[OPEN] We'll Take A Cup of Kindness Yet

[nascensibility]

Who: EVERYONE, but especially you!
Where: Wonderland Ballroom
When: New Year's Eve
Rating: PG - PG13 (will change if applicable)
Summary: New Year's Eve Party
The Story:

[The morning of December 31st, all residents will receive a handwritten invitation slipped under their door.]



You are cordially invited to attend a party
celebrating the New Year

Wonderland Ballroom
8 pm - 1 am

Semi-Formal Attire
Buffet & Bar
No RSVP Required

All Ages Welcome

For inquiries, contact E. O'Connell

[Punctuality in planning is important: the ballroom itself will only be ready for guests at exactly 8 o'clock, bedecked in glittering golds and the red-green of Christmas' vestiges, still clinging to the old year. Dining tables surround a central dance floor, bars and buffets dot the edges of the room and both holly and mistletoe are expressed liberally through the interior.

Mingle, dance, eat and be merry! The New Year will come in at midnight - the band will play and the drinks will flow for long after.]

Comments

[persevere]

[He pulls her into the steps and she knows them well enough to follow his lead, resting her hand against his shoulder and his skims her waist to settle against her lower back. Her eyes focus downward somewhere random, like the lapel of his jacket, before he speaks and she looks up to meet his eyes, which have apparently been waiting for her to do that very thing.]

It felt...nostalgic. [She gives him a half-hearted smile, but only because she's trying to hold back any humor from what she says next.] I guess it wouldn't be to someone who basically comes from the middle ages.

[poppycock]

[ her deadpan humor certainly lands; klaus lips curl and he dimples, glancing away at the swaying, spinning couples. ] Well before then, I assure you. [ is he bragging about his age? yy he is

but the amusement in his eyes fades quite naturally, though a touch of his smile lingers. in its place is a moment of hesitation before he goes on, somewhat sobered and fully sincere. ] I like the idea of having family you choose, who will stick by you through thick and thin.

[persevere]

So you're not ancient, you're practically primordial. My mistake.

[She smiles at least, and it even manages to touch her eyes.

The smile fades quickly enough though as his expression sobers her, his words sticking true to her.]

I think I know a little bit about that myself. [She's a little confused, though. She was under the impression that he was supposed to only, well, care about himself for the most part. Who's he even talking about?] Have you found that here?

[poppycock]

[ he grins, the dropping and lifting of his eyes both amused and admiring; he's been properly put in his place.

he does know, that she knows: because he knows about her father and how he left the only life she knew. he knows more than she does, how much her father did and would wound her. he knows her mother leaves her alone in this world and even though it will not be by her own volition, it will mean she is alone.

klaus knows, also, that his hands are stained with the blood of that other family, the family she has chosen and will choose. he thinks perhaps it best he not inquire, not compare. it's not his place. instead his lips part some at her question; he has his own demons to speak of, after all. demons he has not mentioned to anyone else here.

to her, however, he finds the words come. ] I thought I had, at home. [ they turn into the music. his fingers adjust over her hand. his eyes avoid hers. ] I had a son, someone I claimed as my own, but as it turns out I've failed him even more than I've failed... [ so many. his own blood. he trails off and swallows thickly, summoning a smile. ] I suppose that's maudlin. Though I do like to find something here. [ his gaze focuses on her. ] That friend, perhaps. [ yeah you ]

[persevere]

You mean you adopted someone?

[If there's one thing she has a hard time imagining, it's Klaus because a dad, if only partially because he's, well, as dead as she is, right? So she'll just make a quick leap of logic:]

Or you were just their father figure of sorts?

[She's tempted to make a dig at him, but he's actually being pretty up front with her, so that feels like it would be too harsh, even for her, considering the subject matter.]

Right. Of course. I should have known.

[She sees what you're doing, Klaus.]

Well, while you're working on that, maybe you can get a message to your mirror to leave me alone.

[poppycock]

[ her leap of logic does its service; in effect he did and was those things. in many ways he has always been just that: a creator, a sire, the double-sided coin of a benevolent king and a malevolent tyrant both. (he was all that and more to marcel.) rueful and somewhat reticent for a moment in the particulars (it does so sting), he explains. ] He was my ward. [ still avoiding her eyes, he continues. ] My son, yes.

[ but any further talk of marcel (and any charmed reaction to her chastisement) is put to a stop at the mention of his mirror. so do his steps in their dance falter and then halt; the music may as well have stopped for him too, for how little he senses past the terror of his shock.

(he knew, always. he has known, in the back of his mind, that this day would come. that no perverse version of himself would stay dormant nor quiet for long. and of course. of course it's caroline, someone he cares about so far removed from those he knows and loves.)

he stares in muted fear but does not let her go; on the contrary, his hands tighten involuntarily around her as if in keeping her close he could protect her. ] What did he say to you?

[persevere]

Maybe you'll have to tell me about him someday.

[When they have more time to talk than just being out here for a single dance on the dance floor. Which insinuates that she's actually up for having a conversation that lasts longer than a couple minutes. Pro...gress?

She expected him to be surprised, but the almost protective way his grip tightens on her startles her, her eyes going a little wide.]

Relax. It's not like he can just poof into this ballroom or something. [She sighs, thinking back as accurately as she can manage.] Apparently, he's stalking me, so that's nice. Told me I'm singular, that I look good in red. He's seen us talking together, knows you- [A beat.] -care about me.

[Awkward.]

He wanted to know how I felt, too.

[poppycock]

[ he knows he has startled her, but he makes no effort to do as she asks: there is no reason to relax. no, the strength and closeness in which he holds her is not abated; her reassurances his alter ego cannot waltz into this domain does not soothe him past the immediate.

with every word she speaks, the fear in him swirls and builds, churning him inside. his mirror could be planning on any number of sly and gruesome things. (this is what he would want, is what klaus thinks. he would want to make him feel afraid. helpless. out of control.) klaus' eyes stay rounded and they search hers as she speaks, his breath somewhat shallow and uneven.

this is no time for awkwardnesses, for thinking about her answer. he knows her answer, and it most definitely means little and everything to the phantom who asked: all it matters is he, klaus cares, and that can be used against him. it could be used against her. he leans in, speaks in a fierce and unflinching whisper. ] Listen to me, whatever motives you might assign to me, his are most assuredly worse. Don't talk to him. [ it's a plea and a desperate one; his gaze searches her for her answer. ]

[persevere]

[Her lips press together as she shifts from startled to bordering on annoyed, because she's not naive and she's not a little girl and she can take care of herself.]

I know that.

[She didn't think for a second that his mirror wasn't trying to manipulate her, trying to weasel something out of her by saying the creepiest nonsense he could think of. Or maybe he was just crazy.

Either way, she's heard enough about the other side of the mirror to be wary.]

I didn't tell him anything. I wouldn't tell him anything. That doesn't mean it's going to stop him from trying to get on my nerves.

[poppycock]

[ if he were collected; if his sight were clear, he would give her worth that is due. he hardly believes her incapable of protecting herself. she's as much confident in who and what she is as he: of course she's the furthest thing from shortsighted and despite the relative newness of their acquaintance, she has always known him.

but he is not collected. his sight is not fully clear. her words do not reflect the panic and paranoia he feels and perhaps none would. (she may know him, but she has not seen what he is capable of. not yet.) his fingers around hers curl further, tighter; they slip between their hearts. it's not a conscious gesture: it's not a gesture at all. it's fueled by the vigor and alarm in his voice. ] How do you think a man like me would seek to get under your skin? He wants you vulnerable. If he's dangerous, he wants to hurt you. [ his words waver; his lashes flutter because he is vulnerable in this. that is what frightens him most of all: that he would and he could not stop it. ]

[persevere]

I'm not vulnerable, Klaus. I make it a point not to be.

[She's been the victim all too often (will be so in the future so many more times), but she'll be damned if anyone sees her that way. She's stronger now and so help anyone who tries to make her feel weak or powerless.]

Right now the only one who's about to hurt me is you.

[She looks down at where he's clutching at her; he's stronger than her, and with little effort, he could break her bones, tear her apart. She knows that.

And yet, this little conversation right here? She is suddenly very aware that he would be doing the tearing apart to anyone who tried to hurt her, not the other way around.

Her mouth suddenly feels very dry.]

I'll just ignore him, okay? Is that what you want me to do?

[poppycock]

[ he knows that she does: with fierceness in her heart and and in her smiles, caroline perseveres. i did the thing!! isn't that what he has done? build fortresses and terrors so great no one would ever challenge or cross him, and if they did—if they did, they would pay for the mere inclination. he has made a point to make himself invulnerable just as she, but not like her. not with hope, and faith, and worth.

not then.

the reminder of who she is jars him, for as breakable as she is, what is there strong enough to break her spirit? to cow his belief and admiration of it? no one. not even he, and he'd be remiss to imply it.

(but it doesn't change how someone could break her in other ways.)

his lips part and his exhale is heavy. jarred he was but now he nearly flinches, his eyes dropping to their entwined hands and his white-knuckled grasp. his eyes close for a prolonged few seconds at her questions, because what he wants is for her to be safe. for them all to be safe. what he wants is for her to stay removed from the darknesses that shroud him and be safe and happy.

(is it not the curse of all who love him and all he loves to suffer?) his fingers slowly loosen but klaus doesn't step away. when his eyes open, there is steel in them. there is love. more than anything, more than fear or uncertainty, there is guarantee: ] I promise you: [ he stops, caught in her eyes ] I will not let harm come to you. Not on my account. [ his smile is small, but true. ] And not only because you are perfectly capable. [ he believes those words. with one last look at her, he leaves her on the dance floor. ]

[persevere]

[proud of u

She's silent as several different expressions seem to cross his face in the span of a few moments, each one more confusing than the last. Caroline's own eyes drop to their hands, clasped together and on the verge of being painful with how he's clutching her, and her mouth goes dry as she tries to process what it all means.

When she looks back up, he's letting her go, opening his eyes to stare at her in a way she recognizes only vaguely. She's seen it in the eyes of other people, and they've never made it when they looked at her.

She knows the look, and yet she finds she still can't quite accept what she knows she sees. Denial is her greatest ally in this moment, because of all the people to look at her like that, she never expected it to be him.

Caroline had almost come to expect that no one would.

She's stunned into silence at his verbal declaration, her lips parting as words stick in her throat, and then he's walking away, leaving her on the dance floor, alone. Her lips press together, wetting them with her tongue, and she sighs heavily as she turns to look back the way they came before things had gotten even more confusing.]

Of course, he'd say that and just leave...

[Men.]