» SIMPLY A DISASTER, cage & violet

[Cage Wakefield]

On a deep level, Cage ached for his friend. He hardly wanted to be the cause of that miserable look on Bastian's face, as their friendship ran deep, but Cage also knew what he desired and what he wanted. There was no reason that he deserved her more than Bas did, but Cage was arrogant and heady to a fault, even then. Good natured, but as strong in his faults as he was in his virtues.

"I hardly know," Cage admitted. "However, my intentions have been made clear Sebastian." That was good enough, as he was a gentleman and gentleman's words were near gospel it seemed. He downed the rest of the champagne and discarded the glass on a nearby flat surface, reaching to running his hand over his face and through his hair.

"You hardly need to sing her praises to me. But don't you dare make her believe that you love her, not now. You and I both know that's not possible, not in such a scant amount of time." Cage was defensive now, and he frowned thoroughly. "Be honest with yourself, Sebastian. Marriages will never be built on passion alone." To be honest, Cage saw Sebastian as younger and stupider than he ever had viewed his friend before that very moment. Of course, Cage himself felt young and stupid too. But his view on the subject was quiet clear.

He loved his friend like a brother, the only brother figure he could claim. And whomever acquired Violet's affections could keep them. Cage just had to be sure that it was he that won them.

[Sebastian Havisham]

The young Havisham downed the drink in his hand, matching his friend in putting it down on a nearby chest. They were being watched by a rather annoying portrait of his great-aunt, who had been a ardent writer, and who for once was speechless and scribbling away fervently at her notepad. The blonde, large chested woman was quite the busy body too.

This wasn't easy. Sebastian was not one to compete for a woman's affection, there had always been enough women for the both of them in this town, and this was an unhappy coincidence. Sebastian didn't like the idea of fighting over Violet. She was not a piece of meat to be won. he figured that Violet had her own ideas about the two men, and knew her to be quite opinionated. Sebastian figured it would be good to ask her thoughts on the subject.

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "No they will not. They are to be built on trust, and confidence in one another. Something that Violet and I share. They are to be built on mutual understanding and friendship, which we also have. I am approaching this correctly, Cage, and I am completely serious about her. I can't believe that you have already proposed to court her. How hasty can you be? Since when have you ever been interested in marriage?" Sebastian felt angry. He felt that his friend was taking advantage of Violet's polite nature.

"I cannot make her do anything, let alone make her love me, but I can hope and wish that she does."

[Cage Wakefield]

Cage was surprised at his friend, and he was almost astonished at his insolence. Cage had never used the fact that he was of the higher end of the upper class against his friend, and he had never taken to the facts of the propriety between them, but now he felt his defense mechanisms kick in.

"My business is my own Havisham. And you'll do well not to question my motives in the future my friend. I am many things, but heartless and cruel are not included." Cage puffed up his chest and eyed his friend decidedly, and he was unsure when the whole thing had turned into not only a fight against the stereotype that he'd been plagued with, but a fight against the situation that Sebastian had handed him. Cage despised the raeality of it, and he was not going to treat Violet like a piece of meat, whatsoever.

He would carry on as he had intended to from the beginning: he would woo her, court her, and in time he would ask her hand. Because he wanted to, and because he felt that something good might come of them. He could only hope that she felt the same.

"Excuse me, Havisham," Cage offered with a bow and a frown. It was rare that Cage ever quarreled with his close friend, but now it seemed that they would hardly reconcile these differences now. Instead of shrinking back however, he disappeared into the crowd to find Violet. If she was even till in the presence of the ball.

[{Violet Ollivander}]

While she was far enough that she couldn't hear their conversation, she could see that their discussion had become heated. Violet wasn't quite sure what it was about, but she hoped it had nothing to do with her. There was a bad feeling in her, that perhaps it was. Perhaps Cage had confessed of what he had done that had offended her when she had come to visit his home. It was all she could think of, because she was thoroughly convinced that Sebastian only held friendship toward her. Had she been more experienced in men, she would have realized that it was the complete opposite. He was just more subtle about it than Cage.

Violet was a coward, and she would fully admit it. She didn't want to approach the two men in the middle of their argument, now that her belly was filled with cheese and finger foods. She noticed how many drinks the two men downed and scooped up a glass of champagne of her own. Then, she moved off to the edge of the room in order to.. well.. to hide from them as well as keep an eye on them.

Cage stalked off. It was only a moment later that she realized that he come to find her. Her cheeks burned as well as her throat, and she pressed her fingers against it to try to sooth it. Flustered as ever, she asked him, "Is.. is everything alright?" She glanced worriedly in the direction she had seen Sebastian last.

While she wanted to know what had happened in order to soothe things over, she was too afraid to ask. She couldn't help but feel that it had been about her, and whatever had been said had been disagreed upon. It had not ended well.

[Sebastian Havisham]

Sebastian breathed inwardly as Cage stalked off. It had certainly not been his intention to paint his friend as cruel or heartless, those were two things he could never accuse his friend of. He simply meant to suggest that Cage was being rash, and since Cage was often rash it didn't seem like such a lofty accusation. He must really like Violet Ollivander to be so invested in her, enough to ruin a friendship. Sebastian had taken care not to raise his voice, and to keep his temper at bay. He bit his tongue as Cage took the coward's way out and left. This could be resolved between them if they both acted like mature adults.

Looking up at the portrait overhead, who was shaking her head in despair at her relative, Sebastian huffed. His eye caught Cage with Violet, and his heart sunk even more. Cage would pursue her, sweep her off her feet, and that would be that. Sebastian couldn't bring himself to be so careless with his pursuit. He was too afraid of the rejection from a woman he cared so much about. Cage didn't seem to have that fear.

Grabbing a full bottle of wine on his way out, Sebastian stepped easily through the party, out of the sideroom the three had been occupying, and through the crowds. He went out to the garden, which was beautiful at this time of year, to gather his thoughts and think about how to approach this situation in the most level headed way. It was hard to thing in a level headed way when one's heart was churning.

[Cage Wakefield]

When Miss Ollivander spoke, her soft tone soothed Cage a little, and though he was fuzzed about the edges from the drinks, he was hardly incapacitated, yet. Cage's mind was brooding however. He felt betrayed by the fact that his friend had insinuated that Cage didn't equally feel passion and the need to protect and soothe Miss Violet. Or at least that was how the whole thing had come off.

Sebastian had made it seem that it was impossible for Cage to have good intentions concerning a woman, let alone one quite like Violet. He made it seem that anything and everything Cage did was immoral and that he wasn't doing this correctly. Cage was just a different sort of man than Sebastian was, and where they had complemented each other before nicely, now it created anger and uncomfortableness between them. Cage hated it already.

He gave Violet a bow and looked at her, his eyes morose. "Mr. Havisham and I have been friends for many, many years," Cage replied to her. Bas had been with him since their days at Hogwarts and beyond, their mutual housing making them closer to blood than Cage was to his own family. "And it would seem that we have the same taste in women." Cage eyed the dancefloor as a waltz was struck up by the players, and he reached for Miss Violet's hand impulsively, sweeping her into the dance. Everything he did was on impulse, but that was simply Cage. It took much from him to sit back and examine the situation at hand.

"I have already made my intentions clear to you, Miss Ollivander, and it would seem that Havisham has those same intentions." Cage spun them about the room effortlessly, wishing for one moment he could see into the woman's mind. His expression softened, and he eyed her.

"I could of course tell you the many things that I can give you and that he cannot. And I could also tell you the deep passion and thoughts I've had for you over the past few weeks. I could even tell you how I hardly go a day without wondering what book your nose is pressed to now, but it wouldn't matter. In truth, you must choose between us. Which ever one of us will make you happiest." It was a noble thing to say, to be sure, though Cage wasn't sure what he'd do if she didn't choose him. He hoped he would never find that out.

((OOC: I know Cage swept her into that waltz little suddenly, if it needs an edit, let me know ;]))

[{Violet Ollivander}]

OOC: S'fine love! <3
IC:

Violet was so shocked by what was said that she did not even realize that she had been brought into a waltz until a few moments later. She had been taught the waltz when she was young, back at Hogwarts, and she went through the motions without having to think of them. She wasn't the best dancer in the room, but she certainly wasn't the worst. Her mind however, was not on the dancing, but on the words that Cage spoke.

Her mind whirled. They both had interest in her? She had thought - her cheeks reddened even further - she had thought that Sebastian had wanted her to allow Cage to court him. It seemed that she misunderstood the short conversation that they had had. She was unable to stifle the butterflies she felt at the news, as well as the butterflies she felt at Cage's words. It was all rather overwhelming! How was it, that she had spent three years searching for a husband, and the moment she had given up and found herself a respectable occupation - she had not one, but two men vying for her attention?

As they spun around, she kept silent. Her mind raced so quickly that her head began to hurt, a sign that she was thinking too much. Violet often analyzed things too thoroughly and this was what she occupied herself with. She weighed her options, as well as a third - which was to keep everything the way that it currently was: to choose neither, rather, to choose herself. She knew who her father would want her to pick - Cage was much more well off since he was older, but Violet couldn't choose him and hurt Sebastian, nor could she choose Sebastian and hurt Cage.

"I can't do this," She confessed and slipped away from him as they spun near the edge of the room. Violet lifted her skirts slightly and slipped outside. The evening had gone from unenjoyable to something very near to ridiculously horrible. She pressed her fingers against her temples and began to rub them, her eyes closed, as she tried to rid herself of her headache.

[Sebastian Havisham]

Sebastian breathed the cold night air in. It was chilly in January, of course, and his skin prickled with the icy breath of frost. This was becoming fastly remedied by the amount of wine in his system. The garden was all ice, white and blue flowers amidst snow and ivy. The dark night sky cascaded overhead, providing a lovely contrast to the garden itself. The stars freckled the indigo curtain in a beautiful way. Sebastian had always been good about keeping up appearances. Right now, though, he had to collect himself before he returned to his guests. He wasn't ready to face anyone at the moment.

He was thinking about Cage and Violet, of course, and what had occurred moments before. His chances with Violet were slim to none, and he knew it. She was clearly looking for nothing, or something immediate. She felt she was old, and if that was the case then Cage would be the perfect match. He was already at the point of establishing his career, and he was old enough for a good marriage. Sebastian, by comparison, had no shot. He was too young, and it was too early on in his career to support a wife. Especially in such a political profession as an MoM worker, it would take him time to win prestige. Violet would clearly see this, and see the merit in marrying a man like Cage.

Sebastian couldn't blame her so much for that. Cage had been his best friend for a long time. He was, though immature, an incredibly wonderful man. Sebastian knew him to be loyal and trustworthy. They had many fun moments together, and he deserved happiness. Sebastian wished that Cage's happiness wouldn't come at the expense of his own happiness, but if that was the case then it would be something he would have to stomach. How could he deny the happiness of two beloved friends for his own selfish desires? It hardly seemed right.

Taking a swig straight from the wine bottle, he rested it beside him. He was seated on a stone bench overlooking the garden, his mind still racing despite several minutes passing since his altercation with Cage. There was too much to think about. He wished that everything was how it had been before he met Violet Ollivander, confining himself to a life of the Hog's Head. Perhaps it wasn't the most fully wonderful life he could choose, but it was entirely happier than he felt at the moment, and Sebastian was not a man who liked to feel sorry about his life. Sebastian liked to live life to the fullest always, and he was not doing that. Running a hand through his disheveled brown hair, he wondered if he might go and talk to Violet... explain himself at least. But, then, what if she was in the arms of Cage Wakefield? The thought alone broke him up.

[{Violet Ollivander}]

It was time to go, she decided. It had been a mistake to come to the ball, just as she had feared it might be. Social events never turned out well for her. While she had been far from ignored at this one, she did not find two men arguing over her as romantic of a thought as other women might have. She had only just become independent and she was quite enjoying it. No longer did she have to ask for money from her father. She could afford to care for herself. Her boarding was free, as was her meals. Violet even knew about the house elves in the kitchen near the Hufflepuff common room. If she ever needed a midnight snack, she knew where to go. The elves didn't often get visitors and they were always thrilled to see her.

Perhaps that was where she would go for a nice hot cup of liquid chocolate. It would soothe her. Perhaps then she might take a long warm bath in the prefects' bathroom. It would be late at night when she returned, and she doubted that there would be any students around.

Violet opened her eyes and peeked about her. She had not gone out the front door like she had aimed for, rather she was out on the patio. It was beautifully decorated, just like the ballroom. It could have been romantic even, if not for the situation she found herself in. Lucky for her, she spotted Sebastian in the moonlight. It would seem that there was no need to have to return to the crowded room. She could slip away once she politely told him goodbye.

"Sebastian," She said quietly as she approached. The cold night air prickled her skin and she found herself wishing for her overcoat. Despite all of the layers in her dress, it did not keep a chill from seeping through. "I think I ought to go."

[Sebastian Havisham]

Sebastian had not expected her to be here of all places, and the minute he heard her voice, he stood up. His cheeks wore the frost of the air and the warmth of wine, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were sad. Sebastian Havisham did not like to present himself in such a way, and looking at her he tried his best to fake a smile. The falsity of his expression was no doubt something she'd pick up on, but he was clinging to his own sense of self, and he needed to pretend everything was okay in order to believe it.

He didn't know what to think of Violet Ollivander anymore. Had she simply been playing him? Since she had know all along of Cage's intentions, was she then simply using Sebastian as a friend for amusement? It seemed that way to be certain considering she withheld the courtship from him. But then, that seemed so against her nature. Sebastian was confused. He wasn't sure that his relationship with Cage would be repaired, but was also unsure about the state of his relationship with Violet. Sebastian was a man who liked everything to be out in the air. She knew that he was not perfect, and that his father was pushing him into things, but obviously did not feel comfortable enough to tell him such personal things about herself. Sebastian had been the fool, for he had misjudged this.

The night had been meant for so many joyous things, but now it seemed ruined. Nothing had gone as planned, and while the guests might have enjoyed themselves their host was cut up. They hadn't even been able to take the dance she had promised him.

"Yes," Sebastian said quietly, looking into those grey-green eyes for what he worried would be the last time. Surely Cage had revealed everything to her, and the younger Havisham was mortified over it. "Good evening, Miss Ollivander," he said with a bow. He did not want to lie to her and say it had been a pleasant visit, for they both knew that would be nothing more than a formality, and he certainly couldn't bring himself to say her name.

[{Violet Ollivander}]

The sadness that he held there was something that saddened her as well. She had never seen him in such a state, nor did she understand it. Perhaps he had not wanted Violet to know of his affections for her - or he believed that she had chosen Cage over himself. Violet believed it was the latter, and while she desperately wanted to tell him that she had chosen no one, the way he spoke to her told her that she ought to just leave him alone. Perhaps, she could write him a letter. It was all so overwhelming. She felt as if she couldn't tell right from left and up from down at that very moment. Apparating would be dreadfully bad idea in her current state. She would need to walk all the way back to Hogwarts.

The time alone would give her room to think, away from all the noise of the party as well as the pressures given to her by the two men.

His response nearly brought tears to her eyes. Violet wanted to cry out that she hoped he was alright, that it wouldn't change anything if he did not want it to, and that she had not chosen anyone at all. But she could not. His dismissal of her -quite formal when she had not been- hurt her enough to cowardly hide such information inside of herself. Stiffly, she curtsied to his bow. Then, she turned and walked down the steps of the patio, across the lawn, and onto the street.

The end of her wand lit, she began the long and quiet walk back to the school.

[Cage Wakefield]

I can't do this. What on earth did that mean, Cage wondered. Did Violet really plot all of this up, or was it all a mistake? Did Bastian stack his cards against Cage, making Bas the enemy here? He had no idea, in all honesty.

Cage was a wreck on the inside, no matter how composed he looked to be on the outside. He danced another dance with a few more women, though he wasn't really thinking of them at all, like he normally would have. Violet and Sebastian were dancing in and out of his head in various compromising scenarios, and he hardly knew what to think anymore.

Had Violet just been playing them both on each other? It hardly seemed to be in her nature, but he put nothing past women at this point. Cage himself didn't want to be at odds with Bastian. They had been friends for years, but now there was a rift between them. Cage was almost of a mind to go to him and talk it out, but he was certainly inebriated and if his friend was true to form, Bas was well on his way to that state as well by now. It would be best to just wait until the morning.

Cage took a final glass of wine and swallowed the stinging, rich mixture, wishing away all of the ill feelings that had begun to plague him. Cage could see himself happy with Violet, but then again, he could see Sebastian with her as well. As much as he hated to admit it, Violet needed someone like them and regardless of their actions, Bas and Cage were much alike in nature. It seemed almost inevitable, in retrospect, that they would pursue the same type of woman, or most failingly the same woman indeed.

Cage rubbed his face as he exited the ball, not daring to seek Bas out. He'd go to him in the afternoon, after they both had nursed their headache and muddled through there thoughts. And he would find out just what was going on. Was this just a simple mistake of a woman unused to attention mistakingly putting two men against each other? Or was it a deeper, more conniving venture.

Cage wasn't sure. And he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.