A Way Too Tight Tuxedo
Banner by kahira valerian
IC date: 3rd year Summer
Axel hated the stuffy pureblood balls. The attendance of the ball guests were all trying to one-up themselves over the other, competing in trivial things, like the amount of silverware or the amount of 'successful' children. It was very tedious. Axel wasn't known for being the most kind or even civil person. Most people would describe him as unpleasant or rude or other unsavoury adjectives.
The music which was playing was slow and dull, Axel would have much prefered something faster, or something which didn't put him to sleep. Of course, it wasn't even his own parents hosting, it was some distant cousin and his parents just had to accept to be courteous. They were here in the crowd somewhere, probably laughing too loud over fizzy drinks and complimenting each other's outfits. Ughhh.
Axel was holding on to the same glass he had picked up from the start, it was flat and now room temperature as he hadn't drank it nor replaced it. But he had a reason he hadn't replaced it, the refreshment table was now crowded with his cousins, and once they spotted him, he would be lost in an never-ending conversation. Those types of conversations always seemed to be small talk, like how are you? How is Beaux? Have you got a girlfriend yet? The unfortunate bit is that Axel could never remember the connection that he had with the person and would spend almost half of it trying to remember, and that was if he could be bothered.
He sighs, looking around at the crowd of overdressed ladies and the men in four-pieced suits with their billowing robes with their family insignia over their heart. Axel should have polished his before the event but he 'couldn't find the polish'. He hadn't looked. So his insignia was dull and had a smeary fingerprint over the top left.
Just as Axel was thinking about slipping out and borrowing a broom to fly home, there seemed to be some sort of commotion, the crowd seemed to be whispering excitedly and Axel caught the word 'heir' and smirks, thinking he is about to see a posh, stuck up, middle-aged man showing off his kid of five. Who would inherit that family's everything. He puts his lukewarm drink down and moves through the crowd to the front to see this so-called heir. The crowd seemed very resistant to him pushing forward but he mutters 'Brooks Hier budge' and they move out of the way easier.
WC:414
@Maximilien de Fostoncy
Y/N: Do you think I'm stupid?
Axel:..... Yes. pc:Emiline Hunter
A Way Too Tight Tuxedo
| ..... | all dialogue in French | banner by julia evans! ··· Maxi adjusted his over-starched shirt collar, before skilfully edging his way through the room, trailing after his very smug grandfather. A few moments before he lost his parents to the crowd, his mother's burgundy evening dress and father's dark suit vest disappeared into the sea of white gloves, feather hair clips, tie bars, and cufflinks. Maxi wasn't a stranger to all these, the soft music playing and low whispers exchanging, having been dragged along to such upper-class pureblood balls by his grandfather and parents since a very young age. Even his first instance of magic was related to his reluctance to attend balls if he recollected correctly. Although the details of it had already started to fade, it was a piece of fond memory indeed. And yes, like most pureblood kids - he couldn't speak for everyone, but as far as he was concerned, a majority of them were - he loathed the dullness and courtesies of it. If he had been eight, he would be whining to go home. But he was eighteen (horrible!); and through the years he had slowly learnt the art of blending in and enjoying those balls. They usually served fine champagne, at least. He was well aware of what his grandfather had on his mind. To officially present him as the heir of the de Fostoncy line who would inherit the family business in years' time in front of these honourable lords and ladies from prestigious pureblood families. The debut, as some would call it. Steel grey eyes fell on the back of his grandfather, who nodded enthusiastically - a bit too keen, as Maxi observed - to every single person passing by. Louis was decidedly delighted, he thought, and why wouldn't he, having waited for this precious moment of officially presenting his grandson as the family for seven years - eighteen years - already? Indeed, Louis had introduced his grandson as the future heir on many occasions; but this time, after Maxi's graduation - with perfect grades, by the way - was for real. The cynosure of all eyes. Louis had it within his grasp. In Maxi's mind, his grandfather was a peculiar person. What if he had eventually decided not to inherit the business, and sneak away to somewhere far away, Paris, perhaps England, or maybe even to another continent? He couldn't make him, of course. Maxi lowered his eyes to the floor, where trains swept and heels clicked and tapped. Grand-père should have felt lucky. Maxi thought to himself. He wasn't doing this for his grandfather anyway, and there had been a lack of communication in this household since the very day it formed, but still. It turned out that communication did really work. The relationship between him and his parents (and between his parents themselves) had somehow mended through deep talks during the past few years, and while he had zero confidence in persuading his snobby and snoopy grandfather who was extremely obstinate, Maxi knew that he craved understanding between the family somewhere deep in his heart. He was halfway to it; Louis was the final jigsaw piece. Of course, that wouldn't be tonight. It's not like he would jump up to the stage, grab the crowd's attention crying out his - and his parents, maybe - real sentiments to the mass group of purebloods here and make a scene. Nor anytime soon, he supposed. Rome wasn't built in one day, after all. Maxi's right hand unconsciously touched the grape-shaped button on his left sleeve and twirled it between his fingers. It was like a lifetime as they moved forward through the flock of people, and eventually, they were close to the very front of the hall. Louis conversed with the graciously smiling host and hostess for a few moments before clearing his throat. Maxi followed and struggled to recollect their names - gosh, he couldn't even remember if they were distant relatives of his or just someone within Louis' social circle - so he put up a small yet polite smile, and nodded to them as he passed by. His grandfather's amplified voice under the effects of magic rang out. "Permit me to introduce my grandson, Maximilien," Maximilien. Of course, he had always been Maximilien rather than Maxi to his posh grandfather. "who has just graduated from Beauxbatons with distinction. I am pleased to announce that he will be officially joining our family business at Château de Fostoncy." Maxi put up his professional smile just in time, offering the applauding crowd an amiable nod. "I couldn't be more delighted." He answered, rather humbly. Unlike his grandfather's enthusiasm, it was mostly a courtesy message, and people probably couldn't detect if he was truly excited about the responsibilities or not. Anyway. He knew that he would like bartending, and that was enough. Maxi caught his mother's eyes among the crowd, the same calm grey colour tenderly and a bit worriedly gazing back at him. He gave her a small smile. While he appreciated it, she didn't have to worry about him. He was already a grown-up now, and he - they - would be okay. As the announcement had been made, the crowd started moving. Streams of smiling faces approached and struck up conversations with him and his grandfather, and soon Louis was out of sight. Maxi sighed a bit, turning to face the few that stuck around him. Yes, I just finished my studies at Beauxbatons. Yes, I was on the broom racing team. Yes, I feel great honour and responsibility. No, I am starting small. Likely bartending… And so he stood there with a polite but stiffened smile, patiently waiting for the next inquirer. ··· summer 2026 | @Axel Brooks |
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Maximilien de Fostoncy · Beauxbatons "Just call me Maxi." |
Hufflepuff · Lindsey Springhall "Or, have some lemonade." |