#and there are a few i’d love to have (gala !! sasha !!) but i’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth dog bless 🙏 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karuvapatta · 11 months

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I've had a long day so this part is shorter. But there's a cliffhanger!! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

***

He didn’t take any cigarettes. Why didn’t he take cigarettes? Ostensibly, it’s because he’s been trying to quit, and because it’s an awful habit, and because smoking has been rightfully banned in most public spaces – which are all valid, yes, but, counterpoint: Jon really needs a cigarette right now.

No such luck. He can see two people smoking, but given who the gala is for and Jon’s own rotten luck, they are probably in service of a Fear Entity that would love to swallow Jon whole. So he hides in the shadows instead, his back pressed against the walls of the Institute, and takes some comfort in the fact that the Archives are nearby. Just a short walk down the main hall, a staircase, and a corridor, with the familiar door at the end. And there’s the cot in the old storage room, a kettle, five different types of tea, fresh milk in the fridge, biscuits, a few apples, bread and ham and cheese… it is a little sad that the small kitchen in the break room is stocked better than the one in Jon’s apartment, but this is his life now.

The only reason he isn’t down there right now is that it’s the first place Elias would look for him. If he even needed to look.

He could hide in the tunnels. He would, if he had a torch, some supplies, and a comfier pair of shoes. Or, really, a reason to go for such extreme measures.

…besides, if Elias tried to look for him and couldn’t see him anywhere, wouldn’t he figure out that Jon is somewhere that’s hidden from the Eye, and since the tunnels are nearby and relatively safe, that’s where he must have gone?

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, because Jon hasn’t done anything to warrant Elias hunting him down. He just—turned around and fled the room. Just like that. Shame it wasn’t at the stroke of midnight, and Jon had no glass slippers to leave behind. Alas, it’s only 9:34 and Jon’s shoes are the most generic brand available, and they pinch a little anyway.

So it’s not a perfect metaphor. Jon was never great at those. The fact remains that it’s a chilly evening, he is shivering slightly, sitting on the steps of the Institute, and aching for a smoke. He is also alone. Not in any supernatural way, but if he stays here any longer, he isn’t sure the fog won’t come creeping back for him.

He fishes the phone out of his pocket, and considers his options for a few minutes, before he cracks and calls Martin.

“Jon?”

“Erm. Hi,” Jon says. His mind is blank; he should have thought of something to say. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No, not at all. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Martin. The concern in his voice is so apparent, and it sets around Jon’s shoulders like a warm blanket. It’s wonderful; Jon wonders if he will ever come to deserve it.

“Everything’s fine,” Jon says. He feels slightly guilty for making Martin worry in the first place, so he hurries to add: “The gala was rather uneventful. I think I’m going to head home.”

“Oh!” There are some noises on Martin’s end of the line; he can recognize familiar voices. “We are actually at a pub right now? With Tim and Sasha. Would you like to join us?”

He says it all in a rush. He’s expecting Jon to decline; Jon has never accepted their invitation in the past. It might have been a sense of propriety, some rules about fraternizing with one’s subordinates. But he knows that’s not the whole truth.

“I’d like that,” Jon says. “If, erm, Tim and Sasha don’t mind?”

There’s laughter on the other end; are they laughing at him? They must be. Good lord, why is he always so awkward…

“They don’t,” Martin says. “Come on, I’ll text you the address.”

***

It’s a quaint little place, not far from the Institute. A coincidence? Or is it part of the binding, that they cannot stray too far from it even on a Friday night? Either way, all three of them look reasonably relaxed, sharing a cramped booth and finishing off a round of drinks.

“Looking good, boss,” Sasha grins at him. Jon would assume she’s being sarcastic but there’s no malice to her tone; he still fiddles with the sleeve of his suit jacket, aware that he is horribly overdressed for such an informal setting.

“I should have changed,” he says. “But it was already pretty late…”

“No! I mean, uh,” Martin clears his throat nervously. “You do look really nice.”

“Smooth, man,” Tim mutters.

He smiles at Jon, but there’s something uncomfortably guarded in his expression. Jon aches for a time when things were simpler between the two of them.

“So! Tell as bout the gala,” Sasha says, sipping something bright and colourful through a straw. Jon perches down on a seat opposite her, next to Martin, who is shuffling around awkwardly to make more space, and whose face is now almost entirely red.

“Like I said,” Jon says. “Uneventful.”

“Really?” Tim asks. “No black candles, no ritual sacrifice?”

“You make it sound like we’re in a cult.”

“We are in a cult.”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Martin asks.

“No. I suppose not.”

An awkward silence descends upon the table. Jon fidgets with his hands, and the others drink, each scanning around for a safe topic of conversation.

They don’t find it right away. But it unspools gradually, through books and music and movies. Jon buys a round of drinks for everyone – he is their boss, after all, it seems customary – and Tim smiles a little more favourably at him after that.

It is nice, in a very mundane way. But Jon appreciates the mundanity of it all the more for how rare it’s been. They drink, and chat, and everything’s going perfectly well until Tim pulls out his phone to check his messages, and goes incredibly, unnaturally still.

“Tim?” Sasha asks. “You okay?”

Tim looks up. Stares at Jon. Then he looks down again.

“More or less, yeah,” he says. “So, Jon. About that gala…”

#jonelias #dun dun DUH #the magnus archives #this fic doesn't have a plot #just a series of awkward situations to put jon into #jonathan sims

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queenjunoking · 3 years

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Wolf Taming pt 36

CW: Noncon - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation

Sasha

I felt disoriented when I woke up. It took me a few moments to start remembering a few things. There were still a few blank spots in my memory though.

I remembered Z.

I remembered the humiliation and pain she inflicted upon me.

I remembered kicking her ass before she had to cheat.

I remembered that she seemed afraid of something?

But the rest was lost in the cloud for a moment. I tried to open my eyes, but it just made me feel worse. I just tried my best to not vomit as the world spun a bit.

I tried to move, to grab for the bars of the cage to help ground myself, but something was holding my arms crossed behind my back. After a few moments of struggling I gave up trying to get out of whatever it was. Just something else Z had done to me while I was asleep.

I tried to call out, but there was something in my mouth muffling my speech. Some kind of padded bar. I tried to spit it out, but quickly found out it was stuck. I needed to open my eyes and see what was going on. I slowly peeled my eyes open, trying my best to deal with the dizziness as it came.

My heart jumped into my throat. I could see a wooden door in front of me. My vision was much more narrow and limited. There was something on my head that blocked the sides of my vision, only letting me see forward. I tried to stand but I immediately lost my balance and fell. I looked down at my feet and saw some kind of heelless boots strapped to my feet. I tried to kick them off but they wouldn’t budge. They may as well be glued on. I couldn’t see it well, but I could feel a series of leather strapped around my torso. A harness of some sort most likely given the rest of the things I was wearing.

The holes in my memory began to fill in. Z said someone was going to take me away from her. She gave me a drug that would let me sleep away to delay what was going to happen to me. Apparently it had finally worn off.

The wooden door suddenly squeaked open and two women walked in. They looked like rich snobs. They were dressed like they rode horses professionally.

“Good morning Callidora.” Another name. One almost worse than the one I was given by the last sociopath.

“Or evening based on your perspective I guess.” The other one said, holding out a leash and attaching it to a ring on my harness.

“Normally we wait to do this until daytime, but Mistress Eos has left instructions that you are going to be doing your first marathon tonight. Isn’t that exciting?” The first one spoke again, sounding a bit nervous.

The second one gave the harness a tug, trying to pull me out of the room I was in. I dug in the best I could, pulling her back with me.

“A little help?” The second one snapped at the first one.

“Oh, sorry.” The first one grabbed onto the leash and began pulling with the first one.

Neither were very strong, but it was a losing battle. There were no heels on these boots for me to use to dig in. They slowly just pulled me out of the stall. But it gave me time to start formulating a plan.

Once we reached the edge of the room I smiled to myself. They were pulling with all their might. So I went with them and jolted forward. The sudden lack of tension sent them crashing into the ground and they let go of the leash. I took a quick look around and saw that I was in a barn of some kind.

There was an exit not too far away. I bolted as fast as I could towards it. Freedom was so close.

But then someone stood in the way. It was a woman with short black hair. I could see a collar around her neck and cuffs around her wrist. I tried to avoid her, but there was only so fast I could run in these boots. She grabbed the leash trailing behind me and pulled. The force sent me to the ground.

“Ah, Callidora! I’m glad to see you’re awake and so eager to start your run.” She used the leash to forcefully pull me back to my feet. I glared at her and tried to yell at her, but it came out as jumbled nonsense. “Ah, a feisty one. I love that look in your eyes.”

She pulled on the leash, forcing me closer and closer to her until we were face to face. “I especially like watching that spunky light in the eyes of ponies go out as they’re broken in the perfect little racers.”

I did the only thing I could. I pulled my leg back and with all the force I could manage I drove my knee directly into her gut.

After the commotion died down a bit a band in the corner began to play. They were dressed nicely, but on closer inspection you could see their legs chained to the floor. It was an extravagance most members would want to deal with. Performers were difficult to deal with and mistakes could ruin events. It was easier to just shell out the money and pay an actual band to play, but I guess Rayne and Flora never did things the easy way.

I followed Rayne and Flora as they made their way around the room, making sure I was a few behind them rather than being with them. Flora made it a point to interrupt any conversation that seemed particularly active while ignoring the more casual ones. She’d walk up and the group would part for her and shower her with happy birthdays and compliments.

It must be nice to be surrounded by yes men all the time.

After about half an hour of doing this on repeat as we moved from group to group Rayne suddenly spoke up.

“I’ll be back in a moment my pretty peony, I have to check to make sure everything is set up for a bit of fun later.” She gave Flora a kiss and left us alone to go and talk with a woman in a purple dress. I saw the woman in purple smirk and then the two vanished down a hallway.

“So, Z. How are you enjoying the party?” Flora’s voice dragged my attention away from the two.

“It's… different.” It was overwhelming. There were so many people here. They made so much noise. It was louder than the auction house and it was making it difficult to keep my attention on anything in particular. “I’m not used to events like these. The auction house occasionally throws galas but I typically avoided them. Having an event like this be my first one is… well a lot.” I tried to punctuate my statement with a laugh, but it felt more awkward than I thought it would.

“Have you had anything to eat?” She reached out and grabbed a passing maid by her collar and pulled her back. I could see her eyes widen as she tried to stay on her feet and not drop the plates she was carrying.

“I haven’t. I typically don’t eat much.” I probably wouldn’t if I didn’t need it. I had better things to do than cook for myself or sit down for meals.

“I can tell, you really should eat more. You never know when you’ll need that energy.” Flora smiled and picked up a piece of chocolate off the plate and popped it into her mouth. She looked at me and gestured to the plate. “Please, dear, have one. Gold Medal chocolates. They’re unfortunately quite delicious. It’s so unfair that Eos can make these. As much as the world would suffer without them, I do hope her cow kicks the bucket so she can’t profit off of them anymore.”

Those words ate through the noise. I had a job to accomplish here and it was just easier to just do whatever dumb thing she asked of me to keep her from getting upset. I took one off the plate and popped it into my mouth. I wanted to hate it. I didn’t like chocolate. But it was unreasonably good. It seemed unfair that the bitterness I felt didn’t seep into the chocolate.

“Good, isn’t it?” There was an odd smugness in Flora’s voice I didn’t quite understand.

Unfortunately the bitterness seeped out of my mouth. “Unfortunately.”

The food was a gift. An expensive one at that, I was aware these chocolates carried a hefty price tag that I’d never dream of paying. Insulting something like that was very frowned upon.

But Flora just laughed. “Isn’t it? Nothing wrong with being bitter, Z. Not everyone gets what they deserve, for better or worse. Some people, like Eos, get more than they ever deserved to get. Others… well-”

She was cut off when Rayne walked back into the room. “Greetings guests. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves. But let’s not forget what this night is truly about.” Rayne approached Flora, tipped her head up, and kissed her. “It’s about my darling daffodil’s birthday. We’ll be moving to the next room in a moment. We’ll choose a few gifts at random for her to open in front of everyone. We’ll open the rest on our own later on.”

Rayne motioned for the crowd to move into the next room. I followed close behind Flora and Rayne. Was this the entertainment Rayne had been talking about? It was basically a roulette wheel. Having your gift chosen to be opened in front of everyone brought everyone’s attention on you and your gift. If Flora didn’t like it your status could sink. If she did you could probably milk it for some leniency if you asked her for a favor.

I did my best to keep up, but the sea of guests all trying to enter into the other room cut me off from the two. I decided to just stay back and just wait until the crow dissipated before I attempted to catch up.

“Watch it!” I heard a shrill voice call out. I looked into a sea of people and saw a woman with a ponytail chastising the woman in purple I had seen earlier.

“Apologies, Miss Rhiannon. I tripped.” Scout laughed awkwardly. She looked almost as out of place as I did. She cleaned up better than I did, but despite that she didn’t seem to be a high society kind of person.

“Whatever, just get out of my way. If I missed a front row seat I’m going to be pissed.” I could feel my blood boil as she spoke. She wasn’t much better than her aunt. Though at least Eos technically had accomplishments. Rhiannon was just a spoiled brat.

Eventually the crowd thinned enough that I could make my way through. In the front was Flora sitting behind a table. Beside her was a table piled high with presents. There were about 20 chairs set up facing Flora with the rest of the guests standing towards the back. All the spots were filled, but I kept walking towards the front. I didn’t want to get lost in the crowd if I was supposed to still be following the two around.

“Excuse me!” I felt a hand grab my arm as I tried to pass the front row so I could speak to Flora. I looked down at an older man with a greying beard that looked fairly peeved. “There are no spots open. Go to the back with the others, these are the spots for people who matter.”

I narrowed my eyes and was about to say something I was probably going to regret, but I was luckily interrupted by Rayne. “Ah, Z. I was wondering where you ran off too.”

She walked over from the present table and stood in front of me. She glanced down at the man holding my arm and he slowly let go. “You’re right Archibald. These seats are for the people who matter. Z has an epithet and you haven’t accomplished anything in the sixty years you’ve been a member other than sit on the money your parents made.”

“M-master Rayne I don’t think that's a fai-” Rayne didn’t wait for him to finish. Her hand shot out and gripped Archibald around the collar. With ease she pulled him out of his chair and threw him to the ground.

She gestured to the empty seat. “Seat’s just opened up Z.” I took the seat and watched Rayne step over Archibald. “Anyone without a seat stands in the back.”

Archibald turned bright red and walked towards the back. He was livid, but doing anything right now was basically suicide. The crowd in the back had their eyes on him as he joined them. He had lost a lot of face and I had a feeling he would never truly recover from it.

The crowd had quieted down after Archibald got thrown to the ground, but it was silent once Rayne stood beside Flora.

Rayne was about to say something, but Flora interrupted before she could get a word out. “Rayne? I want to open the red present with the purple ribbon.”

Rayne looked through the pile and found the one Flora had requested and placed it on the table in front of her. She carefully undid the ribbon and took the top off the box and peeked inside. She had an unreadable expression as she reached in and pulled out a small black box. She frowned and looked at the name-tag again.

“Virgil? I’m afraid I don’t know what this is.” She frowned at it and looked a bit bored.

I heard him stand up and clear his throat. I turned to look at him along with most of the people in the front rows. “Apologies, Lady Flora. I realize it’s not the most obvious gift. Had I thought I might be lucky enough for my gift to be on display I would have had it all packed in a larger box together.” Rayne cleared her throat, signaling to him to hurry it up. “Uh, right. So that’s part of a device made by a friend of mine. It goes along with a pad to stand on and some… let’s say fun instruments. The box is a camera of sorts. You have someone stand on the pad and turn on the camera. You can record them or even stream it live.”

Flora seemed a bit more interested. “So it’s mostly just a camera. What’s the point of this pad I’ve yet to see?”

“There are instructions for an app you can download that will let you set a pose. Once you press the button the camera knows exactly how the person should be standing and if they aren’t it sends a signal to one of the fun instruments for various effects. The pad helps the camera know how a person should be standing so it doesn’t go off on accident or fail to go off when it should. It also doubles as a pedestal.” Virgil shrugged. “You seem to have a love of still life statues, I thought this might be interesting to you, it would even let you show off some of them in real time if you were ever interested in sharing that with more people.”

Flora smiled at that and carefully placed the camera back in the box. “Thank you Virgil, it’s an interesting gift and I can’t wait to try it out.” He seemed relieved that Flora liked the gift and sat back down. “How about you choose the next one, raindrop? I’d love to see which you’ll pick.” Flora smiled up at Rayne.

“If that’s what you’d like my delightful daisy.” Rayne turned to the present table and examined it for a few moments before choosing a small green box that could fit into the palm of her hand. “Sometimes the best presents come in small boxes.”

“So wise.” Flora laughed a bit and untied the ribbon. She smiled as she opened the box, excited to see what she had been gifted.

But the smile vanished as quickly as it came.

Flora frowned and looked down into the box. No one was speaking before, but the silence became more taut now. A drop of a pin would sound like an explosion. She dropped the top of the small box onto the table and the thud resonated throughout the room. She then turned the box upside down.

“Empty.” She read the tag on the box and then locked eyes with Emerald. “Miss Pluto. I invited you into my home, to a party for the best of the best to mingle and meet. Provided everyone here with the best food and drink money could buy. Did I do something to offend you? What did I do to deserve this at my party?”

The eyes in the room moved off of Flora and over to Emerald. I expected her to be upset, getting called out like this was dangerous for everyone involved. But Emerald wasn’t afraid.

She was angry.

“Lady Flora, I hate to be the one to spoil what is in a gift. They’re supposed to be surprises. But I made my gift. I know you enjoy the many rare and hard to acquire things the Society makes and I know you have been unable to get a hold of a certain kind of flower. My present was a miniature gemstone carved into a purple rose encased in resin so it could be worn around your neck.” Emerald crossed her arms and turned towards the crowd in the back. “Despite my talent I am not ashamed to say it took dozens of attempts to work on something that small and delicate. It’s a priceless piece that ultimately took hundreds of hours of repeated attempts to make. Not only has it been stolen from Lady Flora, it is an insult to me that someone else thinks they should have it.”

“I’d like to believe you, Emerald. I really would.” Emerald turned back around when Flora spoke up. “It sounds like a very lovely and thoughtful gift. You and my beloved raindrop’s family’s are so close. So let’s see if we can find it. No one has left the party yet.” Flora crossed her arms, pouted, and looked up at Rayne. “I want all the guests searched.”

Flora, as always, got what she wanted. A few maids brought in another table and Rayne patted down a few people to start. Once they were cleared Rayne chose a few people she trusted to help search people. A couple people would go up to one of the tables at a time and get patted down. If they were carrying a bag it was emptied onto a table to be sifted through before they could gather their things and stand off to the side.

Despite standing with Flora the entire night, I was patted down before I went to stand behind Flora. Rayne said she was only being fair by including me, though I never thought Rayne would be one to expend effort in the name of fairness.

The process was taking forever. They were making their way through the people who were seated. Almost twenty minutes had passed and only the last row remained at this point. It seemed like a lost cause. What idiot would just hold onto it?

I looked over the crowd standing in the back. None of them dared to look impatient, but I doubt that any of them wanted to be standing there. I managed to catch eyes with Briar who just shrugged at me. This incident was eating into my time to talk to Flora about Sasha.

“Alright.” Rayne sighed. “I guess we have to check the bac-”

She was caught off with a man at the table beside Flora yelling out “ah-ha!” followed by the sound of someone hitting the table.

“Let go of me!” I looked over at the table and saw Rhiannon being held against the table by the man, one hand keeping her head pressed to the table while his other hand kept her arms held behind her back.

“Master Rayne, Lady Flora. On the table.” The man gestured to the table with his head, making sure not to let Rhiannon up.

Flora, Rayne and I looked at the table and saw a small necklace on the table. I heard Flora gasp softly. She was apparently pleased with the newly returned gift. Emerald wasn’t exaggerating. It was a fairly small orb that contained an entire miniature rose that appeared to be chiseled out of some kind of gemstone. The stem and thorns were some green gemstone and the flower was a purple gemstone. The petals were so thin you could almost see through them. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how something like this was made.

Rayne walked over to the table and hooked a finger through the chain and examined the necklace. “Rhiannon? I’m surprised with you. Here I thought our families were friends. Are you not doing your probation with a metal smith, why steal a piece of jewelry made by another family of metal smiths?”

“I wasn’t the one who fucking took it!” Rhiannon screamed as the man struggled to keep her held against the table.

“Then why was it in your bag?” Rayne asked, dangling the necklace in front of her face.

“S-someone must have slipped it in there!” Rhiannon was hyperventilating, struggling to figure out an answer.

Rayne just rolled her eyes. “Someone slipped it in there? You’re saying someone not only had the gall to steal from my beloved buttercup, but they also just decided to slip it into your bag? What do you think their plan was? Steal it back from you later?”

“Y-yes! No! I-I don’t know!” Tears were streaming down her face. “I w-wouldn’t take it! I swear.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” She turned to the man holding Rhiannon. “I hate to ask a guest for assistance, but since you have her would you take her to our cells in the basement? Unfortunately I’ll have to get the enforcers involved.”

He simply nodded and a maid approached to lead him away. The crowd in the back of the room moved at of the way as the three made their way out. All of their eyes were on Rhiannon.

She continued to cry as she was dragged out of the room, but Rayne couldn’t help but get one last jab in. “Oh, Rhiannon?”

“Y-y-yes?” The man stopped dragging her out of the room for a moment and Rhiannon calmed down, a look of hope on her face.

“I’ll be speaking to the Gia family personally about the status of your probation.” Rayne gave her a smirk as Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

“Y-you can’t do this to me. Please! I didn’t do anything wrong!” Rhiannon’s screams were even louder than before, any pretense of dignity was gone.

“Why are you doing this to me!?” Was the last thing she screamed before she was pulled into the hallway and the door was shut behind her. Her words echoed through the room for a moment before they joined the silence of the crowd.

Rayne twirled the necklace around her finger before she turned around and approached Flora. She unclasped the necklace and carefully put it around Flora’s neck before tilting her head up and giving her a deep, passionate kiss.

After the uncomfortably long kiss they parted stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Rayne turned around to address the crowd.

“So, how about we enjoy dessert before the cops arrive?”

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amazingmsme · 7 years

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Come Now, Old Man

Pierre considered himself a simple man who didn't ask for much. All he really ever wanted to do was work and drink away his sorrows. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, because he couldn't even go a day without a certain young lad waltzing through the door. "What are you doing in here, Old Man? It's a lovely day out, the fresh air would do you some good," Anatole said, sitting himself atop of Pierre's desk, crossing one leg over the other. "Thank you but the air in my office does the job just fine," he said, glancing up at him before returning to his work. Anatole sighed, "Well if you don't plan on going outside, could you give me 50 rubles?" He held out his empty palm, flashing his dazzling smile and pleading eyes at Pierre, who just gave him an unamused look. When Anatole didn't stop his begging, Pierre rolled his eyes with a sigh, digging into his pocket and fishing out his money. "Ah, thank you! You truly are the best brother-in-law I could ask for! Which is why I still wish for you to accompany me to the club," Anatole suggested, standing up and leaning on the back of his chair and resting his chin atop Pierre's head, who stood up, causing Anatole to almost fall. "Why are you so insistent I come with you? What are you getting at?" Anatole looked to the floor, acting as though he were a kicked puppy, "I just thought it would be nice to have some company. Dolokhov is still recovering, so he can't come with me." "I still don't understand why you want me to come. I'm sure you'll find some girl to entertain yourself with, and I'm very busy," Pierre explained, hating to see the young man upset but also really not wanting to go with him. As much fun as he could be, he could also be annoying, and Pierre still felt guilty about the duel, so he was in no rush to go back to the place where it happened. Anatole sighed. "I get bored when I'm alone. I wanted to see if Helene wanted to come, but she shooed me away and said to bother you instead," Anatole explained. "But if you don't want to go to the club that's okay. I'm fine here," he said, beginning to make himself at home. Of course Helene would tell her brother to bother him instead. Now his only options were to go with Anatole to the club, or stay in his office with the cocky young man. The old man resigned himself to his fate and settled back down into his chair, pulling out a bottle from his stash. "Good idea, let's get drunk!" Anatole said, already unscrewing the cap of his flask and taking a swig. Pierre lifted the bottle, clinking it against the container. "Cheers." It didn't take them long to get drunk. They laughed and drank, telling stories of embarrassing things that they've done. Anatole laughed as he poured himself another glass, "You're tehelling me, that you slipped on the ice in front of everyone while walking up the steps to the gala?" Pierre chuckled himself, swirling the glass in his hand. "Yes, and it didn't help that Prince Bolkonsky said "Even I knew there was ice there," that crazy old man," he said, finishing his drink. Anatole wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, "Oh that is priceless. Would you like to hear about the time I got caught whilst having sex? Or the time Dolokhov made me spew wine out of my nose and onto a girl I was trying to seduce?" Pierre raised an eyebrow, "How'd he get you to do that?" Anatole grinned widely, shifting in his chair and almost falling off. He regained his balance with a little help from Pierre and began his story. "So we were at this ball. Or was it a gala? Or maybe the club, I don't know I'm too drunk to remember. But I had found this beautiful woman, and started to talk with her, hoping to do things later that night. Well, Dolokhov was getting fed up because we had gone out to have a good time together, and no girls seemed interested in him. So as I'm flirting with her, I think her name was Sasha, Dolokhov sneaks up behind me and as I take a sip from my glass like so," he paused his story, taking another drink, "He skitters his fingers over my sides. Now, I'm very ticklish, even more so when I'm intoxicated, so I kind of convulsed and laughed, making the wine shoot out of my nose and drench the poor girl! And Dolokhov, just to be a bastard, kept wiggling his fingers over my sides so I was laughing like a madman, which of course made me look as though I was laughing at her. I am telling you now, I did not get to take anyone home that night," he finished, chuckling as he brought his drink up to his lips. Pierre laughed, dumbfounded. "I didn't know you were ticklish," he said, eying the young man with interest. Anatole nodded, "Yes, and Helene would often torture me when we were younger. I'd try to fight back of course but once she went for my hips all hope was lost." "And you said being drunk makes it worse?" he asked, an uncharacteristic and mischievous gleam in his eyes. It wasn't till that moment that Anatole realized his mistake. His face paled and he began to grow nervous with the anticipation of what was to come. He made to stand, but in his drunken haste, his feet caught around the legs of his stool and he fell straight into Pierre's lap. He offered a nervous smile. "Nice catch, Old Man," he joked, hoping to buy him some time to get away. ""Old Man?" Oh you're in for it now," Pierre growled, scribbling his fingers along his sides. Anatole immediately burst into loud laughter, squirming in his hold. "Ihihihi'm sohohohorry NO NOT THERE!" he yelled out when the older man dug underneath his arms, squeezing the flesh at the top of his ribs. He then worked his hands over his ribs, playing them like a piano and extracting loud shrieks. "Pieheheherre please!" he pleaded, trying to push his hands away. "I'll stop if you can guess what song I'm playing on your ribs," he bargained, knowing how impossible the task would be, even if he were sober. "Ihihihihi cahahan't!" Anatole cried out and Pierre shrugged. "Too bad," he said and moved down to squeeze at his hips. Anatole let out an ear piercing shriek, bucking wildly. Pierre winced at the sound, surprised his glasses didn't crack from the high pitched tone. He then fell into deep hysterics, trying with all his might to get away but was weak from laughter. Pierre showed him mercy after a few minutes of torturing his hips, and lightly brushed against his neck and ears, bringing forth bubbly giggles and snorts, with hiccups mixed in every few seconds. "Pi- Pieheherre, ihihit ti-tickles tohohoo much," he whined, scrunching up his neck to try and protect himself. Pierre finally stopped, and Anatole slid to the floor in a giggling heap, making sure to scoot away just in case Pierre tried anything else. Pierre laughed, "You really are very ticklish." Anatole glared up at him, a bright smile still on his face, "And you are very mean." Pierre huffed, "A mean man wouldn't give you 50 rubles every time they were asked." "No, but they would torture you for an hour!" he argued. Pierre rolled his eyes, "It was only 15 minutes. Always so dramatic," he teased, reaching over and ruffling the young man's blond hair. Anatole swatted his hand away, fixing his hair back to normal. Pierre helped him to his feet, steadying him. Anatole studied him, "You wouldn't happen to be ticklish, would you?" He gave him a stern look and said, "If you ever try, I just might have to play Mozart's Symphony on your ribs." He shivered at the threat, nodding frantically. "Good. Now how about we go upstairs?"

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