#pstarter

“Luckily” Mason was already used to George and Lucy’s attitude to him. George was mainly indifferent to him, since he didn’t see Mason as either a threat or an equal, he didn’t go out of his way (usually) to pick him apart. Lucy did exacerbate Maria’s snark, while mostly giggling and speaking to her cousins behind her fan, so Mason rarely knew what she was talking about, but from the many glances he had caught coming in his own direction, he couldn’t imagine she had anything interesting to say, and just used his existence as something to talk and titter about. What on earth did she have to talk about when she didn’t seem to be whispering to Maria?

Since the Worthingtons themselves were amiable people, that was usually the friends they kept as well, so none of the Wallaces or Collins were particularly offensive to him. The only problem was that Mason felt particularly offended by their presence, despite this. The daughters of each family felt like they had been magically transformed, aged up specifically now to bat their eyelashes at Thomas and Edmund. He couldn’t blame them, not remotely, but something about their girlish excitement, flocking around Thomas like birds who had gotten much too used to being hand fed, it irked him. He felt annoyance prickling whenever he noticed it, and he didn’t know why he was being so sour. It wasn’t remotely because he was jealous of Thomas, he knew, since he didn’t want his own flock of admirers. He wouldn’t even know what to do with that many people curious about him, but he was sure he would have run away. No, he wasn’t jealous of Thomas. He did feel somewhat lonely though, but something - perhaps pride? - kept him from trying especially hard to socialize with the guests, amiable as they may be.

It was once such evening when the family, cousins, and guests, including Mr. Goddard, were all in the parlor, most of them playing card games with each other to amuse themselves and pass the time. Mason was, however, sitting in an armchair and was reading. The reading wasn’t going particularly well, however, as bits of chatter here and there would reach him and distract him. He eventually had to flick past pages before he was truly done with them, so no one thought he was a slow minded person. He had just been able to focus back in on his book when Maria’s boisterous laugh cut through his calm. She seemed so far away, but the wine had her particularly flushed and loud, and Mason pitied the people sitting right by her, if he could hear her so well. 

“Oh, yes! We must, absolutely! That would be such a way to pass the time! Mama!” She had turned to get her mother’s attention, reaching over to her table to pull at her shawl as if she was still a child. Seemed apt. “Mama, George and Lucy have just suggested the most thrilling of ideas! That we should perform a own play for you, and Aunt Norris, and The Mr. and Mrs. Wallace and Collins! How delightful!”

“Well, this is it, today’s the big day. Valentine’s Day. Do I order the heart shaped pizza, or that new one that’s like part calzone and is shaped like the Batman logo?”

“I caaaan’t fight this nyquil annnnymooooooreeee’ he began groggily croaking out. “He’re comes that sleep I’ve been fightin’ foooooor.”

“Not to be that guy,” Peter said closing his laptop after the ending credits finished. “But if I had the force, I’d totally yell ‘yeet’ every time I used it to fling anything across the room.”

“This is why I shouldn’t be left to my own devices.”