Intermission at the Gala

The night had been going well up until some point where Yama had gotten into an argument with his date. The pair had separated to give each other space and time to calm down. But it was still something that had weighed on Yama’s mind, enough so that he had taken to the comfort of the endless champagne the Gala offered.

Yama was by no means drunk; hell, if asked, he wouldn’t even classify himself as tipsy, being someone who could hold his own liquor well enough. Still, he was a bit more relaxed, even if his facial expression was that of someone you’d expect to be annoyed. Truth is, the tailor was just lost in his thoughts, twirling the stem of his champagne glass as he seemed to be glaring at the contents that sloshed around. Perhaps he needed someone to talk to.

What is that? He thought to himself as a staff walked by with some sort of bread topped with what looked to be tofu. Harlow wanted to try but the staff got swarmed pretty quickly. The portion sizes were so small, he did not doubt some of the party-goers were probably hungry and maybe some were hungrier than usual judging by their outfits. Sighing, he acted quicker this time and snatched another glass of champagne.

The party was going strong at this hour. Some folks were drunk while others let themselves go, laughing loudly and no longer trying to be polite or holding a certain level of class. It helped him relax seeing everyone be more natural as opposed to the stiffness at the beginning. He stopped to stand on the side of the main crowd and sipped his champagne, his eyes landed on another who was focused on the drink in their hand.

“Heck of a party, eh?” he said with a smile.

Yama’s ears twitch as a voice pipes up near him, for a second he isn’t aware that Harlow is speaking to him, but as his eyes drift over to the other, Yama notices he was in fact being addressed.  The corner of his lips twitch down, the makings of a frown as his eyes scan the obnoxious party goers around them.  He had thought that more people would hold their liquor, uphold some decorum if this were to be a ‘high society’ party.  Still, he shouldn’t be too surprised when a limitless amount of alcohol was being provided. 

“Yes...” The tailor agrees, pressing the glass to his lips as he speaks.  “Things seem to have gotten out of hand rather quickly.”  His speech is slow, voice low as the tailor seems to be thinking to himself.  “Any reason you aren’t joining in alongside the chaos?”  A question for idle chatter,  Yama had his reasons for staying on the sidelines, to remain off the sides, perhaps Harlow had their own as well.  If the other bunny didn’t feel up to sharing their own reasons, Yama had no issue minding his own business. 

The other Succubun spoke with a control in their voice that surprised Harlow, it was mysterious and intriguing. He raised his eyebrows at his question, “I guess I have had my time doing that sort of thing,” he chuckled, staring into his drink. There was a time in his life where he would indulge in the rowdiness, but as he aged, the hyperness also died down. “And yourself?” Harlow kept his eyes on the crowd in front of them.

It should have been expected that if someone asked a question in most cases, the question would be returned to them.  Idly, Yama swirls the content of his drink in the glass, mulling over just how much he was willing to share if any at all.  He wasn’t like Harlow, he hadn’t been ‘rowdy’ in any part of his life, at least not in the sense like some of the current party goers had indulged in.  

“It’s...not my thing.”  Yama finally comments, he had always been the silent, brooding type.  Just as Harlow had found him doing.  “I’m simply here at the request of another.”  Yama would rather not be here, but there were some people in Burrowgatory who could get the anti-social tailor to cave and do almost anything.  Strangely, even though Yama has brought up someone else, he was evidently alone.  

“Either way, hopefully the night doesn’t prove too troublesome for you, Mr...”  Yama’s pause signifies the other to prompt their name, not like the tailor had met the other before, nor was he the type to know of others so easily either.  

“Harlow,” he finished for him. “I should hope not. I don’t plan to involve myself with the—-uh more eccentric individuals here.” He was certainly not looking to get into anything that would give him headaches, not even over drinking. “I did not catch your name,” he asked.

A drunkard had just stumbled out of the larger crowd and onto the side, tripping and falling next to them, they scrambled to get to their feet. Harlow stood by, watching silently. He would typically offer help but as he said, he’d rather keep his head low for now. Parties like this meant you never knew who was who and drunk Succubuns were known to be unpredictable. Harlow adjusted the mask on his face, letting some of the pressure off his cheeks, then returned it back to its place. 

“No.  You didn’t.”  Yama agrees as Harlow points out that the tailor’s name was still unknown.  Before he has a chance to offer his name the pair are interrupted by a drunk party goer.  Without missing a beat, Yama moves over and grabs them by the back of their suite, like a mother cat scruffing their kitten, and picking them up with ease.  The tailor says nothing as he drags the party goer back into the chaos of the festivities, leaving Harlow and Yama back into their small pocket of peace and tranquility.  

With a sigh the tailor is returning to the spot he had kept himself in, by Harlow’s side.  “Yama.” He finally answers, hopefully it is evident enough that the tailor is provided his name.  

Yama honestly didn’t care for who was who in this party, but he also wasn’t too concerned with upsetting anyone considering how drunk other bunnies were, as if they’d remember him.  It wasn’t like he had been particularly violent either, just some...gentle...maneuvering out of his personal space. 

“Last time I come to one of these events...” The dual colored haired bun mutters under his breath, seemingly growing more annoyed with each second that passes.   Again, he sighs, “It might be less rowdy out on the balcony, or farther away from where they are serving alcohol.”  After all, the drunks were busy getting drunker, naturally they’d hover around where the waiters were serving the drinks. 

He made a mental note of his name. “Well, you certainly did that in one fell swoop.” Harlow did a slow clap, drink still in hand, the remaining champagne sloshed. “I agree the balcony would be better, Yama,” he finished then turned to head in that direction.

It was a cool night, a light breeze grazing his cheeks as he exited out onto the balcony. As per Angora’s standards, the balcony was decorated just as nicely as indoors, choice indigo ribbons lined the rails and flowers poked out between. “The casino sure makes some big bucks, this place is gorgeous.” He breathed in the fresh air, it was clear, not musky like how it started to get inside. 

Staring at his cup, he watched the liquid bubble within. “You mentioned that you were here at the request of another,” Harlow looked at the other bun, “Any particular reason why you are not with them?” He took a sip.

Yama followed Harlow in silence, listening as the other talked about the venue as his arms rested on the ledge of the balcony.  The fresh air was much better in comparison to how stuffy it was starting to get inside the halls.  The tailor doesn’t comment on the casino’s wealth, as thats just how casinos worked in general.  The house always won in the end, gambling wasn’t a vice Yama typically had to deal with.  He’d like to keep his hard earned currency.  

Then, of course the conversation turned to him, and his missing date.  Yama is almost surprised to hear it come up after he had mentioned it earlier in the conversation.  The tailor ponders on the question, the stem of his champagne glass twisting between his fingers in idle thought.  “We got into an argument.” He sighs, turning his gaze to some nearby trees, just somewhere to focus on.  “So, I thought it best we separate for the time being, they had too much to drink.”  He finishes, taking and idle sip of his own drink.  They’d be fine after some time apart, but Yama knew it was best to wait til his date sobered up at least a little bit.  

At the revelation of why Yama was left alone, Harlow kept his gaze forward, knowing that it was probably something he should dig into. He let his words hang in the air as he stretched his arms above his head. “Space is a necessary thing sometimes, especially in any relationship, business, friendship or other.” He finished the last of his champagne and placed the glass on the ledge where Yama was leaning on, then he leaned against it with his back, careful not to push the glass off accidentally. 

“I hope you don’t swear off such events, but I wouldn’t fault you for that. It gets busy and hot and crazy but you never know what it could bring. Tonight could have been wonderful just as easily as it could have been horrible. Sometimes, you just have to take that chance to find out.” He rambled on. Harlow tilted his head and looked at Yama, “So what is it that you do for a living?” A bit of a whiplash in subject but he hoped it was a topic that could at least take the bun’s minds off matters.

Yes, space was necessary in some cases, this being one of them.  Yama makes a noise of acknowledgment at Harlow’s statement, planting his cheek against the palm of his hand as his elbow rests on the ledge.  

His head picks up slightly when Harlow mentions not wanting Yama to swear off these events, the corner of the tailor’s lip twitches up, eyes glancing over at the other succubun “What, want to see me again?” He scoffs, he’s joking but it may not be so obvious with how little his expression shifts.  Typically the man is almost always straight faced.

The question of work is brought up and the man shifts a little, it was a typical question for meeting new people, “I’m a tailor.  I fix clothes.”  A short and sweet explanation.  “And you?” He sent the question back to the other bun.

“A farmer, I feed buns,” he answered in the same fashion. His eyes looked up at the cavern ceiling, it was dark since night had settled in. “Sure, I don’t mind seeing you again,” Harlow winked at Yama, teasingly. Then he made his face serious and said, “I’d like to think that something that happened once, does not mean it’ll happen again. Of course, it always could, but I’ll take my chances. Maybe I’m silly for that,” he spoke softly, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. Little wisps of clouds were drifting by, barely visible with the glowing crystals that lit up Burrowgatory.

“Does fixing clothes clear your mind?” He asked, almost out of the blue.

Yama’s eyes rest on Harlow, lingering for a moment as the other bun talks, it’s a little interesting the way that Harlow speaks.  Leave it up to chance, and interesting take.  Yama had honestly meant nothing by his little poke, had he never seen anyone at this party ever again, save for his date, he’d be just fine with that outcome. Again, he lets Harlow prattle on, letting out a noise to let the other know they had been heard.  Should they see each other again someday, outside this extravagant Gala, then so be it.  

“Clear my mind?  I’m not so sure, it’s just something I like to do.”  He replies, it’s not something he had typically reflected on.  “Does farming clear yours?” He counters,  shifting the topic onto Harlow instead of himself. 

As the question was directed back to him, he picked up the glass again and looked at it while he thought, “I think so. Something about methodical work helps.” Just as he was about to begin speaking again, there was a new sound and he looked up behind them where the clouds were drifting previously. 

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnuuuuuu BOOMF!

“Would you look at that,” said Harlow, “Angora really put it all in. She got fireworks.” Another one was shot up and exploded into a beautiful flower. The farmer stared in awe. It was not every day that he got to witness something like this. 

Yama’s eyes watch Harlow who is watching the fireworks, he says nothing about the display of pretty lights and loud booms.  Seemingly nothing impresses the tailor, perhaps he really just is that indifferent.  Yama seems to be thinking in the silence, weighing his options, he had been separated long enough from his date, hadn't he? It may be time to check on them again, and hope they’ve sobered up or chilled out to some extent in any case.

Shifting off from the ledge he had been leaning on, Yama cast a quick glance to the sky before addressing Harlow.  “I guess I should go see how my date is fairing.” The tailor finally states, giving a subtle bow to the other bun before striding off back into the clamor of the party.