c. cogsworth

Name: Claude Cogsworth Species: Cursed Human  Sexuality: Homosexual Pronouns: He/Him Favorite Song: tolerate it by Taylor Swift  Big Three: Capricorn sun, Capricorn moon, Virgo rising  Location: Echo Creek

"Blaise, for goodness sake, we’re going to be late,” he groaned, but before he knew it Claude was being pulled into his friend’s bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He instinctively went to go check his watch, but groaned in frustration at the hands that were perpetually stuck at twelve. “What time did you say it was, seven? I’m giving you half an hour, got it? Compromise.” It was only because the previous night had been so restless that Claude even entertained the idea of going back to bed. “Come on, scooch,” he ordered, sliding off his jacket and settling into the bed. “Do you have an iron handy? I’m going to have to go over this shirt once more before we go to work, if you don’t mind. How foolish would I look with a wrinkled shirt?” Claude let out a yawn, laying his head on the pillow beside Blaise’s. “Seven thirty. Not a minute more.”

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It was a risk to ask Claude such a question, but Paul couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was the liquid confidence that pushed it, or maybe it was his conversations with Meg and Blaise. Regardless, they didn’t want to play guessing games with Claude forever. They wanted to know where he stood. “Hey, neither of us had anything bad to say,” Paul chuckled, noticing Claude’s discomfort at the thought. “If Meg’s got a man, I had to meet him, y’know? Just happened to be your best friend too..” They were still getting used to that, how both their worlds seemed to collide the way they did. 

Paul nodded in agreement — they were both very guarded, but Paul had good reason. Being a demon and working for Harold surely would make anyone that way. They weren’t entirely sure Claude’s reasons, but he was sure there had to be one deep down. Claude’s next question made Paul immediately take a swig from his drink, needing it to tell him what Blaise had asked. He wasn’t sure he was prepared, himself. “He uh …” they chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of their neck with their free hand, “He asked if you were in love with me or something. I didn’t — didn’t know what to say, obviously. It’s a touchy subject, I think …” He took another swig to help with the tension, clearing his throat. “But uh … yeah. Blaise is a … a pretty straightforward guy, huh? He really wanted to get straight to the point …” @claudecogsworth​

Claude supposed that was fair enough. He had almost gone out of his way to meet Meg, but she had found him first, approaching him rather aggressively at the host stand when she had come by, looking for Blaise. She seemed like the first woman in a while who could hold her own with his friend, though he supposed not even the strongest of women could withstand the pain of Blaise’s idiocy. Claude couldn’t blame her, but he knew that Blaise had made a grave mistake, wronging her like that. “What’s that saying? It’s a small world, something like that. I suppose mine is much smaller than I had previously thought,” he agreed with a small shrug.

Lost in a bit of thought, it was love that had brought Claude’s attention back to them, nearly choking at what Blaise had told them. “He said what?” he asked, needing repetition just to make sure he had heard them right. “I hope you don’t think--I mean, I’ve never really been in love with anyone, for the record.” What authority Blaise had to say something like that to Paul, Claude didn’t know, but he would surely be hearing an earful about it later. “He doesn’t know when to shut up, if that’s what you mean. I’m terribly sorry he overstepped and said something like that.”

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It was a risk to ask Claude such a question, but Paul couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was the liquid confidence that pushed it, or maybe it was his conversations with Meg and Blaise. Regardless, they didn’t want to play guessing games with Claude forever. They wanted to know where he stood. “Hey, neither of us had anything bad to say,” Paul chuckled, noticing Claude’s discomfort at the thought. “If Meg’s got a man, I had to meet him, y’know? Just happened to be your best friend too..” They were still getting used to that, how both their worlds seemed to collide the way they did. 

Paul nodded in agreement — they were both very guarded, but Paul had good reason. Being a demon and working for Harold surely would make anyone that way. They weren’t entirely sure Claude’s reasons, but he was sure there had to be one deep down. Claude’s next question made Paul immediately take a swig from his drink, needing it to tell him what Blaise had asked. He wasn’t sure he was prepared, himself. “He uh …” they chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of their neck with their free hand, “He asked if you were in love with me or something. I didn’t — didn’t know what to say, obviously. It’s a touchy subject, I think …” He took another swig to help with the tension, clearing his throat. “But uh … yeah. Blaise is a … a pretty straightforward guy, huh? He really wanted to get straight to the point …” @claudecogsworth·

Claude had of course met Meg, and she seemed to be the only one who could keep up with Blaise and his attitude. She was stubborn in her own right, and had a backbone unlike one he had ever seen on one of Blaise’s women. He had hope for her, more than he had when it came to who was seeing his best friend. “I understand. I had to look out for my friend, too, which was why I had to meet miss Meg myself. Or, rather, she came into the restaurant looking for him, and I couldn’t help but introduce myself.” He thought back to when he’d met Meg at the host stand, how confident and forward she was with her introduction.

“In love with you?” he repeated, nearly choking on his words. Claude was nowhere near to being in love with them, but he was starting to like them. Leave it to Blaise to ruin a spark. “He has no filter, you should know. I fear you’ve already seen that, though.” Claude hesitated, debating how much he should give away. Opening up, that was the point, wasn’t it? “I don’t really share any romantic endeavors with any of my friends. I’m a rather private person when it comes to anyone, really. I haven’t said much of a word about you, though, since I know you’re friends with Meg, and I know Blaise would just stick his nose in my business if I did. So, since I’m being extra secretive, he thinks it’s extremely serious.”

“Whiskey would be grand.” It was better than Blaise’s questioning on who the man was or why he would be meeting him in the first place. Claude didn’t like to disclose any of his romantic endeavors with friends, which he knew wasn’t the best practice, but neither of them really asked, either. It was a don’t ask, don’t tell arrangement that he tried to keep up his end of. “You don’t need to know, it’s quite fine. Nothing’s official, and you know I won’t introduce anyone until then,” Claude reminded him. “You know, we should talk about this Hopper fellow and his deal while we’re at it, before you make any final decisions. I heard he and our supplier, the Dreyfus girl, are in business together. Rather odd, don’t you think? What do you suppose the two of them have going on? I didn’t pin her for someone who was involved in all of that.”

Claude had been called a lot of things in his life, including someone with a stick up his ass, but he could never say that buddy was included in the list. He wasn’t sure that Ryan was someone he’d consider a buddy, but he would take what he could get. “You think so?” he questioned, a brow raised as he leaned against the bar. He wasn’t really talking about being drunk on anything material than the drinks they’d had, but rather something immaterial. Claude was in his head, drunk with a little bit of confusion and a lot of longing. Whether it was yearning for the blonde in front of him or someone else, he wasn’t currently sure, but he would take his chances for now. “You know, I didn’t really mean literally. I don’t know, maybe I did. Is it not noble to want to be drunk on something that only exists in one’s head instead?” he asked, a bit cryptic but still true. 

“Well, of course I can see that. Obviously, the gold silverware is far better than the silver and the matte. Can we afford it, though?” Claude pondered aloud, pacing between tables as he stared at the potential new place settings. It was time to switch them out, and with business doing well recently, he figured the restaurant could afford it. Celine was one of the only of their friends with an eye for design like this, and he’d promised her coffee if she could come and help in the morning. “I think we’ll go with the gold. You know, you need to invest to get return, something like that.” Claude took a seat beside her, taking a sip from his coffee cup. “Thank you for your help on this, I do appreciate it. I just need to choose placemats now that we’ve chosen silverware. Maybe something light blue or lavender. What do you think?”

@celinepotts

Claude had never heard something so sensitive and soft come out of his best friend. Maybe it was Belle who was making him this way, but he was glad to see it. It was clear that she had changed him for the better, and Claude’s only regret was that he hadn’t warmed up to her sooner. “That’s quite a nice way to put it.” Though neither one of them had ever been very soft, there had been rare moments like these where they’d opened up before. It had just taken more time to reach that this time around. “I don’t know what it is that’s shifted in you, but I quite like this new Adam, I have to say. Not that the old one was any worse, just different.” He gave him a sincere smile and a nod before giving a cough to change the subject. “Sorry, I don’t mean to, uh, harp on it. We can talk about the new brunch now.”

@masterofhisfate

“Yes, I--well, Blaise told me the two of you spoke, so I suppose that gives me a bit of an unfair advantage.” Claude wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation that he’d only heard about. He had hoped that Paul would be able to tell him more about what they’d talked about instead of relying on his best friend’s recollection. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t ... you’re a rather guarded person, as am I.” He had thought a lot about how maybe they could be that person for each other, to break each other open and see inside each other, but Claude wasn’t very good at taking the first step. “What did the two of you talk about, anyway? He wouldn’t say much. He wanted me to ask you, instead.” He was reluctant to admit that Blaise had essentially forced him into talking to them, but if he was going to try this opening up thing, Claude supposed he would have to take the first step at some point. At least this one was small.

@paulpanics

“You know I can’t tell the time, right? Come on, we have to do brunch.” Claude was at Blaise’s place bright and early, ready to go, while it seemed like his friend was not quite as ready to start the work day. With their new brunch schedule, he was having trouble keeping up with being awake, and typically stayed awake through most of the night since he couldn’t use an alarm like a normal human. He was more on edge than ever, but the brunch schedule was also helping make some untapped revenue. “Do you need me to splash a bucket of water on you or something? Late night? Let’s go,” he huffed, pulling the blankets out from over his friend in bed. Thank goodness he’d been given a key when this began to be a recurring theme. “You’re lucky the call time for your sous chefs was an hour ago so they can start prepping.”

@blaiselumiere

Clair de lune by Claude Debussy

Paul was trying to read Claude’s expression, noticing he was looking a little more uneasy than usual. Typically, it was Paul who was the anxious one, but that didn’t mean he was anywhere near calm right now. They weren’t sure if Claude’s demeanor should make him more uneasy or not. He nodded, glad that at least he was familiar with the posts. Paul was still getting used to all of this. “Right, I remember we talked about it before,” they replied, continuing, “Kinda weird, huh? How we were just talking about that, and then .. We were mentioned next.” He didn’t like the connection, feeling like something strange was afoot. “I haven’t. Meg and I work together, but I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend ‘til recently,” they admitted, shrugging. Paul was always just out of the loop, but now they felt like they should start paying more attention. “Oh, yeah. Just be happy he isn’t your brother,” he chuckled. “That’s definitely worse.”

Claude wasn’t sure what they were suggesting, but he certainly had no idea who the person behind the blog could be. If he did, he would’ve stopped them from printing things about he and his friends. “The timing is awfully strange, but I wouldn’t think anything of it. There are eyes and ears everywhere--it could’ve been anyone.” He was used to it by now, but Paul clearly wasn’t. It had taken him a long while to become accustomed, but it seemed like they were both just victims of who they kept as company. “You know, I haven’t ever seen him so ... domesticated, I suppose. Also, happy. She makes him happy.” He was right: it would be far worse if the Cogsworth name had been tarnished any further. “I can’t imagine. I can hardly keep up when they’re just friends. It has gotten in the way of business, though.”

“Oh, I’m not truly offended, Claude. It is gonna take a lot more to really get under my skin. Not that I’m against that.” He winked at him. “My night has been rather boring. Another party, no one interesting to see this round. I mean, until you, of course. You intrigue me far too much to call you a bore.” He chuckled. “I think it’s cute that you think I’m that interesting. Maybe I’ve been putting too good of a show on for you. I have been told that I’m a bit of a rather…enthusiastic storyteller.” Or a straight up liar. Both were true. “So I assume you didn’t get yourself a hot date for this, then?”

Claude truly wasn’t sure where Charlie’s interest in him had sparked, but it had been strange. He’d never really had so much attention on him at once from another guy, or so he hadn’t thought. “Me?” he repeated, letting out a laugh. “No, I didn’t have any sort of date planned. I’m not the luckiest in love, or lust, if I’m being honest, which is why I’m rather confused every time you approach me,” Claude admitted. It had to be the whiskey that was making him so honest. “Not that I’m not appreciative of it, though. You’re rather good company, if I do say so.”

//closed starter @claudecogsworth·

Hopper walked into the fine establishment known for its controversies and delicious food. He wasn’t one to follow any gossip, but he thought he’d like to take in as much information as he could get. To find a strategic place for his dealings was essential, though he could tell this place was not for scoundrels and the like. It was a place for someone like him—refined and yet a little rough around the edges. It’s the kind of place you’d proudly bring a girl over to impress, if it weren’t for the slow service he was experiencing at the moment. Hopper clicked his fingers, catching the attention of a staff. “Fine gentleman, I understand that excellence takes time. Tell me, how much more time do I have to waste? ” He said it in a calm, rather friendly voice. He liked the establishment, but he hated to wait more than he anticipated.

Once the food was served, he had his fill. Hopper asked the gentleman to come over, making right with him as necessary. “I may have lost patience, though I have to say, I’m still pleasantly surprised with the quality. Tell me, is this restaurant something you wish to expand?” He was genuinely curious, though Hopper was thinking more along the lines of being an investor. “With a little alteration, of course.” He leaned back in his chair, observing the man in front of him. 

The wait tonight at the restaurant was long, and Claude was dealing with a slew of unhappy customers. These were the nights he hated the most, but at least he had a smiling, young female face by his side to help at the host stand. He hated disappointing people, and most of all, he hated angry customers coming up to him to yell about their shortcomings of not booking a reservation. Claude knew the man who had come to the stand to be a powerful one, though, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset him. 

After seating the man at a table that had been canceled on immediately, Claude made sure to tell Blaise to get his food out as quickly as he could. He’d been waved over as he finished his plate, and all Claude could hope was that all had gone well. “I’m so sorry I had to keep you waiting, sir. I’m glad the quality of the food didn’t disappoint.” His eyes widened a bit at his question, truthfully unsure how to respond without Adam’s thoughts. “That’s quite an offer. Regrettably, I’m not the owner, but I can certainly pass it along--Adam Beaufort is his name.”

Ophelia appreciated how much Claude was straight to the point. She missed him and his frazzled way of being. She honestly just missed her old life more than anything. But she knew she couldn’t bare going back to it, even though Adam told her she could if she wished to. Things were just too different now and she was different. “My new job is interesting. Full of pigish men, of course. But I handle myself just fine. I do believe my boss is not someone Adam is very friendly with and I know it’s probably a little wrong of me to work there….but for the first time in a while I feel like I’m being appreciated. Which sounds so ridiculous, I know.” She sighed. “I am glad to hear that things are going alright, though. I will always have a soft spot for that place and the people in it.”

While Claude never tried to befriend Fifi, that didn’t mean he agreed with the way that his two friends treated her. He was glad to hear that whatever she was doing had led to feeling more appreciated in her work and in life itself. “Well, unfortunately there are pigish men wherever you go, I’m afraid. I do hope there are less of them, though, of course.” Claude gave her a smile, hoping that she at least felt welcome enough to share how she was doing. “It’s not ridiculous to want to feel appreciated in your work. I often struggle with the same. Guests don’t like to be nice to the fellow who keeps them waiting, you know.”

Charlie pouted. “Are you saying I’m a bit of a partier? Ouch.” He was a little bummed that he wasn’t drunk yet. Charlie was dreadfully curious to see how the man acted when he wasn’t being so tense. Charlie was sure he could help him out though. He had offered his services many times, but tonight he really was feeling lucky. “Oh I know how that feels. Not that you would be able to tell when I’m feeling that way,” he said winking at him.  “I’m a fan of whatever my company is having. I don’t really have a drink that I don’t dislike.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend. Just more so than I am, that’s all. Nothing wrong with that.” Charlie just further proved his point with his next one. If he was this chaotic while he was sober, Claude was a tad afraid to see him drunk. With that, though, he turned toward the bartender, informing him that he’d be switching from liquor to wine. “How has your night been before this? Mine has been rather uneventful until you showed up, actually. Though, I will say, I have a feeling your answer might be different. You seem to have interesting things follow wherever you go.”

Adam had been thankful his life had calmed down, despite him and Blaise not talking which was taking a bit of a toll on Adam. He was dealing with things just fine though, thank you very much. “Cheers,” Adam said back to his friend and held up his own glass of whiskey. “Yeah, sounds like a done deal.” He let out a small laugh. “I wouldn’t really say it’s ‘putting up with you’ so much as I’m stuck with you,” he joked. “In all seriousness though, I’m glad to have you around. I think I’d lose my head if it weren’t for you.” He glanced over across the room, trying to spot Belle but couldn’t find her in the crowd. “She’s around. She ran into a friend and is chatting. Haven’t seen her in a while. You know how she gets.” He smiled at the thought of her then shot his friend a look. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “Are you going to share a ‘smooch’ with anyone tonight?”

Adam seemed quite happy tonight, which was a rare sight as of late. He had been rather stressed around the holidays with the restaurant finally getting back to capacity, which had gotten Claude quite anxious, too, but they’d pulled it off. “Well, stuck with me sounds like someone’s forcing you into my company, which I hope you don’t agree with,” he retorted playfully. At this point in their lives, they were quite stuck with each other, the three of them. “She’s quite social, yes. One of the most people-loving people I’ve ever met.” At first, he thought that it was annoying, but now, he found it quite endearing. “You know we don’t speak of this subject. Absolutely not. Honestly, probably not, either. I might go home and retire before midnight.”