ouiking_ouija: (r u not entertained?)
Klaus Hargreeves ([personal profile] ouiking_ouija) wrote in [community profile] umbrellajackassery2019-03-23 09:34 pm

Happy Birthday(s)!

It was their first birthday since averting the apocalypse, and as far as Klaus was concerned, that meant it was time to celebrate.

Granted, there were more reasons than just that, they were alive -all of them- and they were together, and they had saved the fucking world, and he was thankful once again that Five's brilliant, stupid, all-or-nothing plan had actually worked.

Of course, actually planning a party without his siblings finding out about it was going to be tricky, but he'd enlisted Mom's help -thankful again that whatever Five had done had landed them on the morning of their father's funeral all those months ago- because there was no way he could have done this alone.

Each of the siblings staying at the house -including Klaus, as not to raise suspicions- would wake up to a small carton on their doorknob, containing a single cupcake topped with a chocolate domino mask stamped with their number, along with a heavy cotton-paper envelope with their name written on it in Grace's immaculate handwriting, which contained a single printed sheet:
Magical Birthday Masquerade
Raid your closet, raid a sibling's closet, raid the attic!
Do whatever you need to do to put together your Very Most Magical outfit.
It's time we had a party!
Costumes mandatory. Bring a +1 if you have one.
Refreshments provided.
Grand ballroom, 7pm tonight.

Also included was a map to the ballroom, just in case none of them had ever been there, because Klaus couldn't remember having been there, and Grace had had to show him where it was.

The Grand Ballroom was indeed, grand, and after some digging through unused rooms and storage spaces and even a couple of secondhand stores in town, Klaus had found enough decorations for a couple parties. Upon entering, there were two cardboard photo-ops, one apparently an oversized mason jar with large flowers and grass partially obscuring it, making it look like whoever was 'inside' was tiny.
The other was an undersea scene, a sunken ship in the background and an overflowing treasure chest in the foreground, with dangling jellyfish and some cleverly strung strings of beads to look like bubbles, along with a camera on a tripod between the two to allow for easy picture-taking.

The decorations were an interesting hodge-podge of Christmas tinsel and fairy-lights, along with a few hanging mobiles, one had an array of fashion dolls with fairy wings and one that was all sorts of glitter-covered birds, and a few others besides. As well as streamers and honeycomb-paper pieces of mushrooms and gnomes and even a poster rainbow with a pot of gold at the end of it tacked to one wall.
The dance floor was designated by a large, mostly-symmetrical square of glitter tape on the floor, and had sequined curtains behind it, along with an actual jukebox that didn't have quite as extensive a music selection as Luther had in his room, but would do for the time being.

There was an entire table of refreshments to one side, cucumber sandwiches of course, as well as various other finger-foods and even a chocolate fountain with a veritable mountain of fruit skewers and cookies for dipping. There was, of course, a large punchbowl, as well as a couple beehive drink dispensers complete with puffball-and-glitter bees swarming around them by way of wire wrapped around the lids.
The food had taken almost as long as the decorations, and as he hadn't been about to ask Grace to do it alone, he'd definitely had a hand in it as well, though mostly it was anything that didn't require actual cooking expertise.

In the opposite corner of the dance floor was a rough circle of comfortable chairs, beanbags and low tables surrounding a 'campfire' that was cellophane and streamers with a lamp and a fan underneath it, to make it move, though the rocks surrounding it were real.

Really it was probably a wonder he'd managed to get it set up without anyone noticing, but with none of them really keeping that close of an eye on each other, and the ballroom being far enough away from where they took up residence, he wasn't completely surprised, either.

[It's another free-for-all, thread about finding a costume, thread at the party, thread about not going to the party bc you're Diego A Loner, Dottie, A Rebel. Whatever y'all, figure we all needed a good-time, low-feels post, enjoy!]
obediences: (silhouette)

pre-party seamstressing

[personal profile] obediences 2019-03-25 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
During those hours when Charlie's cooped up working on her outfit, Luther lies on his bed with fingers laced over his stomach, staring at the ceiling and listening to the clatter of her machine. It's a comforting hum from their childhood: a soothing and familiar rhythm as it chugs along like a contented beast, pausing and clacking, chewing its way through the fabric. Occasionally it gets stuck and the noise pauses, and he smiles ruefully to himself.

He's been trying to make up his mind about the party tonight. Costumes mandatory had given him pause, had made him stare mistrustfully at his wardrobe of shabby oversized clothes in neutral colours. Where once Luther had stood out as the grinning front-page poster-boy of the Umbrella Academy, nowadays it's like he's trying to fade inconspicuously into the background. Be as unnoticeable as possible, despite his stature. A flamboyant costume is the last damned thing he'd do voluntarily.

But. It's their birthday.

So, he eventually rises out of his creaking bed, heads outside, and delivers a careful knock at her door -- as if they're kids again, tiptoeing around each other (because if there's one thing teenagers really really want, furiously, it's their privacy).

"Charlie?"
fireandthread: (project time)

the best kind

[personal profile] fireandthread 2019-03-25 10:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Charlie's hit a pause. She needs to change out threads and it's at this moment that there's a knock on the door. She doesn't have to ask who it is. She recognizes her brothers voice from a mile away. There's a gesture from her at her door, a telekinetic twisting of the doorknob and another telekinetic pull to open it. As she does.

Swiveling in the office chair that served as her sewing chair, she grins at her brother.

"I take it you saw the invitations?" She's already eaten most of her cupcake. All that's left is the candy domino mask, but she's saving it.

"Come on in, Luther. What can I do for you?"
obediences: (pic#13015451)

[personal profile] obediences 2019-03-27 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah." Luther's holding the envelope, pinched delicately between two massive fingers and raising it up like a piece of evidence. And he reads aloud: "Costumes mandatory. I, uh. I could do with some help? I don't have anything like that. Could you make me something?"

His old combat uniform might be stashed away in storage somewhere, but that form-fitting fabric guaranteed won't fit him anymore. It was made for a different time, a different Luther. He's looking sheepish and uncomfortable at the fact that he even has to ask this, his massive shoulders moving in a self-conscious shrug.

(But of course he hadn't even considered the fact that he might ignore the instructions and show up in his shabby clothing anyway. It's in the envelope, it's in Grace's handwriting, and it's an order. So naturally, he has to follow it.)
fireandthread: (project time)

[personal profile] fireandthread 2019-03-27 03:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Charlie'd be surprised if he didn't follow it, considering whose handwriting covered the paper. She studies him carefully and tilts her head a tad, considering what she could possibly do for Luther. Already, she has a couple ideas, but she knows her brother. All of her ideas would seem either an insult (Even though they aren't) or too stand-out-ish for him to consider.

"Well, what would you like to dress up as? Did you want to go as a character from something? Because I'm not really going as anything. Just a different outfit for myself. I dress up as video game characters for a living and as much fun as it is, it's nice to just be myself."

She shrugs some, standing and stretching her arms and fingers. "I'm here for whatever you need, though."
obediences: (pic#13027280)

[personal profile] obediences 2019-03-31 07:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't actually have any ideas," he says, a little crestfallen. Klaus had always been the most imaginative out of all of them; it's like he and Charlie absorbed whatever creativity they had, leaving Luther staid and, well, boring. Number One was good at painting model airplane kits, meticulously going by the numbers. Colouring outside the lines? Not so much.

"I never dress up like you do, so... It's probably a good thing if it's more like a costume? I could do a character." A lilting, rising question at the end of his sentence. Where Luther can be firm (stubbornly, implacably so) and take-no-nonsense on missions or in the thick of battle — this is something where he has absolutely no experience to draw on. But she does. So he's looking to Charlie for guidance, his expression faded and lost. It's not like Sir Reginald ever let them out for Halloween or threw theme parties like this.
fireandthread: (project time)

[personal profile] fireandthread 2019-04-01 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
Charlie sits back in her chair some, crossing her arms over her chest. It's not a defensive posture. This is just how Charlie thinks. One finger taps on her arm for a moment as she listens to her brother, smiling just a bit at how badly he wants to do this right. She can tell and she finds that pretty admirable.

"I made the youngest Klaus," and god, is it ever weird that there's more than one Klaus and that one of them is significantly younger than the others. "A Jack Sparrow costume. It'd be pretty easy to make you a pirate, too."
obediences: (okay)

[personal profile] obediences 2019-04-03 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
"Pirate," Luther echoes, mulling over that mental image, weighing it in his mind. It's not bad. But then-- "As long as it's not actually Jack Sparrow. Can't have a repeat."

That's one excuse for it, but also, mostly, he wouldn't be caught dead in the eyeliner. That's more Klaus' bag. But a generic pirate? Yeah, that could do. His eyes light up at the possibility.

"Something simple shouldn't be too much work for you either, right? It doesn't need to be fancy," he says quickly. "Just enough for it to count as a costume."