[OPEN] We shall have a magnificent garden party, and Athos is not invited.

[airshipswank]

Who: [OPEN] Everyone!
Where: The Gardens
When: Monday, October 15th
Rating: PG? PG-13? Let's assume that most heads and clothes stay on.
Summary: This year's days of warm and sunny afternoons are numbered, Wonderland's fair weather all but gone. This may be one of the last opportunities to celebrate outdoors, socialise under the blue sky, enjoy the fresh air and get people's relationships hopelessly confused while we're at it.

The Story:

A certain English duke is bored and has finally expanded his knowledge of future festivities sufficiently to do something interesting about it.

Come Monday morning each and every resident (except for the one living in 7.13) will find that a small invitation has been slipped under their door. The elaborate writing on it was made by hand, the borders of the paper lovingly adorned with a small drawing of vines. Its message is simple:

THE GARDENS
TWO O'CLOCK

[ OOC: It's a surprise garden party on the last day of the Do you think people ever get the wrong idea about us? event, brought to you by The Bored Duke Of Buckingham (TM). You didn't miss any pre-party plotting (IC or OOC) and everyone is invited. Enjoy! ]

Comments

[thestormcomes]

[Athos turns around completely, lofting an eyebrow. Without a doubt, Buckingham is treading on precarious ground right now.]

Aramis can take care of himself, [Athos replies carefully.] Why, are you planning to kill us off now that we outnumber you?

[airshipswank]

[ Ahahahaha, good one. Good one, mon ami. This laughter is well-deserved. No, Buckingham is not who or what Aramis and Athos ought to be worried about. ]

Why would you possibly think that?

[thestormcomes]

[Athos gives him a flat look. One that says, What do you think?]

[airshipswank]

I've made no such attempt on your life, have I?

[ Well. ]

Not voluntarily.

[ Oh, that nasty, nasty event. He is ever so sorry about that. ]

[thestormcomes]

[Athos offers him a vague smile in return, remembering the growl of the hounds on his heels. The tear of their teeth in his flesh. And then nothing.]

How is your chest feeling?

[The smile widens.]

[airshipswank]

[ There is no sense in playing down Buckingham's anger about the incident, the rage he felt when he was forced to watch Athos walk away in triumph. No sense in pretending it did not sting his chest and pride for days.

...No sense in thinking Buckingham would be caught holding on to the sentiment much longer than that. The duke merely tuts. ]

Come now, you have more wit than that.

[ He pauses, slowly puts his hand to where Athos struck him and takes a deep breath in, disregarding any discomfort that remains. ]

Then again, perhaps not...

[thestormcomes]

To be fair, civil discourse is not my preferred method of coming to terms with others.

[Athos usually lets his sword do the talking, and it is loquacious to a fault.]

[airshipswank]

I noticed.

[ Perhaps it is not quite a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but there are many things that could be said about Buckingham's style of coming to terms with others; many things which are far too far from flattering to be listed in his own narration.

Instead we will focus on the lesson he doesn't seem to have learned just yet, otherwise he might not risk stepping closer to Athos, especially not while they are on that subject. ]

And yet you... are here. Why is that?

[thestormcomes]

Miss the chance to see you in your element? I think not.

[It is, admittedly, unusual to see Athos at any sort of party (unless dictated by the king), but he has his reasons. Convoluted though they may be.]

What sort of a man would I be if I did not take the opportunity to observe the habits of an enemy?

[Of course he answers Buckingham's question with another question. Did you expect anything less?]

[airshipswank]

[ For the most fleeting of moments Buckingham looks serious, almost concerned. Concerned that Athos' answer may be the truth, that perhaps he ought to be on his guard now that there are two musketeers in Wonderland. He was hardly worried before, seeing no angle from which a more elaborate plot against him would be worth the effort, any effort, but what if he was wrong? Revenge? Entertainment? Is it possible?

He forces the thought from his mind as quickly as it came and dons a smile instead. ]

For a spy you give yourself away rather quickly. Have you at least observed anything of interest so far?

[thestormcomes]

If I did, it would hardly behoove me to tell you, now wouldn't it?

[Athos' vague smile persists, sensing the discomfort in Buckingham's tone. For all the clever falsework maintaining the duke's composed façade, his foundations are rough and unwieldy, hewn stones carelessly slapped together with mortar.

It's a nice change of pace, putting Buckingham on the spot.]

[airshipswank]

[ Discomfort? Putting Buckingham on the spot? If Athos truly thought so, then he would have severely underestimated just how fleeting the duke's concerns and how thorough his dismissal of the same could be.

...Not that Buckingham would actually be able to discern such assumptions from the musketeer's response. ]

You attend uninvited and proclaim yourself a spy, I should consider that a forfeit on anything that behooves.

[thestormcomes]

[Athos would be loathe to come up with the excuse that he was simply bored, especially since one of his closest friends is now here, but- Ah, well, that might serve as a sufficient answer, anyway.]

Infiltrating the party via diving suit seemed like such a faux pas.

[He offers a light smile.]

The truth is, I simply wanted to celebrate a friend's arrival.

[airshipswank]

[ Athos' reason for being here. It's the only nagging uncertainty Buckingham would have to admit to, were he the truthful sort. To the duke a deliberate lack of invitation screams 'challenge', but he hardly expected Athos to speak the same language. ]

Shall we... drink to your friend's arrival then?

[thestormcomes]

[The language barrier is not the only thing of difficulty between them, unless certain happenings having to do with Venice have escaped the duke's mind.]

I suppose so, if you haven't tampered with the cups or the wine.

[airshipswank]

[ Buckingham cherishes the memory and wouldn't dream of forgetting, though he can't say that it was on his mind at this particular moment; after all party crashing would seem like a somewhat... tame form of retaliation. ]

On such short notice? No, I'm afraid not.

[ He turns to one of the buffet tables where he puts his old cup down and pours two others instead. ]

Though I have put aside a particularly fine Bordeaux.

[ Of which he now extends one towards Athos ever so graciously. ]

[thestormcomes]

Generous of you.

[Athos accepts the cup carefully, confident that Buckingham's could not have possibly prepared any hidden toxins, not knowing that the musketeer would choose to show up in the first place.]

At least you have good taste in wine.

[Any man who claims that French wine is not the pinnacle is indeed a fool.]

[airshipswank]

[ Exactly. After all, a man such as Buckingham would hardly have any toxins hidden in his rings for emergency and/or surprise poisonings. ♥ ]

Generosity loses its value when... there is no limit to what one can give.

[ He smiles at the formality all the same and raises his glass. ]

À votre santé!

[thestormcomes]

[Oh, Buckingham's narration. You sure know how to reassure.]

Such a hard life you lead, owning the wealth of a nation.

[Athos dons a slightly sarcastic smile, raising his eyebrows and his cup.]

Et à la vôtre.

[May it diminish with your reputation.]

[airshipswank]

[ It goes without saying that both this narration and Buckingham only have everyone's best interest at heart at all times and that neither of them would need to hold back a devious grin as the men's glasses clink together. ]

England did not fund this particular gathering.

[ Buckingham takes a slow drink. ]

I daresay here even you would have the means for a lavish feast, if... you so desired.

[ And one more small sip before he lowers the cup and lets the wine in it swirl. ]

Perhaps a memory of the old days, Monsieur le comte?

[thestormcomes]

[Mid-sip, Athos tries not to choke on his wine as Buckingham reminds him that he knows more than he really ought to.

The narration believes that this allusion to counthood is payback for an unwitting use of puns.]

People call it "the past" for a reason,

[he replies simply, recalling the years spent learning the art of the nobility, the time wasted lording over those he had no right to call peasants. The aristocracy is not a gift from God. It's a clever way of saying "I got here before you did, so piss off."]

[airshipswank]

[ The narration will not dignify such baseless accusations with a comment. And Buckingham will smile and look into the depths of his cup. ]

People dwell on the past, whether... they ought to or not.

[ Otherwise Monsieur le comte's lips might be attached to a new woman rather than bottle after bottle, non? Not that Buckingham would have it any other way... ]

[thestormcomes]

[Monsieur le comte's lips are attached to one mistress and one mistress alone, and it happens to be Lady Dionysus, no matter what sort of rumors you may hear through the grapevine about him boning a grey-skinned person with horns.]

If I didn't know better, I'd say that was directed at me.

[Smooth.]

[airshipswank]

[ Oh, you just wait until Buckingham gets his hands on those rumours. ]

It would... hardly matter, either way.

[ Though for now he merely shrugs mildly. ]

Stay your course or change everything. It will all be gone once we leave this place.

[ Not a thought that greatly concerns Buckingham. Life is meant to be lived in the moment and the moments that have already passed need not be meticulously preserved. ]

[thestormcomes]

[Good luck with that rumor-hunting thing. Please, do let Athos know how it goes.]

A benefit, I suppose, for those of us with a conscience.

[Because everyone is aware of the fact that Buckingham was born of brimstone.]