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_Hyacinthus

^{❛ Mentions: Lorenzo & River (ind.) , Forestte, Dahlia, Theodore, Ivy & Vivienne ❜}

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The drive to the Anchorage Manor was rather unceremonious; the driver didn't try and entertain him nor make conversation with him, except for that strange interaction . He hummed to himself, thinking about what this all meant. And it was soon after they arrived at their destination and his eyes landed on the place that's most forbidden to speak of in his home . Ever since the feud between their families had broken their bonds , it was odd enough that he had been invited . And his parents took it in stride , their thoughts were unified - he must attend, he must uphold the Merovingian name . Bonds shattered could easily be reforged and this seemed to be an olive branch from the family. He couldn't lie and say he wasn't curious as to the whole smoke and mirrors behind this grand event, but he decided to put on his finest wears and make sure to find out everything he could . It's not everyday your family enemy invites one to such a soirée.

As he entered the ballroom, he straightened his posture and let his eyes wonder the room. He took in the fine music that lingered in the air ; there was something eerie about it, the music in a way beautiful, sure, but also haunting. Maybe it was the way the orchestra was so focused on playing they didn't make eye contact with the guests - however, he couldn't blame them, whenever he played the violin he was almost always lost in his music . Letting himself become one with the instrument . Yet, they seemed moreso restrained and uniform , as if they were playing for an audience and not to play for a performance. Maybe that's what it ways, the music was pleasing to the ears but it didn't have a soul to it , and that was more concerning.

The lighting in the room was bright and romantic ; their chandelier enhancing the beauty of it all - the prismatic display adding a more fanciful ambiance to the room . The chatter of guests reached his ears , all curious about this impromptu gathering . He could see women with their sparkling jewels and expensive furs draped across their arms and men's with impossibly expensive suits - and yet they couldn't seemed to afford the shoes . It was interesting, watching how some tried to fake their wealth and influence - himself ? He was born from a family line of generational wealth , and while he wasn't seen by the public eye a lot - everyone in Mayfield knows of his families prestigious name . He could see some women with their fake diamonds and last season fashion try and eye him up , as if they could compete with him . Amateurs , his mind scoffed .

The man himself was wearing a cream suit piece ; made of the finest Italian silk , his suit jacket incorporating a fine pearl-cream mink fur around the neck . It wasn't too much fur as it was summer, but still tasteful enough to wear on a chilly sunny day or a cold manor inside . And it was definitely a sign of his status to be able to wear such a delicate piece in such weather, afterall it had to be stored properly to survive such heat until it could be worn in winter . And he acknowledged when a butler came, his cadence calm and collected.

"Shall I store your jacket for you sir?" The man asked in a polite and professional tone , his posture impeccable and the man seemed sure of himself .

Hyacinthus simply nodded and gave the man his coat, "Please take care that it's stored properly, I would hate for the fur to be ruined." He said , his voice polite with a slight airy tone to it and he gave a polite smile as the man nodded and held his coat with a delicate hand and soon disappeared into the crowd.

He was left in his shirt which also was made of pure Italian silk . And a darker beige vest for a break of color from the light cream, the buttons being a slight bronze with polished chains meticulously arranged . His pants had a slight flare at the legs, which made his light brown heeled Oxfords more noticeable . His nails were manicured , their length was rather noticeable but they were neatly shaped and had a clear coating on them . He wore a couple diamond rings on his fingers , and some fine cut diamond earrings also graced his ears, their reflective nature shimmering under the light . His hair was elegantly pulled to his right side ; yet the curls all didn't fit and neatly framed his face . As for makeup, he just used a slight moisturizer and a crisp, sharp liquid cat-eye to add a more imposing look and it brought out his eyes more .

When the man of the house finally showed himself, he had to raise a manicured brow at the strange behavior, as he elegantly grabbed the flute of champagne provided for the toast . He wasn't expecting to spend the night and he could hear a murmur of confusion ripple over the crowd as well . So he wasn't the only one . And he indulged in the toast given and raised his glass , but he didn't drink to it . Something about this was disconcerting and he swirled his glass while thinking . He noted as some guests began mingling with one another ; forming connections at a function like this was a good move - and most were avoiding the food, though he could see some eying it .

He hummed to himself, wondering if it would do good to just wait for someone to introduce themselves or just linger in the background and watch the people interact. And that's when his eyes caught on a smaller figure ; Lorenzo , and he had to blink , he didn't expect to see the man so soon. Especially since their little . . . dalliance the previous night in his dingy motel room. Why had he gone drinking again ? His memory was still fuzzy , but the memory of him sharing a rather passionate night with man didn't escape him. And he had to force himself to look away, he was already embarrassed he had stooped so low as to get drunk in a bar but sleeping with an ex ? Especially one that he vowed to never grace with his presence again was even more stupid . And now the man was here of all places ! It's like the universe was laughing at his misfortune .

Though he tried to have a mask of neutrality. He could feel himself glaring at the man, eyes narrowed in suspicion, because what was the chances that they would end up at the same event - especially after running into each other in a bar after years of no contact ? But his festering anger against the man was returning and he didn't want to even remotely think of the feeling in his gut as another man approached him . One with messy blonde hair strode up , and that's when he lost interest in Lorenzo.

He noticed a small group gathering together , and that's when he saw Forestte - another familiar face within the crowd . They had met at a previous high society gathering, her family was newer when it came to terms of money . She seemed like an honest young woman , and so he found that having her as a friend wasn't so bad . It was hard to find genuine folk like her in places like this where wearing a mask was almost a must in some instances . But it seemed that she was finding her place within it, through her own merit and he couldn't help but respect and admire that about her . And he looked at the little group that was gathering, and he didn't really recognize any of them . Though the younger man looked familiar, he had a strange memory of going to a bakery on a cold winter morning and their son being there - was that him ? This indeed was a small world to live in. But it was interesting that a lot of the folk seemed to be natives . He really couldn't make out the faces of the others in the group but he was pretty sure he knew them in some degree.

And that's when he noticed a familiar figure , they were dressed in a rather sunning gothic tailcoat . And it couldn't be anyone but River , and Hyacinthus was glad to see another friend in the crowd - though they looked pretty bored of the whole thing. The two of them were kindred souls when it came to music and sometimes he got the musician to perform at fancier events and he even went out drinking with them a couple times . He wondered what they were doing here , as they didn't seem to be here on business (or would they and he just didn't know ? ) it was most curious . However, it was good to see them .

His curiosity got the best of him , and so he decided to approach the group. He walked over with a graceful gait, holding the champagne flute in his hand elegantly . His gaze washed over the group , catching the last bits of conversation. He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt the flow of the conversation - it seemed everyone was getting acquainted with one another , and was introducing themselves . A young woman finished introducing herself and seemed to take a step back to allow someone else to introduce themselves .

"Good Evening," he began, his voice elegant and poised, " I am Hyacinthus Merovingian, and it's a pleasure to meet you all. " he said with a polite smile gracing his features as he raised his glass slightly and took a sip of his drink.

" I am familiar with Ms. Morrow as she and her family have began doing business with mine. And I would like to wish your new ventures well." He said addressing Forestte with a more genuine smile.

Turning his gaze to the others he tried to place their faces, but he couldn't . And he decided that silence would be the strongest option next as to gather information about the group.

Theodore Boulanger || Male || Mentions: Ivy, Hyacinthus

Although Teddy was still unsure about if and how he knew everyone, he was trying to piece it together.

He was near the front of the group since Ivy had wandered off, stranding him there. Luckily her disappearance averted attention enough for him to slip away to the edge of the gathering. It’s not that he was nervous in front of everyone- he told himself- just that he was reluctant to mess up this early in the game.

Adjusting his ill-fitting tie, he began to scan the room. Teddy recalled his father once lecturing him about how “a man’s tie must be properly fastened and adjusted so the length wasn’t unproportional to the frame.” And “the pattern and color must be properly coordinated to the event-” or something like that. Otherwise, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.

He couldn’t fully grasp the memories for the details on those rules. After a while, he just started nodding because it looked like dear old dad was nearly done talking. Maybe he would have remembered better had he owned a tie. Heck, this one didn’t even match his pants- a fact he was becoming all the more aware of.

His cheeks felt flushed while looking around the event center. The manor was way out of his tax bracket. These kinds of people owned a suit for every day of the week- and exchanged wardrobe by the season. They would be the ones to actually receive an invitation to Gatsby’s parties rather than wandering in. Same with some of the guests…

Many of them were dressed up for the event, albeit some nicer than others. Teddy felt comforted seeing those who also felt out of place. They would twist bracelets or rub pendants as if trying to feel closer to home. Like holding something familiar could magically transport them back to their living rooms.

Some other guests relished in the moment, basking in the light of the chandeliers like it was just another night. They were the kind to always keep a wine glass in hand- but leave the other gloved fingers free to exchange gossip along the wall with daintily painted faces.

He caught sight of a man draped in exquisite furs, no doubt expensive. He held a somber expression but had striking eyes- the kind that made an observer uneasy. He moved with intention, stature held as if he had practiced for moments like these. The man reminded Teddy of rich Italian grandpas- just, uh, with less wrinkles.

He glanced away, trying to draw together the memory fragments. The thing about living in the moment is that the past becomes cloudy. He always struggled with that concept, being more of a future man himself.

Regardless, he was sure he knew the person. Maybe an older schoolmate? He did seem mature enough… Or a neighbor? A regular at the shop?

Something unlocked in his brain. That definitely wasn’t it but it was in the right direction. Maybe he could ask later. But… wouldn’t it be embarrassing to not have the name? Or worse- to mess it up entirely!

Harold? No, that’s not it. Too “informal” sounding.

The man reminded him of February Daphne- or Mezereon as in the formal name. In the spring it had brilliant white or pink flowers with a delicate fragrance. In the summer, however, the blooms turned into clusters of red fruit that are highly toxic. Even the sap can cause blistering.

He had always drawn this association due to Ha… Hibiscus? No. “His” sharp intelligence and slightly reclusive nature. However, he could put on a pretty appearance when needed.

Okay the name has to be floral. Stupid brain. Fine, it’ll come around eventually.

The table of delicacies was by now calling out to him. “Theodore… Theodore come eat. We have raspberry fillings.” Their gentle calls were like angels singing.

(If you’ve ever seen those cartoons of the people floating through the air, following the scent trail- that’s what I imagine happening here. For the sake of being realistic, he probably just skedaddled over there with a dumb grin plastered on his face.)

Ah yes.

Food.

His life’s one true calling is to experience good food. Lunch and dinner were his favorite times of the day. Just thinking about it had him dreaming about his next recipe. Some chicken broth, some egg noodles. Yes, make it a soup. No more of those dried rations they ate out in the field. Thinking about it could make him shudder involuntarily. More reason to work on the foraging booklet.

But this table wasn’t all he wished it could be. At least it was better than coming home to see a crockpot on the countertop. Even a baker’s kid had lines that weren’t to be crossed.

Like, the sandwiches were… sandwiches. And the eclairs held form well.

He was just about to enter into a stare-off with the punch bowl when he remembered that’s where the girl from earlier (Ivy, was it?) was also at the table. Well of course, that’s where she said she was going.

His head shot up as he looked across the table, his brain instantly coming up with a thousand greetings that slammed together in a four-way traffic incident.

Instead, he blinked and what came out was, “These look… nice?” The words were forced out as if he still held reservations about the food. Shaking his head, he tried again, “I’m sure they’re not that bad. I mean! The cheese looks really good.” Yes, the cheese. One could make good sandwiches with cheese.

Teddy slowly let out a sigh. “This event is rather unexpected. Like, I’m all for exploring fancy old buildings but I’m still not sure what we all have to do with each other.”

While sifting through all the table had to offer, he realized he should probably do something to be polite. This consisted of him briefly panicking, grabbing the first thing he saw, and asking, “Need a napkin?”

The heels of his dress shoes clicked melodies into the concrete pathway as he stepped out of the car. His eyes trailed up the large manor, brows pressed together as he took in the sight. It brought back memories, glimpses of his past with Hyacinthus, sneaking around a house that mirrored the one before him in size. He shook the memories away quickly... he couldn't be thinking about that, especially not after last night. Thankfully, a frail man began to speak, stealing his mind away. Lorenzo inspected the man, wondering about his weakened state, as well as the intentions behind this gathering.

Before he could gather his thoughts on the situation, he was ushered inside, slightly agitated at the rushed arrival. His eyes swept over the hall as they were brought inside, too busy checking his surroundings to notice who his company was. The blocked hallways caught his attention, his mouth flattening in thought as he wondered about the reasoning. The ballroom itself didn't hold his mind long, but the people, the people did. He noticed the musicians, the way they hid their eyes, as if afraid the guests would see something behind them.

He fiddles with his watch as the man began to speak again. Was it anxiety? Or perhaps just stimulation as he sorted his ideas? Enzos mind seemed to wander, as he drowned out the man's voice, only brought back by the slamming of the door.

An all too familiar voice rang through his ears, quiet, but unforgettable. Ivy. His eyes searched for hers, but they darted away. Pressing his brows together, his smile tightened with slight annoyance.

Lorenzo fixed his expression immediately as he was approached by a new face. Replacing his agitated look came the charismatic man he presented himself as. Reaching out a firm hand, he offered a handshake and a smile to the blonde haired man. "I believe you may be right--- you can call me Enzo" he said, mind elsewhere.

The sounds of voices quieted in his head as his eyes found him. Hyacinthus. Of course he would be at an event like this. Why wouldn't he be? He tugged at his tie slightly, remembering then where his suit was from. It was as if the world wanted to punish him with this. Karma maybe. Had he noticed him yet? Enzo wondered whether seeing him with another man would irk him, and the idea made him a little more excited about this interaction. He turned his attention back to the blonde, smiling as he kept himself from looking back over.

Vivienne Marlowe l Female l M: Ivy, Teddy, Hyacinthus, River, Lorenzo

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Vivienne watched as others began to introduce themselves, analyzing their features, personalities and whatnot, as it was all to normal for her. And she definitely needed to break that habit. She pondered introducing herself, and knew if she needed to do it, to do it soon, but she began going over the guests in her head, sorting her thoughts. Ivy seemed like a good woman to hang around, she was confident, and she was the first to break the ice. She knew she wanted to stick with her, so she better introduce herself to her first. She then glanced over after Teddy, who had now made his way over to the food table with Ivy, and seemed to be introducing himself, yet his body language suggested he was struggling a bit. She couldn't blame the man, Vivienne was one to hate introductions. But that was when her gaze landed on him. Hyacinthus Merovingian. His name suggested stuck up, but she wouldn't judge people that early, and then she heard him speak. Just the way he talked proved her right. It wasn't that she hated rich people, but she hated the rich snobs. Those who walk around with their noses up and laugh at the beggars on the street. She knew what it was like to be poor, and just to see those kind of people... it almost made her gag. I mean, his outfit was probably worth more than her house back home. But, she did have to say, his eyes were striking, and, while he may seem like a snob like the rest of the rich people, at least he was good looking.

While it didn't take a bit to pull her eyes away from Hyacinthus, she glanced over at another person who seemed to be breaking the silence. While they hadn't made their way over to her yet, but she heard their name in passerby, River. Right now River was talking to another man, but Vivienne couldn't hear his name. But they seemed well enough. She glanced again towards the food table, where Ivy and Teddy had split from the group. If she wanted to introduce herself quietly, this was the time to do it. With a last glance towards the larger group, and her eyes landing on Hyacinthus again, (had she mentioned his eyes?) she made her way over to where Ivy and Teddy were situated. Before she made it over to them, her eyes landed on the eclairs, her grandmother had always made the vest chocolate eclairs, and ever since, she was a sucker for anything and everything chocolate. Especially eclairs. After grabbing two and putting them on her plate, she managed to go over to Ivy and Teddy. Once they sensed her presence, she introduced herself: "Good Evening, my name is Vivienne Marlowe" He voice came out kind of quiet, but it would have to do. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't think we've met." She would offer a hand, but those delicious looking chocolate eclairs had priority. Maybe this gathering wouldn't be so bad after all.