( a swanky order conference )

[romanticism]

[ These events lose their charm very quickly. They all follow the same dreary pattern, beginning with a slight sparkle of class in the sweeping ballrooms hired out in the interests of accommodating the rather large Order contingent, but always ending with the usual lack of consensus and cloud of bickering. For an organisation as broad and all encompassing as the Order, there are few matters that they actively agree on. As an operative with something of an intolerance for flying and similar forms of travel, Oxford finds himself constantly wondering why it is that he is often chosen to attend these events. This particular journey would have been near excruciating - as it is taking place in Washington D.C - were it not a happy coincidence that a certain teleporter owed Oxford a favour (most teleporting operatives often made clear that they were not a courier service or handy travel alternative), but as the end of the conference draws nearer, Oxford is left with the uncomfortable prospect of returning to the UK. His flight is tomorrow, at quarter to midday, and it is the very reason that Oxford is quietly lurking in the low lighting of the small, elegant hotel bar. He has had about three drinks too many, and it has not put him in the most forgiving of moods. In the past hour he has been accosted by a variety of attractive and urbane looking individuals, and while this usually would have ended with Oxford vastly enjoying his last night in this otherwise incredible city, he has been unusually unreceptive to the attention of others. No one can slip past the dreaded thought of having to be on a plane tomorrow. (Yes, this is an absurdly petty reason for Oxford to be in a sulk, but sadly, he specialises in petty - and he really loathes flying.) Having shot off yet another awkwardly worded and slowly written text to Cambridge - a quick and irritable comment on how his standards seem to have suddenly shot up to be on par with Cambridge's own in the past evening - Oxford toys with the idea of another drink. He isn't particularly drunk, as such, just a combination of being perhaps more brutally open that he might usually be, and a touch on the sleepy side. Well, it's early still. There's time enough to drink oneself into a temporary coma, if necessary. ]