AuntFlavia — Roleplayer Guild

Jonas Landvick

6:43 pm

As Jonas left the library and Kim behind, the brandy he had been drinking was working its magic. It warmed him up nicely, like embers in his core. He had said to Kim that he'd go back to the bar, but then he got to thinking about what she had said about her phone and decided to see if his wasn't working either. With that in mind, Jonas started to slowly ascend the gorgeous staircase to the second floor, heading to his own room to get his phone. He tried to listen as he walked, hoping to hear signs of life in the huge building. 

Once he got inside his strangely decorated room, he searched his bag for his cell phone. Finding it, though not easily, Jonas checked and sure enough, there was no signal. He sat himself on the floor of the room, not sure what to make of it. Was it normal for a place like this to have no cell reception? Sure, it was isolated, but it was a home. A busy and very wealthy home. A busy and wealthy home that he'd been invited to for no earthly reason, no reason that Jonas could think of anyway. 

He drummed his fingers on the rim of his glass, keeping his hands busy while he became further lost in thought. 

Or maybe he was just looking a gift horse in the mouth. A five thousand dollar gift horse, complete with a free trip to a luxurious manor in Germany. Besides, it had been a long while since he took some time for himself, it had all been work lately. Interview these people, write this report, don't look at each other, don't enjoy yourself. 

Jonas sat there for some time, much longer than he expected, staring at the phone in his hands, his curiosity eventually losing to his  growing ache to have a good time. Perhaps it was the brandy, which had by now been drained from the snifter and was seeping into his thoughts. Everything seemed warm, physically and mentally. Why shouldn't he try to have a good time? No reason to waste all this free hospitality.

“Oh, what the heck, why not?” Jonas mumbled as he stood up from the floor and left his empty glass on the floor. He left his room, determined to find something fun to do instead of, well, thinking too much about everything. 

6:56 pm

Jonas meandered down the stairs to the ground floor, wondering what time it was. Just as he reached the bottom, the door to the ballroom opened briefly and Sol emerged, speaking in German over his shoulder to someone else. Giving orders, probably. When Sol spotted him, he dashed towards Jonas to the young man's surprise and exclaimed, “Hey, Jonas! What’re you doing? Doesn’t matter- bar, drinks, now! Go!” Sol chivvied playfully, all but pushing Jonas towards the bar room.

Jonas grinned at his good fortune: here he was wondering how to have some fun, and along comes the charming foreign millionaire to show him. “Mr Wolf, I like the way you think.” He said, stepping through the doors with the other man. “What's your poison, then?”

Sol shoved him a little and said, pretending to be serious, “Never call me ‘Mr Wolf’. And you’ll see…” Sol motioned to Felix, who was behind the bar and said, “Félix, two please.”

“The usual, Herr Wolf?”

“Oh yes.”

As Jonas approached the bar with Sol, he decided to get a better look at the bar, since he really didn't last time. It was sleek, sophisticated and tasteful in general, with its clean dark lines. There was a small bit of raised floor by the window, along with a table for playing cards and oddly enough, a jukebox. There was also a print of that sun emblem on the wall. It seemed like that thing was everywhere.

As Jonas reached the bar, he saw Felix mixing the drinks in a round glass and greeted him, the brandy soaked part of his brain ordered him to rhyme for no good reason. “Hiya, Felix. I’m back, for more cognac and...your tie is black.” 

For a moment Felix looked up to stare at Jonas, unamused, but then swiftly went back to mixing. “There isn't any cognac in this, sir.” Jonas watched intently, though he normally didn't drink stuff that wasn't brandy. A lot went into the glass, but he didn't recognize at all what kind of cocktail it was. Whatever it was, it was colorful, with an intense yellow shade and red sections on the top and bottom. It reminded Jonas of, well, the sun. 

“There certainly isn’t, but don’t give away the secret,” Sol said as Felix decorated the rims of the glasses with wheels of a blood orange, a normal orange, and a lemon, each smaller than the next. Sol turned to Jonas and picked up his glass, Jona following suit. “The only way to drink this is down in one. Ready? Eins. Zwei. Drei.” As Jonas started to down his, Sol said “Prost!” rolling the 'r' in a way only a foreigner could, and downed his. 

As Jonas finished his, the sharp flavor of the drink hit him, but soon the sweetness hit, tasting almost like honey. It was a bright drink, and a very nice tasting one to boot.

“No, not good enough, Jonas. Not good at all.” Sol teased, both of them putting their glasses down. “In Germany, when we toast, we say ‘Prost’ and look each other in the eyes. Noch zwei, Félix. We’ll try again.”

Jonas chortled at the thought of the next toast and waited eagerly for the next drink. “I’ll do better this time, I promise.”

While Felix started mixing the drinks again, Sol asked, “So, how is your room?” He lifted an ornate cigar box out of his pocket and pulled out a cigar for himself, also offering one to Jonas. 

Jonas held up a hand to politely decline. He never smoked. “It’s interestin'.” Jonas tried to answer Sol's question without offending him. He didn't want Sol to know what he actually thought of the décor of the room. No need to upset the man. “I’ve never been in a place so...majestic, I guess.”

At the word 'interesting' Sol twitched an eyebrow, apparently catching on, though he didn't say anything. He just lit his cigar, letting Jonas' words hang in the air for a moment. Without really indicating his mood, Sol simply said, “We Wolfs are very lucky to live here.”

Trying to recover from the faux pas, Jonas assured him. “Well, I feel lucky just being here. I’ve never even been to Germany, and here I am.” He raised his arms and looked around, gesturing at the manor itself. 

“Here you are indeed, and it’s our pleasure to have you. Now, try not to fuck it this time,” Jonas bit his tongue to keep himself from giggling madly at Sol's little translation error. Never fucked a drink before in my life, no siree. He thought, shaking with suppressed laughter. Sol continued, ignoring him, “We hit glasses, say ‘Prost!’, look each other in the eye, than drink it. In one go. Ready? Eins. Zwei. Drei.”

“Prost!” They both shouted together, looking each other in the eye, though Jonas couldn't roll his 'r's worth a damn. Still, he couldn't help but smile. Now this, this is fun. Jonas thought to himself as he quickly drank again, though not as quickly as Sol. He didn't usually do this kind of drinking.

Having necked the really quite strong drink, Sol trilled his lips and shook his head, eyes closed. Jonas himself squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths, drowning in the smell of alcohol.

Sol judged his performance, pulling no punches. “Six out of ten. You can do better. Félix?”

Jonas put his glass down, exhaling heavily. “Geez. That’s a heckova drink, there.”

“I did tell you about his talent.” Sol reminded him, blowing his cigar smoke away from them. “Anyway, are you coming to our little party later?”

“Oh, yah. Wouldn’t miss it. ‘Sides, it’d be rude not to.” Jonas straightened his tux a little, feeling a bit embarrassed for wearing it so early before the party. 

“Wonderful!” Sol said excitedly, probably translating straight from German. Jonas never really heard anyone just say 'wonderful' like that. He seemed to notice Jonas' discomfort with the tux. “At least you look the part.” With that, Sol reached out and straightened his bow tie for him. Jonas could hear his own heart pounding through his ears as he wondered if lack of personal space was a German thing, or just a Sol thing. Either way, Jonas wasn't complaining, though he could feel his face turning bright red. “We’d hate to miss one of our guests of honor.”

Don't say something stupid don't say something stupid Jonas' thoughts raced crazily in circles through his head. This man's a millionare, don't say something stupid “Y-you’re just sayin’ that, I bet. You've probably had lots of fancier guests of honor around here.” he stuttered a little, but was starting to get a hold of himself again. 

“Jonas, I do not pay for a complete stranger to fly across the world, stay in my home, and risk revealing Félix’s godbegotten talent because I do not want them to come to my party. Oh,” Sol noticed that Felix was done with the drinks and picked his up. Jonas, just relieved to be focused on something else, readied his glass as well as Sol started the toast again. “Eins. Zwei. Drei. Prost!”

“Prost!” Jonas toasted along, though he had a lot of trouble getting this one down; some of the drink spilled into his beard. When he was done, he put the glass down again and tried to recover himself. “Hope I can even walk to the ball room later.”

“Ah, Félix, ‘no more then’.” Sol said to the bartender, with something of a wink in his voice, which Jonas understood once he saw Felix loading up the drinks again. “So long as it doesn’t stop you dancing, Jonas, I don’t care if you can’t speak.” 

A grin began to form on Sol's face, a not entirely pleasant one, though Jonas didn't see it. He was staring wide-eyed at the drinks forming in the glasses. “Again? Holy smokes…this has gotta be the last one, I swear.”

Sol leaned back, a cloud of smoke emerging from between his teeth, the grin only getting wider. It was as if he smelled blood. The haze from the smoke floated towards the ceiling. 

“Would you like something else, sir?” Felix asked. 

“Yah, a chance to breathe.” Jonas answered, supporting himself on the bar a little, feeling a little light headed despite that fact the he was sitting down. 

“Ah, Félix, I think I’ve already broken him.” Sol said, almost sounding disappointed. He waved his hand in front of Jonas as if he were a paramedic. “You broken, man?”

Jonas sat up straight, not wanting to give up so easily, especially not in front of an incredibly rich and not to mention good-looking man. He tapped the bar, letting Felix know he could carry on. “One more. Then I’m broken.”

“Okay, man,” It sounded strange with that German accent. “Whatever you say...” Sol mumbled a word that sounded suspiciously like 'coward', though the twinkle in his eye let Jonas know that he was just kidding around. “Do you know if the others are coming tonight, by the way?” 

“Kim is. I was talkin’ to her earlier. The rest, I dunno.”

“Well, if you see them, tell them that they have to. Guests of honour and all.” Sol went for his own drink, then put his hand on the bar and shook his head, willing himself for another drink. Jonas guessed that even he was pretty tipsy too at this point. 

“I will. Least I can do.” Jonas took his own glass again, propping himself up on the bar and met Sol's eyes for the toast again. Through yet another cloud of smoke, he could see Sol's eyebrows raising, as if to ask 'You sure?'. Jonas nodded, wanting to get in at least one more for the road. 

“Okay then…” Sol warned playfully, as if this wasn't going to end well. He straightened himself and shifted in his seat, running his hand through his hair and messing it up slightly. Then, he took his glass up with flourish and toasted yet again. “Eins. Zwei. Drei. Prost!”

Jonas, his inhibitions nearly entirely gone, tried pitifully to roll his 'r's again and succeeded in only looking like a complete idiot. “Prrrrrrrost!” He drank it, unsteadily, but he drank it. 

When Sol finished, he said, “Getting there. That gets an eight from me. Félix, what do you think?”

“I’d say more of a seven.” Felix deadpanned. Jonas blinked; he didn't expect to hear something from the man that wasn't 'Yes, sir.' or 'Very good, sir.' 

“Uugh, stick a fork in me, I'm done.” Jonas moaned a little, closing his eyes again. He heard Sol speaking in German next to him, not really listenening to what Jonas was saying. The stench of the cigar grew fainter as they spoke, Sol's first language sounding much more natural than his English.

“Félix, wie spät ist es?”

“Zwanzig vor, Herr Wolf.”

“Scheiße.” Jonas smirked a little at that last one. He'd heard that word enough in movies to know what it meant. Sol turned back to him, switching to English again. “Hey, man, I have to get changed and ready, so I’ll see you later, yeah? Don’t be late!”

With that, Sol left the room, staggerting slightly and taking willful self elsewhere. Which left Jonas sitting on the bar stool with Felix behind the counter. As he started to feel a little off kilter, Jonas turned to Felix and asked, “Say, what's in these anyhoo?” Jonas could hear his already deep voice getting throatier as the alcohol swam around in his head.

"I am forbidden to tell anybody, 'on pain of death so long as I live'," Felix recited, probably something Sol told him. His eyebrows twitched as he said it, knowing it sounded silly. “Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I have other duties to attend to.” Felix said with a slight bow and strolled stiffly away, not waiting for Jonas to respond.

“Ohm...sure. Have fun with...whatever it is yer doin'...” Jonas slurred, though Felix had already left the bar room. Realizing he was talking to himself, Jonas giggled and attempted to put his feet up on the stool next to him, before giving up and saying out loud, “Nnnope, nope. Bad idea.” and just deciding to stand up. He did so, mostly relying on the bar to hold his weight while he straightened himself. “...geez.” He mumbled, then giggled again. 

Jonas headed for the door as well, shuffling as if he was afraid to pick his feet up off the ground. When he cleared the doors into the entrance hall, he saw that it was much busier out in the hall than in was earlier. Both Sol and Felix had disappeared, but there was a small flood of waiters being ordered around by Klara Beck. He guessed that they were setting up for drinks, which would start soon. Not wanting to get in the way or trip over anyone, Jonas decided to head upstairs to his room. He should probably make sure that he and his tuxedo were still clean, or at the very least splash some water on his face. 

Near 8:00 pm

Manuevering clumsily through the hall, Jonas reached the staircase leading upstairs and grabbed the railing, steadying himself. He made slow progress up the stairs, blinking excessively all the way up. In front of the landing, there was a door like the one on the ground floor leading to the ball room. As he reached the landing, these doors opened to reveal one of the twins he'd been introduced to earlier, carrying a flute of champagne. As they saw each other, Jonas grinned and waved at her sheepishly. “Hiya, uh...” he paused as he tried to remember her name. “...I forgot which already.”

Lena looked him over, unperturbed. “Lena, ha ha.” It wasn't really a laugh; maybe she was used to it. Either that, or she was distracted. “You're coming from the bar, aren't you?”

“Ummm…..yup.” Jonas blinked, smiling. 

“And Sol was there, yeah?” Lena seemed to read his already sluggish mind, pursing her lips. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she said, “He doesn’t waste time, my brother.”

Jonas looked at her, uncomprehending. Why in the heck is she so grouchy? I thought we were having a good time here... Even that thought made him want to laugh again, but he suppressed it as she scrutinized him. A beat of silence followed as he tried to come up with a response. “Well, he uh...he can sure, um…y’know.” His train of thought petered out, and he wasn't sad to see it go. Too much thinking.

“He certainly can.” Lena snipped irritably. After a moment, she relaxed a little and said, “Anyway, I have to get ready. I’ll see you later, Jonas.” She headed to the next floor up, and just as Jonas started walking again, she offered him a parting shot over her shoulder. “I would keep off the yellow stuff if I were you. Most people don’t have Sol’s composition. If you can’t say no to him, you’ll make a dreadful mess.” 

“Hokay.” Jonas said, not really listening. He had already written her off as a cold prune. As soon as she was out of ear shot, he blew a raspberry and continued shuffling to his room, singing under his breath, “I'm walkin' on sunshine, wooaaaaah, and don't it feel good...”
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