Charming Devil

Her lips curved upwards. “For all you know,” she countered. “I could be simply another plain woman walking around once midnight comes. Are you willing to take that chance?” She was not, of course, but he didn’t know that. The peacock shrugged her shoulders as she took another sip of her drink. “Are you?” she asked with an arched brow. “I’d suggest you prove it, but there’s little way to do so right now.”

Something about his tone made her think he was correct, made her think he was the type to live up to whatever expectation he chose to set. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “For neither do I. I exceed expectations in all areas.”

“Except you are not,” he said and then smirked. “I can tell. You are the most gorgeous thing in this room - or at least you think you are. And really, what’s the difference?” Quite a lot, probably. But he was happily treading the line between prince charming and arsehole - his favourite place to be. “That depends on what you classify as entertaining. Are you bored of our conversation so soon?”

“Do you have a thing for peacocks?” Her eyebrow rose as his eyes moved over her and a slight hint of color appeared on her cheeks, pleased at gaining his notice. “I certainly like having your attention now.” A playful little smile on her lips, a challenge, a tease, in her eyes. “Do you think you can keep mine?” 

“I do so hate being disillusioned.” Her lips twitched and the Peacock took another sip from her glass before setting it carefully onto the bar, her eyes focused on the Devil near her. “Oh, I don’t know yet. I suppose it depends on whether you turn out to be disappointing.” The or not hung in the air between them. 

“No. Only beautiful things,” he smiled when he saw the blush rising on her cheeks. But he shrugged his shoulders, not wishing to appear too keen, too eager. There was nothing more pathetic than a desperate man. And while she was lovely, she wasn’t the only beautiful woman in the room. “I’m the most entertaining thing in this place. If I cannot, no one will be able to.” 

“I will take that as a yes,” He chuckled and shook his head. “I never disappoint.”  

“No. I got them fitted by a muggle friend. They’ve got an interesting way of crafting them and they stuck without my needing to transfigure my teeth or anything.” They were reusable too but the vampire was already doing more talking than necessary. It didn’t feel necessary to go into that.

“Well that seems handy. Do look out for those bleeding hearts who will accuse you of mistreating vampires somehow, won’t you?” He thought a costume was just a costume, but he also knew there were a fair few social justice warriors roaming about.

“A pirate… I’d assumed it was obvious.” The pirate said gruffly, indicating the cutlass swinging at her side and her long coat. She was not overly happy to be here. If she could remember who she’d come with or why, she might go so far as to say she’d been coerced into coming. But perhaps she had come of her own accord. The pirate was still trying to decide whether she liked the mystery of not knowing who everyone was. The intrigue had her on edge but it might be nice just for one night.

She considered carefully the man in front of her - though it helped not at all when it came to determining his identity, “The horns are hardly a costume… who are you even supposed to be?”

“I do not like to make assumptions. You might have been a privateer, for example. Or a homeless person who stumbled upon a cutlass,” he shrugged a shoulder. He was quite certain he didn’t know this person, not that he had any reason to be so sure. But he assumed that anyone he knew would be happy purely because of the abundance of alcohol.

“The Devil,” he said easily. “Mephistopheles, perhaps. Though I am not too picky.” 

“The one and only,” Ella said, twisting her skirt ever so slightly so the butterflies would flutter. She felt his eyes on her and couldn’t help the blush that formed on her cheeks. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

“I couldn’t imagine why not,” she said looking up at them. “They’re rather stylish. You should get Twilfitt and Tattings to help you start a trend.” Winking at him, she couldn’t help but look down at her dress one more time. “Oh, goodness, no. I’m not nearly that talented. Actually, I found the designer while looking for a costume at the Opera house. A witch who specializes in gowns… And, she adds little touches. A touch of magic, here and there.” She smiled at him once more.

“No, I’m not,” he said. He wasn’t kind, and he didn’t see the point in pretending. 

“Oh no. I should hate to be anything so basic as trendy,” he said with a slight smile. He wasn’t really concerned about it. It wasn’t like just anybody could afford golden horns. Unless they were only inferior copies, but he didn’t much like the idea of being imitated. “What were you doing at the opera house?”

“Does it matter?” she asked, looking up at the man. Was he trying to look intimidating? Probably. Many men in their world liked to wear their power about them like a cloak, and he felt like one of them. The aura was recognizable. But hers was just as confident. “The important thing is that it looks good, isn’t it?” 

“It was only a question,” he said. She seemed defensive, and he couldn’t tell if she would be more offended if he said yes or no, so he didn’t take the bait when she asked if it looked good. “But if you do not want to talk about your costume we don’t have to. Have you got a drink?”

For a brief moment, the Peacock looked at him, trying to decipher if she could remember him. Surely she knew him? Was he…? But just as soon as the thoughts came, they went away, and she contented herself with a sip of her drink. “Quite.” A smile rose on her face, crinkles at the corner of her eyes. Her nose wrinkled briefly. “And yet here we are. Incredibly auspicious.” 

The question was valid, but the Peacock wasn’t sure what answer she wanted to give. “If I say yes, then the game is up as we try to discover how,” she pointed out. “And if I say no, then clearly one of us is not nearly as singular as we think.” Another sip. “So for now, I think I’ll enjoy myself and refrain from answering.” Her smile grew at the next comment. “That it would be. But the night isn’t over yet.”

“Well. It is to be expected. Though if you wanted my attention I doubt you could have found a better costume to do it with,” despite himself, his eyes kept glancing downward. Even if this wasn’t how she usually appeared, the Devil had a suspicion that the Peacock was still beautiful. She held herself in a way that someone lacking confidence in their appearance never could. 

“That is quite the predicament. But you might be right. It is preferable to wonder rather than hear something disappointing, don’t you think?” He smiled when she said she would enjoy herself, and that she did not make any effort to move away from him after she said it. He was clearly doing something right. “Do you have big plans for the evening?”

“I just feel money could have been spent better elsewhere” Hades told the devil, taking a sip of his drink. “The candles are fine, though chandeliers would have been nicer. I just think the pumpkins are a bit kitschy”

Not that Hades knew a lot about decor, however it just felt off. The concept was a good one, he enjoyed not recognizing faces. Including that of the man next to him, who was dressed well. Hades wondered if he could recognize him if he would know him. “I’m Hades” Hades explained taking another drink, “I figured if it was a costume party I needed something that wasn’t atrocious”  glancing at the other man a smirk appeared on his face, “A devil? Not outrageous but on theme, good idea”.

“Well you are probably correct. But then it is being run by a clothing store, and not even the most stylish one around,” he said with an easy shrug. 

“God of the Underworld. You know, they say great minds think alike,” he mused. Hades was not so different from the Devil, after all, though the other costume was not quite so obvious. The Devil at least had his golden horns. “Thank you. Some of the other costumes here are... interesting. I can’t help thinking that a more refined theme might have improved things.”

The party had been fabulous so far. Cinderella found herself dancing with people who she didn’t know, a thrilling concept for someone slightly intoxicated and loving the attention her dress brought. Wondering if she might meet a prince charming tonight was a sudden escape from the reality of her usual life. Ella didn’t generally think about love or anything resembling that concept. In fact, she tried to stay as far away from it as possible. But, tonight, she couldn’t help but think that a handsome stranger might be nice. Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, she twirled hearing the voice.

“Oh, Cinderella of course,” she said. “But my dress was not made completely from magic. Even if the butterflies are charmed to move. Let me guess… You went the devil route? Understated, but very handsome. Is it designer?”

“Like the muggle fairytale?” he asked, taking her comments about her dress as an invitation to allow his eyes to wander over her.  “It is quite breathtaking,” he said with a charming smile. 

“Thank you,” he said, and flashed her a smile. “These are one of a kind, actually. As it turns out, there is not much call for gold devil horns.  Twilfitt and Tattings helped me with them. Though I assume your dress was also not easy to find, unless you made it yourself of course.”

“With close friendships,” she stated, her smile still high on her face. “I am a firm believer in quality over quantity. Whether that’s personal relationships, alcohol, clothing, I’m sure you get the idea,” she said, her earrings, a gift, moving as she tilted her head. “And you should take it as one. I certainly don’t compliment everyone.”

Her eyebrows arched and her eyes widened imperceptibly. “Is it? I’ll have to remember that.” The Peacock lifted her glass again before responding. “Why should I be concerned? I most likely know everyone, or close to it. At least here I have a reason for ignoring those I find unworthy of my time.” The Peacock looked him in the eye. “And you?”

“Ah, a kindred spirit,” he said with a smile, quite certain that he had no idea who this person was. Surely he would recognise someone who thought so similarly to him, even with that stupid charm? “Such a rare and valuable thing to find.” 

“Really? And do you think you know who I am?” he asked, one brow quirking upwards. “No, I am not too bothered. Though it would be a pity not to discover who some people are before the night was over.”  

She needed a drink, and fast. It was the only way she’d be able to relax enough to enjoy this, which she supposed they intended to be enjoyed. It was surprisingly crowded, everyone she knew likely came, only she had no idea who she knew anymore. Edging her way to the bar, Barbie passed people she thought she knew, a sense of deja vu or maybe familiarity, as if in another life they’d been close. But that was the problem with these costumes, one had no idea who was a lover, a friend, family, or an enemy. A voice from behind her  caused Barbie to turn, startled. 

“Barbie, duh. And you are?”

“I don’t know what that is,” probably something muggle then. Or the girl was so young that it was a pop culture reference that he didn’t understand. Or both. “I am a devil. Hence the horns,” he said with a slight shrug. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a costume, but it was enough to get him in the door of the event and that was enough for him. 

“Dull, this party is horribly dull” Hades remarked as he took a sip from a glass of darkness. “Whomever thought floating candles and pumpkins were original decor should be fired, or killed. It’s a pity they skimped on quality decorations”. 

Swirling his drink around Hades eyes left the whirlpool of alcohol and soda to find his companion leaning against the far wall alongside him, “Next year I think I’d rather stay home and re-wallpaper my closet, it would be a much better use of my very important time”.

“If it’s too dull, it only means you haven’t found the right people yet,” the devil said with a smile. “Though I agree that the decor is somewhat lacking.” 

“Well that would be a shame for the rest of us,” he said, not sure whether he was being sarcastic or not. The man appeared to be in a well tailored suit, and in the Devil’s eyes that counted for something. “What are you supposed to be?”

The Vampire had opted for a red renaissance dress and fangs. The latter not noticeable unless she went out of her way to smile. It was a last resort after her friend backed out of wearing matching outfits. Not that that mattered since she couldn’t remember who she came with anyway. She couldn’t help thinking the costume was subpar in comparison to the others she saw.

“I’m a vampire.” She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Can’t you tell from the fangs?”

“I see,” he said. He thought the dress was nice, even if it was hideously old fashioned. But then he supposed that was probably the point of the costume. “I hadn’t noticed them before, my apologies,” he said. “Did you borrow them from an actual vampire?”

“My closest friends are,” she said with a smile. “Though I suppose they account for only two percent of everyone I actually know.” She took another sip, the alcohol rushing over her tongue. “I suppose I should assume, based on your aforementioned comment, that you are observant. Certainly a worthy conversationalist.”

“Resplendent is nice. It’s certainly not a word you hear very often. And I have to admit that I appreciate a man with a good vocabulary.”

“Well it is good to be discerning when it comes to friendships,” he said, giving her the benefit of the doubt that she knew a great many people and not that she had very few friends. She seemed confident enough of herself, so he felt comfortable making the assumption that she was generally well liked. “Thank you. I will take that as a compliment.”

“Well I can assure you that mine is superlative,” he allowed the sentence to hang, allowing her to make of it what she would. “You do not seem concerned to not know anyone here.”

The Peacock appreciated that he backed up his charming smile with intelligence. “Most people I know,” she pointed out, taking the glass the bartender slid her way. “Wouldn’t even know the difference between a male and a female.” Her smile was genuine, playful, and she took a sip out of her glass, lipstick leaving only the barest trace on the glass. “You must be special.” The words were spoken lightly and she turned toward him.

“Glorious, you said?” she asked, smile deepening.

“Well it sounds as though most people you know might not be particularly observant,” he said with a shrug. Though he smiled when she complimented him - or at least, he assumed it was a compliment. 

“I did, yes,” he smirked, “Would you prefer a different descriptor? Resplendent, perhaps? Or gorgeous?” 

“A unicorn,” the girl said with a bright smile. “Well, a Pegacorn, actually. Because I have a horn and wings?” She half turned to show the man what she mean. “I already know what you are, of course. It’s fairly obvious.”

“A Pegacorn,” he repeated like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. It was a ridiculous costume, but he had to admit she looked cute. Pity he wasn’t interested in cute. “And what do you suppose I am?”

“Can’t you tell darling?” the blonde smiled up at him. “I’m a deer. See the tail?” she turned, wiggling her hips on purpose. She had seen the look in his eyes. He was looking for trouble, and who was she to ruin his fun?

“Well with those antlers I thought you might be a buck,” he drawled, his eyes only glancing towards her tail for a moment before he took a sip of his drink. “Why a deer?”