I dare you to ruin my buzz

"Well, it's no Telluride, but it's quaint."

Sutton Astor was potentially one of the most pompous men on the face of the planet, but Elsie adored him like you loved an ex-stepbrother who got really hot - half of her wanted to punch him in the face, but his pretty face was too nice to punch. Honestly, Sutton had only recently begun treating her like a human being, as he had been stuck with her for the past four days, while his cousin Asher attended to every one of Claire's needs. The four had figured a vacation to a lodge would take their minds away from their home in America, as business was keeping them all away, and Sutton had begun to enjoy Elsie's company, only slightly bitter to have not landed the blonde as his ward.

Forgetting America was difficult as Sutton seemed incapable of stopping his incessant comparisons of the luxury Canopy Lodge to his favorite lodge in Colorado. They were at the bar talking to an opulent looking couple in their thirties, and Sutton was pulling out all of the stops.

"Telluride? Oh, it's in Colardo - absolutely breathtaking. I try to spend at least three or four weeks in Telluride every year. I get lunch with Ralph Lauren - Junior, of course, as poor old senior has been long buried, bless his soul-"

Elsie downed another cocktail, sighing. She had not dressed for elegant society, instead donning an outfit more befitting the thirties and under club that was just down the street. She was certain, somewhere in the lodge, Claire was trying to talk Asher out of going, and was probably succeeding as the Roosevelt found some millionaire to act sycophant to, just as Sutton had. It seemed Elsie was the only one committed to partying, and her patience had run thin.

A hand fluttered delicately onto the crook of Sutton's arm and he turned to look at a deviously stunning Elsie Norton, who was smiling up at him. "I'm going to use the restroom. Why don't you and the Connors get a seat by the fire? I'll join you soon!"

"That's a great idea," Sutton said, looking incredibly pleased that Elsie seemed to have changed her mind about leaving. "Shall we?"

The trio strolled off while Elsie pretended to struggle with her purse. Once they had settled, she looked up at the bartender. "Something strong please - don't tell me what."

Whatever it was, it was poured into a flute and the money was exchanged. She carried the flute with her across the floor, drinking it down in a single gulp as she left the bar. It hit her throat heavily and her eyes winced, but a fire turned over in her belly. She had been sucking down cocktails for the better part of forty five minutes and she would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling it.

She, of course, had no intention on returning. She hit the button for the lift and stepped inside. As soon as the door closed she tapped her wand to the flute and the drink refilled.

This is why she loved magic.

Darren was certainly not supposed to be at the lodge. That, by all accounts, was absurd for someone like him. He was only there for the night as far as he could tell, which he supposed was better than sticking around too long. But it was something he couldn't avoid. After all, as someone who was evading arrest, he had few options. The Ministry wasn't likely to search for a presumably poor university student at a lodge as nice as this one. Right? He had assumed it was true, as evidenced by his appearance there that night. He only intended on staying a couple days, but it couldn't necessarily be helped. Hopefully he would hear from one of his (few) friends soon, giving him the go-ahead to travel to somewhere he felt more comfortable. He wasn't exactly suited for the life that the people around him seemed used to.

And so it was that the evening found Darren sitting outside of the main room of the lodge, near to the bar but not quite within. Old enough, though he was, to request a drink without worry, the boy - a young man, really - didn't have it in him to consider getting inebriated. It would have been nice, he supposed, but not worth it. Remaining alert would certainly be wiser than taking chances, he mused silently.

The book in his hand had quickly grown dull, not helped by the fact that he continually found himself glancing around with worry that he might be found out. The first time he had been approached by Ministry personnel, Darren had lied and resisted arrest, leading them to try and track him down despite the revoking of the Marriage Law. So, even into the holiday season, he was supposed to serve time in Azkaban. It wouldn't be too terribly long, he knew, if he turned himself in. But he did not believe it to be worth the time. Especially not when he had an incredibly intriguing Ravenclaw that he was supposed to be working with. Spending time away from their meetings was not as simple as he had expected, but he knew that it was simply because her case had become more and more interesting as they talked and tried to work through things.

Indeed, he could have been a counselor in the making. Well, he could have, were it not for his propensity to aim for getting a rise out of someone rather than solving their problems. He cared more about finding out why someone reacted and how they did so than about helping them to get past their innate responses.

Finally, he let out a huff and pushed himself from his chair, taking the book with him. He couldn't stand it any longer. At least, in the safety of his room, he had a smaller chance of being found out by those who would get him into trouble. So Darren checked the page number as he headed towards the elevator, shutting the pages together.

The only other person on the lift was a brunette who almost seemed relieved to be heading up, when most people were only just getting their night started. She had a drink in hand, but Darren felt it was a safe bet to assume that it was not her first of the evening. After all, most people wore the tell-tale signs of alcohol on them, whether it was a bit of swaying or a particularly relaxed expression to match equally soft posture.

When she refilled the drink, Darren let the corner of his mouth that she could not see lift in a smirk. A sigh left him and he stuffed his free hand - the one not wrapped around the bindings of his book - into its proper pocket. It was brilliant timing, too, given that a chill came over him quite suddenly.

"The hell?" he muttered, looking up at the ceiling of the lift. Something that seemed to be a cloud now blocked his sight of the box's actual roof, and things that could only be snow flurries had started to fall towards Darren and the girl next to him. "Of all the stupid... What are you on about, then?" he asked the girl, passing her a disapproving glare. Drunk or not, playing tricks like this did not make any sense.

He shook his head, tucking the book into the inner pocket of his coat before returning his hand - and the other one, too - to his pockets. As if the very building was objecting to the idea of snow within its walls, the lift shuddered, squealing to a halt and shaking as though it threatened to drop them to the very base of the lobby, where they had started. Darren's feet spread wider, pushing the first layer of snow aside as he tried to regain his balance.

"If this is you," he added, accusing her once more, "just cut it out. Now that we're stuck, we'll just freeze to death at this rate."

Elsie really just wanted to get where she was going. If Sutton, and Asher, and Claire thought they could ruin her fun by simply refusing to join her on her quest to the club, they really did not know her as well as she hoped they would. It would be a fun night regardless. She already had a head start, but at the club, there would be tons of men buying her drinks. She would probably dance the night away, claim the most attractive man on the dance floor as her own, bring him back to the lodge, and brag about it to her friends to hide her raging hangover.

She was really living the life.

Another person joined her in the elevator, but she was too busy gulping down another glassful of her drink. She would be ashamed, but she had never felt shame before, and she had no plans to start now. As she was finishing the drink, she felt something fall on her shoulder. She gulped the drink down and turned, squinting at her shoulder. As she did, a snowflake fell upon the tip of her nose. She blinked and pulled her head back - what the hell?

The other occupant of the elevator spoke her thoughts, and she shrugged, absent-mindedly lifting her empty glass to her lips, when the elevator suddenly jolted and stopped. She slowly lowered the glass, looking up into the grates where a steady flow of snowflakes was now falling. She turned at the other man's accusation and looked at him like she was crazy. She tilted her head. "Do you see my hair?" she asked, as though convinced he had not. "Frizz-free and perfectly styled for a night out. Do you think I'd throw that all away for a juvenile little prank?"

Her social status was really showing, wasn't it?

((Sorry, my muse is weird right now.)

Darren's eyebrows lifted at her words, wondering if she was more straightforward after drinking, or if she just always spoke like that. Looking her over, he had to assume that it was just who she was, since he had no other information to go off of. It amused him, though, belatedly. She was just as upset as he was, and Darren always got a kick out of seeing others dealing with things that they would rather not have to. This girl did not seem, thus far, to handle such situations well. Though, he supposed that the attitude could just have easily come from his assuming it was her fault.

He probably should not have done that, given that they were now trapped in the stupid lift together. Or, it seemed like they were. Testing the theory, Darren pressed buttons by the door, starting with the Open Doors option, then moving to the Call For Help one. No one answered, though, so he came to the conclusion that the elevator probably wasn't the only place in the lodge that was having trouble with the snow. All over the building, people were probably wondering what was going on and trying to get rid of the snow.

Speaking of that. Darren pulled out his wand and tried out a warming charm on the snow at his feet. It did nothing, though, making him frown. Instead, he cast the charm over himself and found that, while it did help a bit, there was a bit of a chill in his bones that seemed unwilling to go away.

Curiosity struck him, perhaps at a bad time, so he turned to the woman next to him and cast the same charm in her direction, merely hoping she would not hex him for sending a spell in her direction. He wanted to know what a bit of generosity from someone who had just accused her of something bad would do to her personality. He considered offering her the sweater he wore over his tee-shirt, but supposed that would be a bit much, at least for now. Perhaps if she complained he would add that and see what she did.

In a matter of moments, the elevator box had turned into an experiment room in a psychology study for the University student. Unfortunately for the brunette next to him, Darren didn't really feel very guilty for it.

"Well," he started, leaning against the back wall, probably a bit too close to her given that they were strangers, "In the assumption that we're here for a bit, why don't you tell me why you're dressed up to go out, yet are currently drinking alone and heading upstairs instead of down?"