Pres is the first one downstairs, dressed in his Panama suit of white flannel with a dark blue shirt underneath. The tie is black, as are his shoes, and his hair - well, some would call it artfully mussed. He'd call it 'just had a shower', himself. He's left off the hat and kept the cane, and he's taken a seat in the lobby to sprawl while he waits for the others. He has the slightly sleepy look of someone who got just a little too much sun...

     For her part, Maddie's showered and changed after a long day of surfing and shopping (what could be better?). She's taking more time about it - but then, she has territory to defend, as the token girl in the group. Her gown is white and emerald green, an off the shoulder flamenco gown with her hair swept up and held in place with bobby pins (discreet) and diamante combs (flashy). Silver earrings and bracelets complete the outfit, her neck left conspicuously bare as she leans in on one black high heeled sole to put the finishing touches on her makeup. Ah, l'amour...

     Loki's appeared a few steps behind Maddie, proving he remembered to pack formal wear by virtue of appearing in a tuxedo tailored for him. He slows to a halt beside Pres, with a brief smile, but no commentary.

     The suit was one of many deliveries to Room 104 today. It was altered and pressed and sent to his attention. It is a suit that shall never see an Oxford Comma stage -- it is a tad too formal -- and it transforms him from a rockstar on vacation to a member of British peerage.
     Tonight Balthazar looks like the Grand Duke he is...
     The suit is tailored, creased where it needs to be and crafted in an Italian fabric blend. The color is French navy blue -- a deep blue, but softer, not as deep as to be confused with black. Paired with that, a butter yellow shirt, a silk tie of the same color, but with an embossed pattern (tropical flowers, if one gets close enough to see), and a pocket square of the same color. The shoes are a matte black. The coat jacket is unbuttoned, to tone down the formality just a touch.
     Hands in his pockets, Balthazar strolls toward the group. It appears that the sun loved him today -- but not too much. He is merely a darker sort of caramel, not a hint of red to be found. His red-brown hair is combed neatly, the sea salt washed from it. "Aloha," he smiles. He looks to Pres and Loki first, patting Loki on the arm as he passes and then last, but certainly not least, to Madison West. "Professor," he grins. "You look lovely."

     Professor? Pres raises his eyebrows, looking between Balthazar and his little sister. "Surfing went well, did it?" He uses his cane to stand. "Good to hear. We have a reservation for in twenty minutes, but I thought we might want to stop in at the bar first. Thoughts?"

     Maddie is a little pink, but whether it's sun or a blush isn't immediately evident. She smiles to herself. "It went pretty good. After we finished, we dropped the board off with Honest John for airbrushing and sealing. Paid him extra to do a rush job - well. Some extra. You know Honest John, you don't pay him all of it until it's done or he'll spend it all on pot and beer and you'll be waiting a week for it to be finished."
     She stretches, then twirls, skirts flaring this way and then that. "I'm okay either way. Bar or direct to table. What do you guys want to do?"

     Loki shrugs, attention caught briefly by Maddie's spin. "I'm easy, but a drink couldn't hurt."

     "I'm fine to start with a drink," Balthazar says to Pres, an easy expression on his face. "And yes," he grins now, "...the surfing was brilliant. I'm looking forward to getting the board back. As it is, I'll miss tomorrow morning's run." There is a quick glance to Maddie. "I wonder what is rush to Honest John..."
     Turning toward Loki, Balthazar takes a half step back, gesturing toward the bar. One of them anyway. "Shall we?"

     "He deals with surf addicts, what do you think?" Maddie laughs, stepping forward to take the lead with a sway of her hips. "It'll be ready in the morning. If it's not, we'll get him to give you one of the other boards that's waiting for pickup."

     Pres smiles briefly. "Maddie knows all the surf bums around here," he allows, limping after her with a brief look at Loki. "Of course, it helps that until last year, she was a flat-chested skinny tomboy, so I didn't have to worry about any of them being crazy at her. Now I get to be the overprotective big brother."

     "PRES!" Maddie turns and sticks her tongue out at her big brother. "I'm going to steal your cane if you keep on like that."

     And the first round of "Keep your hands off my sister!" versus "You're not the boss of me!" has begun. If I'm unlucky. Loki says to Balthazar, "Let's," turning for the bar in question, and falling in beside Pres more than Balthazar in the process. It seems like a good point to start checking in on how seriously anyone is likely to take standard sibling teasing.
     Should I warn him that it won't be enough to stop them? --no, he'll figure that out soon enough, if he hasn't already.

     Balthazar smiles behind Pres' back, with a knowing look. I think I've just been put on notice. He glances to Maddie and follows along. There is a quiet laugh. "The hazards of the job, I fear, Pres..."
     And possibly a hazard to me...
     Balthazar joins the group, a pod of well dressed young people this is. "Oh good," he says to Maddie, "... I really didn't want to miss the morning run..." He falls quiet, happy enough to look and listen to the others. He shares a look with Loki. Yes, I can name that tune in two notes: Keep Your Hands Off My Sister is a popular tune.

     It is the clash of wills, and neither of them has less than a formidable one. The opening salvos have been fired, the warning shots made - and there is no way it is ending here. Maddie stalks gracefully ahead, spine straight and offended while Pres follows more resignedly. This isn't going to be pretty...
     The bar is open, of course. And it doesn't hurt that the Wests have been staying there so long; nobody bats an eyelash as long as room cards are presented, despite the overall youth of the group. A perky Hawaiian miss with dark hair and Polynesian eyes smiles from behind the bar. "What can I get you folks to drink?"

     Yes, he knows exactly the same tune Balthazar does. It's such a catchy classic among this age group. "White Russian," Loki says to the bartender, and while he is not the kind for visible cheer, he's not letting the new tension get to him. Visibly. If it's wrong to get people drunk in hopes that they'll get along better, I don't want to be right.

     He is the last to sidle up to the bar, room card found and in hand. He glances up to the bartender and smiles. "I'll have a Black Russian." Balthazar glances to Loki. "For symmetry."
     Pivoting to look at the Wests, "Shall we trade rounds?" We may as well, if we're going to be trading shots. As the bartender hands him his drink with a wink, he smiles. "Thank you. This round on Room 104, please."
     Hand in his pocket, the prince and duke surveys the battle field Part of him wishes he had taken up smoking in London. It's a disgusting habit, but it's nice to have when you're facing a firing squad. "So, did you two," he glances in between Maddie and Loki, "...get a chance to practice? Will you be tripping the light fantastic, or one another?" He looks to Pres -- no one's left out, and his mood is as congenial as ever, after all. He's just a bystander, really. Innocent.
     Mostly.

     "Cosmo," Maddie retorts, as if daring to break the symmetry. She ignores her big brother entirely. She settles onto a seat, crossing her legs with an elegance beyond her years. She relaxes a little at the question. "We did practice - did a run-through, anyway. I think it'll be good enough. Loki's very light on his feet, believe it or not. He dances very well. I give him a wholehearted recommendation to anyone who wants to try him." She grins at Loki, mood lightening a bit.

     Pres settles in more slowly, tucking his cane where he can get at it quickly, just in case. "Whiskey sour. I'll get the next round, sure. Only fair." He's a bit quieter now, gruffly taciturn as he settles his weight on the stool uncomfortably.

     Lighten up, Pres. Whether or not they're making out behind closed doors, it's not like Balthazar and your sister are going to start doing so on the dance floor. Loki rests an arm on the counter, watching the others out of the corner of his eyes. "We'll likely make it through an entire dance without unfortunate foot-related accidents. I remembered more than I thought I would."

     Balthazar smiles, eyebrows opening outward slightly. "I have noticed that he can keep time," he says as if amazed, turning his head to look from Loki to the others. His smile is wide and warm and he takes the first swallow of the Black Russian. There is a coffee flavor, the thickness of kahlua. He smiles in Maddie's general direction, which also includes Pres. "I will have to watch you a time or two, I think. I've not ever even seen a paso doble, let alone attempted one. It sounds like it should either be an expensive car or an expensive drink," Balthazar notes suddenly, glancing from Pres to Loki.
     "What did you two do today?" Balthazar turns his head again, looking to Pres and Loki primarily. His gaze lands lastly on Maddie, and while there's not a wink there is a sparkle.

     There is no sign that making out has been taking place. And Maddie's clear skin and more importantly, the cut of her gown, would do little to hide any lover's marks. She sits there calmly, with the grace of someone unaware of accusation or suspicion, feathers now only just slightly ruffled. "I think it is the name of a drink. You could try ordering one from the bartender and see what happens?"

     Pres does seem to mellow a little bit, though it's possibly the arrival of the drinks that does it. "We spent some time down at the lagoon, then headed back to the room for lunch. Hit the game room for a few rounds of pool as well. Relaxed a lot, mostly. Loki's agreed to put up with a dvd marathon at some point."

     It's so much easier to relax when the people around him are. Loki swirls his drink around the ice cubes a moment before having a sip. "The paso doble contains enough improvisation when done socially instead of for competition that it's easier in some ways than dances where you have to memorize everything. More jazz than orchestra, as dance styles go."
     He tilts a quick smile back in Pres's direction. "Only because I got my way with the sound system for most of the morning. I'm not sure if it's ever going to recover."

     "Pool? You know, I haven't even taken a moment to read the brochure. We have game rooms at our disposal?" Balthazar turns to look down the bar. He takes another swallow of the Black Russian. He's eaten today - quite a bit - but the alcohol works quickly. "I haven't really watched that many movies," he looks to Loki. Yes, one could believe that of Balthazar. It isn't spoken with snobbery. If anything, there's a touch of cultural embarrassment.
     Leaning forward on the bar, Balthazar looks to Maddie, the embarrassment -- whatever there may have been -- dissolves. "Do you think? Alright, I will ask her." There are things that occur to him to say, but all of them sound too flirtatious.
     It is perhaps wise that you are on the other side of the bar... on the other side of your brother at that.
     "Pardon me, miss," Balthazar says to the bartender. "Do you have a drink called the Paso Doble, by any chance? If so, I'd like to have one of those. If not... I'll stick with another Black Russian."

     "Pool, there's an arcade somewhere," Pres agrees, slouching back a bit. "You never have to go outside or leave the resort, really, if you don't want to. Though it seems pretty stupid to come to Hawaii and stay in the hotel the entire time." He looks over at Loki contemplatively. "We'll try to finish breaking it in after dinner and stuff."
     "Certainly, sir," the bartendress grins at Balthazar, looking professionally appreciative as she takes him in. "One paso doble. Would anybody else like anything?"

     Maddie eyes her Cosmo with regret. "I'll stick with this for now," she decides. "So Loki hasn't got to do all the steering when we dance. But you'll have to let us know if it's any good," she adds to Balthazar. "Loki, do you want to try it too? I'll have a sip of yours if you do."

     "Do you think they charge you extra here if you leave the sound system in need of psychological counseling?" Loki asks Pres. He turns his attention towards the bartender. "I'll try the paso doble as well, and that'll be it for me."

     "Pres and I will write down scores on napkins and hold them up as you wheel by," he glances between brother and sister. Always considerate -- and always careful to include them both. He finishes the Black Russian with a tinkling of ice against his glass and sets it aside. With a smile to the bartendress, Balthazar glances between each person in his crew. "Will the dancing be before or after dinner?"
     Balthazar lifts the drink, looking at its variable colors. Dark and light, bubbly, with a garnish -- the thin slice of a lime curled like the skirt of the female partner in a dance.
     He tries a sip, eyebrows lifting at surprise. Rum and sugar and champagne and something behind it. "Interesting. A little odd following the Black Russian," he grins. "It's pretty light, actually. You'll have to tell me," Balthazar says to Maddie, "...if it tastes like it dances..."

     "Hm. The dancing starts in half an hour - we could do it before dinner and get it out of the way, and that way not be dancing on a full stomach," Maddie muses, glancing to Loki. "What do you think? I'm good with doing it and working up an appetite..."
     Nimbly, she leans forward to grab Loki's drink to take a sip. "Rum! But yeah, not the best mix for a Cosmo." Maddie smacks her lips and surrenders the glass after that sip. "Bubbly as all heck, though. It makes me feel like I have to sneeze."

     Pres laughs. "You never did really like champagne that much, did you? I'll stick with my whiskey sours, sounds like it wouldn't mix real well." He glances to Loki. "If you can manage to make it develop actual intelligence and then break its sanity to that point, I know a bunch of bright boys at the computer lab who want to talk to you. Hell, they might want to marry you."

     "Scores? And here I thought you'd be taking notes for when it's your turn on the floor." For an instant, Loki's smile is almost challenging, before he turns back to contemplation of mixed drinks that don't mix especially well with each other. "Let's get the dancing in first, and burn through the drinks."
     He points out to Pres after another cautious sip of paso-doble-the-drink, "Intelligence isn't required for insanity, if some of the pets I've owned were any indication. Either that, or I once possessed the smartest rabbit ever."

     Balthazar chuckles a little, taking another testing taste of the Paso Doble. It's a bit sweet. He turns his head slightly, cutting a look to Loki, his smile drifting more to one side than the other, lopsided in humor. "I don't think notes are going to help much. I've never taken a formal dance lesson in my life, private school notwithstanding."
     He falls quiet a moment or two, to bask in the conversation of old friends. He takes note of a few things, but he does so quietly and keeps them to himself.
     "I think the dance will be more entertaining than the drink. It's a bit sweet for me." Balthazar leans forward, motioning to the bartendress. "It was worth a taste, just a bit sweet for me. May I have another Black Russian. I think I should stick with the first one."

     "Let's go get on the floor," Maddie grins at Loki, rising from her seat. "We'll leave these two sticks to sit and watch and pass judgment. Pres is," she adds with a tart look paired with her laugh, "pretty good at that, I'm finding! But hopefully our paso doble will pass muster. Come on, Loki."

     Pres does have the grace to flush a bit, looking embarrassed as well as resigned. He signals now for a refill on his whiskey sour. "No tripping each other, I want a good, clean fight. Go to your corners and come out dancing."

     Loki slides off his barstool, and offers a hand to Maddie. "You heard the man. If I step on your toes, you have a right to defend yourself to the full extent of the law."

     Balthazar swivels on his bar seat, his hands accepting the Black Russian refill from the bartender. He glances at Pres and then lifts his glass, sipping as he watches Loki and Maddie head to an open spot. "Dance-fighting. I've heard that was quite the sport back in the day. I think they called that vogue-ing
     I don't think her brother likes me very much. Head craning to the side, Balthazar tips back his chin, trying to get a better angle. He doesn't take any notes. He simply relaxes, his body given to the backed barstool, content to sit in quiet and watch them dance while he drinks.

     "As long as they don't get into a fight over which one's prettier, the fallout shouldn't be too bad," Pres answers judiciously. "Loki is a good dancer, though. We used to go to dances on vacations from time to time. He sells himself short, you know?"
     He slouches on the stool, watching with the alertness of any overprotective big brother. He's more relaxed, now, though. After all. Loki isn't into Maddie. As far as he knows.

     Maddie makes a beeline to the orchestra, quietly voicing the request for the appropriate music. It gets mild surprise - it's a little unusual, but it is, after all, still ballroom music, so after a few moments to finish off the previous piece, the unmistakable latin strains begin. She hurries to her side of the ballroom, about ten to fifteen feet from Loki, and lifts her arms with an exaggerated feline grace, hands hooked like claws as her chin lifts proudly.
     The look she gives Loki can only be described as smoldering; it's a wonder the dance floor between them doesn't spontaneously ignite.
     The opening strains give way to the combative, challenging guitar music, and Maddie stalks towards Loki, to hurl herself at his chest and allow herself to be whirled about before flinging herself away with his enthusiastic aid. It is, as some say, a dance for people in dysfunctional and even abusive relationships. It is, as some also say, a dance that almost qualifies as sex.

     Wow...
     Balthazar's head inclines a touch at the suddenness and gracefulness of the motion. His eyebrows leap upward. "So this is what they teach in American schools," he drawls in slow, and thoughtful (perhaps a little too thoughtful) and accented tones.

     On the dance floor, Loki walks like a completely different person, teetering on the line between confidence and arrogance. (And that's before the music starts.) His eyes are now riveted on Maddie, very much as if she is a full grown woman and not his friend's little sister.
     If he weren't so thoroughly focused on dance and dance partner, he might even spare a thought to remembering that she is the latter.
     One hand slides beneath her leg to lift the high kick in another spin, before he breaks free to circle about her. From behind, a hand to her neck takes her down into a dip that might be a fling to the floor if it weren't such a perfectly controlled dance. His steps leave their legs nearly interlaced before he's backing off again, passing the aggression back to her.

     I'm not even going to pretend that there's any way I'm going to do that dance...
     Balthazar leans in toward Preston West. "I'm going to give them both a ten," he mutters. "And there is absolutely no way I'm following that." Meaning Loki of course. And, naturally, this isn't the sort of dance that he should be doing with Pres' little sister.
     No, Balthazar. You may not do that. He doesn't need to hear anyone's whisper but he own. He smiles as he continues to watch.
     He leans back in his seat, giving Pres' space back to him easily, and he sips at the Black Russian as he watches, riveted.

     "Not so much American schools," Pres mutters, eyes narrowing. "Maddie probably took private dance lessons." He sounds resigned, but with an undercurrent of frustration. He watches the dancers' every move. "She does things like that. Gillian did swing lessons. Maddie ..."
     Are you putting on a show for him or me...
     Or is it actually about Loki...

     She holds just as much arrogance as Loki, burning brightly as she smiles at him in a challenge that bares her teeth in feral passion and possessiveness. She arches, she slides to the floor with a slide of briefly bared thigh as her gown slides back to reveal the garter on her white stocking.
     She is released, and she stalks after him, swirling her skirts at him in sexual ferocity, teeth snapping at him as she suddenly catches up to him with a hand pressing to his hip to spin her around to behind him. Maddie's hands appear over his shoulders, sliding down against him to press in at her collarbone as she lifts one bent knee so that her thigh lands firmly in his grasp.

     "It's... impressive," Balthazar says quietly.
     Impressive. Revealing. Though what the revelation is exactly, I have no idea.

     Loki takes Maddie's thigh for a delicate two-handed lift-and-spin that leaves them face to face. He follows directly with a far less delicate bend forward, one hand holding her thigh to his side and the other resting at the small of her back so that she doesn't fall backwards as he sweeps down until they're nearly parallel to the floor.
     They're held there for a beat of the music, two beats, before he pulls back, letting her feet both touch the floor once more as he stalks past her to the side. His face is set nearly into a sneer, and his eyes blaze entirely for her.

     Pres glowers for lack of better reaction, shifting uncomfortably on his stool. His expression betrays his mixed emotions; he watches the dancers with a reluctant kind of avidity, finally tearing his gaze away to look at Balthazar instead. "Good thing for them this isn't the Victorian era," he mutters. He drinks heavily.

     Maddie sweeps down with Loki, smiling at him with that same sort of lustful contempt - there is no other good way to describe it. He stalks away, and she slinks after him, hand on his arm to spin him towards her.
     She allows Loki to back her into a proverbial corner in a mimed shoving match, then seems suddenly to relent, winding herself around him. One leg lifts high, sliding over Loki's shoulder and down to delicately encircle his waist as he bends her backwards - just in time for the music to end. Maddie hovers there with the world turned upside down, supported by Loki's grip and by her leg around his waist.

     Balthazar snaps out of his own thoughts as Pres speaks. He glances to him. There is a sympathetic look. Among other things. "Or the 1950s." He sips at the dark drink, letting the inebriation move over him, slight though it is. His gaze follows the fight-dance-sex scene in the middle of the ballroom. His eyebrows quirking upward at her... flexibility...
     I'm going to need more drinks...
     A lot more...

     It takes a few non-beats of the music being over before Loki's stepping carefully backward, helping Maddie back to her feet in a way that's no more than brotherly. Not much more than brotherly. "Think they were paying attention?" he asks her quietly, with a small smile.

     If he were paying any more attention, he'd have to use his Black Card to cover it. Balthazar blinks, having to shake himself 'to' a moment. He glances to the bartendress. Another please.

     "Think anyone wasn't?" Maddie retorts, laughing a bit breathlessly but gaily all the same as she gets both feet back under her. "I think we knocked 'em dead. But whew, I need a drink now!" She grins with mischief aforethought as she twines her arms through and around one of Loki's to tug him back towards the table at a nonchalant pace. "Think they were impressed?"

     Pres glances to Balthazar before looking over at the bartendress to signal the same. He mutters, "That was just wrong. On so many levels."

     If Loki looked any more relaxed and nonchalant, he'd have his feet propped up on something. He follows Maddie's tugging back to the bar, saying under his breath, "If not, they're an unusually tough audience."
     He says to the two waiting men, "Dinner? Or are we still waiting on our table?" With a quick interior glance at both of them to see just how likely it is that someone took the dance too seriously. More likely than I expected, given how much that got into my head.

     "Ah...yeah," Balthazar says, at least a full minute after Loki speaks. He glances briefly to Pres, but his attention is fairly fixed and pretty well directed at Maddie. "That was... well, I'll say brilliant, but I'm not sure that really ... gets to it. No, not brilliant," Balthazar decides. "More like... nova." Yes, it was that hot.
     Glancing to the bartendress he says, "Let's close this out. We're going to head to our table. Just put it on my room. Let's not worry about splitting it. Thanks."
     He is off the stool in the next moment. He gives Loki's shoulder a pat. "Remind me never to dance around you. Like... ever." Balthazar laughs as he moves past him to Maddie. He holds out is arm to her. "Shall we?"

     Loki gets a once-over from Pres, as if visually measuring how many fingerprints are still left on Maddie after that dance. "Table should be ready any minute by now. Not sure how hungry everybody is. I think I'll take my drink with me to the table. Baz? Need anything?" Maddie gets a look which says we'll talk later.

     Maddie grins at Balthazar with a feline, female sort of mischief. "Oh, did you like it?" she asks innocently, with an airy wave of a hand. She ignores the death look her big brother's giving her. "It was fun." She takes Balthazar's arm with a creamy smile. "I'm ready for dinner, at least. Thanks for the dance, Loki."

Posted by rowan at April 02, 2009 07:37 PM