Don't doubt these intentions

your veins are full of ice-water

Dawn invited rose golds to blanket the halls and foyer of the man's home, just as he invited familiar faces-friends and colleagues- in to his home; first slowly they filed in, then after a while he'd lost track of who showed and who had yet to appear, soon leaving the welcoming gig to the staff. There were many faces he expected to see, many mouths he likely wouldn't want to hear open, and many discussions he dreaded to be pulled into from every direction. While he made clear in the invitations that this was not be a political gathering, he was so sure that all it would take was one "Have you thought of this..." remark and everyone would soon chime in. He would leave that for when it would happen, however, as satisfaction would overflow from his cup this evening from the simple small victory that was welcoming his brother first to the party. Now, the two sat at his bar with their faces to the crowd, though Augustine would slowly begin to tear his attention away from the guests and bestow his brother with such a fortunate opportunity: one on one time, something Augustine failed to accomplish as of late, and when he did- he failed even moreso at being a likeable older brother, due to the constant weight of responsibility that hung so heavily from his shoulders most times. A slight stir of his drink that he let get unusually warm would prompt him to start and finish this round in a swift tip of his glass. A short knock on the table as the glass reconnected once more would urge him to pour another before chirping at his brother once again. "Maybe I went a little overboard with the guest list. " he would murmur between tastes of the liquid in his glass. Though, I dont see the other guest of honor: has she been run off already?" he was half joking, the other half wasn't entirely surprised- easily able to make himself ready to be disappointed. He would watch the door after turning his hues from his brother, eagerly awaiting the arrival-or rejection- of his new sister-in-law. Surely it wasn't the reins of war still withholding her from the duties he believed everyone still owed to society, and if not that- what else could keep her delayed? It was insulting, almost. He couldn't quite decide, but surely another round or two would help him make up his mind. I'm the meantime, he sat loosely on the stool at the bar, tossing his attention from Baptista occasionally to those giving their well wishes to- well, for now- the first half of the whole reason this party was being hosted to begin with. In the mix of it all, the behemoth would wait for more than just Rhoswen's face- ulterior motives were so easily kept under wraps when such a guise was so extravagant. Upon his arrival back home, he opened his home to the ranks of the army, often hosting small gatherings and simply getting drunk as they cursed at the Jacobites and shared their battle tales. Though it would seem not all tales were told in tall, but rather in truth: rumors turned facts would reveal a familiar officer had been captured and was locked away somewhere in the highlands. If it werent for the man holding a last name he grew so fondly of over the years, he'd leave the situation to those who spoke of it. Instead, he took it upon himself to see to it that he aided the Verlice Lieutenant Major in his journey home. He himself wouldn't go, no, but he knew of another who could easily adapt and overcome the challenges that would come with such a journey. He also knew that the Verlice man had a wife who was likely missing him so- hopefully she would have accepted his invitation, though perhaps it was best she knew little of what was to be done. All in all- nothing in this evening could be handled sober, and Augustine was well on his way to being the exact opposite of that as the night would go on. typentype "

code & art

his grin was always halfway a smile—

Baptista, for once, had been early to the party. Naturally, he hadn’t done a single thing to help set up; he’d simply watched Augustine and Lucielle direct the household staff, and drank casually at the bar directly from a bottle of whiskey over the hours until party-goers began to arrive. He has said very little to his brother since his engagement—granted, the man’s need to run off and play hero had helped considerably in keeping Baptista’s head level. Now, it’s the alcohol bolstering his mood enough to have mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Why, you’ve never gone overboard a day in your life,” Baptista drawls with a smirk and a wink. He’s straightened up enough at least since wolves began arriving that his bottle of booze has been replaced by a glass—though much like Augustine, it never stays empty for long. “You worry too much,” the younger Scowcroft comments, whilst holding his currently empty glass out to his brother when he reaches for a refill. “Rhoswen isn’t fickle. She’ll be here.” He says it with such cool confidence that one could almost mistake it as a compliment. “I assumed that was part of why you chose her,” Baptista adds on with a quirk of his brow, just in case his brother mistakenly thinks he’s in any way enamored by the lieutenant.

Sipping lazily on drink after drink, Baptista greets the guests with as much dignity as his brother, graciously accepting their congratulations with warm smiles and thanks. One cannot say that Baptista Scowcroft doesn’t play his part with pristine perfection; even the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, presenting a flawless impression of a man in love. Just like Augustine wanted.

—and halfway a threat

code // art

my demons come to play

Augustine had requested his attendance at this party, technically he had been formally invited. Odysseus obliged, assuming there was some sort of business the man wanted to discuss because why else would he be invited? No one knew his heritage or his last name, no one was aware that the dark wolf had been born noble, that he had a place amongst those who would be attending tonight. It was a time before he knew exactly how cruel this world could be. It was before Odysseus had truly embraced the darkness that shrouded his coat. To many, he was nobody, to those that did know him, well they preferred he stayed out of their social circles. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to step back into society as a proper Barin.

Stepping through the front door, he nodded to the housekeeper in greeting, offering her the same warm smile he always did. Inside, he didn't hide in the shadows or linger on the outskirts of conversations. Odysseus was social, even if he was tight lipped more often than not, he was capable of playing the part. Introductions rolled freely off his tongue as he navigated those in attendance, brushing off questions as he claimed to be a friend of Augustine. The lie would earn a sly smile from those who knew of his less than savory occupation. Chatter filled the home, the air was warm and everyone was enjoying themself. He nodded to a few familiar faces as he passed by though there was one face he was looking for. Scanning the party goers, one might assume he was just looking to see who all was here or even a pretty face to entertain himself with. In reality, he looked for the woman who had slept tucked into his side only a few nights ago.

A woman or two stopped him, stepping into his path with a sultry smile and wanton eyes. He smiled, murmuring a few sweet nothings before moving on. Not wanting to be obvious in his search for the hostess, he approached Augustine and the man child who kept him endlessly busy. "Augustine." He said by way of greeting before turning his eyes on Baptista. "Glad to see you are staying out of trouble." Inky lips still tipped up in a smirk. At least he couldn't say his life was boring.

template (c) bean

Adeline Verlice

She was usually always a woman ready to attend an extravagant party, dancing the night away while blabbering in audacious wealthy speak to any servant that passed by, toying with them until they hadn’t a pedal to stand on. Poisons she knew well enough to know if one decided to retaliate but anything cordial within her was out like a light. She didn’t even feel like foreigning any kind of social behavior to fit in with the masses, though it didn’t stop her from looking as expensive as she always did at parties. If any eye couldn’t be drawn to her, then it only proved she was failing at being the gorgeous spectacle she had always been, what she had been taught was her worth since she could remember. The scars that would change such, were well hidden under flames of fur, from the nasty bite wound that was worn like a necklace caused by that half faced lowlife to only ones from her mother to the newer scratches she had gotten from that woman in the war. It seemed this year was really testing the sides of her she never had to before, vanity still remained all the same.

It would never truly be the same until he said it, till his touch reminded her of worth the public didn’t get to witness.

She walked past many familiar faces from noble gatherings of the past, each with stories she had easily come to forget because they weren’t all that important to her. What was a displeasure was the amount of men here getting way too close for comfort as she skimmed past them, which perhaps drew more focus to her than it would’ve had she accepted it, once one so eager to gain the attention of others. Even proving herself in war, proving she could fight, she didn’t feel all that safe around grabby men but it wouldn’t stop her from taunting one of them with a sway of her hips if only to save face for the one she had made herself to be after all these years in the limelight.

It wasn’t fun anymore. None of this was. She loathed every second she was in the presence of high end buffoons she had known her whole life and she dreaded possibly seeing blood here.

Once she saw Augustine, some of that agitation would soothe but him being surrounded by so many men made her nauseous to say the least. Still, it wasn’t like she would have to mingle more than she wanted to, not about to be a socialite this evening. At least not until she had a few drinks she knew she shouldn’t have but with it so ripe in the air, her mouth watered for it while her heart ached for it to take the pain away. Ignoring the other two already with him, she would seep to the side that Baptista wasn’t on, swiping the drink from Augustine’s hand without any remorse in the matter. Far too impatient in getting a fix to wait for a server to bring her one. “I need this more than you do,” she stated with a looming side eye toward him, daring him to try to take it back before she could tip her head back and swallow it all in one ruthless gulp to numb her existence.

Everything I Touch Turns To Gold

table by rae - manip by wisper

back then, i was dauntless—

Senka is not the same woman who had left for Yorkshire. It's easy to pass it off as the grief of loss—and on some level, it is. Gods know Augustine hasn't been able to puzzle her out for months now, and she doesn't think he would recognize the truth even if it slapped him the face. Even if she outright told him. She won't, of course, but the thought lingers, and it makes her bitter. The last thing she wants to do is host this damn party, but the mayor's wife doesn't get a night off, even to grieve.

So she plasters a pleasant expression on her face, knowing that next to no one will recognize the nuances of her discomfort, and sweeps into the room.

And fuck, if she isn't aware of his presence the moment she does. It has the polarizing effect of a magnet, and she uses that draw to keep herself away, certain she can feel the prickling burn of his eyes on her skin. Senka focuses studiously on their guests, rounding the room with her usual grace, smiling her usual smiles, chatting and laughing like the best of them. She fits in here—she always has. But never before has it given her such a spine-prickling sensation, like she wants to crawl out of her own skin.

She doesn't belong here anymore.

She can feel a cloying wave of panic rising up her throat, and she shoves it down with the remainder of her drink—which looks like her preferred choice of gin. It isn't. "Excuse me," she says to whatever vapid noble she's been entertaining, smiling sweetly and using her empty glass as a ticket out to head in the direction of the bar. Senka never makes it there; she never intended to. She glances in the direction of the bar where Augustine sits, grateful to find that he isn't looking at her. She stubbornly refuses to shift her gaze a bit further to look at his company.

Confident that her husband won't notice her absence, Senka slips out the swinging back door of the foyer, depositing her empty glass on a side table as she wanders down the hall. She shoulders open the only door where she is unlikely to be bothered, shutting it softly behind her before pressing her forehead to the wood with a groan. Augustine's office smells like him, and whiskey. It's not comforting like it used to be, but it is quiet—a reprieve she desperately needs.

Just a minute or two, she swears. Just a few minutes, and she'll go back to being the picture of composure.


temp exit to this thread

—i'd burn so bright it blinded

code // art