Darkness is a harsh term don't you think [Aldemar, open]

Erik was tickled pink. After a wonderful summer, he was excited to be back in school for a month. Things were interesting with Axel and Emma, not quite where Erik hoped thy would be by now, but he was adjusting and so were they. They were at school now, close by him more often than not, and Emma at least was a member of his own house. He spent many weekends at home with Lottie now, finding the idea of a mate that he saw regularly to be a bit abnormal, but in a good way. Aldemar was different. While Erik saw the other man on a daily basis, it wasn’t the same kind of relationship that they had together. They certainly loved one-another. This love sometimes continued to cuddles and hugs and a few chaste kisses, but it wasn’t quite the same as having a spouse. Erik had never tried to compare Elva and Aldemar, or even Elva and Lottie (though Lottie was still adjusting to the idea of Elva and the women had not yet formally met). Even so, there was something distinct and different he got from each of his three partners that made him feel more whole than he had felt in a long time before. 

Sometimes he missed the companionship when he was with Elva. Things between them were all passion, a strong love surrounded by a strong lust. They ere quick and firey and over in a flash every time he saw her. He thought that she might prefer it that way, as he may seem an adventure to the younger with in small doses, but he imagined the sight of him ina  cuddly jumper relaxing by the fire might bore her in the long-term. She wasn’t the settling-down type. 

When he was with Aldemar, things were adventure and friendship first and foremost. While they had been more wiley in their youth, his advances as of late were typically rebuffed, and so Erik had stopped trying, understanding that Dema needed something else from him. With Aldemar, he missed the passion. 

Lottie was different. She wasn’t as adventurous as Aldemar or Elva, nothing was firey between them but he received consistant companionship and compatibility. He would have liked to date her a while longer before marrying her, but they only had six months left before the child would be born, and he did not want to intentionally leave her alone throughout this journey. He cared for her, but wasn’t sure that he would have married her so quickly otherwise. They were still in the honeymoon phase, both of their marriage and of their dating. It had been only a few months since they had met! He supposed he had done crazier things in his life, though—more daring, at least. This was the right thing to do, though, he supposed. 

He had recently come to discover a child born to him out of wedlock, a young boy named Kari. Erik had tried his best to include Kari in his life, against the younger boy’s sensabilities, but he had never thought in a hundred years he would be a father to anyone, let alone a baby, a teenager, and two step-children whom he already felt very close to. Other than Venera, perhaps, Aldemar’s daughter. She had been annoyed to have missed the wedding, but it had been such a last-minute, whirlwind decision that he did not have time to wait for her. She was ignoring him, pouting to her father, so he had come up with this idea in some respects to placate her. 

Halloween was not a typical sight in Sweden until the mid 1990s. Even so, Erik knew they would be having a celebration (partially due to Durmstrang’s arrival in their town), and Erik wanted to have fun with it. The school had alotted him money to rent out an old house for the month, and the students would be decorating it and acting inside of it as a haunted house for locals and other Durmstrang students. Erik had announced, in his class, the extra credit could be had for voluneteering to work on the event. He had pleased Venera by putting her in charge of the arrangements. She was a spooky sort, loving Halloween and darkness and scary. She lived for something like this. 

As she went around directing others, playing like a film director and helping in almost every aspect of the assignment, Erik was constructing sets and painting them for her. He had a small group of students helping with the detail work, but was definitely doing his share. He pulled away, after the last bit was completed, and took a long sip of cool water from a bottle he kept on his person. It was chilly there, dark almost all day, but the cold water still felt good. Maybe some tea after they were done would be good? 

He approached his friend and smiled warmly at him. “This is coming along nicely, you think? I feel like I’ve given her the go to paint the Mona Lisa.” He smiled, unsure if Aldemar would get a muggle reference but surely he’d heard of that at least. “Venera is loving this. Maybe she’ll start talking to me soon, after all…” 

@Aldemar Delchev

"Maybe," Dema said as he finished what he was working on and moved to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow. "But, probably not," The old wizard chuckled as he spoke. Part of him hoped it wasn't right, but part of him remembered how strained things had been between Venera and himself not that long ago. "Girl knows how to hold a grudge," he began, leaning against a half-built structure that would soon house a mummy or corpse or something, "Gets it from her mother, of course, because as you well know, I am a beacon of forgiveness." They both knew he wasn't. Dema was still holding a grudge about Erik's first marriage and not being invited, and that was Merlin knew how many years ago. And now the man had gone and done just about the same thing to Aldemar's daughter. He felt for Venera, knowing how much she cared for uncle Erik, and how left out she must have felt.

Still, this haunted house idea was a good start on the road to making amends. "She is quite the artist though," Dema's hands fell to his waist as he took another broad look around the village. He had been basically bursting with pride all afternoon, my brilliant daughter this, my beautiful baby girl that, it had probably been quite irritating honestly. Pulling the thick dragonhide gloves from his wrinkled hands, Dema gave his fingers a good stretch. It had been a long time since he'd done manual labor, and even though he'd been using magic for most of it, he still counted it as such. And he was getting tired. It had been a long afternoon, but he could never say no to his daughter, especially not when she asked for help with that look in her eyes. Maybe it wasn't how she meant it, but he couldn't help but feel the pull of guilt when she asked him for something. Remembering all the times that he hadn't been there to help her over the years.

He owed her.

They both did.

"So, uh, hate to ask, but you two did get permission from the powers that be to hold this little event, right?" Dema, always the bummer, had to make sure the proper paperwork had been filled out. Permits, permission, and so on. The last thing he needed was for the lot of them to get arrested just before one of his favorite holidays.

“From her mother, hm?” Erik teased, grinning at Aldemar. “I remember when her father couldn’t make it to my first wedding….” He laughed a bit, knowing that wasn’t exactly what happened. Technically that wedding hadn’t been real—the paperwork was never filed for his elopement with Elva, though their ceremony had been nice. It had all happened so quickly, though, and out at sea. He hadn’t stopped to think about Aldemar, and knew Dema was still sour about it. Even so, Erik felt bad. He had bought her that nice necklace that Venera loved to wear now, but it hadn’t helped much with the sting. She was still reeling about being replaced and unloved by her uncle.

“She is quite the artist. A bit morbid, perhaps, but that’s why this was the perfect thing for her.” He was glad things started coming together. He was glad that the school had allowed this project, as well. He originally had wanted the lower corridors to be changed into the haunted house—this had been the compromise.

“Oh, naturally. Yeshevshy has taken care of all that. Everyone around here is looking forward to seeing what we come up with.” He smiled. He looked around at the other adults helping, and back over at Dema.

“Care for a pint? I’ll buy if you’re interested. It’s about time to wrap up here, anyway.”

"Yes, I remember that too," Dema said with a sarcastic twinge. His head tilted to the side as he pulled a face, clearly displeased by the memory, even so, many years later. As they got older, he had learned he remembered the things in between less and less. Just the big moments really stood out, the good and the bad. "Pity I never got to get you a gift," he raised bushy eyebrows at the other wizard before his wrinkled face began to fade back into a smirk.

"Morbid?" Dema said with a wave of his hand, he could never think anything but the best about his beautiful daughter. He had completely blocked out the death and destruction that was the theme of this haunted fair and focussed on craftsmanship and creativity. Besides, he had spent more than his due time with vampire covens and necromancers; who was he to judge? "There are far worse things she could be obsessed with," He said, oddly defensive, and praying that vampire fantasies outweighed teenage wizards just a littttttttle bit longer.

But not too long.

A sharp nod at the mention of the proper paperwork being completed, Dema let it go at that and perked up when alcohol was brought up. "Throw in some dinner, and you've got yourself a deal Mr. Fisker," he grinned at the other man, moving to grab his gloves and things and wrap a scarf around his neck. "Lead the way," he said as they began to walk. While it might have sounded like he was leaving the venue's choice up to Erik, Dema knew they'd more than likely end up at the same pub they always went to. And he was okay with that. Dema didn't care for change much; he liked his routines.