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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"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."

Now it's Spike's turn to look confused. Guard? What the hell does that mean? He nearly asks when Lucrezia starts talking about Molotov training her, and he stops walking altogether.

A second or two passes before he manages to bury it enough to start again.

"I thought you seemed friendly."

Well, she wasn't really important in Joshua's life, since she was long since dead, but in her mirroring of Rosette, well... That's more Chrono's issue than Joshua's. He likes certain brunettes just fine, there's no worrying for that.

"Oh, that one... What counts as misbehaving?"

Edited 2013-07-21 07:21 (UTC)

Lucrezia turns to smile at Spike, to make sure he is still there mostly, because she thinks his company might help. If not Joshua then herself. There are still times when she doesn't know what to do to help and that's the worst part.

"Punching would count," she moves to rest her arm against his hips and lead him along, reaching her other hand for Spike so that none would be left behind. "Show him what we have brought, Spike. The lanterns."

He's still there, in the physical sense. Mentally he's just barely keeping up, preoccupied by trying to figure out the missing pieces. But there comes a certain point when the questions add up too much, and you learn to cope with finding none of the answers. It's a lot easier to go along with it than wondering who to be concerned for and why.

"Here," he says, slightly delayed. Pulling out the lanterns he had hooked in his other arm, he holds it out for Lucrezia's hand -- because holding it now seems even more awkward than it did the first time, and it's easily misinterpreted.

Joshua intercepts her attempt to take them, releasing her so that he can instead pick them up from Spike's grip, smiling pleasantly at the image of them, and not even at the idea of using them. Right, isn't he supposed to, as well?

"Did...everyone like the idea?"

"Everyone," Lucrezia is happy to let him take the lanterns, keeping her eyes on his face to gauge his response. When she glances at Spike, there is an I told you he would like it in her smirk, as if this is a shared surprise and part of his plan too.

"But some wrote down their wishes while others would wish certain things away. And you?"

All part of the plan, sure. As if lifting Joshua's spirits and aiding him along to health should be his top priority. Because he considers that the honorable thing to do in his system of debts and payments? Or because of Lucrezia?

Spike doesn't want to think about it, so he looks away from both of them and keeps his pace silently beside them. Lucrezia is the better one to explain anyway, he never quite pays enough attention.

A little shrug follows her inquiry, just as he follows after her steps, like he doesn't know the way around his own (inherited) mansion.

"Who knows... Just something I read about once. Maybe to say goodbye."

For all the detours, it is a relief to finally reach the mansion's door. Home at last. She doesn't mind breaking tradition to open the door for the gentlemen but stops short of doing so, hovering there a moment to look at each in turn.

"To Colette? And Julia."

Spike has been going along without protest, but this night has proven how bad of an idea that can be. Apparently hearing her name twice is all it takes to cross that line with him.

"I've had enough fun for now." It's late enough that he can use that as his excuse if asked. He got her home, that should count for enough.

Joshua stops at the mention of the woman's name, mild confusion flickering across his gaze. He vaguely recognizes it, but Spike's reaction is enough to jog his memory, though that doesn't help the confusion. He had never said Julia's name around Lucrezia, had he? He can't remember.

One hand reaches out to grab Spike's arm, grip unyielding as the horns have yet to fade. There is a thickness to the air then, almost, as if time is slowing, the oxygen becoming harder and harder for the lungs to find.

But then it clears, and he sighs, while looking pointedly to Lucrezia. At her; into her. "If you didn't meet her...you shouldn't say her name." This could seem to be in Spike's defense, but more-over, Julia is a power that Lucrezia doesn't understand, that Joshua understands almost better than Spike himself. Her memory is a tool he earned through his own actions, and while he usually loves to humor Lucrezia, some things will remain his territory.

His grip on Spike relaxes, then releases, and he walks into the mansion ahead of them. His voice echoes cheerily as the maid waiting by the door turns to follow after him. "Come on, we'll eat s'mores and light these out back."

Edited 2013-07-31 02:01 (UTC)

Lucrezia lets her smile drop to reveal a colder mask underneath, perhaps she truly cares not whether her words may wound or perhaps she is only slighted by the reprimand. She makes little effort to ease the tension either, eyes following Joshua when he speaks to her but trailing to watch Spike when the former has walked by. He is the one who could, but shouldn't, leave.

The mention was meant less to hurt him than to provoke him into revealing more of himself, even if those go hand in hand. She doesn't want to be outside looking in anymore. When her smile returns, it is carved, cold and hard, but it's there at least, and she even offers him her hand as a peace offering.

"Have you ever had s'mores, Spike?"

As tense as Spike already is just by the subject of Julia being breached without his consent, he doesn't even flinch at feeling Joshua's sudden grip. The padding in his arm doesn't feel like it's there at all in his hand, and for a moment he wonders if he's planning on dragging him inside or even ripping it off. Only remembers to breathe once he releases him and starts to head inside.

Spike's gaze stays on Joshua as he enters, maybe in part because he can tell Lucrezia has turned hers to him. He answers once he thinks Joshua is out of earshot, like he didn't hear a word they said.

"What's wrong with him?"

It's her turn to reach for Spike's arm to keep him from following Joshua, perhaps to keep him out of earshot too, but then Lucrezia thinks that the boy can hear everything in this world anyway. But this way he can then pretend he didn't hear if he should choose.

"Colette left." If any fear or sorrow pass across her features, it is quickly replaced with a wry smile to hide them. She fears for him when he is fragile this way, even if his strength shows more clearly now or perhaps he lacks the will to hide it. She doesn't want him to know that sometimes she is still afraid too.

"My father's mistress carries the same name," she means Julia. Giulia. Spellings matter little when she is Lucrezia, Lucrecia, Lucretia. "But most call her La Bella Farnese, for her most divine face."