Bubble bubble, toil and trouble (private)

The only thing going through Mitya's mind at the precise moment of arriving at his unlikely new acquaintance's residence was that he was late. He really hated to be late, but he had of course had to take a trip to any local shop to buy some sort of offering sacrifice gift for his hosts. He had never been a fan of the superstitions that his family had subscribed to, but bringing a gift, even something small, was just common decency. Even in the case of going to the home of someone he had initially been wary of.

It was odd, actually. He had been so nervous of Ms van Drakke and Lurch her gentleman friend before, but going over the incident in his head afterwards, he couldn't find any logical reason why he should have been. He'd brushed off the feeling of being.... controlled somehow... as sheer paranoia, something he was still trying to bring himself to let go of. Even so... he still wasn't sure he liked him all that much.

Making his way inside, he hoped his paltry gift of flowers (it was the biggest bouquet they'd had and yet it still felt rather small, especially in this place) wouldn't earn him some sort of black mark against him. Looking around, he was pleased to note that he was not the only one in costume. He wasn't the sort for dressing up unless he was dancing, but at the same time he wasn't the sort to put on his fanciest suit and claim to be James Bond. So instead, he'd gone out to find a suitable costume, and after a long search for something respectable, instead he'd turned up as a mime, dressed in a black outfit that clung far too close to his body for a gathering like this... and he'd only realised it now on approaching his hosts.

He greeted them each stiffly by name, though he was fairly certain that a "lol silly mimes don't talk; stfu" was about to be sprung on him. "I brought flowers, simply a token of gratitude; I'm sorry I couldn't bring something perhaps more practical." Like a box of vodka. To him, during parties? Oh yeah, he hated vodka but it could surely be practical. Spotting Josh across the room, he waved hello with a white-gloved hand.