tampered | Just curve away ♕ ONGOING

Just curve away ♕ ONGOING

When; SEVEN IN THE PM on the TENTH of AUGUST...not that you couldn't...tell...by the date this is posted...oh and taking place AT The Blue Light
Rating; You can't curse in a Disney film, mate. Never mind that Poly Territory =/= to that. PG-13 and under, lalala...yes.
Characters; If you're not Jadis, it's probably okay...and she's not here so...yeah. Anyone Caspian invited...anyone Lucy or Susan might have invited, anyone Reepicheep might have invited............and anyone wandering into the Blue Light at that time who wouldn't cause a ruckus XD AGAIN it was a surprise party, and you can assume he was very surprised....yay, success!

Summary; It's not a surprise if they tell you ahead of time.

Log;

The Blue Light is always lively to Peter, whether he is working or not, but tonight it is particularly layered with sound and movement. From the good music--no karaoke--to laughter, from the shuffle of many more pairs of feet than he would have anticipated had he seen this coming to the intertwining of conversations, it makes for a cheerful atmosphere to say the least, and he is enough over the shock to be smiling more casually--as opposed to the sort of startled upward curve of his mouth from the first moment people started pooling in, like there must be some mistake. There isn't of course, and it's a simple enough thing to go from Peter Pevensie to something that resides more evenly between the schoolboy in England and the High King of Narnia--gracious with an earthbound kind of humor for the unexpected, and he doesn't doubt who's behind it all either.

He doesn't mind, but even that sentiment leaves something to be desired.

Grateful might be a better way to put it, and he is that too.

No matter how understood family can be, no matter how much of a given, these kinds of gestures, these joint efforts reinforce what even the proudest and surest of people can sometimes question, if only because they depend on it so completely. When the music lends itself to something of a waltz, his expression softens, because there is something about that traditional quality that makes the bar and dance floor seem wider, grander, older. It might all be in the back of his heart of course, and in the end it's too hard to tell for certain, his hands lightly tucked into the pockets of gray slacks that make for a most boring if practical match with a long-sleeved blue button down. He isn't dressed to the nines--a surprise party being...well, a surprise-- but this isn't the sort of affair that calls for that, because the people who set it up know better. As much as he fell in love with the ceremony of kingdoms, Peter tends toward simple things, including his attire.

Fitted t-shirts are adventurous, if you were wondering.

In any case, after a day of imagining his brother in this place and that place--wishful thinking or a curse, but either way he has brushed it off as much as he can--a party is actually quite relieving, quite ordinary, and he can settle himself quite familiarly amidst the cheer of celebration when he is so inclined. Tonight, he is, and he nods at some who wish him well, exchanging words here and there, often gravitating back to his sisters or the other Narnian royal present, but it isn't conscious, this habit of finding himself with his hand on Lucy's shoulder from time to time or his eyes going sideways to share a look with Susan, and so on. It's barely been an hour, and it could go on for quite a while--so he realizes--currently with his back pressed to the bar, drawing his arms up to fold lightly across his chest, taking in the scene.

To anyone not near enough to be heard over the music and conversation, he waves and mouths thank you and he means it, ever aware of how every moment should be paid its credit and attention, lest it slip away and a person walk away going I wish I had or I should have and the like. Even happy events call for this attention to detail--especially happy ones, so he grants it with a smile and a grace that belies the years his face no longer clarifies, the exception perhaps being his eyes that travel the breadth of the room, drawing a blue line between sharp and intrusive, keeping to the former side of that line.

[ooc: Please mark in subjects if you want it open to anyone or just open to....one person. Sigh. /eyes this opening tag of doom... Yes...really VERY SORRY ABOUT TL;DR IN A POLY NEAR YOU...I...seem to have a problem with logs...orz. THIS IS UP EARLY, CLEARLY since I'll be at work later at the actual time...real time, whatever we call it. Okay that is all!]

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One. He takes that offer, hand to hand, and his grip is very firm.

Two. He pulls Edmund in for a single but solid pat to the shoulder.

See? No harm done. And it was manly. Now he releases his friend, the final of four, and smiles. "Well. I have adjusted, a lot." I have been here for a year, Caspian thinks to himself. It's already very clear to him that once again, Edmund does not remember his previous times here, which is all right with Caspian. Things happen as they will, they have Edmund now, so all is well. "You were missed, I hope you know that. I kept everything under control in your absence," he boasts...a half truth.

Despite the manliness, Edmund wouldn't really admit to welcoming any physical contact that didn't involve sparring. Not that he'd want to spar with Caspian, because - another thing he refused to admit - Caspian would probably win. But, the other King was lucky and got to spend all of his time in Narnia while the Just had to, rather unjustly, sit at a desk learning algebra.

"Well, I hope you've been keeping them in check for me," he said, also boasting a bit as if he was clearly the most responsible Pevensie, "It can be a bit tough."

In a spar, maybe. Put gold into the equation, possibly not. Give the Just two swords and tell him Caspian is in the way, no. But such seriousness is lacking when it comes to friends. It's a given that they'll never have reason to draw swords against each other, not like how Peter and Caspian once did. They have come far from such trespasses.

"I know," Caspian insists, "especially Peter. And now that he is a year older he is as boorish as ever."

His complaint isn't real of course...although that doesn't mean what he says isn't true, hehehe.

He rolled his eyes, not in a seriously annoyed manner but more in an 'oh, Peter' way, "Well, I think we all expect that a bit. He's rather magnificent at it."

That was Edmund's way of saying that he was worried in his time alone in the City and was very, very glad to have Peter around. And Susan, and Lucy, and Caspian. If he was meant to be on his own he'd have been an only child.

"So, this isn't Earth and it isn't Narnia," he said, "But it isn't me and my siblings called here. Are there a lot of Narnians here?"

Is that a pun? Caspian isn't sure if he should laugh or not. Oh well, that uncertainty lasts only two seconds before he does in fact laugh. Though the Telmarine was born an only child, he fully believes for now what they have is no mere coincidence. They are meant to be together, all of them, in this world. Why else would Edmund Pevensie arrive on the eve of Peter Pevensie's birthday.

"No, just us, Reepicheep," he adds, "and Aslan."

"Oh, the little mouse is here?" he said, then corrected himself, "Er, I mean, the noble knight of Narnia, of course. Who just happens to be a little mouse."

And then the last word Caspian said sunk in. Edmund didn't acknowledge it at first because he always figured that Aslan was kind of everywhere. Everywhere in Narnia. "If Aslan is here..." he said, "Then Aslan's not in Narnia?"

"For many months he was here in the same way his spirit rests in Narnia. Now we have seen him, we have spoken to him, though he remains elusive as ever."

Caspian nods once.

"He is here and there, so he assures us."

He has faith in the lion to tell them what they need to know. Narnia is not without him, without them either, in ways Caspian could not begin to explain.

"...alright." he said, not quite convinced enough but not too doubtful either, "If anyone can go between worlds at will, it'd be him I suppose."

"Are we supposed to be on some sort of a mission here? Did someone call us?" he asked, "Or is there any real reason at all?"

"I cannot answer that for you, Edmund. I have been trying to figure that out myself. Day and night though, the most important part is that we have always been able to turn to each other," he says while taking a lean against the counter's edge.

"To my memory, not one of us has ever been in this world alone. If there is any reason at all, we are here to keep each other company."

This is Caspian's logic. When he first arrived he thought he was alone, only to find Peter in the same place. Then Susan, Edmund, and Lucy arrived one by one. Reepicheep and Aslan followed. Some of them have come and gone, but always to return. And then on this train of thought, if Edmund has no recollection of his previous visits, then he does not remember one particularly surprising but secretive detail about his brother, and himself. It isn't Caspian's place to speak of it, so he won't.

"I guess that's a good reason." he said, even though he was really hoping to do some adventuring or find that Caspian needed his help on some great quest. In time, perhaps.

"Well...what do you do here?" he said, his mind wandering to the subject of boredom. Would he have to attend a boarding school here? Only Peter was old enough to hold a job, and he was too busy with school as well, so who would take care of them? At least, if they'd been here for months, he was confident there was an actual answer.

Adventuring is still an option in this world, considering the endless horizon of the sea or the seemingly unending depths of the underground or even the mystery of the forests. In his time here, no one has ever made good on a claim that they know the City in and out. He doubts there ever will be such a person beyond the deities themselves or those like them, Aslan and an angel or two included. Caspian has no intention of associating with the former nor would he dare demand answers from the latter. So the City stays a mystery to him and that means adventuring is still on the agenda. They must share their stories with Edmund sometime. In fact they will, after the excitement calms and they are all home together once again.

As for what Caspian does he...

The Telmarine rubs the back of his neck, sheepish smile on his features because he doesn't have a real job. Yet, okay? Yet. "We carry on with our days. Peter works here in the Blue Light sometimes. Susan and Lucy attend lessons at the Academy by choice. I..."

Paint. Work on ships. Try to find what truly inspires me.

But most of all Caspian spends time with his friends, making memories because they will leave this place, one day.

"So, a bit like an extended summer vacation, I guess?" he asked, even though there was an Academy to go to he wasn't bored enough to take any schooling by choice just yet.

He thought it a bit strange to end up in a strange place with no great task to complete, though with his last adventure in Narnia being so recent he is glad to be able to spend time with his family - and the Narnians, something he'd rarely ever get to actually do in Narnia as kings don't often get to linger around.

"Do we get a house?" he said, hoping they weren't expected to sleep in the bar. Rows of table chairs aren't very comfortable.

"Yes, you can say that," Caspian nods. It isn't the first time he's heard their time here called an extended holiday.

As for a house...the Telmarine's smile broadens.

"We have a house and you have your own room. Do not worry. We'll take you there after we have cleaned up to Blue's expectations."

"My own room? Really?" he said, "Not that I mind sharing but...I don't usually get a whole room of my own."

He was a lot more excited about that than he should be, but he was expecting to be sleeping outside or on bar benches tonight.

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Just curve away ♕ ONGOING

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