houseofcards_rp | [OTA] Space dementia in your eyes.

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[OTA] Space dementia in your eyes.

New Year's Day was the same every year, really. For one night everyone seemed to have forgotten their limits when it came to drinking the night before and the Castle stirred late in the morning, groggy and hung over.

Where the Spades' butler might have busied himself cleaning up after some of last night's drunken debauchery, Iollan ventured out of the confines of the Spades' kitchen to replenish empty jugs of water and bring more alka seltzer to some of the Castle's residents.

He'd no doubt be in the kitchen as well should those hangover-induced pangs of hunger bring some people down there before lunch.

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Honestly, she didn't really get it. The partying thing. So many adults doing supposedly adult things proceeding to get themselves blindingly drunk and do some not-so-adult things, then waking up late and spending the entire next day staggering around bleary-eyed and trying to put together the pieces of the night before. She'd been up at midnight, of course, forced into attending a party at her parents' sides, forced to play the good daughter before escaping just after twelve to spend the early hours of the new year in the courtyard contemplating.

And despite all that, Tobi is still up and bright-eyed at eight, ducking into the kitchens for a quick breakfast before she heads out. Both parents won't even be up for another two hours. Plenty of time to grab some toast and orange juice and vanish before they could find her.

You would expect the adults to be More Sensible than their offspring - a teenager, no less - and yet. Here she was, bright and early in the morning, not looking in the least bit hung over. Iollan was Pleased, even if, like most other emotions, it didn't show on his face.

"Are you certain I can't get you anything else, Miss Viljoen?" Surely a girl burned through more energy than bread and orange juice could provide.

'Sensible' and 'adults' were rarely two words Tobi would put together, herself. Way too much of what she saw them doing defied sense entirely. Why drink so much you'll be miserable the next day, for instance, let alone have to mop up the messes you made in your impaired state? Much better to keep a clear mind. Yet another thing most peers her age disagreed with, apparently.

Orange juice in one hand and toast in the other, she hovers out of the general paths of the kitchen staff, being careful not to get in the way. She likes the business of the kitchen, but learned not to be standing anywhere important very quickly. His question gets a brief headshake, followed by an eloquent shrug.

"Don't want to be a bother, sir. Just getting an early breakfast before everyone else wakes up."

"They will not be up for a while yet, Miss." Unfortunately. The amount of breakfast served today had been abysmally low. Many Spades had either refused to wake up for it or had spent the night outside of their Castle.

"Can I offer you a seat, at least?" No proper dining table and chairs here, but there were tall stools stowed away under two of the counters that would not place her in the path of too many kitchen hands. Surely that was a better option than standing around trying to eat In Peace.

She was welcome to stay, by extension. The kitchen was big enough to accommodate all of them.

The offer gets a quick nod, after a moment's hesitation. She's not going to turn down a chance to stay for a minute or two, at least, to watch the well-choreographed dance of the kitchen staff. Sliding onto the indicated stool with her toast and glass, she gives him another quick glance.

"Guess that means everyone's still feeling the effects of last night."

A polite way of calling them all alcoholics, maybe.

The mention of Last Night made Iollan almost sigh. That the Spades should do this to themselves a few times a year was not something he could easily come to terms with.

"So one assumes," he said. For as much as he would like to be proven wrong, Iollan does not come to expect more from the Spades than what they've got.

"And did you have a party Last Night, Miss?"

That anyone could want to do that to themselves at all wasn't something Tobi would ever understand. He's in good company on that one, at least. The mention of last night's party sends a brief flicker of dislike across her face, before a more neutral expression can reclaim it.

"I 'attended a small social gathering' with my parents," she replies, a delicately vicious emphasis on the words. "I don't know that I'd consider it a party. I'd much rather have spent the night out watching the stars."

"A night out watching the stars would have been More Sensible, Miss." Especially if the 'social gathering' got Out Of Hand, as many of them no doubt did around this time of the year. Not the best parents, they were, trying to influence their girl in all manner of their less-than-exemplary ways.

And she would agree with that very much. Not that her father had much in the way of influence on how she was raised, really. No, that was entirely April Viljoen's area. Finishing the slice of toast and contemplating more, she shrugs eloquently.

"Apparently one can't learn social graces from a tree, or so my mother says, and all Spade girls of good breeding must learn to socialize with their peers. The years between fifteen and nineteen are especially important for developing connections and making lifelong friends." The cadence of words and the slightly different tone make it clear she's parroting the words her mother scolded her with last night. And she might even agree, to a certain extent, though she doubts her mother would agree with the caliber of person she's making friends with.

Iollan admittedly didn't know much about raising Spade girls. It was one of few duties he had been relieved of.

"You can still make lifelong friends after nineteen, Miss Viljoen," he assured. Not that he was any sort of Expert on the subject, but Young People were prone to changes and it seemed just as fruitful to Develop Connections, as she put it, after giving a few years to allow life to settle down a little.

"And one doubts you will make many lifelong friends at a drinking party."

To be fair, Tobi also probably wasn't an authority on the matter. She just had vague notions that maybe the 'traditional' old family ways of raising and training a child were maybe why they all ended up completely bonkers in adulthood.

"I believe I was supposed to be mingling with other Spade children who got dragged along by their parents while the adults stood off to the side, drinking champagne and planning our lives. Sir. Of course, I might have missed the point." And of course she could make lifelong friends after nineteen, and make better ones, at that. She was hardly sure who she was now, how could she possibly know who she was going to be in four years? Seemed a moot point to plan for the life of this person, when this person might not be around then.

He is familiar with this notion of planning his children's lives. After Feilim died he had invested everything into Declán. Yet there was only so much he could do. Declán turned out... a little differently than Iollan had expected.

"They only want the best for you, m'lady. They ought to settle for Nothing Less."

Right. Only the best. Seemed like a lot of parents around here only wanted the best for their children, no matter what the children themselves wanted. It's no wonder most of them turn out 'a little differently.' Still. She's not going to argue, especially when he's let her stay this long and all. Quickly finishing the last few swallows of her juice, she sits the glass on the counter and quickly slides off the stool. "I'm sure you're right, sir. Thanks for letting me stay. Should I leave my glass someplace else?"

"You may leave it." It will disappear promptly, to be whisked away to a sink to be washed and dried and put away neatly as if it had never ventured out of the cupboard.

"Do take care, miss."

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[OTA] Space dementia in your eyes.

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Sorry it's a tad late.

No problem. I'm frequently late with tags.

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