Louis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bayoublues) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
foolishmortals2018-02-10 09:27 pm
bayoublues) wrote in foolishmortals2018-02-10 09:27 pm
An Early Mardi Gras
[That was certainly...an ordeal, alright. These trials just kept getting worse and worse as time went on. Within the span of twenty-four hours, six more people died. Four of them had been friends. And Lekmet, he--he thought--
Never mind that. Everyone else was probably hurting just as bad as he was. Last week, Kim had told Louis that he shouldn't be alone while he was sad--that sympathy probably extended to everyone else. He had to do something to help. The dead deserved a decent send off.
Well, except maybe Negaduck. But that's different.
After the trial, Louis seems to have disappeared back into his room. After a few hours, though, a messy, handwritten note is shoved under everyone's door.]
(EARLY) MARDI GRAS PARTY
-JAZZ
-DRINKS AND FOOD
-FUN AND FRIENDS
[He neglected to put the location down on the invite, but one can follow the sound of Louis's trumpet into the dining room. The place has been draped with colorful, half-finished banners--gold, purple, and green. Further down the table, a few bottles of alcohol and fruit juice have been neatly lined up next to a stack of paper cups. There's also a pasta bar set up, with individual bowls of spaghetti, pasta sauce, and Parmesan cheese. Hardly Mardi Gras food, but it's the only thing Louis knows how to make. At least there's also a plate of beignets.
Standing at the back of the room is Louis, playing trumpet like his life depends on it. His repertoire for tonight? The songs he's heard while watching humans parade through New Orleans on Mardi Gras. Songs about being carefree, about forgetting your worries, about enjoying life while it lasts.
Louis doesn't seem particularly interested in talking right now. He's not going to let people mope tonight. They deserved a good fucking party after everything, dammit, and they were going to get one.]
Never mind that. Everyone else was probably hurting just as bad as he was. Last week, Kim had told Louis that he shouldn't be alone while he was sad--that sympathy probably extended to everyone else. He had to do something to help. The dead deserved a decent send off.
Well, except maybe Negaduck. But that's different.
After the trial, Louis seems to have disappeared back into his room. After a few hours, though, a messy, handwritten note is shoved under everyone's door.]
(EARLY) MARDI GRAS PARTY
-JAZZ
-DRINKS AND FOOD
-FUN AND FRIENDS
[He neglected to put the location down on the invite, but one can follow the sound of Louis's trumpet into the dining room. The place has been draped with colorful, half-finished banners--gold, purple, and green. Further down the table, a few bottles of alcohol and fruit juice have been neatly lined up next to a stack of paper cups. There's also a pasta bar set up, with individual bowls of spaghetti, pasta sauce, and Parmesan cheese. Hardly Mardi Gras food, but it's the only thing Louis knows how to make. At least there's also a plate of beignets.
Standing at the back of the room is Louis, playing trumpet like his life depends on it. His repertoire for tonight? The songs he's heard while watching humans parade through New Orleans on Mardi Gras. Songs about being carefree, about forgetting your worries, about enjoying life while it lasts.
Louis doesn't seem particularly interested in talking right now. He's not going to let people mope tonight. They deserved a good fucking party after everything, dammit, and they were going to get one.]
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It's fine. Six people are dead, but they still know how to have fun??? Probably. Theoretically.]
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I've never seen spaghetti at a party before. Have you?
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