all_inclusive | Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.

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"You're back to your own self!" Porthos congratulates him with a grin, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder without needing to make it lighter than normal.

"For better or worse," Aramis agrees, smiling at his friend, only staggering a bit under the greeting. "And you - you've been at the wine already, I see."

"It's not my fault you're late to the wine," Porthos agrees with another grin, and raises his glass at his friend before taking a sip. He'll need a lot more than he has had before he's properly drunk, but he has every intention of getting there.

"I am late," Aramis says, fondness writ all over his face. "Are you planning on shooting things off the heads of others this evening? Do we need to prepare for such feats?"

"Are you volunteering?" Porthos asks, and puts his hand on Aramis's back to draw him towards the bar. He needs wine, obviously. "Most people do not trust me as you do."

Of course Aramis follows. This is what he does; he stands shoulder to shoulder with Porthos. "I suppose I am," he says. After all, Porthos has never missed.

He takes a newly-poured glass of wine and raises it to Porthos.

"Well, I'm not drunk enough yet," Porthos replies with a grin, and raises his glass to his friend. "Let's see to that."

"Cheers," Aramis agrees and he doesn't gulp his wine, but take a nice, long gulp.

"All is well with you, Porthos?" It seems so strange that they are not joined at the hip as they are in Paris.

Porthos shakes his head, after draining his glass. "Tonight is for celebration, not talk of restlessness." Being stuck here is weighing on him, but he does not want to focus on that, not tonight. He turns to refill his glass. "We ought to go and have an adventure, you and I, through one of the Doors."

"All right," Aramis agrees readily. Since he has abandoned his thoughts of being a monk whilst trapped in this place, he is all for such things. "Let's."

"Tomorrow?" Porthos offered. "We'll need a distraction from how much alcohol we will have drunk."

"Tomorrow," Aramis says. "What better way to break in the new year?" It's his turn to clap Porthos on the back. "But you'd best find your hat."

"Do I need my hat?" Porthos asked with raised eyebrows.

"Of course," Aramis scoffs. "When do you not need your hat?"

"After my tenth glass of wine," Porthos answers, very pragmatically. "This is my eleventh." Well, it's not as if he's counted them, but it might be.

"But our adventure begins tomorrow," Aramis reminds him. "Tomorrow, you will have slept at least a little." Hence the hat, at the very least.

And what if it rains?

"And I will have my hat," Porthos assures him, unconcerned. It's around here somewhere.

It is, and if needs be, Aramis will find it. He smiles again. "And what of the woman you've been seeing. Anything on that front?"

"I haven't seen her tonight," Porthos replies with a frown, looking around just in case Phryne has since made it to a party. It's not like her to miss one. "She's out and about most of the time." Which is to say, Porthos rarely has a clue where she's gone off to, and it's the way Phryne Fisher likes it. They've got a nice arrangement, such as it is, and Porthos would be a fool to try and change it.

Well, hrm.

Hopefully, she comes. Porthos, after all, deserves good things.

Aramis clasps his shoulder. "Tomorrow, we shall adventure."

"But what of you, and women?" Porthos asks, tilting his head. "Getting back in the saddle would do you good."

And might just stop him from bloody well joining a monastery. One could only hope, and Aramis did love women.

"I have been ... well," And here, Aramis adopts that faux-wistful quality he uses at times. "Considering it. Alas, there has yet be someone who has caught my eye quite in that way, Porthos."

Which does not mean, of course, that he's not looking. Oh, he's looking.

Porthos frowns, then nods decisively. "More drink will definitely help." Knowing Aramis, it isn't so much that no one has caught his eye, but that no one will, in his mind, rival with the Queen. Drink will help with that, Porthos is certain.

What, and blur his vision?

Perhaps. But Aramis knows that being with the Queen is impossible. A relationship only endangers all of them. He must be smart about this. He must not put his heart first.

Athos has already indicated he has no faith in Aramis. Aramis, for his part, is determined to prove him wrong.

He smiles at what Porthos says, though and clasps his shoulder. "Let us drink then."

"Let's drink some more," he agrees, and claps his hand on Aramis's back. Drink some more, and then find some female company. That sounds like a lovely plan.

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averygoodshot - 2016-01-12 00:08 (UTC) - Expand