelve...remember?" Pressing his lips together he sighed. "But...you can tell it to me. If you'd like. If I enjoy it more than the ones I have in my head I might even use it." A little flair of his flirty personality started to seep through the fog of his melancholy. Andre loved to flirt, it was the one thing he was very good at.

Andre sucked his teeth. "There's that word again...love. Seems to be in the air tonight. There's no love shared between my brothers and I. Respect? Sometimes. Usually...resignation." The words tasted to bitter on his tongue he winced. At the fae's comment, he let that thought fade away. "Bribery? From you? What on earth would you need to bribe someone for? I would imagine you could get anything you wanted with a mere smile and a soft word."

The gentle stroking of his hair, made Andre feel wretched. Because how dare he receive anything other than cruelty. It was what he deserved, in the end. And as the handsome fae brushed away the tears Andre hadn't even realized he'd begun to shed, a sort of realization came over him. This man's concern for him, was genuine. And when had Andre ever felt genuine? Or had genuineness extended towards him? It was too much to bear in that moment, and his entire facade fell away. He clutched the man's shirt in his fingers and he was overwhelmed with everything he'd been holding in. The tears continued to fall, as did his ramblings. The string of French words seemed to spill out of him. Like blood from a wound. And it was a wound. A deep, seeping one. The affection he'd once held for Morpheus burned like poison in his veins. The regret, sour on his tongue. The deep ache of loneliness...in his very soul. How could he have let his guard down like that? He wasn't meant for a great love. He wasn't meant for anything. His mere existence was a mistake. But how could he communicate all of that to this man holding him? He couldn't. So he took that affection. And he reveled in it.

At the soft words, Andre took in a shuddering breath. Because it didn't make sense to him. Why after he'd told this man he wasn't worth a damn thing at all. He'd extended a hand of friendship anyway. Friendship...or perhaps something more? Andre couldn't even bear to follow that line of thinking. He rubbed the heel of his hand accross his face. He could only imagine how awful he looked right now. But he couldn't help but laugh a little. Only a little. Because he felt if he let it out completely he'd fall into a fit of hysterics. "If I'd like you to be..." He sniffled miserably. Falling into silence, he busied himself with wiping his face clean, smoothing his rumpled clothing, attempting to shield up but his bottom lip trembled a bit as he battled for control. So he gave up, entirely.

"I'd hardly push you away right now..." He sighed, slumping a bit in his misery. "Though I would caution you on inviting a strange vampire past your threshold. Once you invite us in,,,you can never keep us out." Considering that, he popped his lips. "Smarmy little creatures aren't we?"

Somehow though, Andre's chest felt a little lighter. He didn't have that crushing pain anymore. Which was an interesting result. It had been ages since he'd properly cried like that. He'd never done it in front of anyone, save for Wulfe. And Wulfe never cared about anything, so Andre figured it was safe enough. That and Wulfe typically didn't like to leave him alone for long periods of time. His oldest brother had always been such a mystery to him.

He turned more to face the other man. Brightening a bit, more and more. "And why...I wonder. Would you think that wouldn't count for anything?" It was strange, what he was feeling. A more settled, more clear minded appreciation. And if he were honest with himself, a dream. A dream of an existence that wasn't quite so bleak at all. He sighed again, more deeply this time. Letting his forehead drop onto the fae man's shoulder, he shook a little. "Well...now you're really going to have to tell me your name. I can't very well develop a true fantasy without it. What with your white horse and all. Orion just doesn't seem to fit anymore."

[the-second-carnelion]

"No, what is it you were trying to say?" Bash questioned, though his tone was more gently inquisitive than in any way demanding. He wanted to know, yes, but he did want it to be on Andre's terms as well. That felt right. The notion of listing the reasons brought about a familiar sense of warmth in the fae's cheeks, although subtle it wouldn't likely be missed this up close. "I don't think I'm deserving of twelve when you don't even know my name... especially given that I know yours. It seems a bit unfair, does it not?"

"I should think most siblings are cross with each other when it suits them... but what counts in the end is that there's love there. Loyalty too," he reasoned, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he imagined his own family. Certainly there had been arguments and heartache between them all over the years, but they always came back to one another when it counted most. The half laugh caught his attention again though, making him glance back at Andre with a soft smile. "I don't think he'd put it past our sister, but I think he rather worries it's a bribe where I'm concerned."

Sebastian wasn't entirely sure what was going on in Andre's mind, in his life either. But to see him so broken truly made Bash's own heart ache. Funny, really, given their lack of familiarity. But it was consuming--that need to shoulder some of this burden for Andre, however temporarily. Maybe just long enough to show him that someone could.

He didn't stop his gentle caresses of the vampire's hair--not as he cried, not as he talked. Bash knew better than to think he had anything resembling the right words in that moment. How could he? How could anyone in the face of such sorrow? So instead he continued to stroke Andre's hair away from his face, with his hand's path occasionally diverted to wiping away the stray tears escaping down Andre's cheeks.

After a long pause Bash gathered his words, the promise his mind and soul had somehow settled on over the course of their brief meetings. He wanted to be here, he wanted to know Andre. Maybe even care for him. At that thought, he finally spoke. "I know it might not count for anything at all... but I'm here if you would like me to be. And if you feel cast out or alone, you always have a place to stay with me if you should need it."

At the offer of a drink, Andre smiled, though it was pained. “No…” He forced out. “I meant… “ but the response died before it finished. “It doesn’t really matter i suppose.” He admitted, glancing away. The fae remained with him though, which puzzled him. At self-deprecating statement, Andre wilted a bit. Apparently his usual charm was lacking tonight. “I admit… 12 sounds about right. I could list the reasons for you though.” He offered, trying once more discovering it was too hard so he gave up entirely, sinking back into the couch gracelessly.

The comment about elder brothers made Andre feel wretched all over again. “I venture to guess I’ve simply given up on that front. He’s comfortable being cross with me so why should i argue? Then Wulfe. Well he doesn’t really care about anything these days.” Talking about his brothers sunk like a weight in his stomach and he grimaced, scrubbing his hands over his face. At the tea comment though, he choked on a laugh. “Perhaps he thinks you’ve poisoned it. I thought I was the only one who did that anymore.”

Andre fell silent then, getting lost in his own head. The questions he wanted to voice, but wouldn’t dare too. Had anyone actually loved him? Cared for him? Certainly not. The kind hearted comment disarmed him though. He made a choking sound between a laugh and a sob. “Look at that…I’ve done it again.” He turned toward the fae then, ready to lash out at him for that. But what he found there was genuine openness, even affection. Leaving him no desire to do it. Perhaps it would be alright to have one person who didn’t know. Just one. This one.

Andre hadn’t even realized that Bash had shifted his weight until he was outright curled against him. The sob that strangled out of him was raw. Painful. And he just wanted it all to stop. The fingers in his hair and the kind words coaxed more pain out of him. He just couldn’t anymore. He started to ramble helplessly in French. The same feeling that night Erebus came to him about Morpheus. “I loved him.” He whispered brokenly. “And I lost him. I loved them. Now I can’t keep them. I’m completely alone, so alone.”

[the-second-carnelion]

[the-second-carnelion]

"Oh, come on, Pippa. Humor me," he insisted, spinning them faster with a chuckle.

"And is this a normal topic of conversation for you while dancing?"

[the-second-carnelion]

"Shouldn't dream of it," Bash replied dutifully, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head ever so slightly. The shattering sound made him raise a brow, briefly glancing over Magnus' shoulder as the glowing grand total of Xypher's apparent destruction of property loomed by the throne. Coupled with Magnus' determined effort to smile and ignore the other warlock, Bash had to make a conscious effort not to laugh. But, really, it was quite the thing to witness.

Dancing was another thing he could attribute to the meddling wisdom of his mother. Insistence on lessons in his far off youth had led to Bash being rather accomplished in this sort of thing, leading Magnus in a graceful and effortless journey across the dance floor, including the odd twirl or two admist their continued conversation. "Mmm, I'd argue that nearly everyone in this room is complicated. Not necessarily in a negative way," he replied. "Given his hatred of vampires I do think this would be the least desirable settling place he could imagine," Bash half joked before catching that Magnus might be disappointed in that notion. "Not for any fault in your trying or... hospitality, fine china included."

"Never underestimate the craftiness of us meddlers." He cautioned with a glittery wink and mysterious little smile. There was a smash and then a curse followed by the sound of something shattering. Magnus' right eye twitched but he remained smiling serenely. "That's fourteen." He murmured, calculating the cost of all the fine china being to purposefully destroyed. Then he straightened up taller. "He's like a toddler throwing tantrums." He growled. Keeping his eyes glued to Bash's, he pointed a finger over his shoulder, sending off a bolt of glue sparkles shooting over Xypher's head. A glowing tally spun over the throne, stopping at $10,056.13." When Xypher shouted something back at him, Magnus just smiled even wider. "There now, all settled. Where were we, darling? Ah yes..."

The crowd parted for them like a curtain. Bash's grip on his hand was comfortable. The hand at his waist a reminder to stay in the present. Because who actually knew when such a opportunity would appear again. He placed a gentle hand on the fae's shoulder as they began to dance. "It's not patience, really." He assured him. "Warlocks. We're not so complicated. Xypher? I'd say he's all talk but he certainly does bite and its normally a catastrophe. But we are very old friends and I've only ever seen such explosions of temper a few times. Its piddly little antagonisms, nothing more." He said with a fond smile. "Although..." He mused, a little darker now. "I do wonder how long he intends on staying in Chicago."

[the-second-carnelion]

Bash watched Andre in that still sort of silence he only seemed to manage when he was taking in the subject of his next painting... and in some ways Andre would be the best sort of subject for such a thing, but that an inexplicable pain seemed to linger in the vampire's eyes was not what he would hope to capture. "I could fetch you a drink if you need one," he offered at the comment about chapped lips, although he remained close to Andre until that request was acted on, almost as if he worried that the other man might break if he left. The compliment disarmed Sebastian, admittedly. He blinked at Andre for a moment, as if trying to gage his seriousness. "Maybe one, but I shouldn't dare to hope for more."

Stefan was the leader of the Italian seethe... or, at least, Bash thought so. He was admittedly out of the loop with most of the vampiric politics in Chicago. "Even if he had no room or reason to, I'd imagine he'd still be suspicious. At least that's the case with my elder brother... Looks at me sideways if I offer him a cup of tea." He tilted his head at Andre spoke again, his brow furrowing in a touch of confusion. It was troubling to hear quite how low Andre seemed to think of himself, of his motivations, when Bash had gotten quite the opposite sense from their previous meetings. And in this moment it almost felt wrong to say... foolish, or perhaps outright naive. Because he didnt know Andre from before. Barely knew him even know, much as he was beginning to admit that he'd like to. Even so, he knew his opinion on the matter and still he managed a smile at Andre's last words, and a truly genuine one. "I quite like the current version of you, for what it's worth."

Bash was worried for a moment that he'd said something wrong, or perhaps just pushed too hard in his effort to soothe Andre. The sound he made, and even the way he now leaned against Sebastian did little to dispel those fears. But it did make him feel glad that in at least this much he might be able to provide some sort of comfort. Bash reached up to wrap one arm around Andre's shoulders, coaxing him to fully rest his weight against the fae. The other hand came up to gently smoothe out Andre's hair, occasionally continuing the motion in a little trail down the back of his neck. "You don't have to be sorry for my sake. Or happy... or anything other than exactly as you are."

Andre was barely following the conversation. But he certainly knew he’d said something that was wrong. Or off somehow. His mask was in shambles currently and he had no idea how to school his features in the midst of it all. So he gave up altogether. “My lips are…chapped.” He exhaled. He didn’t mean it in the literal sense. Then came the question about remembering him and Andre shook his head vehemently, which caused the room to swirl dangerously. “No…of course not. You were lovely, certainly worthy of a thought or two. Maybe twelve.”

His lip twitched a bit. Wanting to smile but not sure if he deserved it. “Family is…a constant struggle.” He sighed as his tongue seemed to loosen a bit. “Stefan wonders why I came back here. He couldn’t possibly believe I came for him. His letters have been off lately. I can’t explain but he hasn’t been himself. Then I show up and I’ve brought the world down on him. So perhaps he’s right to be suspicious.” It felt oddly relieving to admit that. He turned more to face Sebastian. “Have you ever wondered the point in eternal life? Forced to make the same mistakes over and over again. At some point you simply stop worrying and just accept yourself for the monster you are?” At that, Andre stopped. He studied the fae’s face. “No…I don’t suppose you do. Do you?” The smile that finally swept over him was soft. “I wished I’d met you before…before everything.”

Sebastian’s comment about being not really manipulative made his expression crumble. Because how could that be true? When you were rotten, you were just that. He made a pained sound before dropping his head onto Sebastian’s chest. “I’m sorry…” he whimpered. Not even sure to who at this point.

[the-second-carnelion]

Sebastian considered the notion, particularly in regard to Andre. Of course, reputations did follow supernaturals--particularly the seethes and their masters who had been the topic of many people's conversations even before the chaos at the end of the Italian's gala. They seemed to be swathed in mystery, intrigue, and a certain given-ness to drama. But all in all, Bash didn't like to listen to much in the way of gossip or speculation, at least not in comparison to most. So when he thought of it he wasn't sure there was anything he could remark on about his present company beyond being referred to as a courtier and having a rather eccentric extended family. "If it soothes your mind, I haven't heard anything beyond the absolute baseline about you. Then again, I typically believe in learning about people through their lips," he explained, before catching how that sounded and hastily adding, "Conversationally, I mean. Getting to know them. You, as it were." Andre's intense stare coupled with his words and fading smile didn't exactly upset Bash, but it did make him wonder just what was going through the vampire's mind. "Is remembering me so awful?"

He half-laughed at Andre's assessment. "Mmm, I tend to steer away from the opinions of siblings in particular. Far too biased depending on their mood, at least in my own experience. But, in any case, I should point out that most manipulative people would do everything to deny that they in fact are. So perhaps I can make my own judgement on that score in due time."

The reply puzzled Andre. He took a shaky breath, which was silly really. Vampires didn't actually need to breathe. So why would it shake like that? "Surprises and secrets." He repeated. He thought on it for a moment before turning more to face the fae. "I suppose in Chicago...but its really not that hard. Reputations tend to follow one through the ages. It's always been tight-lipped." Andre stared at him, really stared for a moment. "Oh yes...I see it now....I do remember you." But after that observation, the smile faded. "Oh..."

He retreated a bit then, to catch his bearings. To attempt to shroud himself. Though it was increasingly hard to do, the more he drank. "I don't think you'd like me very much." He whispered. "I'm a rather manipulative person. Just ask my brother. He'll tell you."

[the-second-carnelion]

"Albeit an intense meddler, but yes," Bash remarked fondly. Although given the way Magnus seemed similar in that degree, he wasn't sure that would have any sort of ill appearance to the warlock. Meddling and eccentricities, as the well timed reaction to the smoking reminded him. It amused Bash, to be sure, but it also endeared Magnus to him all the further. He was so unapologetically himself, and that was nothing if not an attractive quality in a person. "Having to keep run of the place and dance at the same time... however do you manage?" Bash mused as he took Magnus' hand from its place on his arm to hold, with his free one coming to rest along Magnus' waist. "I fear I wouldn't have the wherewithall, let alone the patience."

"Brilliant woman." He preened, running his hand over the fae's shoulder as if brushing off lint. "Lucky indeed." He found he had to agree. Then his nose wrinkled suddenly and he held up a finger. "A moment please..." Turning towards the throne his voice boomed through the ballroom. "NO SMOKING YOU HEATHEN!" There was a scuffling then it quieted down. He turned back to Bash, thoroughly pleased with himself. "There we are." His brilliant smile lit up his face. "I would so gladly, darling." Placing an elegant hand on Sebastian's arm they set off to the dance floor.

[the-second-carnelion]

"I try to be. My mother would be cursing my name somewhere if I didn't," he admitted almost reflexively. But then he was drawn back to his present company, who was as captivating as ever... and genuinely baiting him. Sebastian offered him a slightly sheepish smile. "I did, in fact. How lucky that we seemed to have been schooled in the same social ettiquette," Bash mused, bowing his head forward now as he extended Magnus his hand. "If you'd do me the honor?"

He eyed Sebastian with a glittery intent. “Well look at you…being all proper. I do love that in a man.” He dropped him a wink before discarding his cocktail on a passing tray. “It is also customary to share a dance with the host. Did you know that?” His question came with a hint of a smile in his cat eyes.

[the-second-carnelion]

Bash brought up a hand to gentle catch Andre's arm before it caught his nose, but his grip truly felt like more of a graze along the vampire's skin than any real attempt to defend himself... then again, he hadn't been anticipating a physical retaliation of some sort. The look on Andre's face clearly spelled out his lack of awareness though, so Bash made a silent promise to not take it to heart. He relinquished whatever faint hold he still had on his arm, watching him with a new sort of curiosity. "I should think that you hold an endless well of surprises and secrets at your disposal, in the way that all strangers do to start with. Because I still don't know you well enough to speak of certainties," Sebastian reminded gently, a faint smile on his lips. "But whether I'm allowed to know you, or indeed what I might be able to learn about you is entirely in your gift."

"How would you know..." He mumbled in more an automatic response than a thought-out one. When the fae leaned it, as subtle as the movement was, Andre's arm shot out in a means of protecting himself, nearly hitting the man in the face. He jerked out of his trance, blinking at the fae. Finally recognizing him. At that point he could have played the game. But, he didn't. Because he was tired. "Perhaps I am actually taciturn. Or perhaps many other things to countless people. Would that surprise you?" He asked, finally picking his head up so he could peer at him.

[the-second-carnelion]

"You... are a rotten liar," Bash determined, leaning in a bit closer as his words dipped to a whisper. "And remarkably taciturn compared to our last meeting."

“Fascinating…” He murmured in a tone that echoed anything but. He’d been tossing back glasses of wine from his dark corner. Surely a few bottles by now.

[the-second-carnelion]

"Ah..." Sebastian glanced at Xypher before returning his attention to Magnus. "Is it not still best to greet the host first? Maybe I've been misinformed."

"Although, I suppose I did greet you earlier."

Welcome!

"If you are here to inquire about my glorious self, I should inform you that there is a waiting list currently. But..." He swirled a finger in the air making little sparks of blue glitter appear. "Our guest for the evening..." He gestured towards the line that had formed before the throne. "He is in fact taking applications. I'm counting on you."

[the-second-carnelion]

"Magnus Bane... never one to spare an expense," Bash remarked.

[the-second-carnelion]

Sebastian laughed a bit, in that involuntary sort of shock. Not that he was shocked, of course. Magnus was only being himself, and that was utterly charming and bold in a way that made one spellbound. "And give the whole of the ball a show instead of just you? I shouldn't think I'm that much to write home about," he mused once he'd recovered.

"Want you to?" Magnus frowned in confusion. "After our night of passionate love making?" He tilted his head at Bash. "Or wait..." He leaned against the fae's shoulder, gesturing to him. "You'll have to drop your pants so I remember."

[the-second-carnelion]

"Insul--" Sebastian's mouth seemed to open and shut soundlessly for a moment. "I assure you it's just a matter of me being dreadfully aloof. I'm rather guilty of that at times," he explained. "I'd gladly make it up to you."

Andre's lip twitched just a bit. "Pity. Now you've insulted me. Perhaps I ought to go tell my brother...or....you could offer to make it up to me."