somethingwithturquoise | Frontenac Suite; Wednesday Evening [10/23].

Stark had picked up a poutine shot so he could stare at it closely in horror.

Then he'd gotten rid of it, quickly. Best not to tempt fate (or Summer).

Uh-oh, Stark! Apparently, not quick enough, because, out of practically no where, all of asidden, there was Summer, right there beside you, and pouting.

"Awww," she said, adding to the mewling disappointment with a hand on his shoulder and arm kiss on his cheek. "You're not going to try it?"

"I'm appreciating it from a distance?"

Weak, Stark.

"Maybe if you get me so drunk I pass out I'll consider it? For now I'll try the others."

"I'll have to just keep an eye on you, I guess," Summer decided,"to get you in that delicate balance moment before you pass out."

She was handing him a Maple Almond, though, so clearly they were on the right path.

"Thanks for all the help earlier," she added, maybe unnecessarily, because it had been both handwavey and pretty much a given.

Edited 2024-10-23 15:52 (UTC)

"Or you could keep me awake and alert," Stark suggested. "At least for now."

He took the shot though. Of course. "Very nice. And cute! And maple."

And not poutine flavored at all! Just what he'd wanted.

"I'm glad i could help. I'm always happy to. Even if helping means you have the opportunity to make... those."

He gestured vaguely at the poutine shots.

"Don't you try to squash my artistic spirit," Summer said, lifting her chin loftify with a toss of her ponytail. "My genius will not be restricted!"

She then grinned at Stark. "Besides," she said, "admit it. If I didn't make...those....you would have been disappointed."

"I would have been concerned you were ill," Stark told her before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"And then, perhaps, a tiny bit disappointed. But you never disappoint with jello. Horrify and frighten and disgust but never, ever disappointing."

"Oh, darling, just give into fate," Liliana advised. "We both know how this will end."

"It's not fate," Stark said. "I don't have to eat any of the things that are horrible!"

Sure, he consumed them often enough but he wasn't being forced into it.

"Good of you to come, Liliana."

Sure Stark. No, you weren't forced to eat them, but...

"Thank you, darling. We couldn't not. I mean, I couldn't not, because I adore parties, and Ignis couldn't not because, regardless of everything else, he knows not to cross Summer."

He did it to himself, Liliana. That was the worst part.

"I try never to cross her myself," Stark said mildly. "You warned Ignis about the poutine? And the... other poutine?"

"Oh, Ignis didn't need me to warn him," Liliana tsked, since the suggestion that he would need a warning wouldn't endear Stark to him any further. "He noted that as soon as we came in. And promptly chose to pretend it didn't exist."

Who said anything about need? Saying 'there's a horrible thing on that table' was just proof you cared!

"Wise of him," Stark said, nodding. "The others I've tried have been good. And the chips. I didn't know they came in some of these flavors."

Leaving things unspoken was part of how they worked. Liliana and Ignis proved they cared through elaborate games that they made up as they were playing and didn't inform the other that they'd started, as seeing how fast the other caught on was half of the fun.

Sort of like the game they were currently playing with his glasses.

"I admit, I'm dubious about a lot of these things. Ketchup is barely an acceptable condiment, who decided to turn it into a chip?"

Game? Surely the lack of sunglasses in the entire province was a serious matter.

"I think it tastes better than the actual ketchup," Stark offered. "And the pickle ones are quite good."

It was a shocking state of affairs, that was for certain!

"It would almost have to," Liliana sniffed. "...Though the pickle ones might be worth investigating."

No one could have predicted such a thing!

"There are plenty of other things to eat if you'd rather not. But I do recommend the pickle chips. And if they're terrible..."

Stark shrugged. "You can always get rid of the taste with some jello. The little leaf ones are good."

"And it's true I haven't whurr-whurr'd at Ignis in awhile..." Liliana mused thoughtfully, making a noise that might be generously considered a microwave sound if one knew what it was meant to be in advance. "I suppose if someone else is having some, I'll steal one from their plate or whatnot."

"Whurr whurr?" Stark echoed curiously.

"If I get some more chips would you like one?"

He was already headed for the chips.

As she knew he would.

"You know when Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose and looks like he's questioning why the gods would make a world full of this much suffering for him personally?" Liliana said, with utmost fondness.

"I'm very familiar with that look of his," Stark said with a soft sigh. "Yes."

He held out a plate newly full of chips.

"That noise is one of the ways I can summon it on command," Liliana preened, studying the chips carefully before plucking one from the plate.

She sniffed it. Touched her tongue to one side. Considered. And finally popped it into her mouth. "Not the worst thing," she declared.

Reaching for another.

"Why would I offer you the worst thing? You aren't Anakin. He deserves it."

One of Liliana's arched. "Why does Anakin deserve the worst thing?" she asked while nibbling on her third chip.

She needed to know, Stark. Dish.

"Because he's Anakin."

Stark grinned.

"He's one of my oldest friends. But you've seen what he does on Wednesdays."

"Ugh."

So yes, she did remember what he did on Wednesdays. "Pudding in my cleavage."

Sure that had been McGarrett's fault, but who was the reason it was even possible?

Stark paused for a moment to consider that mental image.

"He's terrible," Stark said fondly. "So sometimes he deserves a terrible thing or two."

"So, you're telling me that your tendency to bond over terrible things didn't start with Summer but is, instead, the natural conclusion of an already-existing habit," Liliana said, regarding him. "I see."

"No, he didn't subject me to anything terrible when we were both students here. It just happens now. He started it."

Maybe they'd bonded over being enslaved children? And space people?

One could make the argument that being an enslaved child was, in fact, a terrible thing.

"And how exactly did he start it?"

Well, yes, but they hadn't done that together!

"With Wednesdays. And dumping ice water on me at prom once."

Stark had deserved that bucket.

Ignis had no intention of suffering the consequences that might befall him for missing out on a Summer School Trip Room Party, so he would of course be there that evening, mildly judging her choices of wine, being mildly impressed with (most of) her jello recipehs, and dedicatedly ignoring the notion the the words 'poutine punchbowl' had ever been uttered by anyone ever.

Sans glasses, of course, still having, oh so inconveniently, not had the time to replace his broken ones. Which he may be starting to grow a touch more self-conscious about, but he told himself as long as he remembered to blink on occasion and keep a 'roaming gaze', everything should be fine and not too uncomfortable for everyone else.

"Hey Ignis, how've you been?" Dean asked, his plate filled in poutine.

Like Dean would skip out on a poutine punchbowl.

"It's been a minute since we ran into each other."

"Dean," Ignis greeted him back with a nod, and a distinct blink, and a soft smile, not at all surprised by the distinct eau du poutine wafting from the other man presently. "It has been a while, hasn't it? And I've been doing well, thank you. Yourself? Have you been enjoying Québec thus far?"

"I've got a butler, room service, easy access to good whiskey," Dean chuckled. "Can't complain about that in the slightest. How about yourself?"

"Oh, Québec has suited us greatly," Ignis admitted, with the smile on his face easy and content and actually perceptible. "The food has been truly fantastic,but I expected no less from a city whose culture lies heavily in the heritage of its French founders, but we've explored quite a bit of the native culinary culture, as well, which has been particularly inspiring. I'll have to make sure to stock up on some of that whiskey myself before we leave."

Maybe when they finally went shopping to replace those glasses!

"I'll hand off the name of the maple whiskey I found at a local bar yesterday to Liliana," Dean replied. "Local distillery that makes it. It's not a sweet whiskey but it has just a touch of maple. I'd tell you what it is but I can't pronounce it."

"I'm sure it will be quite safe in her hands," Ignis said, with a bit of a lift in the corner of his mouth. "And thank you, for the recommendation. I'm looking forward to trying it. I often find that some of my favorite drinks wind up being incredibly difficult to pronounce."

“Probably easier for you than me,” Dean said with a sigh.

Did Dean spent yesterday afternoon drinking Canada's best whiskey? Yes. Does that mean he'd probably skip tonight's party because he spent yesterday drinking Canada's best whiskey?

Absolutely not.

He had two bourbon cider jello shots in his hand and was definitely enjoying the music vibe even if it was music after 1979.

"Dean!" Even if she wasn't already few shots, both jello and whiskey, in by the time she got to him, she would have still been thrilled to see him. If any of the jello shots weren't moving,she was confident in her ability to get him to dwindle their numbers a bit. Like, he was no Raiden, sure, but there would always be frogs' legs.

"Hi! Welcome to your first school trip mid-week room party!"

"Oh, is this a regular thing?" Dean asked, cheerfully. "See if I knew about this I would have probably taken a class sooner. Loving the bourbon jello shots and when I'm done with this I'm hitting the poutine bowl you have over there."

Summer positively beamed at that plan. She knew she could count on you, Dean!

"It's a tradition!" she explained happily. "I started doing it as a way to sort of soothe the pain of not having my usual bar shift on the school trips,and I've kept it up ever since, no matter what the situation. Some trips are easier than others. Last trip, we were all shoved into a stupidly tiny room, and one time, I had to do it without electricity because we're were staying at some closed down haunted amusement park. But this year is great! This room's the perfect balance between the crazy fancy shit and the really basic bitch shit."

"Well, I'm going to have to make sure I'm on the next trip," Dean said grabbing a beer. Because there's no way I'm staying home after this trip and having to make do with a Tino cocktail. Which just sounds... depressing."

"Anything involving Tino is depressing," Summer agreed, crinkling her nose. And then that nose wrinkle grew into a 'bleh', complete with stuck out tongue and a vaguely nauseated look.

"I just remembered," she said, "I'm going to have to hear all about the fake trip he totally didn't take instead of going on this to try and one-up when I get back."

"He lies about taking vacation?" Dean asked in disgust. "That's disgusting. Make sure I'm around when he tries that and I'll throat punch him."

"Somehow, being pressed makes the flannel only look more egregious," Liliana noted.

Or, 'Hello Dean,' as some people might say.

"I had to balance out your outfit," Dean said, checking out Liliana's outfit. "Otherwise your dress would cause more problems with global warming."

"That was actually suave, darling," she purred, giving him a grin. "I'm impressed. Thank you. I do adore an excuse to get dressed up."

"So what would be your excuse today?" Dean joked. "It's Wednesday?"

"And this dress makes my ass look fantastic," Liliana said cheerfully.

Listen, her normal dress might have been a showcase for her impressive cleavage and her equally-impressive legs, but a fur mantle did not for rear end showcasing make. Sometimes it was nice to remind people she had multiple physical assets.

"Have you been enjoying your vacation, darling? Missing the chair?"

“Well it’s my second vacation in fifteen years and I haven’t had to do anything with supernatural or risk my so… It’s nice. But weird,” Dean admitted. “I mean I’m having fun and everything but I keep waiting for it all to go to crap.”

"Oh, you should have been around for the last one then," Liliana said in a hard voice. "We seemed to be staying at a lovely hotel and resort, but then a theme park crashed into it."

“I’m going to take a hard pass on that one,” Dean replied. “I’m enjoying the whiskey and just hanging with people.”

"Oh, that wasn't even the worst of it," Liliana said. "It's like your...didn't you mention once that there were books written about you and your brother? And a convention?"

"Hello, Dean. Welcome to one of Summer's room parties!"

It was also Stark's room, sure, but he wasn't about to take any party credit.

"So the party is all her and not you?" Dean joked. "Surely she makes you do something. The heavy lifting? Decorations?"

"I helped," Stark said. "Some. But she does all of the difficult parts. And she's solely responsible for all the jello."

Nobody else wanted credit for that, though.

"Yeah, no one can make a jello shot like her," Dean said eyeing one jello shot in particular.

"She prides herself on that."

Stark, that was obvious to everyone.

"And she's very good at coming up with strange things and delicious ones. You just have to stay alert and aware of what you might pick up."

"Well, I've had Tino's Malort Pie so I don't think there's anything that Summer could throw at me now that I wouldn't take. Mostly."

"You really shouldn't say things like that out loud," Stark said with a sigh.

"She's going to have to try and do worse than that, now."

And it would be all Dean's fault!

"I hope you learned never to eat anything Tino makes again?"

Whether or not Gladio actually planned on playing bouncer like Summer suggested in her text was yet to be seen, but he was more than content in grabbing one of those beers and doing a little socializing while performatively sticking close to the door to give off the bouncer vibe.

"Have you ever had to kick someone out of one of these?" Liliana asked, since she hadn't seen the school in its heyday, nor did Summer seem the type to get upset over it becoming a little rowdy.

"Maybe I had to do a little student herding back in the old days," Gladio said with a faint smirk, "back before those lines started to blur as much as they do now. But, you know,gotta applaud Summer's caution. Better safe than sorry."

Did he sound like he believed even a single word out of his own mouth? Nope! Not even a little!

"Oh of course," Liliana said with similar amounts of sincerity. "This is a highly respectable and regulated school function, obviously. The Dean is even here!"

As Gladio knew, being the bouncer and all.

"Does Nell come to these, darling?"

"Nah," Gladio said, shaking his head a little, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Not really her scene. These things just make her feel awkward and uncomfortable, but, hey, you'll be gladio to hear this. She's using the time to have a little her-time at the spa and in the room tonight, so pretty good deal for her all around." He flashed Liliana a grin. "Pampering and not having me around to constantly distract her."

Liliana did, in fact, grin. "Excellent," she said. "A lovely evening all around."

Digs at Gladio aside, she was genuinely pleased to hear that Nell was taking time to be indulged and pampered. The more she shucked the beliefs of her old life, the better off she'd be.

Sometimes it makes felt like tye things Gladio and Liliana could agree on were few and far between, but that was something they would emphatically be in step on.

"Yeah," his smile went a little pleased and fond. "Probably getting the better evening out of the two of us."

Days when Ignis skipped workouts to be with her probably weren't helping. Oh well.

"Have Nell text you when she's finally emerged from the spa and sneak away," Liliana suggested. "I'm sure by the time she's a limp dishrag, she'll appreciate having you carry her back to the suite."

Yelena walked into the suite, sizing it up and grabbing a French Martini jello shot immediately as soon as she saw it. She did raise an eyebrow at the poutine punchbowl. Was that a Canada thing or a Summer thing.

Downing the shot and then grabbing a puppers, she leaned against the wall, sipping and silently observing everyone and their outfits. When she realized the playlist was 100% Canadian, she shook her head with a grin. “When in Canada,” she chuckled and started drinking her beer in earnest.

Edited 2024-10-23 14:40 (UTC)

"Ohmygod, Yelena!" Summer, who had kept things light and simple and clearly leaned into the fact that she did not need to go outside to party tonight, greeted her with enthusiasm and her attention laser-focused on the most important thing:

"Those boots are to die for."

Well. Maybe not die for. Definitely kill for, though!

Edited 2024-10-23 15:32 (UTC)

"They are perfect for hiding things to stab people with," Yelena said with a smirk.

Truth? Joke? Let's not dive into that.

"But I love your outfit! And of course always your trademark color!.

If that was just a joke, Summer was going to be so disappointed.

"Yeah, not much hiding going on in a dress like this!" she sang with a laugh that seemed to be asking or WAS THERE?

Hopefully, they wouldn't find out, because Summer did not want to deal with Anakin or hotel management on that level.

"But thank you! I am very good at branding. How've you been liking the trip so far? It's your first one of these full-ass trips, right?"

Clearly, field trips for classes didn't count!

"The trip has been fantastic. There's a small problem with my room but we are working through it," Yelena said with a smile. "Yesterday there was shopping. Before that a spa day. After being stuck on the island with only your class to get a chance to leave it? It's been heaven."

"What was the small problem with your room?" Summer asked.

Because obviously she had to, Yelena! Come on!

Yelena let out a small snort. "Well apparently I'm living in a bad hallmark movie as I am stuck in the same room as Adrian and of course there is only one bed," she complained and took a big swig of her beer. "Next thing you know, we’ll be snowed in with no cell service."

Summer took a moment to look across the room at Adrian. Then back to Yelena. Then back to Adrian. And then she shook her head.

"Yeah, I'm not seeing the problem here?" she asked, concluding with a truly puzzled look that might be speculating on the level of Yelena's sanity.

"Well, okay," she amended a second later, "you didn't say a small problem, but still! Gurl."

Yelena gave Summer a blank look, turned and looked at Adrian and then back to Summer with the same blank look. Whatever Summer was talking about out just didn’t click with Yelena.

There was something. Unease. Unknowable. So… Something but it just didn’t click yet.

She shrugged. “I shoved him out of bed by accident and he breathes too loud. That’s a problem.”

Liliana adored being observed*, especially in her party outfits, so you go right ahead, darling.

"Yelena, right?" she asked, eventually gliding over with her...somethingeth...jello shot of the evening. "We've overlapped on several of the Supper Club nights. I don't believe I saw you at the last one, though. Not a sushi fan, darling?"

[*Some restrictions and caveats applied]

"I adore sushi but I had to work late that day," Yelena explained. "I had to put in some extra security protocols for the gremlins."

Which is code for forcing them to make her a coffee order and stop working elsewhere.

"I love your outfit though! Fabulous. It's Liliana, yes?"

"Thank you, darling, and correct on both counts," she said, extending a chilly hand. "Liliana Vess. And you are looking fantastic. I love those boots."

Expect to hear that a lot tonight, Yelena. Those boots were cute as fuck.

"Thank you!" She said looking pleased as she shook Liliana's hand. "The dead body I took them off was very compliant."

Joke? Sure! Sure it was.

"They often are," Liliana agreed with a laugh. She patted her headdress with a smug little smile. "The best part is when they hand over the things you want themselves. It's not grave-robbing if they're giving it to you."

Joke? Sure! Sure it was.

"That’s one way to look at it," Yelena said, taking a sip of her drink, clearly amused by the conversation. "If they’re handing it over, it’s practically a gift, right? I love the headress. Very high fashion and yet... sinister."

"Why thank you, darling. I took it as a trophy from an angel." She was preening, absolutely because, fun fact! Liliana loathed angels. "I took it and then left her to my zombies. It was delightful."

Edited 2024-10-23 19:23 (UTC)

"Oh, that's not terrifying at all," Yelena quipped dryly, raising an eyebrow as she sized up Liliana. "Angels, zombies... So, let me guess, you're one of those magical types who can bend time, space, and raise the dead?"

Look, she's been on the island a few months now. And she had magic-weirdos from her reality. Why wouldn't she take that in stride?

And also filing away that knowledge for further use down the road.

"I cannot bend time and my relationship with space is a little more complicated," Liliana said. "But I am a necromancer, yes. One with an antipathy for angels, which I am delighted to discover is a common viewpoint for our island. And yourself?"

You can tell her you were an assassin, Yelena! She's known many!

“For angels to exist there would have to be a god and and I don’t buy into that bullshit,” Yelena said with a bit of a grunt. “Oh sure my reality has a Thor and everything but the holy afterlife crap isn’t my thing. Clearly it is for your reality but definitely not for mine.”

"Oh no, nothing like that," Liliana scoffed. "To be fair, I grew up worshipping the creator of angels as a god, but once I became a Planeswalker, I realized that Serra was nothing of the sort. Or rather..." She frowned. "Many of us were worshipped as gods, and some people created planes and creatures for that very reason, but none of us were divine. Simply powerful."

As if there had been anything 'simple' about an Oldwalker's power.

"Holiness, afterlives, the kind of thing people associate with divinity, that's all nonsense. Angels were just a race of creatures Serra created because, oh, I don't know. She had an affinity for pigeons and self-righteousness?"

Go to Theros and say that, Liliana.

“… There’s a lot you just said that makes no sense to me,” Yelena said with a shrug. “But I think we are of a similar mindset. Just different backgrounds and vastly different experiences.”

"What most people think of as gods are probably just very powerful beings that convinced the weak and gullible to worship them as some kind of power trip," Liliana summarized. "And in my Multiverse, angels are self-righteous, judgmental bastards who haven't had the decency to be turned into a down comforter yet."

Tell us how you really feel, Lili.

“I love a good down comforter,” Yelena smirked, watching and appreciating Liliana’s mini-rant. “Are angel feathers better than goose feathers? Or does it just make the comforter feel self-righteous when you go to bed?”

"They're far softer, but you do wake up feeling holier-than-thou in the morning," Liliana replied with a laugh. "Let me know if you're ever curious to try one out for yourself."

Joke? Sure! Sure it was.

“Pretty sure I would be desecrate the thing before I got a good night’s sleep just by touching it,” Yelena joked.

Liliana laughed again. "Darling, why would you possibly think that's a negative?" She paused to do another jello shot - not the poutine. "And I'm fascinated to hear what you might do to desecrate something worse than a necromancer would."

These hotel rooms didn't provide much in the form of good lurking corners, but Stewart was there doing his best anyway, with a Puppers in hand and trying not to look too smug over the fact that Summer had clearly taken a good deal of his suggestions for her playlist of Canadian artists to heart.

Everytime a Keys N Krates song popped up, it felt like a small but important victory.

"You," Liliana said, then paused to do a jello shot. Priorities. "I remember you. You greeted me with a bit of flair at our casino party. I don't remember your name, darling, but I remember the hat."

Stewart let out a soft, wryly amused scoff, shifting his positioning a little in a smooth transition into an overt posture of a more relaxed state. "I suppose," he mused, "I should be glad to be remembered by something as noteworthy as an entrance or a hat over something as mundane and pedestrian as a name. You are clearly a woman of exceptional taste.

"It's Stewart," he added, with the slightest bit of a pause for an echo that only he could hear. "And you," this pause was for another shift, pulling himself up loftily with having at least one thing on her, "are Liliana."

They'd had a class together! They even interacted in it once! Of course he'd remember who she was.

"Stewart," Liliana said, lingering over it the way she would a mouthful of wine. "Don't worry, darling, I shan't forget again." She vaguely remembered their interaction during the Shenanigans, but class? Bah. "You have style and flair and that's rare I've found on this plane. Showmanship."

She peered at him. "You should take my next class," she decided.

For as often as he head his name repeatedly back to him in either shrill or disparaging tones, Stewart had to let out a soft breath with the smirk that accompanied how Liliana offered it him just now.

"And I've found," he said, a little of that showmanship working into the tilt of his head, a presenting sweep of his arm, "that those who truly appreciate the performative pomp of charactertic circumstance even rarer still.

"So tell me .What... perchance...will you be teaching, that you find will be relevant to my current academic pursuits....Liliana?"

Hers was a name that just rolled so nicely off a tongue. Wasn't it?

It was! Everything about Liliana rolled nicely off the tongue, though that was a reserved privilege.

"Ethical Dilemmas," she said with a catlike smile. "Above and beyond things like the trolley problem or current political debates. More like the problems set up in "The Cold Equation" and "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," plus a few others I've got up my sleeves."

Though said sleeves were currently as metaphorical as Prompto's usually were. "And I'm looking for a class filled with differing points of view. Nothing is more boring than a class full of people who all agree on the nicest way of thinking."

Unlike her last Summer room party, Liliana didn't stalk into the room demanding alcohol to get herself drunk as fast as possible. Quebec City also wasn't full of people cosplaying her idiot ex and engaging in shipping wars about their love lives. These two things were likely very related.

Instead, she entered on Ignis' arm, in something a little more modern, did a doubletake at the poutine punchbowl (Summer, darling, why?) and helped herself to a single honeysuckle mimosa shot.

Well. To start.

"Hiiiii, Liliana! Ignis!" Summer greeted them both together because there was a good chance the squirrels might oddly not get around to noticing any conversations she might be having with Ignis separately while her attention shifted conveniently to mostly Liliana.

She was starting to feel like she was a little underdressed for her own shindig over here, until she remembered it was a goddamn hotel room party, not a Stark Towerlette soirre or a Creepy Mansion gala. She was fiiine, Liliana was just....Liliana.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it!!"

Liliana was absolutely Liliana. Shamelessly, ruthlessly, unabashedly Liliana. The most Liliana she could possibly be because why would anybody want her to be less? (And, for those who did, why should she care?)

"Thank you for hosting again, Summer," Liliana said with a curving smile, hand falling from Ignis' face where it had somehow managed to find itself in the jaunt down the hall. "Tell me, darling, do you start coming up with..." she glanced at Ignis and that curving smile grew even moreso "...jello shot recipehs before we leave the school? Or do you truly wait until we've arrived to begin planning them?"

Oh god, now she was saying it, too!

At least she hadn't gone and snapped her fingers.

But Summer was just ignoring that for now and tucking it away for later when she was also definitely going to grill Ignis about finally ditching those glasses (just you wait, it was totally going to happen!), and just continued to beam in her excellent host glow.

"A little of both, actually!" she said. "I do some pre-planning to get a few basic ones settled, but then I sort of wait and get a feel for the place and Tuesdays are mostly spent scouting local ingredients and trends to base the heavy hitter stars on. So not only does that make the party a good wayto unwind and have some fun, but also to appreciate the bounty thay wherever we go has to offer!"

She'd been teasing Ignis! That's why the smile! Teasing!

...She really should have snapped, though. That would have been even funnier.

"Impressive," Liliana said. "And it's all you and Stark? You didn't make use of your butler?"

Darling, use the staff! That's why you had a staff!

"Butler?" Summer asked, a confused sort of furrow in her brow.

Why would she even need a butler when she had a Stark?

"And no, actually, it's honestly mostly just me. Stark helps where I need it, but this is kind of like....my big thing? It's like Ignis letting people...

"Okay, bad example, restaurants exists. Maybe like....okay, if you outsourced your necromancy to someone else. Like....do you just want it done? Or do you want it done right?"

The zombies at Caritas came to mind, but out of deference to Summer - not that they were her zombies - she refrained from mentioning that.

"Oh yes, darling, it's part of the suite package," Liliana assured her. "I was thinking you could send them out for the ingredients, but you make a good point, darling."

Which was why they couldn't just send the butler out for sunglasses!

Did Liliana mention something about liking to be observed? Jon was wonderful at observing!

(Less so at being observant, but details.)

He nodded to her and smiled a little; he wasn't drunk enough to be completely relaxed with this many people yet, but he was happy to see her. "Hello, Liliana. You look beautiful."

It just meant that the Eye also got to appreciate how amazing Liliana looked tonight and you were welcome, Fear of Being Known. (It was, without a doubt, the Fear that would affect Liliana the hardest.)

"Why thank you, darling," Liliana said, giving him a soft smile. "And did you enjoy your massage yesterday?"

"I did!" Jon sounded faintly surprised at that fact, if relieved. "It was very relaxing. And my muscles felt better after."

Because it was impossible to be wound into springs when you were being pummeled.

"Whoever would have thought!" Liliana exclaimed in faux-surprise, before giving him a grin. "See, darling? I know what I'm about. When you can't relax your own body, having someone else forcibly do so is quite handy. I think you could do with some massage therapy, honestly."

Just think, Jon! Therapy that didn't involve talking!

"Handy?" Jon wasn't sure if that pun was deliberate, but he was amused.

"I'm...not sure. If it's always like that, or...or if they do different sorts. But maybe I could look into it. Maybe."

He was making no promises!

She would never tell.

"Jon. Darling. It's a service that you pay for. It will be whatever you want it to be. Honestly, if you just go once a week for a hot stone massage, that's still miles better than what you're doing now."

And, Jon. Look Liliana in the eye and tell her you couldn't do with more relaxation in your life.

Relaxation was for people who weren't monsters! People who deserved it!

"I suppose. That is...that is a point."

Please, talk about something other than him! "So, um. I don't suppose you went to the crypt two days in a row."

Darling, Liliana was a monster and she deserved it!

"I didn't," she said. "Yesterday was devoted to staying in the hotel and being pampered--" deservedly "--and today we went on the island culinary tour. Did you happen to visit?"

"Er...no, I went to watch the whales. It seemed peaceful and fun. Even if it was cold."

Yeah, Liliana didn't get out of bed (or, more specifically, go into the cold) for anything smaller than a kraken. You wanted her to come look at you, whales? Get good.

...Besides, the ocean was far too much of a temptation and she was being very good.

"I heard you did go on the Onhwa' Lumia the other night, though!" she said. "That was lovely, no?"

Jon perked up a bit. "Oh, it was! Lovely, and informative - I learned so much, and it was beautiful! I had a, um. Well, a little bit of vertigo a couple times, but I really enjoyed it for the most part."

"Ignis and I went on Monday," Liliana said. "I do quite enjoy hearing the myths and stories of other cultures. It's the best way to learn about them. Some truths are too big to be told except wrapped in lies. We both thought it was an excellent presentation. Vertigo?"

"Oh. Um. One of my...my things," Jon said, shrugging it off. "When I couldn't see the ground well enough. But it's easier to get past than a lot of what I've dealt with. And the show was really good. You enjoyed it as well, I assume."

"Ahhh," Liliana said, understanding enough to know that it was probably best not to prod at that too deeply. "And we did. We went to the restaurant that's attached to the hotel and got to enjoy some First Nations cuisine and then headed out for the show. A lovely pairing, I wonder if the school has that planned as one of their sponsored events."

"They should; it's entertaining and instructional," Jon said. "But then I'd have to find something else to do that night."

Probably just sit in his room and read.

In the fluffy robe. Look, he really liked that robe.

Prompto would not be sticking around for long, but he wanted to at least pop his head into the party for a week tiny bit once Noctra was settled in for the night to see what Summee had cooked up, maybe snipe a few of the good ones to bring back with him to share with Liz, and say hi to a few people, maybe.

He was not disappointed, and he absolutely snickering to himself as he took a few quick shots of that poutine punchbowl for posterity.

"Prompto, darling, what's this I hear about your birthday?" Liliana asked. "I hadn't realized it was this week. I would have gotten you a gift."

But she didn't know and it was possible she was going to do exactly zero shopping this week for unimportant reasons, so he was probably just going to have to deal with have no gifts.

"Oh." Prompto's grin was sheepish and his blush was quick at the reminder of something like, you know, having a birthday, and he chuckled a little, shaking his head. "No, that's alright, Lils, you don't need to get me anything."

And then that humble disregard seemed to fall behind a mask of over-the-top sweetness as he snorted and added, "Your friendship is more than gift enough!"

But, like, also, sure, it was a joke and all, but honestly...? Yeah, it was?

Liliana laughed, warm and rippling. "Why darling, I've only barely begun to befriend you. Just imagine what horrors might be next." She leaned in and whispered, "Ponies."

Are you sure that's the direction you wanted to take this, Liliana? After that happened the last time you had a conversation where ponies were brought up??

Prompto just groaned and rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I take it back," he said. "Friendship is so not enough. Better make it friendship and not getting my daughter a pony for her birthday or Christmas for my birthday instead."

We weren't talking about that conversation. Or thinking about it, thank you very much.

"Mmm, I'm thinking more like a fruit basket," Liliana said. "My friendship and a fruit basket sounds much more like something I'd do."

Adrian, once again in his well-tailored black on black on black, had heard about the room party from Yelena (and hadn't asked how she'd heard about it, because she just seemed to know pretty much everything) and had happily shown up - with a small gift for the hosts. Because that was what you were supposed to do, right? Bring a small gift?

"Wow," he said, looking around. "And I thought Wednesday nights at Caritas were impressive."

The narrative, like, literally mentioned texts!

"Adrian!" Summer had clearly gotten either a head-start or a quick-start on her own bullshit (which was definitely a point for room parties over Caritas!) as she greeted him. "Excellent! You made it! Welcome to the school trip room party! Ooh, and you brought more booze! You can just go ahead and add it to the rest, that looks so fancy!"

Bold of you to think he remembered to check his phone often for texts, Summer. It was currently on the nightstand in his hotel room, charging. Where it had been for the last day and a half.

"Glad to see the school trip room party is just as over the top as everything else school trip related it," he said with an appreciative laugh. "Summer, you look amazing, thank you for hosting, is there anything you need me to get before I settle in and get a jello shot and some poutine?"

You mean to tell her that people would go more than five minutes without checking their phones? Sounds fake.

"Well, yeah," Summer said, grinning as she rolled her eyes and swung her arm toward the rest of the room in a way that she hoped particularly showed off how amazing she (in his words!) Looked. "You can get to partying already! Seriously, like, help yourself,be social, have fun! That's the whole point of all this! And maybe tell me a little about how you're liking the trip so far."

"I was actually planning to lurk a little bit and watch other people party so I knew what to do," Adrian admitted with a laugh. "Other than Yelena's party, this is my first one and her party was more putting together Ikea furniture while drinking."

Which had been great! He'd had a task! He knew how to do tasks! But Summer had cruelly denied him tasks!

Yelena had gotten back to the room late last night and left early this morning to avoid anything awkward.

When she spotted Adrian, she sauntered over with an extra beer and held it out for him to take. "Take off the hat, you look ridiculous with it," she said with an eye roll. And then after taking a sip of her own beer added, "Thank you for the Toblerone."

The last statement actually sounded honest and sincere instead of snarky and deadpan. For once.

"It's a good hat!" Adrian protested, taking the beer from her. And, fortunately, it was close enough to Halloween that people thought it was weird, but it was an understandable kind of weird.

He gave her a smile, one that showed his dimples. "And thank you for the blankets."

"Don't mention it."

With a swift motion, Yelena snatched the hat off his head and flung it across the room. "There," she said, reaching out to fix his collar. "Much better."

Her hand lingered a second too long on the fabric, and the moment she realized it, she jerked it away, glaring at her fingers for a second like they had a mind of their own. She took a quick swig of her beer, eyes darting elsewhere.

"You fit in better this way," she added, added a little too quickly. "No one will think you're a Barry Plodder reject."

Adrian frowned at her - his hat! - but sighed and gave in, ruffling his ever-unruly curls. "I am only going along with this because you know more about parties than I do," he warned.

And then sighed. "At least at your party, I had something to do. What do you do at regular parties?"

There was one curl that was dangling down that so needed to be tucked back but Yelena kept her hand at her side. “Don’t be coy,” Yelena said rolling her eyes. “You did fine at the supper club the other week. This is no different. Or even at the picnic where-“

She paused and frowned. “Whatever. Just be nice and you’ll be fine.”

"I'm not being coy," Adrian said, wondering why Yelena cut herself off there. "Supper Club is for eating. Easy conversation there. The picnic..."

He looked around. There were a lot of pretty people around, which he'd appreciated at the picnic, but it would be rude to Yelena to go trying to pick someone up.

Well, unless he went to their place? Because he certainly couldn't take them back to 603!

"...I mostly talked to my mother and my aunts," he admitted sheepishly. "At least until they all wandered off to do their own things."

His mother's thing had been named 'Bellamy.'

“The supper club is no different than this,” Yelena said pointing at the table with the food and drinks. “You eat and drink. If you see someone you don’t know you introduce yourself. If they are not an asshole you chat them up and get to know them. You talk to people all the time. I’ve seen you do it at Caritas too.”

"It's really no different?" Adrian asked, his shoulders relaxing a little. He ran his hand through his hair, which tucked his curl away for a brief moment before it fell back again. "I always figured that parties...were...different," he added, a little lamely.

Yelena’s eyes narrowed at that stupid hair curl but kept her hand firmly at her side and took a big gulp of her beer to distract herself.

“What did you expect to be different?” Yelena asked. “Did you expect people to be dancing on the ceiling? Or everyone tearing off their clothes and rolling in jello?”

"If don't know!" Adrian said, exasperated. "If people were tearing off their clothes and rolling around in jello, I'd actually be a lot more comfortable!"

Then it would just be a regular Beltane celebration with some additional jello!

"It might shock you to hear this, Yelena, but I'm not really used to stuff like this, and definitely not with strangers. The closest I'd been to a party before yours was sneaking into Chuck E. Cheese to watch some other kid's birthday party on our way to the Boston Anchor Market."

Chuck E Cheese. That was a memory from a lifetime ago. And from a life that wasn’t even real.

She shook her head. Clearly the Jell-O shots and the beer was clouding her mind.

“So what? Orgies are easier for you then just talking?” She deadpanned. “Which by the way I would not use as a conversation starter.”

"No," Adrian said and then sighed. "I honestly never know if I'm just terrible at explaining or if you just like taking everything I say in the worst possible light."

“Well, I do give everyone shit because that’s just how I am,” Yelena said with a shrug. “On the other hand you did say tearing off your clothes and rolling in jello was easier for you and I don’t know how you thought I could pass that up.”

She looked at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Just be yourself. Everyone here is weird. Or weirder.”

And then for whatever stupid reason she gently tucked that lock of hair behind his ear. Letting her fingertips brush his hair a bit she immediately felt herself cringe in reaction.

“Just don’t breathe so loud,” she said, pulling her hand away quickly. “I think I need a refill.”

She looked over at the Jell-O shots. “Of everything.”

His annoyed expression turned softly surprised when she tucked his curl away...and then immediately went back to annoyed as soon as she spoke.

"I don't breathe loudly!" he huffed. Loudly.

Yeah, he also needed a refill.

"You didn't need to bring anything," Stark said, but he grinned at Adrian. "But welcome to a Summer room party. Glad you could come."

"Thanks," he said, giving Stark a grin that was maybe a little nervous around the edges. "Has she been hosting them long?"

"Longer than I've known her," Stark said. "She's good at parties. And good at making people feel welcome at them."

Nervous boys could recognize others.

Adrian was good at talking to people! Or, at least, he'd thought he was? The island was weird. But just standing around making conversation? That seemed much harder.

"She's certainly good at them," he said, looking around, impressed. "Did she do all this herself, or...?"

The island was super weird, yes.

"I helped with some of it," Stark said vaguely. "But she does most of it. I...I've never tried to host a party."

He'd been the guest of honor at a couple of birthday parties now.

"But helping I can do."

"Neither have I," Adrian said, so solidarity! And he'd stopped having birthday parties after thirteen. They had...greatly lost their appeal. "Behind every great party-thrower is a pair of helping hands?"

"I like helping her," Stark said. "And...just being useful."

As a general rule.

"I understand that," Adrian said. "I like being busy. It's good to be working on something with your own hands and to see an appreciable difference when you're done."

Stark nodded eagerly.

"Exactly. You have tangible proof of having done something when you've finished. And... just keeping busy helps me, often. Helps me from getting stuck in my own head."

"Hard to be bothered by existential crises when there's an entire pile of logs that need splitting and a garden that needs weeding," Adrian agreed. "Or in this case..." He glanced around. "Jello that needs...setting?"

"Summer does the jello. I...I bake, sometimes."

Now that it was getting cooler he might have to start baking more.

"I've never split logs or had a garden."

"I am not eating that," Anakin said immediately, pointing at the poutine punchbowl.

"Oh, come on!" Summer protested. "You've got to! It's, like, Canada's national dish or whatever."

You know, you could have just not eaten it and no one would think twice about it, Skywalker. So clearly, the fact that you were broadcasting it only meant you really wanted to eat it, but needed encouragement.

Anakin liked to live his life out loud, okay.

"It looks so slimy," Anakin said, making a face.

"That's how you know it'll go down nice and smoooooth," said Summer, bright and cheerful and oh-so-enticingly.

Dangerous words, Anakin.

"You should try the jello instead!" Stark was pushing a poutine shot at Anakin almost immediately.

"I will not being doing that either," Anakin decided just as quickly.

"You should try it," Stark urged. "Summer made it special."

For special torments of special people!

"There are a lot of different meanings in the word special," Anakin pointed out suspiciously.

"There are," Stark agreed readily. "And this is very special!"

And maybe if Stark pawned a few of the shots off onto other people he could escape tasting one himself later.

"You might even enjoy it."

"That seems doubtful," Anakin said.

"Only because you don't like enjoying things," Stark said.

That was not the reason. He knew it.

"It's true," Anakin agreed. "I hate fun. Everyone knows this."

"I've known it for a very long time," Stark said, nodding. "So you should try this. To show people you don't hate enjoying everything!"

Instead Anakin could just straight up hate the poutine jello.

"I'm pretty comfortable hating this particular shot," Anakin said.

"So you think it's fun?" Stark asked, grinning.

"I think it's a cry for help," Anakin said, smiling back.

"You could provide that help," Stark pointed out. "By eating this."

He shoved the shot towards Anakin again.

Anakin wrinkled up his nose. "Only after you have one."

"I did have one," Stark said.

This was somewhat true. He had held onto one briefly earlier!

"One that I see you eating. Drinking. Consuming."

"Don't you trust me?" Stark asked, looking exceptionally untrustworthy as he did so.

Anakin laughed at him. "Not in the slightest."

"I don't trust you either," Stark said, grinning.

This was not true. Stark trusted Anakin more than he trusted most people.

"And that's why I'm not eating Summer's strange jello shots," Anakin concluded, "and I'm not sorry about it."

"They are Summer's jello," Stark pointed out. "Not mine."

But everyone knew how trustworthy Summer was when it came to food and beverages.

"I wouldn't eat your jello either," Anakin said.

"When have I ever made jello that you could have eaten?" Stark asked. "And I wouldn't eat yours either."

"I make amazing jello," Anakin said. "I buy it in the refrigerated section."

The Gilmore-Skywalker household wasn't much for cooking.

"That isn't making anything that is buying something," Stark told him.

"And thus safe and edible," Anakin said.

"I've never been poisoned by Summer's jello yet," Stark said. "It's all edible and safe!"

For a given value of safe, anyway.

"So far," Anakin said. "There's always room for that to change."

Jon was here, because while "I will be very disappointed if you play a hermit on vacation" might not have actually been said in Summer's text, he was fairly sure it was implied.

So. Here he was. At a party. But hey, he knew most of the people! This shouldn't go too badly.

Well, it wasn't wrong, but, geez, Jon, way to just craft your own Summer's Party Text fanfic there!

"Jon!" Wild interpretations of her text aside, she was clearly glad to see him. "You made it! Hi! Come on in! Help yourself to stuff! Go be social or whatever! Are you having a good time in Quebec so far?"

Look, Summer could have just said, "Party in my suite!" and Jon would still assume he was being judged if he didn't show up. He was Jon.

"Summer, hello." He smiled at her only a little awkwardly. "I, um. I am having a good time. I hope you are, too."

Think of the poutine horrors you might have missed out on, Jon!

"Welcome," Stark said. "Hello, Jon."

Which Fear was that - Flesh? Corruption?

"Hello, Stark." Jon nodded to him. "I hope you've been well."

Perhaps it was both? Or even more than that!

"I have," Stark said. "A good trip, so far. And life...life has been good, recently. You've been well?"

"Oh, yes." Jon nodded. "Well, I...class is...um. Challenging. But I'm mostly doing well."

"Class?" Stark frowned then it clicked. "Oh. Yes. I could see that being a challenge. It would be...awkward."

Good luck with that, Jon.

"Yes, well...yes."

Less because of the sex, actually, and more because of the co-teacher.

"I hope you're having fun with yours."

"I am," Stark said. "We've gone to interesting places and eaten some very good foods."

Jon nodded. "That sounds interesting. Um. I wonder if you have a favorite place yet."

"I liked Hersheypark," Stark said. "And the chocolate spa at the hotel there."

"Is that..." Jon gaped for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to phrase it in a non-question. "That sounds like they cover you in chocolate."

"There was chocolate in some of the things they used," Stark said. "Yes. But it wasn't...they don't turn you into a candy or anything like that."

"Oh, good. That's...that's very good." Look, sometimes you had to wonder.

Frontenac Suite; Wednesday Evening [10/23].

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