Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
The Eloise was Will’s pride and joy. Where once a hotbed of sin had stood empty and rotting, luxury French Quarter living had rose. Keeping enough old patina to give it character, Will had personally oversaw the renovation, taking care not to disturb the delicate ecosystem of homes and buildings that surrounded it. It was a delicate balance and a hard job, but the pride at seeing it open had been all worth it. He had loved it so much that he reserved the penthouse for himself.
It was this penthouse that was now absolutely decked in Thanksgiving and fall regalia. He had hired a few decorators just for the job, and it had been more than worth it. His sense of décor was scattered at best, so it was nice to have another touch to pull it all together. The buntings, the garlands, even the cutesy banners; they certainly would not have been his first choice but even he had to admit they were pretty cute. He would have to get the company to finish his house up for Christmas, even if he would only be home a handful of days for the holiday.
His grand, solid oak table was set for five, but if need be, he could fit more. He always had room for more. The guest list would be a bit of surprise for everyone but Monday, who needed the number to cook for. He hadn’t told his sister he invited her friends; it would be a nice surprise for her. He couldn’t imagine having her just trapped between him and Monday the entire day. Besides, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in meeting the two twins, if just to learn more about Evan’s professional life.
Music thrummed in the apartment, set to some old country station. He sang along to “The Gambler,” dancing about in his socks as he made the final preparations before could start arriving. Mostly, it was just spot-cleaning and making sure the apartment didn’t immediately look like a place where a confirmed bachelor lived (and occasionally partied). His attention snapped when he heard the buzz to his apartment. Sliding in his socks towards the panel, he buzzed whoever was there in.
“Welcome to le chateau de Charbonneau,” he called with a grand flourish and bow.
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Nov 26, 2018 0:59:21 GMT
Thanksgiving, it was a holiday held near and dear to Monday's heart. While he adored the cheer of Christmas and the jubilations of Mardi Gras it was Thanksgiving that occupied the top of his list. Perhaps it was the food. That would have been the simplest answer for him to arrive at. The hours spent slaving over a stove, the chaotic rush to the grocery store when an ingredient was inevitably forgotten, the delicate balancing act of running several ovens at once. Oh, it was like a dream come true to the blue-eyed behemoth. If he probed further it was probably the memories associated with the holiday.
Time spent sitting on the countertop while mémé busied herself and allowed him to sample the pies or the cranberries. Listening to his father's booming voice as he said grace over the lovingly crafted meal. Simply being surrounded by those he loved and cherished at a table filled with laughter. He had not made any new memories like that in almost a decade. He was given another opportunity when Will had offered to host him. Monday had worked well into the night and awoken at four in the morning to ensure that he had crafted a glorious feast for his friends and their guest.
Loading up all of the food into the trunk of his rusty '96 Blazer had proved a challenge. Getting the food out and up to the penthouse of the Eloise had been nearly impossible. Pride prevented Monday from calling Will for help. Mémé must have been with him on that endeavor because he'd managed to get the food to its desired location without so much as a single hitch. Several residents of the lavish building gawked as Monday awkwardly manhandled an oversized roaster and serving cart. He shot them dissuading looks with his reptilian eyes as he made his way to the pinnacle of the Eloise and into the den of Guillaume Charbonneau.
As soon as the door opened Monday was on the attack.
"Here, take this," Monday's baritone voice rang out as he unceremoniously deposited a rather warm roaster in Will's hands. Even with its lid seated securely the aromatic smell of herbs and cooked meat wafted from the iron container. Before Guilliame had any time to protest the slightly larger man vanished for only a split second. When he showed himself once more he brusquely pushed his way past his friend toting a silver cart that threatened to collapse under the weight of the dishware occupying it. He kicked off his leather shoes and brushed them aside of the doorway as he invaded Will's home.
"I hope that I've made enough for all of your guest." Monday fretted aloud, wheeling his dining cart from the door towards the kitchen. "I tend to make a beaucoup food but I'm unfamiliar with the guest list." The Cajun lilt in his voice became more pronounced as he busied himself. "There should be enough." he reasserted more to himself than the actual host of the dinner. Predatory eyes looked over the cart, inventorying the foodstuffs, before letting loose a sigh. Monday turned around and looked at his friend, suddenly remembering his manners. "Joyeux Thanksgiving, Will," Monday announced, exiting the kitchen.
Monday still seemed to adhere to the strict dress code of his family's Thanksgiving. Where most days he visited Will in a hoody and jeans the crocodile had decided to up his game. Khaki pants clung to his thick legs and a form-fitting green sweater tried and failed to hide most of his bulk. The collar of a white dress shirt peeked out from his neckline and his hair was freshly shaven. It was a far cry from his usual, disheveled appearance. Though, the argyle socks that adorned his large feet were rather questionable.
Monday had never been known for his fashion sense.
Words: ~600 Tags: Guillaume H. Charbonneau Notes: #brOTP #Swole bros #This is gonna be fuckin' awkward
Evan stopped by her favorite bakery and picked up the pumpkin pie order that she had placed the week before. While she was waiting in line, she for some reason checked her phone for the tenth time since she woke up. No text from Adam, but she knew that. She shoved her phone back into her purse and tried to push the negative thoughts about Adam out of her head. They got pretty hot and heavy in their office, and then when they were going to go further, he ran off. Evan had been raised a spoiled brat, so being denied anything was a rather uncomfortable feeling for her.
She was used to getting what she wanted, not just because of her parents, but because of how hard she worked for things. Everything had been going great. She knew that he wanted to be with her, she could hear it screaming in her head. Then, it was nothing. He was suddenly repulsed or something. He wanted to run from her and left her literally naked and alone. The humiliation of gathering her clothes, leaving the office, and going back home with the shadows of his fingerprints all over her body, it was not something she was going to allow to happen again.
When it was her turn at the front of the line, Evan paid for her pumpkin pie and thanked the cashier. She just wanted to get through this family dinner and go back to drowning her sorrows in whisky and Christmas rom-coms. Her guiltiest of all the pleasures, and the best way she's ever been able to cope with these uncomfortable feelings. She walked to the Eloise and made her way to the top floor. She heard some voices in the penthouse, so she let herself in. "Will? G are you here?"
Carefully she unzipped her boots and left them by the door, spotting shoes that she didn't recognize as her brothers. She made her way into the kitchen and spotted Monday working frantically in the kitchen, "Will better be paying you as well as Prim does for a feast like this." She said, feeling guilty about the pie in her hand. If she had known that Monday was going to be there, she would have saved her money. Chances were whatever he made was much better than what she brought to the dinner.
She set the pie down and went searching for her older brother. "Happy Thanksgiving." She said, spotting the living sunshine that was her brother.
Adam wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was doing at Guillaume Charbonneau’s estate. He knew that his twin – Daphne – had received an invitation for the both of them to join Will for Thanksgiving, and of course Daphne had accepted for the both of them without conferring with Adam first. He couldn’t completely blame her, their parents were out of town this Thanksgiving, and they hadn’t had any plans without them. Even still, Adam was looking forward to sitting on his couch, clothed in only his socks and boxers, drinking a beer and watching football. He was still reeling from the embarrassing night he and one of his employees shared, and wasn’t quite up for seeing people again just yet. But of course, Daphne had other ideas, and so, here he was. Alone on some stranger’s doorstep, holding a case of imported beer (nothing says Thanksgiving like Mexican beer), and a sweet potato pie. Taking a deep breath, Adam rang the doorbell. He hoped Daphne was already here.
He received the buzz, letting him know the door was unlocked and he could come on inside. Upon the entryway of the penthouse, Adam noticed shoes stacked in the doorway. Not wanting to impose, he slid off his shoes as well, revealing a pair of mismatched socks – one black with little eggs and bacon on them, and one plain grey.
Upon entering the Eloise Adam saw a large man with blonde hair. “Hey, Will, right?” Adam asked with a polite smile. He shifted the pie over to his beer hand so that he could stick it out and shake the large man’s hand. “Thanks for inviting me and Daph, we really appreciate it. I brought beer and pie – wasn’t really sure what the situation called for. Oh, and also, I think Daph’s running a bit behind? She’s chronically late.” Adam gave a slight chuckle. He finally slowed down enough to smell something heavenly coming from the kitchen. With a smile, Adam held up the pie and beer again – a silent ‘thanks again, lemme go put this food away,’ and made his way towards the heavenly smell. “Hey, smells great in here, do you need any—“ Adam stopped and nearly dropped the pie when he recognized long blonde locks and luscious red lips in the kitchen. “Evangeline.” Oh no. Oh no, no, no. That’s why Charbonneau sounded familiar. Will must’ve been related to Evan somehow. Adam stood, frozen in place, their previous week’s escapades playing on repeat in his brain. This was not going to be an enjoyable Thanksgiving.
Will had absolutely zero time to react before a very hot pan was shoved at him. Thankfully, he had mind enough to grab it by the handles and spare his palms and fingers, but he was looking for a place to set it down rather quickly. “Yes, sir,” he murmured as he settled on dropping the roaster on a nearby buffet table. He barely got out of the way before Monday was pushing a heavily laden cart through the door, one whose wheels looked like they would pop off under the weight.
“Well, we’re not feeding an army, so I think we might just have enough,” he replied with a laugh, shaking his head. That was one of the best things about Monday; he always went above and beyond. Well, that and the man could just plan cook. “It’s just Evan and two of her work friends. You’re not feeding a pack or a bask,” he reminded him. Or a bunch of privileged brats, he mused, but considering he knew very little of the Butlers, he could not make much of that judgement yet. He followed Monday into the kitchen, picking the discarded pan up once more. He set it down among the banquet Monday had prepared. “And a very happy Thanksgiving to you, Monday.” He could hardly wait for his guests to arrive; he wanted to dig in already.
He did not have to wait very long. Evan’s voice floated from the entryway, and he grinned. His little sister had actually managed to join them. “Come on in, E!” Turning down the old music, he helped locate the last of the dishes they would need for the dinner. There was quite clearly five of everything, and considering the fact that Evan probably knew their middle brother was not going to be able to make it, the surprise would already be afoot. He grinned, more to himself than anyone else.
“Monday gets paid handsomely. Just look at those socks; you can’t afford those on a beggar’s salary,” he teased, motioning down to the argyle socks his friend wore. They were quite the statement, and Guillaume couldn’t hold back his snickering. He covered it by taking the pie out of Evan’s hand and adding it to the spread. They’d all have leftovers for days; it would be glorious. He pulled his sister into a bear-like hug. “Happy Thanksgiving, kid.”
His door buzzed once more, and the grin across his face was absolutely spastic. “Ah, our final guests are arriving.” He was almost surprised; it had been a long shot inviting the twins Evan had talked about. Wiggling his brows at Evan, he slid toward the door to welcome his guest. It must have been Adam, since he certainly didn’t look like a Daphne. “Welcome! I’m glad you were able to make it!” He clamped the other’s hand in a secure, fast handshake before letting him fully into the apartment. “Sisters, you know, they’re always late,” he said with a laugh, waving him into the kitchen.
“No, I think we’re pretty good on everything. Monday, here, has it all covered.” He waved his hand at the man of the moment. The other man seemed to stop dead in his tracks, and Will, a little confused, raised his brow. Adam had not been expecting Evan, it seemed. “You already know Evan, of course. She was the one who told me about you and Daphne.” He shrugged the reaction off and grabbed some glasses, offering one to Monday. “Adam brought some interesting looking beer, and there are more options at the bar. Everyone can help themselves.”
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Dec 5, 2018 22:58:16 GMT
Monday made a dismissive wave as he began commandeering Will's kitchen as well as all of its accouterments. He flitted about placing platers and containers on the countertop and igniting the oven. He had hardly noticed the door open or Will buzzing someone in. It was the scent of Evangeline Charbonneau that alerted the shifter to her presence. Stolen towel in hand, Monday turned and faced his best friend's younger sister, flashing pearly white teeth. "Evangeline," he spoke, his cheer creeping into his voice. "A pleasure as always, ma cher." Monday had sparsely spent any time with Evangeline and what little he did he was often accompanying Will. Still, he was rather fond of her. Especially how she always seemed to get a few good jibes in at Will. His smile faltered for only a moment as he saw the plastic container containing, what most would call, a pie.
There was nothing wrong with store bought pastries. There wasn't anything right with them either. They lacked the emotion of true baked goods. Parcels of dough and affection painstakingly crafted with a particular recipient in mind, small tweaks made to satiate their peculiarities. To his credit, Monday didn't drop a beat as she delivered a playful barb toward Will. "Oh yes," he rolled his reptilian eyes, "Monsieur Charbonneau has rewarded me quite handsomely." Monday performed a flourish, pointing his monstrous foot rather daintily, standing upon the tips of his toes. He let out a chest-rumbling chuckle as he resumed a more dignified stance and tossed the towel over his shoulder. "Another one of his catering jobs and I'll be able to buy a whole other pair." The jokes and laughter that filled the room set the man at ease and his worries about the quality of his food and quantity were quickly forgotten. Another buzz pierced the laughs and Will was off to greet another guest.
A man with the orangest mop of hair Monday had ever seen entered the kitchen with Will. He was completely unknown to the croc but he assumed him to be Adam. In an instant, the man went from being merely shy to looking like prey caught in a predator's sights. Monday could not recall any of his prior kills showing as much shock as the newcomer. "Non, don't you worry. I've got everything covered. Just enjoy the company tonight." Monday said, donning another disarming smile as he took the preferred glass from Will. He followed Adam's gaze toward Evan and arched a quizzical brow toward her. There was a story here and judging from the look it had quite an ending. Monday wondered if Will had picked up on it. He almost felt bad for the boy but the pie clutched in his hand made it hard for him to be sympathetic. He'd been rooting for gravity when it almost fell out of his hands.
"My name is Gideon but please call me Monday, everyone does." With little tact, the man chose to partake of the Mexican beer the guest had brought. "So," Monday began, popping the top single-handedly he poured the drought into his cup. "How does everyone know each other, hm? Our host hasn't filled me in on the specifics, work friends?" Monday didn't need animal instinct to tell him that there was something brewing on the horizion. Whatever it was he prayed that it would not disrupt his Thanksgiving. Tags:Guillaume H. Charbonneau Evangeline Charbonneau @adam @daphne Words: What those Notes: Oh this bout to be good
Evan spotted the look on Monday's face when she walked in with the pie and knew that his fancy pallet was too good for a store bought pie. Evan enjoyed baking at times, but she often got distracted with an idea for an article or reading something on her phone. More recently the eVolvd app was taking up a fair amount of her time and attention. Evan gave Monday a hug when he greeted her and leaned into his chest. She was going to make a joke about seeing his photos on the app, but she decided against it when her brother started making comments about his fancy socks. "Rocking the argyle, it's a good look for you." She teased and set her pie on the counter top.
The blonde woman rolled her eyes playfully at the playful banter between the two men. She was happy that her brother had such a close friend. She needed more of that. More friends in her life, or just people around who cared about her. She had plans to host Thanksgiving in her new apartment. She had thought about inviting over Daphne, Adam, Noah, other friends, but after what happened with Adam she couldn't bring herself to face him. She laughed at Gideon's insistence that soon he would be able to afford another pair of socks, "You're going to have to march into those pretty Primrose offices and start demanding a better pay if it takes this one to keep you in fine footwear." She teased, hearing the door open again. Who could that be? She stood with Monday, hoping that she would be able to help with something or see if he knew who else was coming to the dinner. Maybe her other brother? Assuming that butt managed to actually show up for something on time for once in his life.
When Will returned, Evan peeked at the hot roaster and was going to try to steal a piece of stuffing or even some crispy turkey skin. Until her stomach sank to her knees and she thought that she was going to fall over. She leaned against the counter and looked over at Adam, trying to block whatever thoughts he was having. She didn't want to open herself to more hurt from the ginger. His disgust at her, or his remorse for what they did. She didn't care. "Adam, what are you doing here?" She asked with a smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes.
Evan was going to kick Monday the second that she was alone with him. She was also going to kill her brother for this. "Adam is my boss at the In the NOLA. He's always riding my ass, you know how bosses are." She said, remembering all of the very specific fantasies that Adam would bombard her with constantly.
Adam smiled to the older Charbonneau politely. If he learned anything at Primrose, it was how to play cordial. He was pretty damn good at it, but that never stopped his rampant thoughts. Currently, those thoughts were cursing out Daphne for leaving him alone on Thanksgiving at a stranger’s house. With Evan no less. Of course, Daphne didn’t know about their previous escapades or the delicious thoughts he’d had about the woman. Still! It was the principle of the idea. He put on a nervous smile and finally greeted both Monday and Evan.
“Nice to see you, Evan, and nice to meet you, Monday. Everything smells great.” He quickly claimed a glass for himself and poured up a beer. Hopefully the 7.5% alcohol would be enough to ease his nerves for the evening. Realizing he was alone, in a room, with the woman he gracelessly ditched, and her older huge brother and his equally as intimidating friend, Adam began to be very concerned. From the sheer fact of him not being dead yet, he assumed Monday and Will didn’t know of their past. He hoped to keep it that way for the time being. Or forever. Forever would be nice.
“Uh, you’re brother invited me and Daph.” Adam answered Evan’s question, trying his best to keep the nerves out of his voice. The beer in his hands had never looked so good. As he took a large sip, he hoped this dinner would go by quickly and painlessly. He was not expecting it, but he could certainly hope. At Evan’s response to Monday’s question Adam nearly choked on his liquid savior. Riding her ass? Oh, God, this wasn’t going to end well. “I try my best to look out for you. Whether or not it’s something that we want to do, doesn’t particularly matter in this case.” He was hoping, praying Evan was listening to what he was trying to say. “So how did the name Monday come about?” The ginger asked pleasantly, turning the conversation away from Evan and himself. Remember, he told himself, you can play cordial. Just keep it cool and indirect, and you’ll be out in no time.
Will grinned at the sight of Monday and Evan in the same kitchen. They were two huge parts of his life, and it always gave him a weird sense of accomplishment to see them in the same room, getting along so well. But not too well, of course. Will had more than enough faith in Monday, or he would never let the man too close to his kid sister. Well, young woman sister, as she would insist. Either way, the three of them had a nice balance with each other. Monday sometimes felt like the brother he never had, even though he already had one.
Will clamped a hand on Monday’s shoulder as he showed off the socks on his mighty feet. He gestured down at them like a hawker sharing his wares. “You know, truly, we need to go sock-shopping together. Get a few matching pairs,” he laughed and shook his friend’s shoulder before heading toward the food that Monday already put out. He picked up a stray piece of stuffing from the rim of the pan and popped it into his mouth, grinning. “With all that fresh Primrose dough, you think he would able to afford an entire argyle suit.” His eyes lit up, as a thought struck him. “We should find someone to make you a suit for your croc-self. Just imagine it!”
He kept the image in his head as he showed Adam in and about, which distracted him from the immediate awkwardness he had let into his home. He barely noticed when everyone seemed to be in on a joke that he was lost at. He dropped Adam’s beer off at the refreshment table and took up a glass of his own, filling it with a little bit of red wine. He grinned over at the red-head, noticing for the first time he looked a little put out. Will shrugged it off; perhaps it was just the absence of his own sister that made him a bit uncomfortable. Those newspaper types, he inwardly scoffed.
“Yes, I wanted to talk to our new friend about these deadlines. You can’t overwork my sister like that.” He tried to make his voice a bit more stern, but he failed, lapsing quickly into another chuckle. He wanted to ease the tension that he could pick up. To do so, he patted a hand on Adam’s back, trying his best to not knock the smaller man off his feet. He had always been a physical person, but he meant well. For now. “That is a really good question for our friend Monday.”
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Dec 12, 2018 23:30:46 GMT
He returned the warm hug, squeezing the woman to his chest affectionately. He was well aware of Will's overbearing nature when it came to his sister. Truth be told, when he as first introduced to Evan he was a bit smitten. She was a gorgeous woman paraded in front of him when he was in a vulnerable spot in his life and feeling most alone. Time along with Will's constant portrayal of her as a kid sister dulled those feelings. Still, she was a woman who could make him laugh and her presence at the party served to bolster Monday's confidence.
"Christmas is coming around the corner. I wouldn't say no if I unwrapped such an enchanting present. Remember, I wear a size triple XL in crocodile." Monday called out after Will as he left him and Evan alone in the room. He kept a watchful eye on the woman, failing to stop Will from scavenging from the Thanksgiving feast. While the two were certainly a contrasting pair they were both Charbonneaus. Monday wore the barest of smiles on his features as he continued to remove his trays and conquer the unclaimed counter space of Will's kitchen.
Adam's appearance had killed the upbeat, familial mood that the trio had begun to cultivate. The awkwardness was nearly palpable as Adam and Evan conversed. Perhaps he was just adept at picking up the subtle messages passing through the air. A lifetime of keeping his head low and passively watching had made him quite adept at reading body language. Right now, Evan wasn't particularly happy and Adam didn't seem as confident as a man of his means and bearing should have. Monday did his best to keep a straight face and exchanged a few glances with Will. Everything okay? Monday thought loudly or he thought he thought loudly. His expressive lips tilted downward as he looked away from the eldest Charbonneau Evangeline. He sipped politely at the imported beer while the two explained their circumstances. "Ah," Monday said awkwardly searching for something else to add to the conversation.
"It's a nickname from childhood." Monday began, "My grandmother has a fascination with old vodun folklore. She took my nickname from one of them. I won't bore you with the details but the protagonist was named Uncle Monday and was known for his prodigious size. I was pretty large, even as a child, and Meme thought it was cute. So I became Monday." Monday neglected to mention that the figure was, mythologically, the largest crocodile in the Florida Everglades or that he was possibly the largest crocodile in the Louisiana Bayou. That was unnecessary information that might only serve to set the man further on edge. Going off the current atmosphere he would need to do his best to steer the conversation towards more amicable waters. Despite the man's pastry fauxpas Monday was beginning to feel for the awkward newcomer. "We don't want to talk about me though. I'm old news. Will and Evan know all about me. What about you? What's it like working with our girl here? Bet she's a massive pain in the ass." Monday affectionly bumped into Evangeline. Tags: Guillaume H. Charbonneau Evangeline Charbonneau @adam
Her history with Monday was one that they swore each other to secrecy over. They had a late night together, they had been drinking a little, talking a lot. Monday was the first man she had slept with and the next morning they promised to never let Will find out what they had done. Monday and Will were friends, and they fell into such a comfortable friendship with each other afterwards that it was just good to be his friend. She was sure that Will treating her like a child helped things, but if she was being honest, she still sometimes thought about the shifter in that sort of way.
Evan laughed into her drink when Monday called after Will about the Christmas presents. "That would be quite a sight." Monday could turn into probably the largest gator she had ever seen in her life, and it matched the large stature of the chef. Evan laughed when Will started to pick at the food and knew that her brother was always working out and moving around, so she wasn't surprised that his appetite followed.
Evan tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, trying to figure out exactly what was happening with her luck that she ended up in a room with the first man she fucked, the one who refused to, and her older brother. If she didn't know any better, she would assume that Will had something to do with it, but there was no probability about this. She just made really bad decisions about a lot of things. Hell, if Jae walked in dressed as a sexy Pilgrim, she would honestly not be surprised. That was just her luck, and she didn't need her brother's help for it. She rose an eyebrow when Adam made his comment about not doing things that maybe he would have wanted to. She shrugged, she didn't need another man in her life who couldn't do things for her. She had her father for that. She didn't need someone who would leave her his, dry, and craving more. Adam just didn't seem to have what it took to break some rules for her. "Excuses, excuses, Adam. We both know there's a lot of papers around offering stuff a lot more hard hitting that I might be interested in."
She grinned when Monday explained where the name came from and poured herself a glass of wine. She was going to need it. She had a comment about how there was no way his grandmother would know just how big he would turn out to be, but took a sip of her wine instead. She rolled her eyes when Monday nudged her shoulder and returned the favor. "Oh I am not a pain in the ass." She looked between Monday and Adam, he knew what she was like at work, "Sometimes the interns are stupid and I have to instill a little fear in their hearts. I do it out of love." For her writing and for the newspaper, but that was really it.
Adam had never felt more isolated in his life, standing in this room surrounded by these all-but strangers. He was already plotting Mal’s murder in his mind – how could she agree to show up to Thanksgiving for the both of them and then not show? The ginger was already cycling through excuses he might be able to use to get out of this meet up – everyone here was so close with each other, that much was obvious, and then here comes awkward Adam, ruining Thanksgiving. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes.
Panic set in as Will talked about overworking his sister. This was it. He was going to die. Adam didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until the older man laughed and clapped Adam on the back. He did his best not to stumble, but it was still quite a blow. Damn giants. He let out an unsteady laugh, trying not to draw attention to himself; his brain was still reeling from the encounter. To get through the evening he would need a lot more beer. Taking it upon himself to lose his nerves in alcohol, Adam quickly drained his glass and opened another bottle. If he did something stupid, at least he wouldn’t regret it until the hangover. “Overwork is such a strong word.” Adam gave a charming lopsided grin. He could do this. He could survive an awkward Thanksgiving. He’s done this countless times before, the only thing different about this one is that he’d seen one of the guests naked. No big deal. Totally survivable. “Honestly though, Evan is one of our best writers at the paper. We might have to sweeten the pot to keep her around. Can’t have any other hard-hitting papers coming in and stealing her away from us.”
Monday’s tale did enrapture Adam, as short as it was. He quite enjoyed the distraction; he hoped it would’ve lasted longer. Alas, the large man quickly turned the conversation back to Adam, much to his chagrin. “Your grandmother sounds like an interesting woman. I can easily see how she got to that nickname.” A small comment on Monday’s highly imposing figure.
“Ah, well, there’s not much to talk about me either. And Evan,” His eyes darted over to the blonde haired beauty. He was internally screaming with regret over leaving her at that desk, “Like I said. She’s one of our best writers. Lots of late nights. Don’t know if you’ve seen her without coffee, though, I’m pretty sure she’s mentally scarred some interns for life.” Another charming smile and a sip of beer. He could do this. He could get through this.
Post by Mallory Nadine Butler on Dec 18, 2018 4:15:19 GMT
Mal sighed heavily as she shut her computer, before pushing away from her desk, walking into the kitchen, and deposited her empty coffee cup into the sink. She’d wash it later, lord knew that she didn’t have the time to do it now. Glancing up at the clock in her kitchen, she felt sick to her stomach; she was so late, Adam was absolutely going to murder her by the time she showed up. You see, that morning as she had been getting ready to go, she had gotten a notification about an email related to work. Normally, she would have probably ignored it on a holiday when she had significant plans, but considering the all caps subject line and the threat of imminent legal action by the sender, she figured that it was something she should look over right away. That was how the frantic email exchange had begun, win which Mal tried her best to remain calm and talk him down from misguided outrage. Eventually, she had managed to do just that, though it had made her much later than she cared to be. At this point, it wasn’t even fashionably late, it was just poor taste.
Mal crossed to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of red wine that she’d had chilling since the night before. She’d gone out and bought it for this occasion, but she had a feeling that with how late she was it was going to be more of a peace offering to keep her best friend, her twin brother, and Will from tossing her out into the cold. A quick once over in the mirror—to make sure that her hair and makeup weren’t a total mess, and that the black, long sleeved dress and the lined tights still looked good—was all that she needed before she headed out of her front door, phone and keys in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other. The fact that she could potentially look like the world’s most functioning alcoholic was something that had crossed her mind just long enough for her to decide that she didn’t actually care, and she made sure to give every single person that she saw looking at her on her way to her car a bright smile and a “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Thankfully, Mal didn’t live far from The Eloise, and though the combination of the bitter cold and her already stressful morning had set her on edge, she had a spring in her step at the prospect of spending some time with two of her favorite people. And, of course, Evan’s brother Will, who was definitely high on her list of people she enjoyed, though she didn’t feel that she knew him as well as she probably could. It was her first Thanksgiving without her parents—because evidently not even a holiday stop the campaign trail—but at least she was surrounded by people that she cared about. As the elevator carried her closer to the top floor, Mal shifted around the objects in her hands to pull out her phone and shoot off a quick text to her brother: “in elevator now, please don’t kill me”.
She waited patiently for the buzz to let her into the apartment, carefully opening the door once she received it and poking her head around the door before stepping fully inside. Noting the shoes beside the door, including boots that looked remarkably like Evan’s and shoes that she swore she had seen on her brother before, she slipped out of her ankle boots and set them in line with the others, before making her way towards the smell of delicious food and the sound of conversation. “Hi! I’m so sorry I’m super late.” She stepped into the room, glancing at the set up and the familiar faces, and the one face that was not at all familiar. “It just wouldn’t be a holiday without something going wrong, right?” A nervous laugh slid from her lips, and she reached up, running a hand through her hair. She turned to each person in the room in turn, of course starting with their gracious host. “Thanks so much for inviting us. Evan, darling, you look amazing. Adam… you need to learn how to match your socks. Oh, I don’t think I know you!” She smiled brightly at Monday. “I’m Mallory. Great socks, by the way.” She shot a look directly at her brother, and glanced down pointedly at the mismatched pair on his feet.
Will was already making a mental note to contact his tailor about a crocodile pajama suit in argyle. His tailor had gotten stranger requests, he was sure. Even if it was just a gag, he had spent money on worse. It would be worth it just to see Monday’s face when he opened it. He grinned, waving the man off as he took Adam under his wing. The glances that Monday sent his way were pointed, to be sure, but Will was determined to not read too much into anything. He was content to think Evan was just mad he invited her people without asking her first. He had meant it for a fun surprise, nothing more; nothing that would happen after would be directly his fault.
“Tell that to Evan; she’s been going on and on about her late nights at the office lately.” He rolled his eyes at the two of them, gesturing liberally with the glass in his hand. He sipped just as freely from it, determined to have a good night. “Evan loves the work she does, it seems. Goodness knows she doesn’t shut up about it, so you should be able to retain her. Maybe a raise would be in order.”
He listened to Monday’s tale and unceremoniously drained nearly a quarter of his wine. He had heard it quite a few times, but he always enjoyed hearing about Monday and his family. His friend was all sorts of interesting and always pushing Will’s mind open further with tales of the deep bayous. Monday was one of a handful of men who could be in Will’s weight class (as a human of course), but the man was a kind and gentle soul that Will could never imagine doing a single person any harm. At least as a human. He raised a glass to his friend’s story. “I told him that we should call me Wednesday Will, but it never caught on.”
Will’s brow quirked as his face split into a grin when Adam lavish on Evan’s writing skills. “Without coffee? You should have seen her before she was allowed to even drink coffee. I’m pretty sure our other brother misses chunks of his life from the blunt force trauma. You’re lucky you’ve never had to fight her off.” He merely shook his head and sipped from his wine, internally cursing that the middle Charbonneau couldn’t make it. It was going to be a fun Thanksgiving, and he was going to miss the entire thing.
There was a final ring at the door, and he turned to greet his new guest as she arrived into the kitchen, wine bottle in hand. “Ah, there she is! Miss Butler, welcome to the Eloise,” he called, his voice once more booming in the small apartment. He had been looking forward to her arrival, to complete their group and hopefully let them sit down for Monday’s delicious dinner. He took the bottle of wine from her hand and, with a flourish, dropped into onto the table beside the rest of the drinks. “I’m so glad you could find time to join us,” he welcomed her. After her review of everyone’s socks, he was glad he had opted for a plain black pair that matched. “Mallory here is that one’s brother. This is Monday, who provided our delicious dinner.” He made the introductions rather quickly, rubbing his hands together at the thought of getting to dig into Monday’s food and soon.
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Dec 20, 2018 23:48:10 GMT
"Will, please don't tell me that you invited your sister's boss over to coerce him into giving your sister a raise." Monday rolled his eyes toward his friend as he flitted to and fro, deftly maneuvering between the three obstacles that sat in the kitchen. "Evan's a big girl and is more than capable of fighting her own battles. If there's anyone that could use your services it's me." Monday paused and cast a look over his broad shoulder at his host. "Invite Ms. Oswald over and work your charms and get me a raise. I have many more pairs of fancy socks that I wish to purchase." The vaguest curl of a lip was the only sign that the chef was joking, delivering the entire beratement in his usual deadpan manner. Mention of Will's godawful nickname elicited a groan from the preoccupied reptile as he began to lift lids from dishes. Wisps of aromatic steam wafted into the air as Gideon admired his creations. It was a stark contrast to his usual experimental concoctions.
Thanksgiving was a day of tradition and often time remembrance. To honor that Monday rarely deviated from the tried and true classics of the holiday. Roasted turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing for days, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet corn, and so much more was crammed onto his cart. They were the dishes taught to him by his grandmother and he relished any opportunity to prepare them. This year he had truly outdone himself, preparing enough food for a party of nearly double the size. He was eager to place his spread but was waiting patiently for their final guest to arrive.
Monday was in the midst of placing his homemade pies in the oven, temperature set to keep them warm and supple while they ate the main course, when Adam made a remakr about his grandmother. "My meme was certainly a unique woman." Monday left it at that. Talk of his grandmother always made him emotional, her loss still too near. It was his first Thanksgiving without out her and he was holding up markedly better than he had suspected. He had a feeling once the excitement of dinner passed and he was back home he'd be singing a much different tune.
The buzzer roused him from thoughts of his loss. Brilliant blue eyes looked upon the newcomer and their owner presented his most charming smile. As introductions were made Monday separated himself from his tasks to properly greet the new arrival. His breath caught as he laid eyes on the tall, copper-haired beauty. She was gorgeous. He quickly remembered himself and the ability of the woman beside him, clearing his throat as well as his head of his chaste thoughts of her beauty. The manners and etiquette drilled into him by his chosen career were the only things that kept him from choking on his words. "Pleasure to meet you, Mallory." He looked down at his socks and before turning to the rest of the guests. "I was not aware that my choice of footwear would be the talk of the party. If you all keep this up you're going to make me blush."
Monday, no longer paying attention to the awkward atmosphere, turned his attention to laying out his meal. "Now that all of our guests our here I can finally put out the food." Before anyone could insert themselves into the task Monday was shooing them away and taking his partially emptied cart into the dining room. "Everyone, go sit, sit." It was understood among Monday and his friends that when it came to food and the kitchen he was a bit of a control freak. When he got started it was better to shut up, listen, and get the hell out of his way. While it had been over a decade since he had last played football seriously the behemoth of a man would not hesitate to truck his way through any obstacle that stood between him and his intended destination.
Monday was already working methodically before anyone had time to take their places. Most of the table had been set in what could only be record time, dishes presented on silver serving platers and ornate china that was likely four times older than any of them. The last article to be placed and revealed was the piece de resistance, the center of Monday's gastronomical galaxy. The man beamed with pride as he lifted the lid of the roaster and presented the deliciously golden brown turkey. The separate smells that had been hidden behind lids and containers mingled and danced in the air, beckoning for the four to eat and gorge themselves on the feast before them.