[Closed] Happy Birthday to Me (Charlie)

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Intas 21, 2720

A pub in King's Court, evening.

H
e felt the discomfort ripple through Charlie's field, and noticed the slight bitter edge to his voice. His joke seemed to have struck a nerve, and he regretted it immediately. He said nothing more on the subject, not acknowledging the turn he had taken, which he thought was for the best. They were having a good time, so far, and he didn't want to drive Charlie off with silly things. Charlie leaned ever closer, the distance between them now barely even a distance at all. If they moved any nearer, they would be in each other's lap.

He laughed a bit as Charlie "confessed" that he couldn't quite make being pretty a profession. "That's a shame," he interjected, "I can't imagine why, from where I'm sitting."

It was his turn to be surprised, though, when Charlie went on to say that the two of them were in the same field of work. He could feel the familiar static particles in Charlie's field, but he hadn't guessed that they were in the same line of work exactly.

"Well," he said, drawing it out a little, "what a small world."

The din in the bar was growing more and more oppressive as the hour grew later and more people were filtering in. Baz was beginning to find it hard to focus on Charlie, and their conversation, and it began to show. He didn't want his inattention to be mistaken for disinterest. He scratched his jaw, glancing out into the bar, before leaning closer again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it's a bit loud in here. Would you be interested in going somewhere a bit quieter? And maybe more… private?

[Charlie Ewing]

Intas 21, 2720 - Evening
A Pub in King's Court, the Rose

Not thick then, and interested after all. Good. Great, even. Charlie allowed himself a dramatic fluttered of his eyelashes at compliment. You know, because he was maidenly and all that. Or whatever that meant.

Small godsdamn world, indeed, actually. Too small, possibly. So small, Charlie was having difficulty imagining how he'd not met Baz before. He had deliberately resisted any kind of caprise earlier, or he might have made the guess a little sooner. Maybe not; in addition to having not much by way of a field to speak of himself, he never really had gotten very good at reading others'. Charlie resisted squinting at him, like Baz's face held some secret Charlie was just missing at the present moment. They were close enough now that it was easy; didn't even take any effort on Charlie's part. But all he found there was freckles and a pretty face, so he let it slide.

Good thing too, because it wasn't like he could have followed that up with any more questions. The later the hour, the more people who seemed to pile in. There were many reasons Charlie didn't go much for conversation at bars. One of them was how clocking impossible it became after a certain point. A new group arrived, and from the looks of them Charlie judged them to be sailors on shore leave. He couldn't have said quite why; there was just something about them that screamed "I spend most of my time at sea trapped looking at the same faces and I hate all of them".

That, and one of them shouted about the ship for a good minute and a half. It was the subtle cues, you see.

Baz was starting to lose interest--or he looked like he was, anyway. If Charlie were a more delicate ego, he couldn't have withstood such a drifting of attentions. But Charlie Ewing could be described many ways and "delicate of ego" was not on the list. Baz was tall and attractive, but it was his loss of he couldn't keep his eyes on Charlie long enough for--

Nevermind. That was absolutely more like it. Charlie pretended to be scandalized with another theatrical wave of his slender hands.

"My, what a bold proposition, Mr..." Charlie paused and quirked an eyebrow. He had pitched his voice up slightly for effect; it dropped back to a more normal register now. "Actually that joke works a lot better with a last name. You've got one of those, don't you?"

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Intas 21. 2720

A pub in King's Court, evening.

Baz was quite relieved that his — admittedly very forward — request wasn’t rebuffed. He hadn’t thought that it would be, given how clear Charlie had been as to his intentions earlier in the evening, but it was still a relief nonetheless. He chuckled as Charlie called him bold. That made two of them, he supposed. Alioe’s tits, the sailors were loud. If it hadn’t been hard for him to focus before, it certainly would be now. He was even more relieved at the prospect of going elsewhere. He realized that he indeed had neglected to properly introduce himself. Granted, all he’d gotten from Charlie was a first name as well. Not that it mattered to him, at the moment.

“I do have one of those. I have a whole full name, in fact,” he said, with a playful smile,

He did a little mock bow on his stool. “Sebastian Morgenstern, at your service.”

[Charlie Ewing]

Intas 21, 2720 - Evening
A Pub in King's Court, Old Rose Harbor

Baz had smiled and done a little mock-bow there on his barstool; cute. And then he'd opened his mouth, and Charlie's smile froze in place.

"Morgenstern, you say?" It was loud in the bar, but not that loud--Charlie needed to buy himself a minute to recover. There was no way they could be of any relation. Although Morgenstern wasn't precisely an unusual name, and now that he'd said it Charlie could see something of a resemblence. Oh, Alioe's tits, he didn't like having drawn that comparison. That was just weird, and distinctly unpleasant.

Honestly, he couldn't have said what about it gave him pause. Like, really, why did it matter? Even if Baz was, in fact, of some relation to possibly the only professor he had ever really liked at Brunnhold--wasn't that fine? Except it wasn't fine, it was weird, and Charlie definitely was not a fan of this revelation. He regretted asking, and there was zero way to have that make any sense at all without explaining himself. He was drunk, but he wasn't stupid--not entirely, anyway.

"Ewing, by the way." Charlie smiled and ignored the desperately weird feeling in his gut. He had changed his last name; there was absolutely no possible way to have those dots connected on the other side, either. He'd be damned if his clocking schoolboy days would haunt him here. He was Charlie Ewing now, damnit, not Charlton Almond. And Charlie Ewing was not about to waste this opportunity because of Charlton's delicate feelings.

"So where were you thinking we should go?" It had been Baz's suggestion, after all, so Baz's choice. Charlie took another drink of his Busy Bee and smiled.

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Intas 21, 2720

A pub in King's Court, evening.

If Baz noticed anything had changed in Charlie’s expression, it didn’t show on his own. He had no reason to think something as simple as his last name would be an issue, and most likely wasn’t looking for any kind of indication that it was. As Charlie asked for confirmation, He nodded.

“Morgenstern, yes,” he repeated. “Actually, if we’re in the same field, you might know my father. You likely would have taken his class if you went to Brunnhold..”

His father, Professor Morgenstern, the professor of intermediate engineering. He, himself, had taken his father’s class, and it was likely that most of the galdori in Anaxas with a focus in engineering that had graduated in the last 20 or more years had as well. He knew his father was generally well-regarded by his former pupils. He was a good teacher. It wasn’t unusual for Baz to meet another golly in his field of expertise who learned his name and quickly connected him to Sam Morgenstern. He thought nothing of it, usually.

Charlie’s last name did not ring any sort of bell to Baz. He’d never heard the name “Ewing” before, but that didn’t matter. At last, Charlie had agreed to leave the bar behind. Baz reached for his wallet and made an effort to wave over the bartender again, with the intention of settling their tab. Charlie asked where they would go, and Baz gave the question some brief consideration.

“I was thinking, perhaps,” he began, “back to my flat for another drink. It isn’t much of a walk, provided you don’t mind the snow. I have a bottle of rum I’ve been saving.”

The suggestion was perhaps the most forward thing either of them had said all night. Given that Charlie had all but shattered any sort of pretense earlier in the evening, it wasn’t entirely uncalled for. Never mind the fact that they were already practically sitting on top of each other. Given those points, Baz had a feeling the suggestion would go over fairly well.

[Charlie Ewing]

Intas 21, 2720 - Evening
A Pub in King's Court, the Rose

Well there went any hope Charlie had that the two were of no relation, or distant at best. That certainly made everything just a little bit weirder, didn't it? It wasn't like he couldn't, you know, want to climb his favorite former professor's son like a tree. Honestly, the two things had very little to do with each other. There was just some veneer of not-right that it laid over everything.

The back of Charlie's mind took a quick inventory of everything he had done since leaving Brunnhold and moving to the Rose. Much of it was deplorable; almost all of it you could probably apply the descriptor of "not right". So was this better or worse than a bulk of it, just with the addition of a last name? There was a delicate and important calculus to be done here.

Charlie had never actually been any good at calculus.

"You might be right, that sounds rather familiar." Charlie smiled like he wasn't lying through his teeth, playing at poor memory. He had made his decision on where his night was going, and by the Circle it was going there. Baz reached for his wallet to pay the tab, evidently satisfied with Charlie's agreement to leave. Good, because so was Charlie. Also, it sort of looked like one of the sailors might break out into song at any moment, and he really did not want to stick around to listen to that.

He wasn't used to things moving quite this smoothly when he wasn't slumming it in a dive bar with a wick or something. Which isn't to say it never happened--he was, after all, very pretty and charming. So really the weird part was that it didn't happen more. This was firmly not a displeasing turn of events.

His dilemma with Baz's parentage solved for the time being, Charlie was back to business and he smiled at the admittedly forward suggestion. He kept half an eye on the crowd; fairly human-heavy tonight. Maybe better not to be any more obvious about what he was up to than he already was. They could be kind of funny about it. And, honestly, the dark-haired galdor was just far, far too guttered to do anything about it if someone took exception to him getting handsy in public. Besides, he had a reputation to maintain.

"Oh my, something you've been saving? Does that make this a special occasion?" Charlie was all smiles and flirtatiousness. He didn't think he really had to be, precisely, but it was fun and he was enjoying himself. "Well, who am I to refuse? Lead the way, Mr. Morgenstern."

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Intas 21, 2720

A pug in King's Court, evening.

He had been right, and Charlie had accepted his invitation to move their conversation and the things that may follow back to his flat. Out before the sailors had even started singing, now that was an accomplishment. He finally managed to get the bartender’s attention and settle the tab, before sliding off his stool and beginning to do up the buttons on his overcoat. It was the first time Charlie had seen him at his full height, and he certainly was tall. His head was still buzzing warmly from the beers, and overall, it had been a nice night so far. Charlie was an unexpected twist, but certainly not an unwelcome one.

“Well, it is still my birthday for at least another few hours, I think,” he said with a grin.

He gestured towards the door. “After you, Mr. Ewing.”

Once they were out on the snowy street, Baz took a moment to appreciate the much quieter environment. He never had done well with so many distractions all around. Even in school. It was a relief to find the street was much quieter, the snow muffling some of the noise from the carriages and cabs. It was a cold night. Despite being the middle of the first month of spring, it was still firmly winter, with soft flakes of snow pouring down from above. Baz had always liked the snow. It made him think of sledding with his sisters when they were small. He looked up towards the sky for a moment, a small smile crossing his lips. A fat flake of snow landed squarely on his nose, and he reached up and brushed it away, chuckling lightly.

He looked to Charlie with a warm smile. “Shall we, then? It’s just a couple streets this way,” he said, indicating which way he meant before tucking his freckled hands in his pockets against the chill.

[Charlie Ewing]

Intas 21, 2720 - Evening
En Route to Baz's, ORH

Baz stood and Charlie looked up. Then looked up some more, because Alioe's tits he was tall for a golly, wasn't he? Not, again, that Charlie was complaining in any way. He slid off the stool and was proud that he wobbled only a little. The cold would probably sober him up quick enough.

"Why aren't you a gentleman!" Charlie laughed, but he meant it. If it was a compliment or a curse was less clear. Compliment, probably. He couldn't find it much in him to make a curse out of it. Booze made him warm and swaying, Baz was cute if unfortunately related to an old professor who would very hopefully never hear a word about this, and everything was just going exactly his way.

Honestly, it was going so well he was starting to get a little paranoid.

The snow had barely started to come down when Charlie had first arrived at the pub. It coated the ground now and made everything seem quiet and pristine. A sparkling blanket of white--horrible. Honestly, Charlie hated snow. Got in your boots, stuck to your clothes, got you soaking wet and cold even after you'd already made it inside. What was there to like about it? Charlie tucked his coat around his side and shivered. Clocking snow. Garbage.

He looked up and Baz was smiling at the snow like some kind of puppy. A snowflake landed rather picturesquely on his nose. Okay, maybe there was a little bit of a benefit to snow. For other people, non-Charlie people. Charlie still didn't want to be anywhere near it if he could help it.

"Uh, yeah. Lead on." Damn. Charlie didn't make a point of getting caught up in looking at people, really, at least not before things got a little further along. But it was Baz's birthday--and what better gift than Charlie's attention? Charlie followed along, nobly resist the urge to complain about the weather. And he only stumbled a little, another landmark achievement.

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Intas 21, 2720

Baz's flat, late evening.

Baz’s smile trended more towards a smirk as he caught Charlie staring at him. It was nice to know that he hadn’t been the only one staring all night. He didn’t mention anything, and started walking towards home. He managed to keep a fairly straight path, being a fair bit more sober than Charlie likely was.

True to his word, it was a short jaunt to his flat. He produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, gesturing for Charlie to head inside first. Nestled in a little building with several other units, it was small, but had enough room for himself and whatever number of projects he was working on at any given time. The room was dark, of course, as he’d been out since that morning. The light from the hallway outside illuminated a bed in one corner and a cluttered workbench in another.

“I hope this isn’t too odd,” Baz said, a bit sheepishly, “I mean, it is odd, at least for me. I don’t... usually invite people I've just met over for drinks, but I’ve been enjoying your company so far. Hold on a moment, I’ll get the lamp.”

He brushed past Charlie, moving to where the bed was. There was a noise as he lifted the shade on a phosphor lamp that sat on the bedside table. The brighter light offered a clearer look at his modest abode. It was very clearly furnished for a bachelor. Along with the bed and the workbench, there was a wood stove with a well-worn old sofa and table not far from it. A bookcase was pushed against one wall, covered as much in knickknacks as it was in books, next to a wardrobe. One wall was adorned with a few sketches of birds above a washbasin. They were amateurish, but labeled in clear hand. Organized chaos was a good descriptor of the state of most of the place. The floor was, at least, clear of mess, and there were no clothes scattered around. He did clean where it counted. It was chilly with the stove off, but otherwise cozy.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered, making his way back over and closing the door. “I’ll find the rum and then get a fire going.”

[Charlie Ewing]

Intas 21, 2720 - Late Evening
Baz's Flat, Old Rose Harbor

The walk to Baz's flat was mercifully short. Just as promised. This was good, because of the whole issue of snow, and the additional issue of snow over ice which made Charlie walking around in his inebriated state somewhat hazardous to his own health.

Other hazards presented themselves when they got there, unfortunately. Charlie had thought the sharp bite of the cold had sobered him up a fair amount, but he realized the depths of his mistake when it turned out that Baz did not actually live on the ground floor. Neither, it had to be said, did Charlie--but he was far more used to stumbling up the steps to his own front door than these new and different ones. The coordination to actually make it to the top was a bit much to manage. There was no small amount of triumph when he got to the top intact. Take that, stairs! Not godsdamn poxy stairs would stand in his way.

He still put an awful lot of his weight on the wall while Baz got out his keys and unlocked the door. Of course Baz wanted him to go inside first, so he did. The light from the hallway illuminated at least a little bit of what was inside, and he had always thought he had rather excellent night vision. All Charlie could really see was a bed and what may or may not have been a workbench. The similarities to his own flat were actually sort of spooky.

Charlie felt almost--and only almost--embarrassed when Baz confessed this was out of his usual. That was... Well, normal, Charlie felt, but it made him feel a little... He wasn't sure what. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. Accordingly, he decided to ignore it. Goodbye feeling, we will not be examining you this evening! This was absolutely not the time.

"Not odd for me at all," he said cheerfully instead. The cheer might have been just a little forced; Charlie liked to think he was good at faking that sort of thing though. At the very least, Baz didn't know him from a hole in the ground and was unlikely to pick up on it. "You haven't been so unpleasant yourself." Charlie smiled after he said that last bit, you know, to make it seem more like how he intended it. Though how visible it was in the dark was a different issue.

Baz had told him to hold on, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. It wasn't like he was going to go stumbling around in someone else's home in the dark. It didn't take him long to light the phosphor lamp at his bedside anyway. Cool light bathed the room, and Charlie took a curious look around. Not, again, too dissimilar from his own home. Except that it felt a lot cleaner than his. A little chaotic, but there was no mess on the floor or anything. Charlie reflected that it was probably best they'd gone here and not to his place. He had been sleeping on his couch for the last three weeks because he needed to clean his bed linens, and somehow that had also become the place to put his other items that needed washing. He really needed to get someone to come take them for him. Tomorrow. He would inquire about that tomorrow.

This was the part of this whole social transaction Charlie liked the least, honestly. It was awkward standing around in someone else's home while you were supposed to "get comfortable". This was a lot of the appeal in the simplicity of a less civilized encounter, so to speak--the lack of this weird standing around bit was one of them. Charlie drifted over to the sketches of birds. Not very good; Baz must have done them himself.

"Are you interested in birds?" Charlie asked. "I have a whice at home--Tippy." A grimace crossed his face, though he was still facing the wall so it was hidden from view. Why had he brought up Tippy? Ugh. It was that good-natured puppy-esque quality Baz seemed to have. Charlie was fairly certain it was contagious, and he did not like it one bit.