"Oh I'm sorry to hear that," Carrot Top replied, looking earnestly regretful for Fletcher. "I didn't mean to drag up painful memories."

"No, no, no," a happily buzzed Theodore interjected. "He's not being fully honest with you," he admitted, leaning in to the other man who equally leaned in as well. "You see he's got himself someone. Veeeeeeery pretty—or at least so I've been told. Quite a tease though. And you know how this time of year is—everyone in the romantic mood. Everyone wants to be with their families. And then come January we have all the messes with the break ups and the draaaama and the scandaaaal. So what can you do? He's kind of in that limbo rut right now."

"Pretty you say?" The blonde—Freckles, Theo named him—piped up as he blew smoke rings. "Is she feisty?"

"Is she blonde? Or curvy?" His friend Spectacles chimed in.

"Do they like to read or bake?" Carrot Top was quick to add in as their little group expectantly looked to Fletcher for answers.

Theo began to knock the drinks back faster, and suddenly Fletcher wasn't so certain that the small plate he'd force fed the man still stood between him and a night spent holding Theo's hair back. But there was only one way to learn this particular lesson, and Theo was a grown man, and he'd work through it one way or another. Still, Fletch didn't realize just how tipsy the man had become until he placidly allowed himself to be pulled along by a complete stranger. Fletch followed along dutifully into a much quieter room.

He quickly realized what this was: men escaping their women for a moment of peace. If they hadn't all been nobility, he'd have felt at ease. Hell, they even treated him like one of them, here. As it was, though, he couldn't let his guard down entirely — but he did relax a bit now that they were finally out of sight of the girl. He declined the cigarette, opting to pull out his own case instead.

"I'll not turn down a smoke inside, though," he chuckled. "Thanks. And, er, Daw. Jack Daw." He busied himself lighting his smoke and leaned back against the wall, glancing briefly at Theo, who seemed to have gotten progressively more drunk in the last few minutes alone. Well. Fletch supposed carrying him to the carriage was one way out of this place. He returned his attention to Ginger and allowed a sly grin to break his usual ornery scowl.

"Been there. Done that. Can't recommend it, chaps, honestly. One good thing about being a widower, though: it's a great excuse to be a rake. No one looks twice at you for it."

Theo sulked until rough fingers were prying his own and the drink had returned to his hand. Then, he gave Fletcher a nod of thanks as Edwina carted him back into the throng.

The commotion as it turned out was another newly engaged couple announcing their good news. Theo downed his drink quickly and handed it off to a passing tray as he grabbed another to toast the couple. Edwina bounced excitedly beside him nearly spilling his drink in her own tipsy excitement. She quickly abandoned his side though to squeal and cheer with her friends as Theo hung back and simply watched.

He was so deep in his thoughts watching her though that when a hand latched onto his forearm and began to drag him along to another room, he simply went along with it, assuming that it was likely Fletcher. Given that he was deaf, he completely missed the future groom and the other engaged or married men encouraging him to join them in another room away from the dance floor where they could all smoke or drink in peace away from their women and the music.

"—man come too," a bright-ginger haired man said to Theo as he finally focused on the one dragging him along. 'Carrot top is NOT Devlin. Devly. Deviled Eggs.' The nobleman giggled softly to himself, knowing full well Fletcher would have something to say about that being his new nickname.

"It's so good to have you join us Honorable Lord Archer. I mean I've always wanted to make your acquaintance but you're such a hard man to approach and I mean I'm just me but like I have genuine deep respect for you sir. Would you like another drink sir? I see yours is empty—"

Theo blinked as he glanced and saw his drink was indeed empty. When had that happened? He took a seat on one of the room's many couches as another glass was pressed into his hand and the men passed pipes or cigarettes out among each other. Even Fletcher was offered some of each and seemingly treated as an equal rather than a servant once they all settled about the room.

"Perks of being engaged am I right?" A blonde man piped up as he elbowed a brunette beside him. "No more whining and decorations and boring conversations. Just a couple of dances, some nods of agreement, and now we can escape in here to have our own parties the way we want them to be. Let the ladies have fun to their heart's content. And then when you get them home," he wiggled his brows and made a rude gesture that had Theo looking away with a blush to sip at his drink. Was this the third? Fourth? Fifth maybe?

He looked to Carrot Top in time to see the man apparently asking Fletcher a question—his name? Ah that made sense. Oh and there he went continuing with the talking. Theo blinked again, emptying his glass and smiling as someone filled it again for him. 

"Do you have a partner? Married or soon to be too?"

Fletch rolled his eyes and sidestepped the nobleman's dramatic attempt to take his sword. Instead, he snatched up Theo's drink, pried open his fingers and pressed the glass into his hand. "Your drink, sir," he said as if to add some formality and a reason for touching the man. Up ahead of them, back inside, a commotion had risen abruptly, with nobles crowded around something that Fletcher couldn't see. "What now?" he grumbled.

The look Theodore gave Fletcher was completely scandalized. Behave? Him?! He was the one with the parasite attached to him. How was he in the wrong here?

Desperately he attempted to peel the other woman off who seemed to cling all the tighter. "Lady Obower can we not get my best bodyguard fired please? He is meant to be our chaperone. This behavior is most unbecoming!"

"Oh Teddy must you be such a spoilsport? We're engaged and it's nearly Yule? Can't I even have just one kiss? We are to be married after all. What could one kiss hurt?"

Again he looked in panic to Fletcher before yanking her hands off his person and holding them firmly in his own. "As the lady wishes." Theo bent over their joined hands and kissed the back of each of hers. "There. Two kisses for the twice as lovely lady. Now shall we rejoin the others?"

Edwina pouted by latched onto his arm all but dragging him back off the balcony. Theo for his part made a half-hearted attempt to reach for Fletcher's blade again, wanting nothing more than to put himself out of this misery. 

Fletch jumped at her sudden arrival and narrowly rescued Theo's second drink from spilling over the side of the balcony. He scowled, watching irritably as the girl brazenly pushed his lover around. And oh, the audacity of her words. Like Theo was hers to command. They weren't even married and here she was openly trying to involve another man. "He doesn't wish," he snapped without hesitation before sliding back into playing his part. "Sir, really. I could get fired for this. Can't the two of you behave?"

Saoirse blinked at him for a moment, ignoring the obvious red light blinking on his figure in the moment. If it was important to her own personal wellbeing he would have told her what it was about, but also she had a sneaking suspicion it was very similar to the ring she had given to the priest months ago back in that town in Connlaoth. She assumed it had a pair, or multiple pairs, that linked together to send a signal. Was she curious? Sure. Would it consume her? No. She was over one hundred years old and time passed much differently to her than it did to humans. The answers would come to light in their own time and she would worry about it – or not – at that time.

Then she laughed, a pure crystal-like laugh, and looked down at the swan neck and back up to Dao.

"I suppose gourds look like swans, yes." She admitted, and then continued to sweep the blade masterfully across the wood until a rudimentary swan body complete with a lightly fluttering wing began to form.

"Here." She handed the piece back to him, "You can finish it if you like or toss it in your pile of rejects." Her words were warm and kind with not a small amount of mirth mixed in. It had been a long time since she had woken from uninterrupted rest and everything about her seemed to sparkle because of it in a way that none of them had seen before. The gold in her hair was practically stardust against the sunlight and here eyes bright and alert. The last time she had felt like this had been that night she had met Opus for the first time. Now, with sleep finally acquired, she practically exuded her elfishness like an aura that encompassed her and not just because her ears were prominently poking through the braids in her hair. Even her skin seemed to glow, though that only every really happened in moonlight.

She eyed him again when he suggested a drinking competition and pondered for a moment. On one hand it seemed like it could be fun – she'd never actually tested her constitution in human liquor though she had drunk a few ales here and there and determined them to be....mediocre at best.

Finally she shrugged, "As long as you recognize you're not up against a weak human and doing this isn't going to cause Opus to throw you into the sea, why not?"

She leaned forward until her face was close to his and smiled mischievously, "I hope that vampirism thing gave you some extra help."

Jin smiled widely as she ate, his grin expanding when she realized just how delicious the buns were any why he had insisted on returned to this location just so he could share in that experience. It was godly! He wasn't a religious man, but when it came to good food it was like he was experiencing the divine and believed, if only for a moment, that some giant sticky-bun in the sky was smiling down upon them.

The family that made these must be made up of prophets sent to spread the word of the great lord Bun.

"Good, yeah? More than good! That'll sure make Lord Bun proud of our worship no matter how you shake it." His grin got even wider, "It'll put hair on your chest! But the good kind! The kind that's covered in cinnamon and sugary goodness."

Oh blessed Bun he was glad to see her smile.

"Hey." He sat down at the table and leaned eagerly on his elbow while looking straight at her with a kind of innocence you just didn't see in people these days – and it was sincere. Jin was exactly the person people saw. He was completely and unapologetically him.

"I have a question for you, but I don't want to be all rude like." He leaned forward a little more and took a big slurp of frosting off his finger before continuing.

"Is your name really Necklace? Seems like a right odd name to me – no offense! You seem like a really nice lady and you can't choose your parents or what nonsense they decide to name you!" then he thought for a moment and bit his lip, "And if you named yourself then it's real pretty." He added as a quick afterthought.

Yeah, that about covered it!

Snarg didn't even blink when the man decided to start shouting. He knew this kind of person. He worked with and against his kind nearly every day on every job he took and was so comfortable with being yelled at he didn't even flinch when bits of spittle landed on his face. If anything, it just made him more tired and caused his pounding head to threaten to split open at any given moment. Snarg might be a dog, but this man was a gnat; annoying but easy to ignore and easier to squash.

There were a dozen was he would be able to bring him down without killing him, and at least two dozen ways he could die. It would be so easy to snake an arm up and squeeze his throat until his neck snapped, or he could throw his blade directly into his eye...Snarg was good at killing. Killing is what brought him to this particular reality and was the only skill he had left anymore.

He was a monster.

And yet he just sat there, unmoving, barely giving the man any attention other than his initial comments which had only fueled his vitriol.

Obvious. This man was so unoriginal. He would die forgotten.

And then....the sound of soft plops in the sand brought Snarg's attention back to the situation at hand and he looked down to his right to see a number of sausages. No...not sausages, fingers.

He raised an eyebrow as the screaming began and spent just enough energy to raise his head an look at Kiri who now stood.

Huh. Well, that was unexpected.

But what had he expected? He didn't know this woman or her tendencies towards....whatever this was. Was she protecting him or was she just looking for someone to maim?

"I'd run, if I were you." He murmured softly, still staying seated in the exact spot where he was before with his blades undrawn.

Dao blinked and cocked his head. The little piece of wood now had a more obvious shape to it than the splintered lump he had been widdling. His smiled, of course, Dao was always smiling, but before he could say something a simple, small ring on his finger began to pulse with a soft red light.

Dao looked towards the light a moment, lightly touching the ring, and the pulsing light had stopped. Then he went back to examining this swan.

"I dunno.. " he went on, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. "Looks more like a gourd to me."
He shrugged and smiled, returning his gaze to Saoirse.

"We still have some time to kill.. want to see how many drinks it takes for us to get drunk?"