houseofcards_rp | It's Swing Time~

Entry tags:

It's Swing Time~

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Elisha's motivation for organizing - or, honestly, delegating the organization of - a semi-formal dance party. Lucinda had suggested a ball, with stars in her eyes. She probably had already picked out ballgowns and themes in her head when Elisha had nixed the thing and - in a moment of desperation, with the memory of the swing-themed Fox wedding still in his head - suggest a Spring Swing, instead.

Everyone had run with it, and Elisha was pleased to say it had come out well. He was even more pleased to say that he didn't have to wear a suit, even if he stepped out into the lantern-lit gardens in everything but the tie. He paused near the raised dais provided for dancing and gave the small band the signal to start up the music before he attempted to fade back in the crowd. Not that that ever worked.

"Let the games begin," he murmured to no one in particular as he picked up a glass of champagne off a tray.

Note: Open to everyone and their brother; tag around, have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When she saw him, Amy took a seat at the edge of the dance floor, watching her father move with the happiest expression she'd ever seen on his face. And when his last partner stepped away, Amy was waiting with water and an open chair, and she gestured for him to join her.

"You look happy, Papa," she commented contentedly. "I'm glad to see that you're having a good time and settling in."

"And you're not dancing, daughter. Clearly there's something wrong here." But he'll take the seat, give her a chance to think he's not going to drag her out there with him.

Water in one hand and smile on his face, he stretched out comfortably.

If he hadn't sat down, she would have scooted away. Resting her feet was what she'd call it, so she flashed a dry smirk and stretched out her legs. "My date is doing his diplomatic thing right now, so I'm off my feet. You didn't see me dancin' earlier?"

Come on, Papa. She hasn't been on her ass all night, truthfully. Just the last hour. ...And a half.

"Indeed. And have you enjoyed your rest?" Which will be ending very, very soon lovely daughter.

He grinned at her behind his glass again before drinking down the last of it.

"I usually do," she answered with a grin of her own, sipping lightly on her own glass of water. Damn it all, she always knew she was in for trouble when David grinned like that.

The death grip her left hand took on the chair wasn't going to help much, but it made her feel better, at least.

"You should enjoy yours, too. Who knows when you'll get it again?"

"There's no rest for the wicked, my dear." And wasn't he just the most wicked of them all? A Deck villain back from the dead, as it were.

But that was neither here nor there. Push it down and ignore it, yes? Now wasn't the time (never was the time).

Setting his now empty glass aside, he held out his hand for her. "Are you ready?"

With a whine, she took his hand. "I love you. That's the only reason I'm getting off my ass right now. You know that, right?" Once she was on her feet again, she pressed a kiss to his jaw and gestured for him to lead the way to the floor, since it was probably a fair assumption that her Papa, who practically got off on being center-stage when dancing, would be happy to do it at the table.

"It's so good to have you back, Papa. I missed you more than you know," she sighed, leaning against him a little bit.

He let himself get tugged, amused that she'd force them onto the dance floor but easy enough with it.

Gathering her into his arms, he settled into a sedate dance - without the flash she'd probably been expecting. There was joy to be found in a simple dance with a daughter as well.

"And I you, my dear. Just don't let the word get out, we might ruin my smoldering, insane reputation."

She'd never know that he would have been satisfied at the table, but that was okay. Her arms naturally slipped around his shoulders, and when she smiled up at him, it was bright, brilliant...happy. Did he even know about her relationship with Clive? How happy she was to be with him, how thrilled she'd been with life, how she was sober for nearly five months and that the Kings of Spades, both past and present, had been her motivators to get there?

"I promise not to tell," she answered warmly before resting her cheek against his chest. He'd always been so tall, so strong and sure, and even now, though things had changed, those things held true.

"I've been clean since December nineteenth." It was unprompted, but he should probably know. "And I partially have you to thank for that."

He knew enough to know things were moving for the better, and likely less than anyone assumed.

"That's good." He turns his head, presses a kiss to her temple. "I'm proud."

"I...thought you'd died. I knew you didn't approve of me- bein' an alcoholic, and of all the ways for me to die, that'd be the one to piss you off most, so I kicked it. Got myself one hell of an amazing boyfriend in the process, too."

Which brought her to her next question.

"Ethan doesn't approve of me'n Clive. He likes him, but he doesn't approve 'cause Clive is King. Says it's stupid and it's gonna get me killed 'cause it makes me a target." She had to look up at him then, needed to actually see his face when he answered. "Is he right, or is he just bein' the overprotective big brother?"

So his death had been what pushed her? Depressing. And touching.

But he had no right to comment. Particularly not when his opinion was based mostly on petulant envy and childish dislike. When one couldn't say anything nice, one shouldn't say anything at all.

Sometimes. This time, at least.

"I am happy you are happy." His smile was tight and uncomfortable. He did not like Clive at the moment - being replaced never felt good. He didn't like Clive as King. And he didn't think anything could be less safe than being involved with a Monarch.

He didn't try to hide that he agreed with Ethan, but he didn't voice it, either?

"Overprotective we might be, but we'll always keep you safe, hm?"

She huffed. Amy was many things, but totally retarded was not one of them. She could read David's face when he wasn't trying to be a blank mask of nothingness. And while she didn't like what she was reading, she at least knew she could trust that, even without words, he was giving her his honest opinion.

"Mm. You'll always try, anyway." There was only so much that could be done to protect someone who wasn't protecting herself. "Should I walk away from him, Papa?" Serious question. Maybe it wasn't one she should have been asking him, but here she was. Asking someone that she probably shouldn't trust, but couldn't bring herself not to. "He makes me so happy, and I think he's good for me, too, but. Should I step away and end it because he's the King and I'm a Three?"

It wasn't fair to ask him. Not on a happy night like this. But she really did need the opinion of the only father figure she had. She might not agree with it, but it would give her a stronger outlook on the situation. Probably.

"There is only so much within on man's power." And he would never ever ever ever admit how little that was.

There was a longer pause, before David convinced himself to admit his own lack, and his words come out stilted, his very movements stiffening with the discomfort. "Clive is not the King I was."

How it hurt to admit ones glaring faults. After all, he had been very completely replaced during his forced absence, hadn't he.

He didn't have to say it; Amy knew how weak one man could be. He'd fallen from the pedestal on which she'd always placed him, and yet she loved him even more for it. Making himself human had brought him close enough that she felt she could actually reach him, rather than feeling worlds apart while making physical contact. She treasured it. "But so much can be done with so little," she murmured.

Because sometimes, one man could rally an army to move mountains. Sometimes.

She felt him tense, and she instinctively withdrew, just slightly, before reaching her hand up to his face. She wasn't dancing anymore. She was holding. Watching. Comforting?

"And you weren't the King that Sean was. The next King won't be the same as Clive. Each has their strengths. Each has their faults. The trick is knowing how to balance strength with weakness, so that even the weaknesses become a finely-honed strength. The strongest steel is formed in both fire -- hot strength, so fierce it could easily be a weakness -- and in ice -- cold indifference, so distant it could easily be a weakness. But you taught me that, when you put the two together, and they balance each other like they're supposed to, it's as much a weapon as it is a shield."

Realizing that she was starting to ramble and not make sense, Amy shook her head. "Point is, don't get hung up on the shit that, at the end of the day, don't matter. One way or another, everything changes. It coulda been worse." Her eyebrows rose, just slightly. "We coulda ended up with Julien."

"We have done so much with so little for so long that we are now capable of doing anything with nothing," he quoted quietly.

Sad, that he had forced people to that emotional level. Sad that he hadn't had more to give - not then, and not much more now.

He wouldn't go into the pain that comparing him with Sean had caused, smoothing the creases around his mouth with the best smile he could offer to that.

"And you coulda ended up with Julien."

"And that's a gift that few have," she murmured back. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was doing anything that she could to make that expression go away. To bring his smile back, if only for a moment. Because a smile on Papa's face was like a ray of sunshine mid-storm, and she lived for it.

Of course, his smile that was brought on his own was good. His next words, less so.

Her nose wrinkled, and she visibly shuddered at that. "Why. Why would you even say that? Papa, that's low, even for you." Gods, why? That was just horrible. "'Scuse me. I need to go puke in a goddamn corner now. Or maybe on Julien's stupid, shiny fucking shoes. Ugh."

Nose still scrunched, she looked up at him. "Coulda ended up with you. That'd fuck everyone up, you included." Yes, it was gross and weird to think about. Sure, David was attractive, but he was also her father. But the point was, she could say gross and weird things, too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's Swing Time~

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

My lateness is inexcusable. So many apologies :(

I'm no better. :(

:/

I dropped, but I'm going to finish this thread out. :||||