Snippet #2060214

The faerie prince hardly needed to be dragged, having been the one to propose that they journey together to the nest of containers of alcohol that had been assembled. His steps were light and sure as he gallivanted along with Graham in his usual spritely fashion. If anything, the Mori might find himself the one being tugged, bringing to mind the image of a particularly energetic puppy using the tether of its leash to enthusiastically drag its owner about. Of course, the idea of anyone leashing Aaron, much less owning him, was dubious at best.

He had not responded to the older boy’s replies. That he’s agreed to accompany him was all that truly mattered. He had no urge to dignify the obvious insinuation of Graham’s teaching him of certain crimes with his attention, or to agree to any sort of promise regarding his potential regrets. In his admittedly haphazard study of the supernatural beings which had made a legacy of their blood, he’d learned well enough that making promises to either fae or demon was a fool-hardy thing to do. He fully reserved the right to regret every second of the experience, if he chose, but it would have been in poor taste to make that so explicit audibly.

When Graham released him to survey their drinking options, Aaron let his attention wander away from his companion toward the others who had assembled in proximity of the social lubricants. Many of them were the same lot who’d dared not to join the festivities in earnest, but it seemed that almost everyone who hadn’t wandered off was being drawn inexorably toward the makeshift beverage center. He saw Artemis move off toward the compound for some purpose, saw Fleet and Hazel in conversation. He smiled to Tally, letting his chin dip in a nod her way. She was drinking beer, one of the only sorts of liquid intoxicant that he did have some experience with, none of it good. The only positive thing he could think to say of it was that, when cold, it could be fairly refreshing… but that was true of almost any liquid intended for cold consumption. He could say quite a few negative things about it as well, but didn’t, merely noting what she was drinking instead.

Elvis, Harvey, Something, Vendicare. Seph as well, and Wynston. He spared a glance Graham’s way to see what progress he was making and found him staring at a wine bottle contemplatively, but he was more interested in what the others were up to. He’d seen Harvey dancing with Something and actually been surprised that the usually caustic Harvey, the last one he would have expected to give in to the celebration, was actually having a bit of fun. He waggled his fingers Seph’s way, smiling brightly, and then frowning when she didn’t seem to notice that she had his attention. He couldn’t quite make out what was being said from his vantage point, but he certainly saw what followed the exchange of words between the Balaren girl and surly Omarain boy. Artemis had returned with food, he noted.

His laughter was just as musical as any other sound he made. As the beer dripped down Harvey’s face, though, there was a subtle note of scorn laced through it. Firelight and mirth danced in his eyes as he watched for a few more seconds, bringing his hands together in polite applause even as Seph took her leave. Smirking Harvey’s way, he let his eyebrows lift a bit on his brow, then shook his head. The electrical Navarene got his shots in first, but the faerie prince was quick to follow. ”You certainly have a way with the gentler sex, cousin. They hardly seem so gentle when you’re around.” he remarked, lifting his voice to be heard above any competing sounds without actually stooping to the indignity of shouting.

His gaze trailed away from Harvey, toward the towering Elvis, the roughly-hewn Vendicare, and the authoritative Wynston. He pursed his lips as he tried to sort out exactly why that arrangement seemed a bit tense, but was unable to reach any meaningful verdict. Instead, when he formed his mouth into a sultry curve and tried to catch the eyes of Elvis and Vendi, since Wynston was facing away from him. That was all he offered, a flirtatious little smirk, before he rounded to check on Graham’s progress.

The prior song ended, and without teenage lust to distract him, Aaron seamlessly transitioned to the next song in his impromptu play-list. He verged a bit closer, laying his hand on the small of Graham’s back thoughtlessly as he poured. The way that the teacup was thrust at him was nearly alarming, enough so that he felt a tiny thrill build up and die. It was the same feeling one had when almost anything was quickly coming at their face, but he neither shied away nor threw his hands up to block. Instead, he brought both hands up, touching them to the somewhat absurd vessel that Graham had chosen for the cabernet. He didn’t take it though, not immediately. The Mori would be forced to either let it fall, or to continue holding it at Aaron’s full lips while he loomed so close.

He arched a blond eyebrow as the characteristics of the wine were laid out for him. ”Olive and oak, coconut and chocolate? You smell all of that? I can’t imagine how it tastes.” His nose wrinkled, and his voice bore a hint of derision that was just as noticeable as the olive top note of the deep red wine in the teacup. He did sniff, though… and tried to smell all of the things Graham was describing. He didn’t, of course. To him it smelled just slightly like acetone and berries. There was a certain sharpness to the scent that was almost oily in nature; not that it smelled like oil, but that it smelled like it might feel oily on his tongue. He finally accepted the teacup by its pert handle, frowning into the liquid as if he expected to see his fortune in the dregs at the bottom. ”How long must I wait? he asked, glancing up again.



The Wind-Touched Guardian’s spine straightened slightly as Hazel came closer, and his eyes grew just a bit wider when she embraced him. When her lips brushed his cheek, they grew wider still. An instant later, Hazel would find herself in a bit of disarray as the wind-formerly-known-as-Fleet swirled and gusted about her, surely wreaking havoc on her hairstyle before it slipped out of her arms and skirted a few yards away.

He became flesh and blood once more staring at the ground. His cheeks were very red, though they’d only seem dark in the lack of light. He let out a very loud, awkward laugh, hahaha, then reached up to rub at the back of his neck. ”Oh I’m not sad, I’m not, don’t you worry, not at all.” He laughed again, the same awkward, bleating sound. ”Oh look, Artemis brought finger sandwiches. I bet they don’t have any fingers or sand or witches in them!” With that, he adjusted his hat and took off at an ungainly, loping pace for the little snack area that his fellow Navarene had set up.

His head bobbed as ungainly as anything else he did to Aaron’s music, and then he remembered to snatch up a plate before loading it up with goodies. He was still blushing, and his lips were moving, but if he was saying anything at all he was sub-vocalizing it.