[b]Jonas Landvick (& friends)

8:54 pm[/b]

Time passed strangely for Jonas, for obvious reasons. As he stood by one of the walls away from the main bulk of the crowd, the other guests seemed to be huge room-sized blob. A blob made of tuxedos and dresses and noise. The atmosphere had been building to a boiling point for some time now, but it went unnoticed by Jonas, who simply stood there bobbing to the music stuck in his head, warm in the face and his limbs tingling all over. There was a nearly drained glass of something in his right hand, but couldn't remember what it was or how it had gotten there. All he knew was that he was having a darn good time. 

A familiar face appeared in his field of view, escaping from the colorful blob of people. A woman in a dark green dress, one of the other [i]special guests[/i]. When he saw her approaching, he pointed at her with his drink-hand and greeted her. ““Heeeeeey! How’s it goin’....uh...sorry, I think I forgot your name already.” Jonas grinned sheepishly at her, feeling a little silly for not remembering her name. 

The young woman was manuevering through the crowd carefully, holding her head high as if to escape from the tall men around her. She had somehow managed to reach him without spilling her flute of champagne, which was full. "Oh, hi!" She laughed a little, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Evelynn, sir. I remember you were one of us who got dragged here...James? Johnson?” Evelynn stared at him intently, trying to recollect his name. "Ah! Jones! Err...Jones?"

“Jon-as.” Jonas answered helpfully, waving the drink in his hand around as he gestured pointlessly. “Like Joan, and...ass. Only less dumb...or maybe it's Joan and us?” Jonas paused in his ridiculous explanation, eyes resting on the crowd for a moment. The outfits and colors seemed to blend together, and all of the movements became blurs. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear haze. “Geez. Lemme tell yah, don’t go crazy on those yellow drinks...y’know, if yah see ‘em.” Jonas blinked again, his eyelids feeling heavy. “...oh, and don’t try to out drink, uhh…” Jonas craned his neck around, trying to find Sol in the room and point him out. He seemed to be gone though, along with most of the family. Giving up, he finished his thought. “...Sol. Don’t go drinkin’ with him.”

"Joan-ass." Lynn repeated the phrase sound for sound and laughed a bit at it. She seemed to be relaxing, at least as far as he could tell. His faculties were slipping away by the minute. "I'll make sure to remember it, Jonas. And huh, yellow drinks..." Her voice trailed for a moment as she cocked her head disbelievingly. Once Jonas mentioned Sol however, she returned her gaze again. "Will keep in mind. Why, did you go drinking with him?" Lynn smirked at him, eyebrows raised. "If he's the reason you're like this, Jonas my boy, I would do well to be very careful...him and those...uh, very dangerous sounding yellow drinks." She sounded like she was joking, maybe even a little sarcastic. Jonas didn't really mind, however. "Nice to meet you more formally though. I...think." Jonas was stuggling to hear her voice now as the noise of the crowd rose over it. She started to ask him, "So, what brings you he-"

“Shall I take that, sir?” Felix suddenly appeared next to them, gesturing to the now empty glass in Jonas' hand. 

Shrugging, Jonas handed it over and said, “Pff, sure. Whatever boats yer float.” as Felix took it and strolled away, dissappearing into the crowd again. Jonas watched him go, turned to Evelynn and asked, “He’s French, right? Not German like ever'body else? Here, I mean.”

"Yup, and he's pretty quiet too, isn't he? And speaking of..." Lynn leaned in closer to Jonas, speaking a little quieter and looking a little nervous. "There are way too many German people in this house. Not that we're not in...uh. Germany, land of the Germans, but...I dunno. Anything seem odd to you?"

Jonas squinted at the floor, trying to shut out distractions as he pondered. Memories from his earlier curiosity flooded back to him in a jumbled mess. “Oh, me and Kim found like...fambly history books in the library. But one of ‘em was missin’. The latest one, I think. And uh...my GPS went missin’. Other ‘n that…” He trailed off and shrugged again, losing his balance a little. Jonas then looked around the room, searching for a clock. “I think the ball’s startin’ soon.”

"I see...that's a little odd, about your GPS. I dunno, so many guests here, maybe someone borrowed the book earlier? Probably the old bearded guy, or the other one we hadn't seen a lot of...depends. They might have gotten there earlier. But if that's not the case...spooky." Jonas watched as she finally took the plunge and tried the champagne, shuddering a little at its taste. "I could have sworn this here would have been grand enough, haha...but we're not even in the ballroom yet." Lynn swept her hair behind her ear, fiddling with it as it got caught up in her earring. "At least we're all in this together, right? You seem all right, Jonas." She smirked up at the taller man and nodded. "I look forward to hearing more when we're more alone...and you're more sober, haha."

As the ball room doors opened at the other end of the room, Jonas treated Evelynn to a double thumbs up, affirming everything she had said. As all the other guests piled into the ball room, Jonas went with the tide, carried off in the flow of people.

[b]At the Ball, 9:17pm[/b]

Ever since the doors to the ball room opened, Jonas had been in a whirl. Every assault on his senses was dulled, as if he was seeing through a filter. Time passed, he didn't know how much. There were little things he remembered through the whirlpools of color and light. He could vaguely recall stumbling up to the orchestra and requesting [i]Freebird[/i]. He remembered trying to tighten his bow tie, and succeeding only in taking it off and losing it. He also remembered a feeling of majesty at seeing the ball room for the first time, but all of that took a back seat. At the moment, Jonas saw their host, Sol, taking a break from dancing. He had been debating about going over to say hello when Jonas' legs made the decision for him, weaving shakily through the crowd and towards the millionaire who had seen fit to invite them all here. 

Jonas moved through the crowd, his earlier drinking affecting him more with every step he took, or so it seemed. Everything was warm, and slightly numbing. The floor seemed to shift underneath him as he finally was within earshot of Sol. Jonas spoke to him, the words tumbling out. “Heya, Mr- uh, Sol. You’re havin’ fun, I guess, then.”

“Hey man, you having a good time?” Sol asked, ignoring Jonas' question.

“Well, uh-” Without warning, Sol's arm was on Jonas' shoulders, pushing rather than guiding him to the group of people Sol had apparently just been talking to. It was a small group, but they seemed affluent, social, and fashionable. If Jonas hadn't been so hammered, he'd have been intimidated. 

“Everyone, this is Jonas.”

Jonas shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, having some trouble getting his balance back after Sol moved him so suddenly. He offered the group a hip high and shy little wave. “Hiya. Quite a...deal here. Fancy ball.” He grinned at them, though his eyelids felt heavy again. A few of the group hid smirks behind their hands.

Sol then leaned in a bit closer to his friends, and said something in German. Whatever it was, it was apparently very funny, because the other Germans laughed heartily along with Sol. Jonas blinked, confused, before he chuckled a little himself, not wanting to feel left out of the joke. Trying to get Sol's attention, Jonas accidentally poked the man's shoulder while trying to point at him and asked, “How're you doin’? D’you folks party like this all the time?”

Sol grinned at him and poked him right back before patting Jonas' shoulder, as if trying to steady the American himself. “You’re crazy, right? Only twice a year, man: this one, and on on the solstice. How much time do you think it takes to get all these people here?” He spoke in German to his friends again, and again they laughed, snicking at whatever he had said. 

Jonas squinted into the middle distance, thinking about it. He wondered why everyone seemed set on making him answer hard questions tonight. “Uhhm...well, if yuh'got other people help you call everybody...I dunno. I guess, a long time bunnot too long?” Suddenly he realized that the question was a hypothetical one; Sol didn't really expect him to guess how much time it took to get people here. Jonas giggled at himself, putting a hand on his face. “Pfffffff, you didn’t really mean- hah! I gotcha.”

Sol closed the small amount of distance between them, resting an arm on his shoulder, as if he was presenting the American to his German friends. Jonas was a good deal taller than Sol, but he still felt small, and not a little passive. Sol spoke in German again to his friends, still laughing. That's when his situation finally dawned on him despite his drunken hopes to the contrary: [i]They were laughing at him. [b]He[/b] was the joke.[/i] And he was making enough of an ass of himself without Sol's ridicule.

“I think I’m drinkin’ too much...or not enough.” Jonas mumbled, his eyes darting from his own shoes to the floor, wishing a hole leading to anywhere else would open up beneath him. 

Sol clapped him on the shoulder, hard. “No, man, you were hilarious earlier!” He spoke in German yet again, though Jonas could barely make out one word. [i]Prost.[/i]

Jonas laughed weakly, just trying to make his escape away from these people. This felt far too much like high school for his taste. “Yah, that was fun...but uh, look I’m gonna get some water or somethin’-” He started to pull away from them before the heavy arm of Sol intervened again, pulling him back. 

“Hey, hey, I haven’t seen you dance yet! Katrin-” Sol gestured to one of the women in his group. She was lovely, well dressed, and barely suppressing a giggle behind her hand as Sol brought her forward. “hasn’t ever danced with an American before!”

Jonas' eyebrows raised with worry; he was [b]not[/b] a dancer, especially not right now. A slow dance was all he could manage at his soberest. “Oh no, I can’t dance. I really really can’t-” Despite his protestations, Sol lightly pushed Jonas in Katrin's direction, who was waiting for him in an open spot in the crowd. She seemed to be doing her utmost not double over from laughter as Jonas stumbled and stood in front of her awkwardly, paralyzed and limp with reluctance and impairment. From behind him, Sol moved Jonas' arms into a closed position appropriate for a waltz and forced the two together. 

Unfortunately for Jonas, the waltz was an energetic one. If it had not been up tempo, he might have fared better, but as it was the first spin was enough. The turn was quick, and it turned his world into a watercolor kaleidoscope. The lights in the room blended in with the party-goers surrounding them, melting into a giant smear of color as Jonas' world spun every which way. It was a spin, but it felt more like a round of carnival rides. Jonas predictably lost his footing, though whether his foot became tangled with hers or if his tripped over himself he didn't know. Either way, he tumbled. Jonas was sent careening into another woman who had been dancing, and he soon found himself in a messy heap on the dance floor. 

He laid there on the floor like a pile of dirty laundry, staring at the floor. The sound of Sol, Katrin and the others laughing rang in his ears muddily. Sol leaned down and tried to pick Jonas up, but only succeeded in bringing him up halfway before dropping him in another fit of laughter. After being dropped, Jonas' eyes were now facing the ceiling and those standing around him. Sol, Katrin, and the woman he ran into. One of the twins. She glared down at him, her face turning sour. Jonas could hear her talking to Sol as Jonas managed very slowly and carefully to stand himself up. 

“[i]Offenbar muss jemand ihn unterrichten,[/i]” Lena said, sounding more light-hearted than angry when she spoke to Sol. After Jonas was finally on his feet, she took him into a waltz hold, leading, and danced away from Sol and his friends. When they were far enough away, Lena's glare focused on Jonas again. She was clearly very agitated with him. “Don’t apologize, we’re pretending it didn’t happen. Now we dance until Sol starts on something else, and then you will sober up and I will have a damn cigarette. Understand?”

Jonas sighed, hanging his head miserably as she gently waltzed around the room with him, presumably moving towards an exit. “...yah. Thanks umm...Dena. Or Lena.”

“I warned you about him.” She said, answering his question. It was definitely Lena. 

“I know. I shoulda…I’m not usually like this, I'swear.” Jonas mumbled, his voice sounding small.

For a few minutes they danced, slowly so he wouldn't fall again. Lena was helping him, he could tell that she was very close to openly scowling. He couldn't really blame her. Dealing with drunk people was never much fun. Soon though, she had guided him to the door leading out of the ball room and to the entrance hall. Just grateful to be out of the room and away from the crowd, Jonas waited while Lena opened the door to the kitchen. It opened outward, and a hook with a keyring on it was on the other side of the door. She took the keys and closed the door, pretending to make conversation with him just in case anyone was listening. 

She unlocked the door to one of the lounges, checking around and inside to make sure no one was near.  When she saw that there was no one else, Lena led him Jonas into the lounge and sat him down in the nearest chair, leaving for a moment only to return with a pitcher of water and a glass. “Lock up and put the keys back when you're done.” She said, leaving the keys and the water on a nearby table. With that, she left quickly, closing the door behind her and leaving the grateful but inebriated man in her wake.

“Mmkay.” Jonas said pitifully to the empty room, sinking into the chair.