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Sep. 29th, 2011 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wildwesthero[ooc: Apparently this is tracing the origins of Charles' character from this three-year old fic. IDEK anymore. *throws hands up*]
Andrew stumbled across the dewy ground awkwardly, Charles attempting to lead the way. Andrew knew the ground was dewy as the hems of his trousers were getting wet. As were his socks. If he hadn't been blindfolded, he felt he might not have bumped into quite so many wet things.
"Where are we going? I feel like we've walked a mile already," Andrew whined.
Charles looked back at him, grinning broadly. "Not long now, I promise. It's a surprise, remember?"
"I'll punch you when I get this blindfold off, I swear-" Andrew cursed as he tripped over an exposed tree root. He stumbled inelegantly, but Charles was there to catch him, helping him to his feet.
"Alright. We'll stop a moment. I need to do one last thing anyway," Charles said.
"One more thing? Like what? Where are we going? It's not one of your posh parties, is it?" Andrew said. "I hate those things. I never know anyone and they keep teasing me about my hair."
"You should get a haircut then," Charles said with smile. He took the masks carefully out of the backpack and put his on. It matched his outfit. He was going as a peacock. Andrew, however, had something else. "Promise me you won't laugh?"
"Laugh? What could I possibly have to laugh at?" Andrew said.
Charles removed the blindfold, and Andrew could finally see. He could finally see the mask Charles was wearing and the other he had in his hand. In the distance, there was a grand mansion. They appeared to be in some sort of woodland.
"It's a masque ball, alright? I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I wanted it to be a surprise. It's not a uni thing, and it's not one of those posh parties either. Different crowd altogether. I don't even know who half these people are. Oh, and don't you dare call me Charles in there. I'm the Marquis Carlos Alejandro y Catalania. Think you can remember that? We'll have to get you a name too," Charles said.
Andrew looked at him strangely. "A name? What kind of name?"
"Any sort of name. It's like role-playing. Make yourself a character. You're good at that. If you like it, we'll come back next time. We only use pseudonyms at balls. No real names. I don't even know who any of these people are. We just meet up for balls every couple of months. People get together sometimes, like, they pair up and get married before the Queen, and there's a new Queen elected every year, but no real names. I think it's also because half the women are men, and half the men are women. There's a lot of cross-dressing and genderplay here. So, y'know, address people the way they're presenting, so if they're wearing a dress, call 'em a woman. That sort of thing. Even if it's a bloke underneath. Got that?" Charles said.
Andrew thought about that. "That makes sense, I suppose. So am I supposed to be your wife or something? Or can I be someone else? I'm not exactly in a ball gown, you know."
"Be whoever you like. Peerage preferred. So many bloody Counts and Dukes and Lords in there, I tell you. You can't go as royalty though, that's preserved for those in charge. You can become royalty if you want, but it takes a long time to be accepted into the royal family," Charles said.
"Um, well, how about Duke Sandringham of Gloucester? Sound poncey enough?" Andrew said.
"Oh, you can't have Gloucester. Gloucester's taken. That's a royal title. As is Westminster, I believe, Bavaria, Northumbria, and Wales. You could have Essex, I think? Or Worcester. I don't think anyone has Worcester yet. Or maybe, oh, I think Caledonia's free as well. You could be a Scottish Lord. Um. I'll show you the chart when we get in there. It's got all the titles mapped over it so you can see who has what," Charles said as he handed over Andrew's mask.
"Someone's organised then. So, Duke Sandringham of Worcester, is it? Oh well, that'll have to do. Do I look like a Duke? I can't tell," Andrew said as he slipped the mask on.
"You look fine. Now come on, let's get going, they're about to start," Charles said, taking his hand.
Andrew found himself led into the mansion. There were people everywhere in masks and all manner of grand costumes. Andrew had never seen so many expensive-looking ball gowns before. They didn't have time to look around as they were announced before the assembled masses and escorted into the room.
There was a round of applause and Charles seemed to come to life, playing up to his role of Marquess with much enthusiasm. Andrew went along with it, embellishing his character to the point where he'd single-handedly banished a dragon, declared war on France, and saved several small children from wells.
The ball seemed to go on for hours. Andrew didn't particularly notice the time passing. He spent most of his time by Charles' side, telling everyone he was a long lost cousin or something. It might've been step-brother by the time he'd had two champaignes, and he was sure he might've told some buxom wench they were fucking twins around midnight when the room had become a blur of light and stars and darkness. Definitely too much champaigne.
If there was one highlight to the evening, and if Andrew was being honest, there had been quite a few of those, it was pulling Charles into a spectacularly drunken kiss right before they left the ballroom, to the cheers of everyone around.
Staggering out into the night, they walked back, arm in arm, happy with the world. They shared a few more kisses when no one could see them, before falling back onto the couch in the living room when they finally arrived home.
"So, my Lord, how was that delightful evening?" Charles said, throwing his mask aside.
Andrew lay his head back, smiling. "Fucking brilliant. When can we go again?"
"In a couple of months when the next ball's held. I'll let you go. If you want to think of another character in the mean time, go right ahead. It's not like anyone would notice. It was your first night. It can take a while to find a character you really like," Charles said.
"Says you, Mr Marquis. I think we were twins by the end of the evening. Was it twins? I can't remember anymore. Maybe a different character would be a good idea. Should I find a nice dress this time? Something lovely and posh just for you?" Andrew gazed at him, brushing a finger across his cheek.
Charles smiled back and held his hand gently. "I'd let you be my princess, sure. Marchioness, actually. If you wanted us to be married, of course. But you could be a Duchess or a Countess or something. I could call you my Lady and maybe take you to one of the private rooms to spend some time alone. We can do that, you know. We'd have to keep in character, and keep the masks on, but I can take you to bed. Just let me know if you want to stay overnight and I'll arrange it, okay?"
Andrew tried not to find that as funny as he did. "Oh, I do love it when you're a gentleman. Makes a change from you being a bastard."
Charles didn't look in the least bit offended and merely pulled Andrew into a drunken kiss. Andrew laughed as Charles pinned him down. He wasn't sure they would be getting to sleep for a while.
Muses: Charles Firth and Andrew Hansen
Fandom: The Chaser RPS
Word Count: 1303
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.
Andrew stumbled across the dewy ground awkwardly, Charles attempting to lead the way. Andrew knew the ground was dewy as the hems of his trousers were getting wet. As were his socks. If he hadn't been blindfolded, he felt he might not have bumped into quite so many wet things.
"Where are we going? I feel like we've walked a mile already," Andrew whined.
Charles looked back at him, grinning broadly. "Not long now, I promise. It's a surprise, remember?"
"I'll punch you when I get this blindfold off, I swear-" Andrew cursed as he tripped over an exposed tree root. He stumbled inelegantly, but Charles was there to catch him, helping him to his feet.
"Alright. We'll stop a moment. I need to do one last thing anyway," Charles said.
"One more thing? Like what? Where are we going? It's not one of your posh parties, is it?" Andrew said. "I hate those things. I never know anyone and they keep teasing me about my hair."
"You should get a haircut then," Charles said with smile. He took the masks carefully out of the backpack and put his on. It matched his outfit. He was going as a peacock. Andrew, however, had something else. "Promise me you won't laugh?"
"Laugh? What could I possibly have to laugh at?" Andrew said.
Charles removed the blindfold, and Andrew could finally see. He could finally see the mask Charles was wearing and the other he had in his hand. In the distance, there was a grand mansion. They appeared to be in some sort of woodland.
"It's a masque ball, alright? I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I wanted it to be a surprise. It's not a uni thing, and it's not one of those posh parties either. Different crowd altogether. I don't even know who half these people are. Oh, and don't you dare call me Charles in there. I'm the Marquis Carlos Alejandro y Catalania. Think you can remember that? We'll have to get you a name too," Charles said.
Andrew looked at him strangely. "A name? What kind of name?"
"Any sort of name. It's like role-playing. Make yourself a character. You're good at that. If you like it, we'll come back next time. We only use pseudonyms at balls. No real names. I don't even know who any of these people are. We just meet up for balls every couple of months. People get together sometimes, like, they pair up and get married before the Queen, and there's a new Queen elected every year, but no real names. I think it's also because half the women are men, and half the men are women. There's a lot of cross-dressing and genderplay here. So, y'know, address people the way they're presenting, so if they're wearing a dress, call 'em a woman. That sort of thing. Even if it's a bloke underneath. Got that?" Charles said.
Andrew thought about that. "That makes sense, I suppose. So am I supposed to be your wife or something? Or can I be someone else? I'm not exactly in a ball gown, you know."
"Be whoever you like. Peerage preferred. So many bloody Counts and Dukes and Lords in there, I tell you. You can't go as royalty though, that's preserved for those in charge. You can become royalty if you want, but it takes a long time to be accepted into the royal family," Charles said.
"Um, well, how about Duke Sandringham of Gloucester? Sound poncey enough?" Andrew said.
"Oh, you can't have Gloucester. Gloucester's taken. That's a royal title. As is Westminster, I believe, Bavaria, Northumbria, and Wales. You could have Essex, I think? Or Worcester. I don't think anyone has Worcester yet. Or maybe, oh, I think Caledonia's free as well. You could be a Scottish Lord. Um. I'll show you the chart when we get in there. It's got all the titles mapped over it so you can see who has what," Charles said as he handed over Andrew's mask.
"Someone's organised then. So, Duke Sandringham of Worcester, is it? Oh well, that'll have to do. Do I look like a Duke? I can't tell," Andrew said as he slipped the mask on.
"You look fine. Now come on, let's get going, they're about to start," Charles said, taking his hand.
Andrew found himself led into the mansion. There were people everywhere in masks and all manner of grand costumes. Andrew had never seen so many expensive-looking ball gowns before. They didn't have time to look around as they were announced before the assembled masses and escorted into the room.
There was a round of applause and Charles seemed to come to life, playing up to his role of Marquess with much enthusiasm. Andrew went along with it, embellishing his character to the point where he'd single-handedly banished a dragon, declared war on France, and saved several small children from wells.
The ball seemed to go on for hours. Andrew didn't particularly notice the time passing. He spent most of his time by Charles' side, telling everyone he was a long lost cousin or something. It might've been step-brother by the time he'd had two champaignes, and he was sure he might've told some buxom wench they were fucking twins around midnight when the room had become a blur of light and stars and darkness. Definitely too much champaigne.
If there was one highlight to the evening, and if Andrew was being honest, there had been quite a few of those, it was pulling Charles into a spectacularly drunken kiss right before they left the ballroom, to the cheers of everyone around.
Staggering out into the night, they walked back, arm in arm, happy with the world. They shared a few more kisses when no one could see them, before falling back onto the couch in the living room when they finally arrived home.
"So, my Lord, how was that delightful evening?" Charles said, throwing his mask aside.
Andrew lay his head back, smiling. "Fucking brilliant. When can we go again?"
"In a couple of months when the next ball's held. I'll let you go. If you want to think of another character in the mean time, go right ahead. It's not like anyone would notice. It was your first night. It can take a while to find a character you really like," Charles said.
"Says you, Mr Marquis. I think we were twins by the end of the evening. Was it twins? I can't remember anymore. Maybe a different character would be a good idea. Should I find a nice dress this time? Something lovely and posh just for you?" Andrew gazed at him, brushing a finger across his cheek.
Charles smiled back and held his hand gently. "I'd let you be my princess, sure. Marchioness, actually. If you wanted us to be married, of course. But you could be a Duchess or a Countess or something. I could call you my Lady and maybe take you to one of the private rooms to spend some time alone. We can do that, you know. We'd have to keep in character, and keep the masks on, but I can take you to bed. Just let me know if you want to stay overnight and I'll arrange it, okay?"
Andrew tried not to find that as funny as he did. "Oh, I do love it when you're a gentleman. Makes a change from you being a bastard."
Charles didn't look in the least bit offended and merely pulled Andrew into a drunken kiss. Andrew laughed as Charles pinned him down. He wasn't sure they would be getting to sleep for a while.
Muses: Charles Firth and Andrew Hansen
Fandom: The Chaser RPS
Word Count: 1303
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.