paradisalogs | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lucrezia grips his arm tighter before she lets go with a sigh, tired mostly. Keeping up appearances take the greatest toll but she can only ever let slip the parts that are still half-pleasant. That is the way to earn sympathy but not pity.

"She is beautiful. Bright as the sun and as sweet as can be."

But she may be speaking of a dream girl instead of anyone real. There is no way to tell now.

They had a right to be tired, her more than anyone. Spike wasn't half of the life of the party compared to what he saw of Lucrezia. Not to mention that he's more draining to hang around than most men in curly blonde wigs. And yet she's still taking the time to help him understand.

It's rare anymore that he'll see past his own problems to consider someone else who is mourning the loss of... whatever Colette is to him. For all he knows, it's one way that the two of them relate.

He takes a breath and eases up his tone, relaxing some of the tension he's been carrying since the cabin.

"I guess everyone has a type."

Her smile is wry. Perhaps this is how it feels to always be second to someone else set up so high on a pedestal that there is no chance to compete. It is when she thinks of such things that she misses her brother so terribly but it does not bear saying, when she doubts anyone else would understand the weight of her longing. Some things are better kept unsaid, or so he said.

"So we all do," she turns to watch him, but less to scrutinize and more to show him that she is still present and aware of his company. "Am I, bright?"

He tilts his head as he looks back at her, like that question took him by surprise. It shouldn't though. Living in that mansion has to have some kind of psychological effect on a person.

"Despite the company you keep." Said with a light smile, even if he means it.

The answer seems to please her or perhaps it was his smile instead. Either way she is grinning again in that way of hers that wipes away whatever gloominess crept upon her face before. Without a trace.

"But the moon can never be brighter than the sun." She isn't kind enough to explain, but she does glance over her shoulder to invite him to follow when she moves to step in.

The sun and the moon. She certainly enjoys her metaphors.

He must too, because he doesn't back away as he intended. It isn't good for him that she can recover and still convince him to do what she wants; which is becoming a theme with him, it seems. He's even aware of this fact, and he still steps forward after the initial hesitation.

Maybe he can make the most of this. Convince them to give him the guest room, and be able to pull this wig off by morning.

Metaphors are easier to say and more concise too. So much said with only a few words and still blanks are left on the page for a dash of mystery. She thinks it is the latter that has him following her still and so she intends to keep it.

"I will have the maids bring your supper to your room. I hazard you know how to find your way." There is no convincing needed.

Lucrezia has started to become an expert in reading his mind. Another sign that he's been spending too much time hanging around, after he knows exactly what that leads to.

He nods, following behind. No use for protest now unless he wants to cause a scene. Better that he save face and show how unbothered he is by the whole ridiculous situation.

Lucrezia stops just by the end of the hall, turning about to smile his way, all brightness and light.

"Will you not kiss me goodnight?"

He halts his steps for half a second, just long enough that he can't recover before she can see the dumbfounded look on his face.

"That's very funny."

Her laughter is loud and free, the kind that echoes against the walls even as she turns to walk away and find Joshua, wherever he might have wandered to. She might have granted him one, after all a kiss comes at no cost, at least not to her.