though it's been said many times, many ways

[more_magic]

It’s strange to think of where he was a year ago, exactly. Waking up in Alex’s bed, hung over from the shame of the night before and the lingering effects of whatever Manuscript had given him, preparing for his first full day in a city outside of the world he knew and realizing in the process that he’d lost nearly two months in the space of a breath. There were more shocks to come, more alterations in what he thought to be true, but very little had managed to surpass the disorientation of that initial beginning to his tenure in Darrow.

Back then, Darlington had wondered what they might have done at home, if Alex would’ve been on a plane to California at the start of break--or if he might have managed to convince her to stay, to spend Christmas at Black Elm with him. What they got instead was better, that makeshift celebration with hastily-bought gifts and the smell of a half-remembered recipe wafting from Alex’s kitchen; the start of something new, even if neither of them had known the depths of that newness at the time. And now, a year on, through hard work and some kind of miracle, he gets what he’d wondered about after all.

Christmas Day will be just for them, presents and breakfast and relaxing by the fire, but tonight is a chance to celebrate. They decorate the main floor of Black Elm, filling the rooms they’ve already managed to furnish with light and warmth, the tree they’d bought earlier in the month standing by one of the large picture windows in the great room. Alex cooks all of Estrea Stern’s recipes she can think of, adds a few of Bernadette’s that Darlington remembers from his childhood. There’s music low on the stereo, a fire lit in the vast fireplace, the new table and chairs they’d bought for the formal dining room arranged just so beneath the chandelier at the center of the room. Even Kirby gets into the spirit in a new, festive collar, bright red against his black fur.

Above all, they’ve invited the people that matter, the few who have come to mean something--to one or both of them--in the year that’s just passed. It’s the first real party Black Elm has seen in many years, not since Darlington’s grandfather was alive. It feels, once again, like starting something new.

[[tag in, tag around, enjoy the party!]]

Comments

[greatamazingfeelingsboy]

There's an odd sense of accomplishment in seeing the work Caleb's helped Daniel do on the house — castle, because no amount of explanation on Daniel's part is gonna make Caleb believe otherwise. He'd helped Daniel get so much of this done, when he wasn't in school or with Neil or Rosie, and decorated like this, it looks fucking good. He grins as it takes it in, the sight of the tree and Kirby's collar. Obviously, these guys know how to do Christmas.

Caleb, himself, is wearing a festive Christmas sweater, and he'd made sure Neil was wearing something similar — nothing necessarily fancy, but in the spirit of the holiday, anyway. The food is... incredible, and he wants to take his time and enjoy as much of it as he can. And he doesn't even need much of a break outside: Neil is there, keeping him that mossy green, and Daniel and Alex are familiar, comfortable feelings, and the rest are easy enough to keep at bay, at least for now.

How he'll feel if and when people start drinking, he doesn't know.

[ Find Caleb at any point during the party, with or without Neil at his side! He loves Christmas and he's having a great time :3 ]

[shadows_have_offended]

Even if Neil doesn't really know anyone besides Caleb, it still feels like a good enough reason to be there. It's a smaller party than the wedding had been, and he'd gone to that with great ease, so this is no problem at all.

And he's glad Caleb warned him not to dress up, because when they rolled up on the house, he'd been in mind of his parents dinner parties and wished he'd had a jacket and good shoes and a tie, and he's maybe a little self conscious about the whole thing. But that's mostly ebbed by now.

He catches Caleb by the food and tucks in close, giving him a bit of a squeeze. "Hey."

[takecourage]

Alex steps in behind him and goes up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his shoulders and give him a quick squeeze. She drops a kiss against his shoulder.

"I'm glad you guys could make it," she says. "What do you think of the decorations?"

[more_magic]

He and Alex had done much of the work on Black Elm together, wanted to do so in the name of making it theirs. It was important to them, for different as well as similar reasons, and the result of it more than shows on nights like tonight. But for as independent as they'd been, Darlington has to give equal credit to the help Caleb's provided; all those weekends between Black Elm's arrival up to now, the grubby work of rewiring and restoring, of doing something hopefully a little lasting.

It's meant a lot to him, that help, and when he notices Caleb standing off to himself amidst the whirl of the party, Darlington heads his way. "Hey," he says with a smile, joining him at the window. "Enjoying yourself?"

[shadows_have_offended]

Neil doesn't know anybody.

That's not true. Neil knows two people, besides his boyfriend who he came with: Joseph Kavinsky, who he's still not entirely sure that he even likes but that he can't really have a grudge against because he looks out for Charlie and Rosie and Sabrina; and Nova Santiago, who has seen Neil in all sorts of unfortunate states of mired and unmoored distress in the last year or two and still manages to not think he's too much of a miserable piece of shit.

The one thing that the whole party has going for it is that it feels very much like home. Neil's not sure if that's a good thing, given the time of year. Winter in a house that feels like New England is maybe asking for trouble, but he's doing his very best. And Caleb's there, pretty much always in his line of sight.

He's off sides for the moment, fidgety, wishing for a cigarette. Not uncomfortable, just nervous. He'll be fine.

[more_magic]

To those who see only the outward face--the charming golden boy of Lethe, Daniel Tabor Arlington III's well-cultivated citizen in the world--it might come as a surprise that Darlington's always preferred those times he can hang back a little and simply observe. It's comfortable there, setting aside the need to perform, letting a situation play itself out and having little part in it himself.

All he knows of him is what he's heard from Caleb, and it does no good to make assumptions. But Neil hovering there at the side of the room, uncertainty on his face and in the slight twitch of his fingers, is a little like looking at something familiar. After topping up his drink, Darlington makes a vague circuit through the room, one that just happens to lead him in Neil's direction.

"I'm glad you and Caleb could make it," he says when he's close enough, offering him an easy smile.

[scarequotesreggie]

Seeing as how he doesn't really know anybody here well save Alex, and even considering just how well he knows her, Reggie thinks that he should probably hang back a bit. Relax by the fire, maybe introduce himself to people one at a time, just take it easy and enjoy being a part of something for a change, instead of coasting through existence as quickly as possible.

Reggie does not do any of that.

"All right, who wants eggnog?" he loudly asks, picking something festive and staking his claim. "You'll have to go through the Keeper of the Nog. Here is the nog, and I am its keeper."

Good food, good company, maybe it's a far cry from being back home with his friends, but it's... something like it, regardless.

[greatamazingfeelingsboy]

"The Keeper of the Nog?"

Caleb is laughing, just a little, when he hears that. Neil isn't too far away — close enough that he can still feel the soft, dark blue of his emotions, not so close that he can overhear anything he's talking about — so for the moment, at least, all he feels is good.

He looks at the eggnog, then bites his lip.

"That's not spiked, is it?" There is alcohol here, Caleb knows, but he hasn't been keeping track of where.

[takecourage]

"Are you ever off, asshole?" says Alex, but she's grinning when she says it, leaning her ass against the edge of the table and folding her arms across her chest. "You think anymore about the job?"

Alex had managed to get him a hook up for three nights a week emceeing, plus bar-shifts when they needed the hand. She just needed Reggie to make his mind up about it. "We closed tonight and tomorrow, anyway."

[more_magic]

There's an energy to Reggie that makes Darlington think of the parties Jordan and E.J. had dragged him to over the two years he'd roomed with them. They, and the people at them, were full of a loud, reckless pretense that had annoyed as much as he'd envied it. There was a freedom to being that blithe and unconcerned, so willing to throw oneself into a situation rather than hang back. For all that he's taught himself, the push and pull of effort and the satisfaction of having it rewarded, ease is a thing Darlington's only ever been able to feign.

He's been shuttling between the kitchen and the great room at Alex's request, bringing out plates and trays of appetizers as they're ready while the dinner itself cooks. Setting down another platter, he overhears Reggie addressing the room at large and has to laugh.

"That title could use some work. Straightforward though it is."

[thebloodyglue]

In the car on the way over, Newt had told Kavinsky that he had to behave under no uncertain terms. He knows that Darlington and Kavinsky are never going to be friends, but that shouldn't mean that they can't accept a really kind invitation.

Once inside, he helps himself to a glass of wine and spends a moment taking in his surroundings.

"Wow," he says, softly. "This is a great shucking room."

[more_magic]

Inviting only Newt would have been a breach in etiquette, a social faux pas he finds himself incapable of making, no matter how justifiable the reasons for it would be. Not that Alex would've allowed it either; they've come to a detente of sorts where Kavinsky is concerned, an understanding that she chooses to call him a friend despite and that it's not likely to change just for Darlington's comfort.

He doesn't like it, any of it, but the invitation goes out to Newt and his husband both--and Darlington does his best not to bristle when he sees Kavinsky slink his way through the front door of his beloved Black Elm.

By the time he catches up with Newt, Darlington's smile comes a little easier, especially upon overhearing that softly impressed comment. "We've put in a lot of work," he says. "I think it was about...half done, maybe, last time you were up here?"

[takecourage]

Alex drifts back and forth but, increasingly, she finds herself in the kitchen, pulling things together. She's got a glass of wine at her elbow, and the kitchen smells incredible. She's making a bunch of Estrea's favourites: fassoulia, artichokes with lemon and honey, roasted beets, chicken, fish, sweet things for after. She's got an apron on over her dress, her hair twisted up into a knot on top of her head. She feels happy in a way that she never thought would ever apply to her.

She feels complete.

ooc: Alex could definitely do with a hand in the kitchen!

[more_magic]

"You're amazing," he says as he comes into the kitchen, an empty bottle of wine in one hand. After setting it in the bin by the door, he joins her at the stove, one arm looping around her waist as he drops a kiss into the twisted knot of her hair. The party's moving along easily now, their disparate groups of friends coming together into some kind of whole without Darlington or Alex to nudge them further on their way.

"What can I help with?"

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky watched for a minute, getting a feel for where things were at and what she was working on. By the time he stepped in, he seemed to get a feel for what she was working on and what needed to go where.

Plus, a timer was going off, and it was easy enough to open the oven and check what was in.

"Never took you for a domestic," he said, shuffling roasted beets on their pan before popping them back in for a last bit, and then turning his attention to things on top of the stove that are bubbling and simmering away happily. He's as familiar at the stove top as Alex seems to be, and he looks at her with that quiet understanding: food is comfort for creatures that don't see a lot of that.

"Your boy's pissed I've invaded, but I've placated him with my husband."

[formicine]

"Hey," Blue says with a little smile, poking her head in. She has a bottle of wine in hand, other gifts having been set down earlier in the evening, but it's also a little bit of an excuse to step away from small talk with a large group. Even if it's got about five times the counter space of 300 Fox Way, the warmth of a kitchen in use has something more familiar and comforting about it than most other parts of a house. Definitely than a formal dining room with a chandelier.

She thinks Alex will get that, probably, which also makes her comfortable to come talk to.

"It smells fantastic in here. Anything I can help with? Glass of wine?" She lifts it. "It says it's Spanish, but I don't think there's any way to prove or disprove that, here."

[maloscuridad]

"Don't think I knew you cooked," Nova says, his tone entirely complimentary. Alex has changed a lot from the tired, naked girl he first met. It's not just physical. There's a groundedness to her now and that makes her look happier.

Nosy, he comes in properly through the door and takes a look at the food she's working on. The dishes are pretty unfamiliar but there's something about them–the way they're made for sharing–that he can relate to.

[swerved]

Intermittently mingling and keeping at her girlfriend's side, Kat is smiling, caught up in the cheer of everything, when she makes it to the kitchen. "Wow, this smells amazing," she says, all warm and genuine. "Do you need a hand with anything?" She doesn't recognize some of the dishes, but she knows her way around a kitchen well enough. At the very least, she figures she can offer some company, anyway, so Alex doesn't have to just be in here cooking while everyone else chats in the other room.

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky had presents, for both Alex and Darlington, but really he was there for the mingle. He liked parties, and except for picking up Alex outside the place a time or two, he hadn't actually seen Black Elm. So it was sort of a good opportunity.

Plus, it felt a little bit like a peace treaty with Darlington, and Kavinsky was happy with that. Made things easier to start the year out with them not being at each others throat automatically, even if Kavinsky was pretty sure the other man would manage it in short order no doubt.

He had a drink, he had a cookie in hand. It was looking good so far.

[more_magic]

Darlington's opinion of Joseph Kavinsky had surpassed mere dislike several months ago, after finding Alex on the floor of his old apartment in Dimera--and learning it was Kavinsky, in part, that had put her there. Because she'd asked, Darlington promised Alex no grand confrontations, no petty acts of revenge, no letting whatever passed for justice in Darrow allow the other man to be considered for punishment by a jury of something much better than his peers. He didn't like it, but he'd promised it, and until she told him otherwise that was something he intended to keep.

It didn't make tonight any easier, seeing Alex open the door to Black Elm only to find Kavinsky's sharp grin on the other side. Darlington always prided himself on being polite, but the next few hours were going to stretch that to its limits.

Darlington's getting himself another glass of wine when Kavinsky saunters up to the table, looking over the plates and trays of food already laid out. He could fill his glass and go, feign needing to help Alex in the kitchen, but to not say anything is more conspicuous than making some kind of brief conversation. Darlington sets down the wine bottle, and looks Kavinsky's way.

"Those ones are just out of the oven," he says, nodding towards a plate of walnut cookies dusted in powdered sugar. "They're pretty good."

[maloscuridad]

Even the most insulated brujes can't avoid Christmas, not in New York. Nova's watched a few of the cartoons, knows some of the songs, but he knows them as an outsider. From a very young age, he'd learned Christmas was not a brujo holiday. Brujes, his grandmother taught him, celebrated the solstice, lit candles, and gave thanks for El Papá's protection during the long nights while also praying for the return of La Mamá's sunlight.

Tonight, surrounded by so many people who know of a magic beyond what can be explained by the Vatican, Nova thinks that this is the kind of Christmas that has very little to do with the birth of a king. And if anyone pushes him about it, he'll push back.

He brings a gift, wrapped in nice red paper, but wreath within the package, spun of plants and thorns that repel spirits and the mal de ojo, is entirely brujo. It matches the bracelet he wove for Alex when they first met.

[more_magic]

With Alex preoccupied by handling multiple things on the stove and in the oven, it's Darlington who answers the knock on the door, happy to find a familiar face on the other side of it. There's still a tension between them, but it's eased some since their escape from East Hallow, both of them forced to work together to make it out alive.

"Nova, hey," he says, standing aside to let him step through the doorway. "I'm glad you could make it."

[formicine]

Blue's doing all right, but that doesn't mean when she spots Nova, people-watching from the sidelines, she doesn't breathe a little sigh of relief to see someone else who didn't grow up with anything like this for a whole number of reasons.

"Hey, you," she says, coming up to give him a hug from the side. "This place is huge, isn't it?" she murmurs under her breath conspiratorially and flashes a slightly self-conscious grin.

[shadows_have_offended]

As basically the only other person in a large house and intimate party that Neil even remotely knows, Neil finds himself gravitating toward Nova while he's still feeling a little bruised from getting into a terse conversation with Caleb. He'll get back over there, but for the moment, he wants to talk to Nova and just feel--well, not angry, for one thing.

"Hey," he says by way of greeting. "You like eggnog?"

[formicine]

Blue's fondly flattered to get an invitation to Alex and Darlington's holiday party -- she likes to think of them all as close enough for that sort of thing, especially considering that holiday parties can have pretty broad invite lists, but it's still nice, the reminder.

That doesn't mean she's been invited to many -- Olive and Eduardo's was one of the last that wasn't one she threw or Magnus's. It's a wistful memory, and also familiar in how unfamiliarly fancy she'd found their place and how she'd fretted over what to wear. (She'd ultimately decided on a dress she'd made from a tall men's Christmas sweater, faux fairisle and evergreen print, belted at the waist and worn with tights and cute shoes.) That had been a townhouse in the city, though. This sort of estate she can only compare in her mind to Gansey's, which she's never been to, only received dispirited phone calls from.

It's strange, the kind of thing that makes you remember how you grew up.

Still, she laces her fingers with Kat's and reminds herself these are just her friends, reminds herself of the fond way Darlington described this place and the way they'd been fixing it up, and tips her chin up as they walk up the drive and knock on the door.

Later, in the warmth of a delightful dinner cooking away, the laughter of a very, very wide range of invitees, and music piping away, she relaxes a little, drink in hand and grateful to have made friends who, once again, want her included in their celebrations.

[OOC: Find her at any point during the party or as she's approaching!]

[more_magic]

The fire's burned lower than Darlington intended, too caught up in talking with their guests or helping Alex with the food. Still, the embers are live enough that it can be resurrected, and he settles in front of the fireplace, adding logs and feeding it with kindling until it's built back up. "There," he says, his head turning when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. When he sees it's Blue, he smiles.

"The unglamorous part of hosting, I'm afraid."