Chapter Twelve: Sober
Being late was not something Diarmuid nor Arturia were exceptionally proud of, and when they finally arrived at the magnanimous Five Diamond-winning hotel, The Throne, the Irishman could not help but feel an immense pressure to get on all fours to apologize to Arturia's employer for being unworthy of the privilege to even exist in the same realm as this hotel's haughty appearance.
The duo quickly whisked their overnight bags off the metro bus and simply took a moment to stare up at the beautiful structure.
"I really hope that your supervisors will not be upset at us being a bit late." Diarmuid said with a hint of nervousness. Arturia just laughed and brushed him off.
"Of course not! Attendance isn't even mandatory, plus there's so many people that he probably won't even notice."
"The hotel reservation costs must have been astronomical though…"
Again, the young woman laughed, "Oh you silly country boy, don't you know? The Grail Conglomerate owns this hotel, and like one-hundred others. Of course, corporate governance doesn't let them use it for free, but it's basically free because, you know, corporate loopholes."
"Uh-huh. Wow…" Were the only words he could muster. Corporations will be corporations, he concluded.
"I'm kidding. I was pretty shocked when I first found out too. Rich people really have their own way of doing things." Arturia smiled as she hoisted her bag higher shoulder. Diarmuid asked if she'd let him carry it for her, but she politely declined with a smile.
Even though it was New Years' Eve, the weather was surprisingly mild, and people milled about in light overcoats and fluffy scarves. The good weather paired with the immaculate view made it feel like she was dreaming.
The twisting sun-kissed façade reflected the glassy ocean water. Almost too many fountains to count lined the main entryway. Arturia began to count the number of luxurious sports cars parked in front, but her head became dizzy with the realization of just how much innovation could be piled in metal sheets. The scenery beyond its front gates was a far cry from concrete and iron. Sandy beaches and bubbling sea foam splashed out in their horizon and tiny boats bobbed with each wave.
Glowing rays of light were still visible even as the sun was being eaten by the edge of the ocean the eyes could barely see. It was a welcome change of scenery for these weary souls trapped within the concrete jungle.
There was a knowing familiarity Diarmuid had felt when the wash of crisp seaside air surrounded his senses. Even though it was a simple one-night trip, he felt more at ease than the last time the sea reflected in his view. His emotions were so different even though the view was nearly the same.
"Welcome to The Throne." The two bellboys sandwiched the sliding glass doors greeted them cheerfully. The two nodded in thanks, speechless because the inside was more luxurious than they could have ever imagined.
Pure white marble interior from floor to ceiling, with illuminating orchid bunches in elegantly polished pots lined the path to the receptionist's desk in the center of the grand first floor. A giant stained-glass piece was placed right above the entrance, basking each entering guest in a heavenly pool of white, gold, and miniscule streaks of red.
"I feel like we just entered heaven, Arturia. Could you pinch me to make sure I am still alive?" Diarmuid gaped at the rose window, thinking of Volumen's own behind the bar. Both were indeed beautiful, but his mind was endlessly reminded of how insignificant Volumen's seemed when confronted with the monstrosity before him.
"I assure you we are within reality so there is definitely no need. We've never had our gatherings here before, so this is a new experience for me too."
While making their way to the receptionist, they made glances at the adjacent areas, simultaneously trying, and failing, to look indifferent to the infinite luxuries grazing their view.
To the left was a sitting area lit up with an ornate crystal chandelier with purple velvet lined couches and more throw pillows than any home design show would ever use in its runtime. Fur rugs, likely imported and authentic, thrown across the glistening marble floor, were treated as mere accessories to the hotel guest's experience. The haughty and wealthy sat daintily there, texting, working, dawdling, just whatever the rich do, they were doing without a second thought to the indescribable value of the rugs they were stomping on and the pillow down they were crushing. A country bumpkin like Diarmuid has never felt more out of place than he already was in the big city.
The other side of the grand hall was a stark contrast to the pure white theme they were aiming for. Dimly lit, save for the glowing wall lights hidden in the recessions, the bar emanated an ominous maroon glow only counteracted by the candlelit tables and torchiere lamps scattered through the carpeted floor. Glasses of Johnnie Walker Blue clinked followed by scattered laughter that echoed in the chamber of darkness before bouncing into the hallway of divine light. The bartender herself was a mere silhouette, the clack clack clack of her shaker gave her the effects of an arbiter, methodologically judging all who entered her domain with just a sip of her concoctions.
Clack clack clack.
Clack clack cla-
"Oh! Sorry about that-hey it's you Arturia! How you doing?" A light bump from a supposed stranger struck both out of their trance. Their attention snapped towards a sturdy man carrying what looked to be a…rice bag?
"Hello Mr. Touta. I'm doing well and I hope you are too. May I ask what that bag of rice is for?"
The teal-haired man chuckled and smacked the bag of rice slung over his shoulder. "Nothing beats rice, wine, rice wine, rice with wine, you get the point, right?!"
Both Arturia and Diarmuid exchanged looks that read of confusion.
"I…think so?"
"I have a rice cooker set up in my room already. This party can serve me all the great food it can, but no meal is complete without a steaming bowl of rice."
"Uh-huh. Rice is great isn't it, Arturia?" Diarmuid laughed awkwardly, still looking towards his roommate for any clue as to what else he should say. The rice loving coworker nodded in approval and roughly smacked his back as a sign of mutual understanding. At least on his end that was what it felt like he was conveying.
"Yup, I think so too Diarmuid…well we must be off now! We have yet to be checked in, so I hope to talk with you more at the event!" Arturia also nodded a bit, but clearly, she also had a hard time coming up with words.
"Oh indeed! Arturia and, was it Dio? Sorry I do tend to forget names, but definitely not faces, especially not pretty ones like yours! If you ever find yourselves craving a bowl of hearty rice, you know where I will be! I'll give you all the rice you can eat and then some." The rice-loving man guffawed and gave a nod of approval, smacked his rice bag again before making his way towards the elevators.
"He's-uh…" Diarmuid started, but Arturia was well prepared for this conversation.
"Yeah uh, so that's Tawara Touta. Archer. He's a great worker, but you don't even know how many times I've caught him trying to eat on the job." She sighed and Diarmuid just responded with laugh and a small pat of reassurance.
"Every time I meet one of your coworkers, I feel like I'm entering a whole new world."
"Well, be prepared to meet a hundred more tonight. On booze. On New Years' Eve."
"I cannot wait."
Check-in was smooth, and both were amazed at the room they were given. Floor to ceiling windows with a remote control for opacity. A glass door that blended well with the window leads to a balcony overlooking the glassy sea intersecting the horizon. Two beds draped with Egyptian cotton goose down comforter sets and red velvet throw pillows. The bathroom was glistening in a pristine white marble sheen. Luckily, the "not enough beds" trope did not play out this time, but secretly, neither of them would have minded if push comes to shove.
Seeing as they were already rather tardy for the event, Arturia and Diarmuid could only gape in awe for a moment, only taking a brief rest on the world's fluffiest bedding before clambering to get dressed.
"Arturia, are you doing alright?" Diarmuid called out from the bed area, clipping his onyx-colored cuff links in place. His roommate told him that the party was simple formal at best, and he shouldn't worry about dressing up too much since usually at least one person ends up naked in the end anyways…
Nonetheless, Diarmuid still opted for a black cotton blazer, slacks, and leather shoe combination with a hunter green dress shirt. Green was not his first choice, but all his other formal shirts were a bit too tight to fit over his deltoids. Even this one was pushing the limits, but it was better than the shirts he usually wears to work. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to push back the chunk of hair that always dangled in front of his face, to no success and just left his hair as it usually does. Hopefully he wasn't going to end up as that one guy who stands out for the wrong reason.
"Oh yeah! No worries, just having a wrestling match with my hair." She called out from the bathroom.
"Screw this, I'm giving up!" she threw down her hair ties and pulled out the crooked braid she had attempted and settled for her usual bun and ribbon style she was much more comfortable doing. Now her hair turned out fine, aside from that piece on top that just never seems to lay flat.
Turning back to the mirror, she smoothed down her navy blue off-the-shoulder dress. It slightly flared out past her hips and fell right at her knees, which were veiled by sheer black stockings. Not one to care too much about fashion, this was the only dress that she owned, but it had nice blue floral embroidery that blended well into the fabric color, so it still looked and made her feel quite elegant.
"Whew, okay! That's so much better. Are you ready?" Arturia shuffled out of the bathroom in the hotel's flimsy slippers.
When her eyes landed on her roommate, she seemed to instantly become entranced. She couldn't help but just admire how handsome he was, not that she did not know that already. Just the view of the subtle straining of his well-defined muscles against the green cloth of his shirt made Arturia look away and blush violently.
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is a gorgeous man, indeed.
"Hm? What's wrong? Your face is red." Her roommate approached her; golden eyes focused intensely on her face.
"Huh? Oh, it's nothing! Just a little excited for all the food, that's all! Your face is pretty red too you know?" Arturia deflected the topic onto him, and she technically was not wrong either.
The moment the green-eyed woman stepped out of the bathroom, Diarmuid once again, fell under her spell. Everything, from her lovely expression to her pure beauty, maybe it was just the situation creating the right mood, but he was once again reminded of what he has been thinking since the very beginning.
Arturia Pendragon is so, so beautiful.
"Oh my. I guess I might be a little excited about New Year's too." They chuckled awkwardly.
"You look stunning."
"I think you look very charming."
They complimented each other simultaneously, awkwardly, but undoubtedly genuinely.
Of course, they followed up by apologizing for interrupting and humbly denied one another's praise. Typical, but it definitely warmed their hearts.
Arturia quickly slipped on her black heels since they were already late enough. When she stood up, Diarmuid swiftly opened the door and bowed dramatically like a butler.
"My liege, please come this way." He recited, trying to not crack a smile.
The "liege" just rolled her eyes and smiled as the door locked behind them.
"Could you be so kind as to provide your liege an escort to the venue?" She asked in return, having fun while doing so.
Diarmuid raised his eyebrows in amusement and gestured his left arm which Arturia happily wrapped her own arm around, not letting go until they reached the venue on the top floor.
Even before they got out of the elevator, they could hear heavy thumping of people, music, and honestly who knows what else. The floor vibrated with the blaring music.
There are many party schools but hidden in the shadows of society were party companies, and Chaldea Organization was definitely one of them. If it wasn't for their immaculate professionalism and service on the clock, they surely would have been run out of business ages ago for all they do off the clock.
"Well, your company seems quite enthusiastic about the New Years, if nothing else." The duo stepped through the open threshold into the dim space.
"For better or worse, I suppose."
The boisterous cloud of feet stomping and whooping melted into the sparsely lit venue dotted with palm-sized spotlights and royal purple mood lights. Surely those who watched the hotel from a distance would wonder what in the world was going on beyond the top floor's glass walls. The abundance of food showed the company spared no expense in celebration. A seemingly endless buffet snaked around the room, with everything from a standard chocolate fountain, to a sashimi tower continuously increasing in height thanks to a stern chef wielding a much too sharp knife standing behind the display. Familiar clacking of a bartender's shaker drew a wandering eye's attention straight to the open bar where people were well on their way to becoming more drunk than the drunk immortal in that peculiar Chinese poem. To say demons may show up during this festive evening would not entirely be an exaggeration, given how far the crowd has descended into chaos already.
In the center was a large open space for people to mill about, but to the sides were wide booths with seats and pillows made from the same velvety material as the couches in the lobby. A most suitable respite for those tired of indulging in worldly pleasures.
"Saber, so glad you could make it! I was so worried you were a no-show. Ah-! Hello Saber's friend! Thank you for coming to our party!" A young man with scruffy chocolate hair and azure eyes called out to Arturia while a pink-haired girl trailed after him breathlessly.
"Wait Senpai! Please stop running around so much, you'll tire yourself before midnight!" She stopped beside Ritsuka Fujimaru, the commander of Chaldea Security's forces.
"Sorry Saber, he's just a bit excited since it's New Year's Eve and all." She bowed deeply while Arturia told her to raise her head and that there was no need to apologize.
"Ritsuka, Mash, it's so good to see you both and I apologize for my tardiness. Happy New Year's Eve. I've brought my friend, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne tonight as my plus one." She gestured towards Diarmuid, who smiled and held out his hand.
"Ritsuka and Mash, is that right? I have heard much about you two. Thank you for always supporting Arturia."
While Ritsuka enthusiastically took his hand to shake, Mash was a bit shyer. Gingerly taking the man's hand for a quick shake before moving close to Arturia's ear and whispering quietly.
"He's very handsome. Is he your boyfriend?" To which Arturia replied by subtly shaking her head.
"No! Like I said, he's a friend." She whispered back. Ritsuka and Diarmuid just watched them in confusion before shrugging it off as just some girl's talk.
Another group had arrived, so Ritsuka again bounded off to greet them, Mash trailing behind all his enthusiasm, offering a quick apology for cutting the conversation short. They were fine with it, however, as now they could put all their effort in admiring the endless bounty of food and drink splayed out before them.
"Arturia, this time can you please pinch me to make sure I haven't died and reached heaven?" Diarmuid glanced back and forth between the buffet and the bar,
"No, because I need you to pinch me first." She replied, practically drooling over the glistening plates of sweets.
"I couldn't do that to you."
"Well, me neither."
More blank staring at food ensues.
"Damn, I really should've brought my Tupperware so I can take some of this stuff home."
"Ahh…same."
The green-eyed woman breathed in and then out and clapped her hands together. "Okay, I think we need some sort of rule to keep us from absolutely going nuts like these other goons here." She gestured towards the rowdy sea of people in front of her. The golden-eyed man beside her nodded vigorously.
"Then…how about no sweets?" he pointed at the elegant three-tiered cake, ice cream freezer, among other displays of fine pâtissier work.
"Okayyy…that might be taking it a bit far…" They both chuckled.
"I'm kidding. How about no drinking alcohol? Until Midnight only though. Afterwards, anything is fair game. It's New Year's Eve after all."
"Sounds like a deal."
"Shake on it?"
"Yes. Let honor keep us bound to our promises." Arturia's hand firmly clasped Diarmuid's as they firmly shook on their deal.