Eye stared down at the swirling liquid within that ill gotten glass. Confusion as to what even lay harbored inside, further uncertainty lingering on just why that man insisted this sparkling liquid was any better than what cascaded over polished surfaces. No matter the reasons if so many others downed such a drink it had to be good! Yet before he could get to tasting there was another to track down in the crowd but while she had given direction, she’d offered no clues as to what she wore. If it would be the same shades worn in the market or something far flashier, closer to what decorated those he could only label as entertainment.

Crown shook as steps began to pull away, but a glance offered brief distraction. The figure of one familiar captured in his peripheral. One which brought a more noticeable turn of his head as if to ensure a mind did not play tricks. What was she doing here? A question he could ask so many though an answer would no doubt be the same - to partake in the festivities provided. Whatever, Fineás had no intention of hanging around the fountain especially if old timers were going to continuously shoo him away from it. At least he wasn’t going to leave empty handed.

The goblet cradled with both hands while attentions temporarily held to the very frame stared at when facing a wild hound. Maybe she wouldn’t notice this time, however, he wasn’t going to hang around and risk listening to a lecture. Focus swiftly turning back toward the crowd as hurried step carried him into that unfamiliar sea. Passing faces offered nothing more than a glance, searching for something familiar that would hold his gaze. And eventually it would come in the styling and tone of hair. While so many others could have worn theirs in the same manner, this one held recognizable features beneath it, “Julie! There you are, why’d ya make me look so hard?” 

Breath huffed in disapproval as if it were something she could help, as if she had not kept her own eyes peeled in search. Though any ‘annoyance’ quickly passed, “But never mind that, look what I got!” A glass held as if it were a prized possession stolen away from the hosting family, “Do you know what it is? Some loser said this one tasted best.”

Features would pinch lightly at the look he received, did she not know what it was either? Is that why she made such a face? Though before he could offer some snide retort her voice would rise, chasing away the assumptions that she was as clueless as he over this matter. So while he knew of metals and jewels she knew of what these so called nobles thought was fancy. However, the name applied was not where his assumptions originally laid when setting sights upon the flowing substance.

To he it looked like blood.

The favored drink of those not only within the shadowed embrace of the city he dwelt in but to a number of his family as well, even if they held little choice in the matter. It was what what he knew the damned to thrive on, however, this smelled fruity. Almost sweet compared to the metallic tang which wafted from the glasses back home. Wine? Half sights drifted down to the crimson liquid, swirling it lightly in his hand to watch the way it seemed to shimmer before focus returned to Julie with a short shake of his crown. “Not yet. I don’t go around puttin’ weird things in my mouth like some people.” Not without knowing what it was anyways.

But so many had seemingly flocked around this particular beverage. That meant it had to be good, right? Even if he had never tasted it before and had been shooed away from the more viscous alternative back in Lavalles, there was opportunity to sample it now. “Any idea what this shit’s supposed to taste like? Mom drinks it a lot but she’s never called it wine.” Because it wasn’t wine, it was a substance which pulsed beneath the very flesh so many craved. Wild eyes of those who hungered more openly always whirling upon he or any other that bled, whenever a pulse jumped at the feeling of those unfamiliar staring.

Right now there was no difference between the two other than smell and consistency, spices likely added to twist the flavors into something more palatable to all who attended. These nobles got one thing wrong though, if it was anything like what the damned drank it hardly made them ‘fancy’. More so tamed the wild gleam in their eyes or sparked it to grow ever brighter in their thirst. “Never seen it make her,” or any else for that matter, “some fancypants either.” The harshness of her words were still the same. The looks issued whenever it was declared he’d done something utterly stupid.