paradisalogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Spike (

gottaknockhard), Lucrezia (

heloise), Joshua (

ofhope), Brock (

samson), and Molotov (

molotov)
What: Unfortunate results of cosplay
When: July 7th
Where: Brock's cabin -> Joshua's mansion
Rating: PG

The whole thing had been a pretty funny joke, if Spike stood back and looked at it. The obvious, harmless kind that the castle always takes one step too far.

When he went to the party, he hadn't actually planned on being invested in any of the festivities. His purpose for stopping by had involved curiosity over someone who he really had no right to be checking on, and maybe getting a bite to eat. Somehow that led him to wearing a costume of one of his best friends, right down to the toy knife at his side and a yellow wig that kept him scratching at his neck as it brushed against it. That was awkward enough, but the fact that Lucrezia took his lead and dressed as Brock's wife, just added a few layers.

Regardless, he hadn't needed much convincing when Lucrezia asked him to take her home.

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He leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel for the next several seconds. 'Walk her to the door' she says. Tempting fate is usually his bread and butter, but there's some things he just isn't in the mood for dealing with.

Unfortunately, he can't come up with a good reason why he shouldn't that wouldn't make his discomfort more obvious. So he nods, and opens his door, silently walking around to let her out.

Whatever, it's not like they've done that well with hiding it this far.

She watches him to gauge whether he wants to, if he is afraid or something else entirely. Not that it would have her withdraw her request. She wouldn't want to walk all the way there alone dressed like this. Like any proper lady, she gives him her hand to take so he can help her step out of the car.

"I can make a good case for both of us."

By now, he's had enough practice to know what she's expecting, and he gives his hand to lift her out of the seat. Who knows why he's indulging her, but maybe it's to make up for how he's treated women in general lately.

"Did you think of a story on the way over?"

She takes his hand and steps out gladly. He's getting better day by day! He should start considering a career as a courtier.

"Must I think of another aside from the truth?"

There may be someone around to protest that. But he's come to understand more about women from her era, so he can manage this much.

"If you think that he'll buy that it's a coincidence."

Lucrezia walks on ahead, feeling more comfortable now that they are away from the crowd and the lights. The darkness is like a cloak.

"Why would he not?" She smiles at him to be reassuring, somewhat. "Is that not the truth, Spike?"

"Yeah." He's not going to press it, even if he does consider everything the castle has done to be a personal jab at him. Just that self-centered ego of his acting up again.

She reaches out a hand, for him. He doesn't think she is about to let him linger behind and surreptitiously disappear, does he?

"What is the matter?"

Of course not. He keeps his pace by her side, but hesitates in taking her hand.

"Nothing at all." Smiling, even. He can't take everything so seriously, that would drive him crazy. "Well, I may have eaten too much barbecue."

Lucrezia doesn't take no for an answer, holding her hand up to make the point that he doesn't get to refuse the offer.

"And it shows. There, on your arms. No steak for you tonight."

She's really hard on him. Spike takes her hand, while making a mental note to tell her this sometime.

"I should feel lucky that's all that's showing."

Well, aren't they just the cutest little couple? If Joshua paid more attention to appearance, he might not have recognized them from a distance. But he goes by walks, stance, and voices (when he's lucid enough to recognize anyone, that is) more than faces or clothes. The clothes, though... The hair... The hand holding... What kind of party was it?

Having spent all of his time since Colette's departure in hiding, the only reason he's hanging around outside of the cellar is because Lucrezia left for some kind of party, and though he couldn't go with her when the noise was so bad, he disliked her being gone for so long. So he stays near the door, in the library, and it takes little time for him to notice when she's home, the sound of the car a curious give-away more than anything, not that he's paying attention to that.

He lurks at the entrance for a moment after having the maid open the door, staring at them blankly, and then he's right beside them in a moment, horns visible due to the speed required. But Joshua needs to make sure it's her, putting a hand on Lucrezia's arm as if that's all he needs to check, then quickly pulling it back like it burns. He looks relieved to see her, though, as relieved as someone in his condition can look, and only then remembers someone else is there because her hand is connected to his.

But, even then, his glance is cursory. There should perhaps be more amusement at their predicament, or at least some recognition on Spike's behalf, but instead he just looks vaguely cheered that she's back.

"The tiger knocked over a book case..."

Lucrezia can be softer on others less inclined to dodge her questions and demands. Spike, on the other hand, she needs to be hard on, especially since that often yields something out of the man eventually. Persistence pays when it comes to him, perhaps when it comes to Joshua too. She thinks they are far more similar than they would admit.

His sudden appearance has her nearly jumping out of her skin and it takes her a moment to remember how to greet him with a smile when her heart is still racing from the surprise. She isn't afraid though, only shocked, but she knows how fragile he has been these days and how she should calm herself and soon. Laughter helps. She steps closer with a surer smile, reaching out a hand to frame his face but not to touch him yet. Not until she is sure it would not hurt him.

"I thought to ask him to break down the cellar door for me. Look at his muscle now," she spares an amused glance at Spike and his arms. "But turns out the tiger has achieved what I could not."

Even half-expecting Joshua to appear out of nothing, Spike isn't prepared enough not to flinch back as his mind struggles to catch up to him suddenly being beside them. For once he may have preferred a laugh to the unnaturally subdued reaction that follows. Maybe.

Then again, it's pretty late. Joshua wouldn't be the only one feeling tired.

Spike attempts to reestablish their distance when Lucrezia calls him (and his pillow arms) out. Vaguely, he thought he may be able to slip back to the car while they were preoccupied. -- It's not even that he's afraid or embarrassed, or that Joshua's next move is impossible to guess. Something else makes them so much easier to handle individually.

"I guess I wasn't needed after all." He smiles as a belated means of playing up a joke he isn't even in on. Most people would ask about the tiger, but he likes to think he's smarter than that.

"I was already out when the tiger did it...looking at magazines." As if this is valid and important, but it's still murmured with an off-kilter lilt, like everything he says is an afterthought. Everywhere he looks, it's impossible to know if he's really seeing, the rings within his irises brighter than normal, and sweat on his brow. Despite the horns, for all intents and purposes, he looks incredibly ill.

But he's smiling, regardless, reaching up to hold her hand to his cheek and gazing at her for a moment. The hair, the costume in it's entirety, is seemingly ignored for the moment, at least until he looks to Spike, and to what Lucrezia is talking about.

The costume is familiar, but there's no way he could recall the name of someone he barely knows in this condition.

"You're staying for dinner?"

Important enough, especially the part where he stepped out of the cellar of his own will. Between the two of them, sometimes she thinks she is the stronger one in many ways, the ways that aren't so easily noticed. Her time to keep promises anyhow, standing on tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. A brief one lest it worsens his headache.

She hasn't forgotten about Spike though, turning over her shoulder to chuckle at his attempt at escaping. He should know better than to think this would be a quick drop-off when it comes to Lucrezia.

"He is," so maybe she is hard on him. "But no steak this time, perhaps we should only feed him carrots."

Tired could have been an understatement. When he doesn't immediately succeed in slipping off, he takes a closer look at Joshua, who surprises him again by looking damn near faint. The horns may even do that, as far as Spike knows, and his smile weakens.

This definitely isn't where he should be right now. He opens and closes his mouth, stuck at what to say, but stuck either way.

"Isn't it late for dinner?" A steak would be harder to turn down. Carrots though...

At the mention of carrots, Joshua visibly cringes, nose scrunching in distaste. There's almost a sense of lucidity in his reaction. "Anything but carrots..."

What do you mean it's too late for dinner? What time is it? What day is it? He doesn't know, and he hasn't eaten yet.

Lucrezia just wants their company. The night is still young as far as she's concerned and she still wants to party it up with the people she likes. No more crowds, they only tire her, and no carrots if the gentlemen refuse. Maybe that was only meant to test how lucid Joshua is.

"Whatever you wish," she reaches her other hand to take Joshua's and start walking back. "But you must both stay for the lanterns to wish for everything else the maids cannot fetch."

"...Yeah, sure." He breaks his gaze away to glance back at the car. There were some decisions he could have made throughout the evening that would have avoided this whole situation.

Because of course blatantly saying he doesn't want to isn't an option.

In any case, he definitely won't admit to any implied sympathy by him agreeing to go along. If nothing else, he can claim that he was hoping Joshua had a knack for prying a stubborn wig off his head.

Joshua follows Spike's look beyond to the car, but he's quick to look back ahead when Lucrezia begins leading them away. It's now that something seems to click, remembering something she had said several moments ago.

"Your muscles aren't that big...Spike. Why do you two look different?"

Joshua gets a finger flicked against his arm for that. Silly!

"And my hair is red, like Magdalena," or Jezebel, name any unsavory women of history, but then she probably stands among them even with her usual golden hair. She is laughing it off though. "The castle's doing, surely. We are Brock Samson and Molotov Cocktease tonight. Who will you be, Joshua?"

That sinking feeling that he's in the wrong place doesn't get any better at Joshua's confusion. Lucrezia seems to know just how to handle it though, and he gratefully doesn't have to respond.

He keeps a weary eye on him, though. That whole car ride over, she could have mentioned something else was up. But he won't ask until he catches her alone again. By then he'll have decided if he really wants to know.

If only Spike realized just how often Joshua is actually in states similar to this. He hasn't been like this since Colette left, of course not, but perhaps it's happened a little more since. This is just one of those off days, the dreaming Joshua that is still reeling from a fit or prepared to go into one at any time. This, in a sense, is only part of his fits. They can last hours, or days, there's just never knowing.

Lucrezia is more soldier than princess, in actuality, for how long she has fought this battle with Joshua and kept her lips sealed.

"Magdalena was blonde, as the Sinners tell it..." Did Lucrezia remember that first story he ever told her? Mary Madgalene and the Sinners, with pillows and tea and nerves on edge. "I don't know any Molotov... Brock, though... Brock Samson."

Another look in the direction of the car, and to Spike over the top of Lucrezia's head, and then a chuckle. "One of my guards." Lucrezia knew, but did Spike? It hardly matters anymore.

Why are most of the important figures in Joshua's life blondes? A question for the ages. She guesses it might be a trace of narcissism, only because she would understand the sentiment.

Lucrezia reaches a hand to wipe away the sweat from his brow to make him seem better and try to tame his hair, a lost cause. But her life is made of make-believe, because seeking what she truly wants only leads to disaster, and this tale is one she can still hold on to.

"Molotov is his most beloved wife," she smirks. Isn't it a joke? "She thought me how to punch. You, if you misbehave."