Autumn Party 09

"None taken," the monk said with an easy smile and tracked Serpentine for a moment. "Serpentine?"

The winged person stopped to glance at the monk. It seemed he was perfectly capable of being brusque even when he was just looking a question at someone.

"Bring me one or two, please?" said the monk.

Serpentine hesitated for a moment before he nodded, grabbed a few glasses of wine and approached the monk.

The man in black shrugged and walked over to Nico.

Kinta leaned down to Ebani. "That was loud."

Little red answered just as quietly, "Very."

Then they ambled over to the impromptu picnic.


The little giant was still staring at the closed door thoughtfully.

"Nico, you are - "

"Too curious. It's not the first time I hear that."

" - all right, I wanted to ask..."

"Ah, sorry. Yup."

"What happened there?"

"Some ghost being snobbish about styles of music, it seems." She turned her back to the door and started in direction of the assemmbly, grinning at her companion over her shoulder. "Come on, there's this thing called 'chatting' you might have heard of." He rolled his eyes and smiled thinly, but followed.


When the winged one came back, Azra asked, "You know each other?"


Meanwhile another servant went up the stairs, carrying nothing.

At this question, the winged one and the monk looked at each other briefly before looking at Azra. The shorter (broader, heavier, darker) of the two handed two glasses of wine to the taller one. "Stay a moment," the monk said to tge other, then looked at Azra with a hint of consideration. "Yes, we do. He thinks I'm strange, of course, but he thinks that way of everyone else."

"So I do. But everybody thinks you're strange," the dark-voiced winged person said. There was no sarcasm or amusement in his voice.

"That's true most of the time," the monk said with a hint of a smile, eyes tracking the servant before they turned to Azra and the other again.

'The other' emptied a glass of wine as if it were water and said: "Ay, but I know him." That, it seemed, was all he was going to say. He did seem a lot calmer now.

The little giant approached that trio and addressed the winged one, "I hope you don't mind being called nicknames, it was just that I did not caught your real name before." She was wearing a genial smile that made her not look particularly worried about having given offense.

Her companion sat down, on the basis that sitting on the ground in a group of people standing tended to get awkward, so he didn't want to leave Lamia alone with it (the "dragon" looked like he didn't mind). He fumbled a moment with the sword to get it in a position where it wasn't in the way, and gave the two a smile.

Ebani and Kinta seemed to catch up with the idea and also sat down. Little red seemed to have given up on whatever he had been up to when he first saw Lamia, at least Kinta ended up next to her and the dragon. He said, "May I ask how you know our host?"

"I understand," Serpentine said gravely. He did, too. "I get called stranger things. It's normal."

The monk was quiet and, shrugging, took a seat on the floor. He wondered what to do with so much wine if it turned out Serpentine would stick around without drinks. He also paid attention to at least two conversations, and planned to do so until someone paid attention to him.

"And what would you prefer being called?"

Azra sat down between the monk and the man in black, her mind starting to wander. She wondered when it would be time for unmasking; she was getting thirsty.

"What, is there really a Baron Sinfather or whoever?" Lamia glanced round the circle for confirmation. "Deesh. I thought that was a bit of scene-setting."

Lamia picked up a chocolate orange segment from the plate in the middle of them. She bit it, mindful of her fake fangs.

"Serpentine," the winged person said and emptied another glass of wine. He eyed one of the monk's many glasses despite having a glassful left himself.

The monk barely looked at him: he simply handed over one of the glasses.

He could have taken any of the empty ones Lamia had brought along with the carafe, but no matter.

"Dunno," said the dragon. "I was more interested in the bit where there was dressing-up and free food."

"Dressing up," Lamia said. "You're a dog. How's that work?"

"Got myself a pet tailor," the dragon said. "Amiable fellow. As gay as a Bichon, of course."

"I'm Nico." She hesitated a moment and then went on, "Say. Are you a shapechanger?"

Kinta faltered, but the little exchange between Lamia and the dog gave him time to recover.

"Well, if he does not exist, We have been deceived. We had hoped to enter into a business relationship."

Ebani added, "Actually I came along for the company, mostly."

Serpentine didn't understand the question. Of course he wasn't. He stretched his wings after making sure nobody was standing behind him. "No. Are you?"

"Why, does he have connections in accounting?" Lamia replied to Kinta.

"That's the spirit," the dragon told Ebani. "It's far too geeky, talking shop on a party night."

The nurse and the harlequin had drifted closer to the rest of the group, but seemed still more interested in their own conversation. Thiggie did shoot the dragon an amused look on his last comment.

"I just thought, because you went in there a griffin, and came out not... Oh, well. No, I'm not." Looking irritated, Nico added, "Not of my own accord, anyway."

Kinta answered, "Not that I know of. He has some interest in unusual animals and plants."

"Not of your own accord?" Serpentine asked. "What's that mean, basically?"

The monk sipped his wine and paid attention to this exchange. He looked to be very curious.

"Means that I get shrunk to human size a lot. I suspect sorcerers think it's funny."

"They overshot this time," the dragon noted.

"Not really, I am short for a giant normally."

"I'll take your word for it," Serpentine said. "Although you're not that short."

The monk shrugged. "A matter of perspective."

Bird's eye, Serpentine thought darkly.

Nico shrugged. "Compared to usually. It's a bit annoying over all, but it does have some perks. How often do you think you get enough chocolate for a mouthful when you're eigth metres tall?"

"I wouldn't mind. Chocolate makes me ill," the scar-faced, sharp-toothed man said and shrugged. He looked at a glass of wine. "Oh. I get your point," Serpentine said and drank.

The monk smiled.