Mι∂ηιgнт ιη Ƥαяιѕ

[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP, set anywhere from 1879 alternate history France to 21st century North America. A tale of two brothers and the witch and her golem who gets entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

Comments

❇ 1879 ii ❇

[oren]

[A week has passed, preparations have been made and fulfilled, and Oren stands inside the Midnight Grind, his dark hair sleek and tied up with an intricate and delicate silvery chain. The golem is dressed in a dark coat lined with silver and dark trousers and boots which gives him a more mysterious air than usual.

Iona has yet to enter the Grind herself so she told Oren to greet Gus once he arrives instead. Waiting's no real task, so he stands there, silently staring at the door.]

[effet]

[ And on the day promised, Gus actually walks into the Grind— walks, not runs— with his hair intact, his suit starched and pressed, and with both of his eyes intact. It's been a good week for Auguste Aubert.

For once, he seems...composed. Put-together in a way that vaguely resembles his status as a young man of good standing, of someone with a proper lineage. It's not exactly the 'Gus' that people can relate to, the one that isn't above being stupid for the sake of levity, but the exuberance is still there, under all the layers and pomp. ]

—Oren! Wow, you look different.

[oren]

[Oren at first doesn't react to Gus's entrance. His eyes move, starting from the ground up until he looks at him straight in the eyes.]

...

...

...

Who are you.

[OREN]

[effet]

[ OREN?! IT'S YOUR BEST BRO...

okay, but Gus will take this...like a champ!!]

Hmm! So I'm just that dazzling tonight, huh.

[oren]

[well, if even Oren's rudeness doesn't affect him, the golem supposes that tonight might go smoothly after all.

So he bows his head halfway, out of respect.]

Iona will be ready. Last minute preparations.

Charm worked?

[effet]

It's fine, she can take her time— I came early!

[ Another thing he's done tonight that might be out of the ordinary: him being punctual. Sensibly so!

He grins, though, light and easy. ]

And yeah, not a scratch! I found this bruise this morning on my thigh, but that's just because I fell out of bed, I was excited.

[oren]

Wearing it still?

[He holds out his hand.]

Can return. Magic's worn off.

[effet]

...Huh. Can I keep it, actually? Do you need it back?

[ Pulling back, ever-so-slightly... ]

[oren]

Won't work after a while. Protection runs out.

[HAND'S STILL BEING HELD OUT, C'MON GUS...]

[effet]

[ SHRINKING BACK ]

It's my present from Iona!

[ He ruined this suave moment by being an absolute infant. ]

[oren]

[If Oren could sigh (and he can it just takes effort), he would. He continues giving Gus his ever so steely gaze.]

Iona reinforces. For you. Good practice.

[WE CAN TANGO ALL NIGHT GUS, OREN'S NOT GIVING UP]

[effet]

Well...!!

Then she can take it off for me!

[ OUT OF CONTEXT THEATER ]

[infusion]

[IF OREN COULD GROAN HE WOULD...]

Who's taking what off who now??

[... But the lady has entered. There's a soft rustle of fabric as Iona gingerly steps into the cafe. She looks... Well, if the normal Iona could be described as a wildflower, the one that stands before Gus and Oren now is like a gentle blossom. Her gown, is cream white with darker yellow flowery patterns that fade into the shimmering surface of the dress. She wears a pair of light blue crystal earrings and her hair, now combed down into softer waves is swept to one side. And instead of her usual berry lip color, it's replaced with a dustier, but sweeter shade of red.

Iona stops when she sees Gus and greets him with a smile and a tilt of her head.]

Evening! You're early!

[effet]

[ Gus is...well. Gus is dumbfounded, really, too busy taking in Iona in that dress, with that hair, and that...everything. He temporarily loses the ability to string coherent words together (along with thoughts), and so he looks at her dumbly, mouth hanging slightly open before he finds it prudent to respond to at least one of her statements. ]

...Oren wants me to take it off... Hi, Iona?

[ nailed it. ]

[infusion]

[Since Gus is too busy being, well, himself, Oren takes a large stride forward since his hand is already out so he offers it to Iona instead. She takes her golem's hand to take a few more steps inside the cafe before he closes the door behind her.]

And good evening to you too! Guess you and Oren were bonding again, huh?

[effet]

Bonding...I guess so?! He was trying to bully me again, but that's fine now— my sun and my moon and my stars is here. ♥

[ And he...kneels in front of her, god, one hand outstretched so she can hopefully put hers in his. ]

[infusion]

[Oren steps aside, this time without comment and Iona is free to beam at Gus while placing her hand in his.]

Flatterer! Make sure to save enough for the rest of the evening, please.

[God, when was the last time she went to an event as formal as this? In fact, probably, never?? (She's been to some middle school and high school dances, but those were for young people, and prom was missed...)]

Let's get going then, shall we?

[effet]

[ This is old hat to Gus— he's grown up with formalities as a large part of his entire life— but he looks excited despite the monotony of these stupid formals, gets up off the floor with a surprising ease that speaks to his upbringing. It's a weird mismatch, but he wears it well enough. ]

Après vous, mademoiselle.

[ Something Claude says with the same amount of trained chivalry: "after you". Gus leads Iona to the door and swings it open for her, holds it until she gets out...

...and then sticks his tongue out at Oren and makes as if to close it before the golem can follow. Mature. ]

[infusion]

[That's it... He's never giving Gus real sugar in the food he cooks ever again... Of course, being Oren, he doesn't make any outward reaction and simply follows the two outside.

Iona's steps are light and careful since she's not used to wearing a gown, at least not one as fancy as this (she can keep it clean with magic, thank god).]

Is the ball going to start or did it begin already and everyone's just waiting for you?

[effet]

[ This is the first time in ages where he's been genuinely excited to show up at one of these functions, so Gus's steps are light and quick; he isn't looking to brag— that would be uncouth, and most of all, rude as fuck— but he is happy to see Iona in such a nice dress. It suits her, but then again, everything does... he's weak. ]

It's started already, but the first ten minutes are usually people trying to scramble for drinks, anyway. We should get there right as Claude is trying to see himself out, actually!

[infusion]

Reallly now? Guess we won't get to see him then...

[Kind of a shame really, she felt like giving someone some grief.]

Ah, of course, can't forget this...

[With her free hand, she points at her lips and a small spark of magic bounces off of it. When she opens her mouth, it's all French.]

How do I sound? I've been kind of working on a cover story, but I might as well start with being able to actually speak the language, right?

[effet]

Hm, you never know. He might stick around if he sees you in that dress.

[ He says, with a hint of a tease somewhere between those syllables: comfortable heckling his half-brother when he's not there to hear it. ]

—And, whoa! That's perfect, ah... be still, my beating heart. How do you keep on impressing me like this...!!

[infusion]

Plenty of tricks up my sleeve. It comes with being a witch.

We better hurry before Claude leaves and everyone gets all the drinks before we can, right?

1/2

[effet]

Trust me, they never run out of drinks.

[ GRIMLY: ] Never.

[ But!! It's a good idea to hurry up, so he picks up the pace, heading for the large meeting hall they've rented out for the party proper... ]

[pragnanz]

[ ...Where Claude is already packing himself up for the day, So Fucking Done with all these morons trying to ask him underhanded questions about truly irrelevant shit. At the very least, he looks like he's having a grand old time evading comments by being passive-aggressive.

And, well.

He drifts out of the entrance hall, towards the exit...

...where he bumps into Iona and co., which he responds to with a raise of his brow and an almost reflexive 'pardon'...

...and, eventually, laughter. What a catch. ]

Ah.

My God, you three make a ragtag bunch.