#alasdair3

[gwyndolence]

"Good," Gwyn beamed with satisfaction, more than happy to squirrel the pretty nephilim away with him for the night, "I had just an inkling, but validation is a lovely treat." A quick fiddle with his keys and the sith let them both into his suit, actually somewhat organized for the night, or at least with enough room for them to cozy up on the couch with an actual line of sight to the television.

Gwyn fluttered around Alasdair excitedly the second the door closed behind them, taking the new jacket for just a moment, "Strip for me quickly, darling, just toss those greys on the sofa. I want to give you the rest of your present," He realized the implications a second later, bursting out into laughter at his own words, shuffling off to the side with the jacket slung over his arms like a dutiful butler. "No funny business! Not yet. But you deserve some clothes of your own and I have obscenely many. What'd you want to have around to wear more than absolutely anything else?"

Falling in line with Gwyn's step, Alasdair couldn't help but smirk at just how extra the sith was sometimes. In the best way possible, of course. "Nothing to fancy is absolutely fine," Dair agreed, not wanting to be wined and dined in some fancy shmancy restaurant -- that just wasn't his style. The thought of being able to just chill at Gwyn's and order whatever the fuck he wanted was exactly what Dair was into. "Honestly? Doing fuck all in your room and ordering whatever I want sounds absolutely ideal," he said with a grin as they walked. "But you knew that already, huh?"

[gwyndolence]

"Twenty-six!" Gwyn exclaimed, his brows flying up as he looked towards the nephilim, "You must be joking. I know your kind ages fast, but that seems unreasonable." The sith was galivanting towards his third century rapidly and still barely felt like he'd dipped a toe into full adulthood. Then again, perhaps his circumstance was slightly stranger than a typical fae... "'Nothing too fancy', we can easily do," Gwyn said matter-of-factly as they walked through the halls, "Unless you want fancy?" He flashed Alasdair a speculative grin, "I can always bully us into dinner at some swanky place downtown. Is that more your style?" He thought not, but it was fun to tease the young man either way. "Because my plan was letting you order whatever you wanted up to my room and spending the evening doing very little at all. Your choice, of course."

Despite not expecting anyone to come and rescue him from the dreariness of the undercroft, Alasdair had hoped that someone would. The fact that Gwyn was the one to do it was just icing on the cake since he could relax around the sith. He smiled as he admired the feeling of the leather jacket, feeling better already despite still being dressed in the standard issue undercroft clothing. A little smirk tugged at Dair's lips as he looked at Gwyn, happy to go along with it when he felt the other's arm hook his own, the sith starting to lead him out of the undercroft. "I remember pretty much all of mine since this is only my twenty-sixth," Alasdair chuckled. "Usually just go for a meal with my parents or something, nothing too fancy," he explained. A lot of the time it ended up just being him and his father, but his mother made the effort to be around when she could. He couldn't help but think about the fact she was likely going out of her mind with worry since he'd disappeared.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn was deeply pleased by the happiness that overtook the nephilim's face when he spied the sith. "Oh, one of them," He hummed, grinning as Dair slipped it on over the plain Undercroft greys, already looking better though the outfit was certainly not yet complete. They'd get to that. The jacket wasn't new, far from it, Gwyn had pried it out of his own pile of vintage after an exhausting hunt and known at once where it belonged. The leather was long broken in, soft and supple, and the young master looked exceedingly pleased with the effect as he smoothed his hands over Alasdair's shoulders. "Your wish is my command," Gwyn tittered, quick to hook his arm with one of the nephilim's and lead him up and out of that dreary little place, "How do you usually spend this day, my darling? I'll confess, I don't usually remember most of mine."

Alasdair couldn't help the way his face lit up when he realised it was Gwyn that had come to find him, a grin spreading across his features. Maybe his birthday wouldn't be so bad after all. Dair was still as hostile as ever with every other master, but he'd become fond of Gwyn in the few months he'd been at the castle. He smirked at the leather jacket in the sith's hands, getting to his feet and gently kicking away the stone he'd been using to etch the floor. "Is this my birthday gift? You shouldn't have," he teased, taking hold of the jacket before slipping it on, moving his arms and shoulder a little just to make sure it fit him.. which it did. Very nicely. Probably didn't go with his undercroft 'fit but he was sure he could sort that later. "That sounds like a great offer, lead the way. Get me the fuck outta here for a while."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn whistled merrily as he wound his way between the dormitory beds on his hunt, not exactly going for stealth when the clomp of his boots or the jingling of the little chains dangling off the sith's beltloops would herald his approach from a mile away. He wasn't sneaking up on Alasdair this time either, though he did have a bit of a surprise in mind. "Now isn't that a sorry sight," Gwyn grinned toothily as he found his quarry, cocking his head down at the nephilim with a disapproving click of his tongue as he came to a stop by the young man's knee, "I could leave you to your art, if that's how you want to spend your special evening, or..." He trailed off with a little wink, dropping his arm from where he'd secured the leather jacket slung over his shoulder, holding it out with both hands Alasdair's way, "You can put this on and keep myself and the bottle of champagne up in my suite company for a while."

The longer Alasdair stayed in the Undercroft, the more defeated he felt; he was antisocial at the best of times, but felt even more so as he sat on the floor next to his bed, using his finger to trace patterns on the ground. He never expected to be spending his twenty-sixth birthday in captivity -- or any of his birthdays really. He'd made a few friends -- Gwyn and Seth, mostly -- but he didn't expect either of them to be free to come and drag him out of there whenever he needed them to.

Grabbing a piece of loose stone, Dair started etching into the floor instead, the shape of a birthday cake with some candles on before sitting back to admire his... fairly shitty artwork. He never claimed to be an artist. "Happy birthday to me, I guess," he muttered to himself before he heard some footsteps close by which caught his attention.

@krovscastlestarters