I remember when family dinners involved guns and flamethrowers

Emy

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@"Poptart"

Michelle Taylor Ashworth (with Paschalis de Santis)

Inviting Paschalis for dinner was the equivalent of opening a cold case too many times and having the file cabinet fall on her face It was a taxing waste of time, accomplished nothing, and made everybody feel a little less pleased with themselves. It was also completely necessary, because every moment that was spent with Paschalis was one less moment that was being spent with the Ashworth family elders. Michelle, personally, would have liked to think that the man would be just enough of an ass to start turning down their invitations but she knew that he had the same justification regarding the de Santis elders. Thus, they were utterly trapped in a vicious cycle of having dinner with the lesser evil, instead of with the devil himself. Only time would tell if this was a winning scenario.

As she swirled the wine in her glass, she glanced at the other end of the table where her cousin sat. Paschalis was keeping irritatingly to himself, eating with flawless manners and looking as sour as he always did, which honestly would have meant less to her if he were anybody else. But since he was Paschalis, Michelle found herself vaguely annoyed. It was like he thought he was above them or some other nonsense along those lines. She was sure, too, that if they were to replace him with one of the statues in the garden, nobody would be able to tell the difference.

Michael, however, was being an absolute angel. He was her brother so of course he was. She refused to acknowledge that Paschalis had some talent in the area, so as far as Michelle would say, her brother was the only person in this family who could actually cook. He was also sitting between her and Paschalis, which made their cousin even less of her problem. Unfortunately, it had the effect of giving her a clear view of him at all times. On this line of sight between them, it was possible that the room temperature had dropped a dozen degrees or so.

Since they had started eating, nobody had said much of anything. It was just as well, because Michelle was sure that Paschalis would say something unbelievably foolish that she could be righteously vindictive about. Michael, though, tended not to handle silences too comfortably. He would say something soon, she knew and while it would be a difficult task to get her to admit it, Michelle was quietly pleased whenever Paschalis was not.

So she remained silent and sipped her wine, wondering briefly if this was really worth getting away from the other Ashworths.

The answer was Of course.
 

Poppy

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Michael Tyler Ashworth

Michael so loved it when his cousins came over. Paschalis in particular was a real hoot. Now, as far as personality went, Michael has met restaurant receipts that had more personality than Paschalis, but that was part of his charm. He could imagine anything and everything to be Paschalis' personality! There was no real limit to his imagination. Maybe he was a secret astronaut? Who can say for real. Not Paschalis, definitely.

For tonight, Michael prepared a lovely dinner of grilled chicken, red onions and mint kebabs, Greek salad, pita bread, and homemade hummus served with mint lemonade. Since they've been planning this all week, Michael even took the time to make tiramisu for dessert. He didn't skimp on the table decorations, either. As amusing as it was to put a giant vase between Paschalis and Michelle, he opted for a much smaller aquamarine one with red chrysanthemums. Around it were decoration beads. The general palette for the table cloth and plates scheme, much like his own clothing, were impeccable.

And not a single compliment was given.

He was mentally shaking his head.

Michael looked back and forth between Michelle (perfect sister) and Paschalis (pocket-sized cousin) as he brought his own kebab to his mouth. He wondered what would be an acceptable amount of time to start talking because, really, like usual, neither of them were up for conversation. Should he wait until Paschalis finished his salad first? He was just going to go for it.

He moved his chair closer to Paschalis' side of the table, pulling out two magazines: Men's Magazine September 2015 and Living Large September 2015. "So I was thinking that maybe a hobby would be good for you, cuz. And maybe... a change of wardrobe. Because I'm looking at you now, and you don't seem to want to do anything about the whole... vertically challenged situation," he said sympathetically, in the same way he broke bad news to an unfortunate patient's family. "There's no shame in 2-inch heels."
 

Emy

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Paschalis de Santis (with Michelle Taylor Ashworth)

Michelle despised him but it was a mutual sort of hate that gave Paschalis the impression of a business transaction gone right. It was always acceptable to deal with people who presented exactly the same way as they thought, and he had no qualms about returning that favor. It was an incredible pain to deal with people who were too emotionally conflicted to decide whether they truly disliked somebody or not.

At the very least, he was vaguely appreciative of the opportunity to simply not care and not have anybody call him out on it because they were equally uncaring about him. The arrangement itself was convenient, save for the fact that he honestly disliked the Ashworths. Paschalis had met telemarketers more genuine than the two of them combined.

As a person who always held silence in high regard, Paschalis took some time to enjoy the quiet which would be undoubtedly broken at some point, based off of the way that Michael was eyeing them. He might have wished that the younger man would be more serious about matters but then again, the Ashworths were not his family and that was none of his business. Even if they were, Paschalis would still dislike them very much because unlike some people, such as Michelle, Paschalis did not need to disguise the hypocrisy in his ideology. Mainly because his was not nearly so glaringly obvious.

When Michael pulled up closer to him, Paschalis knew that something insulting was about to happen. His first reaction was to give his cousin a blank stare and move a little bit away from the garbage that was about to spill out. In that aspect, at least, his expectations were not at all disappointed. Listening patiently to Michael as he clearly trolled for a reaction, Paschalis thought that maybe he should be offended. It took him a moment or so to come to the conclusion that if he was wondering about it, he probably was offended to some extent.

He had to remember, too, that this was Michael Ashworth.

"I see that you're as discourteous as ever, Michael," Paschalis noted, continuing to eat his meal, just more slowly than before. The food was decent but culinary skills did not constitute an excuse for poor taste. His cousin, however, had his full attention at this point and he made sure to show it because that was called actually having manners. "In any case, I suggest that you invest in a new lawnmower because based off of the state of your face, your current one isn't exactly working wonders for you."
 

Poppy

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Michael took no offense in what Paschalis said. In fact, he was absolutely delighted! He was suddenly filled with nothing but affection for his vertically challenged cousin. Oh, family banter that came with family dinners. They were always a good time. He laughed in delight, settling into the chair he was sitting on.

"God. Green hair, you know? I've always wanted to go for a more rugged action hero look, but it'll end up looking like I'm growing a vegetable patch on my face. Don't get me wrong, I'm super supportive of local farmers, but but not enough to put an artistic rendition on my handsome mug. Hey..." He pulled his chair closer, resting his cheek on the palm of his hands. "...so, how are you? Stare at any interesting walls lately? You know, I don't really know what you do with your spare time. Do you like knitting?"
 

Emy

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Michelle Taylor Ashworth (with Paschalis de Santis)

Quietly, Michelle fumed in her seat. It was just like Paschalis to lay down criticism in their own house. Had he any manners had all? "Cousin," she said, the word coming out in the kind of disdainful tone that somebody would use to bring notice to a cockroach. "It is an absolute wonder to me that with your sort of personality, you still find yourself so lacking in company that you just have to bring your presence here. From time to time, I cannot help but be reminded of that mystery."

Oh, Michael was handling the man well, at least. When it came to dealing with Paschalis, her brother really was her better half. Michelle had a vague idea of what sort of patience it took to suffer with their cousin on a regular patience and at the moment, it seemed like it would be equal to a god's.

Paschalis glanced her way for a moment, meeting her eyes. Then he swept his gaze briefly around the room before staring straight at Michael giving him the cool retort of, "No, I can't say that I've seen anything of interest lately. I do hear that knitting is a relaxing hobby, however. Maybe your sister should think about taking it up."

Under the table, Michelle clenched her fist. She knew exactly what the insults here were. First was the jab about their financial issues, then the one to her brother, and thirdly -knitting. Just what sort of spinster did he take her for?

"Maybe you should think about actually being a gentleman for a change," she snapped. "Or perhaps that is beyond your ability?"
 

Poppy

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In general, Michael considered himself to be the lesser evil. Sure, he'd done enough shit to send all his possible future descendants in jail for the rest of their natural lives, but he was patient with people. Charming. When they said insulting stuff, he saw it as a sport and threw shade back because, hey, banter was the spice that kept parties alive. But Michelle was... different. Michelle took everything very seriously. She was passionate about everything she devoted her time to, and that was great! But he felt a sort of half-afraid nervousness creep up to him when she started insulting him back, an eloquent litany of oh shit oh shit oh shit passing in his head.

Paschalis was way better than he was at handling his twin, because with the words exchanged, Michael felt like pissing his pants a little. He kept his skewer in his mouth, eyes glancing back and forth between the two.

Yeesh. As much as he wanted to pester Paschalis again (and laugh at the idea of Michelle knitting of all things), Michael noticed his sister was pretty offended and killed the words in their tracks. She took priority. He should go ahead and, uh. Fix that. He stood up, picking up the bottle of red wine and pouring some for Michelle. "Shellieeeee~ A friend gave me this wine the other day. She said it was from France. The French make the best wine, right?" When he was done, he raised it up. "Chalice! You want some of this? Or..." He coughed. "Can your body even tolerate alcohol?"

He couldn't help it. The opening was right there.
 

Emy

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Paschalis de Santis (with Michelle Taylor Ashworth)

As Michelle seemed to be temporarily sated by her brother's attentions, Paschalis took the momentary respite to focus back on eating as quickly as he could without a hint of impropriety. Michael was so much better at handling Michelle than he was, but he supposed that was a result of them having been cursed with each other since birth.

At Michael's next fishing comment, Paschalis leveled a stern stare at him. "Ashworth, you know very well what the answer to that question is."

Paschalis did not drink, partially because he had cousins on the other side who could happily fulfill that role for him, and also because he was allergic to alcohol. Granted, that last bit was not very weighty at all considering that he was scoring straight fives down on the allergy spectrum for everything. However, alcohol and allergy medications interacted with each other rather poorly, and it was pointless to compound the issue.

Languidly, Paschalis noted, "I hope you realize that if I die under your roof, the Laughingwoods will be very displeased." The wrath of the Laughingwoods was not one to be taken lightly. They were much older and much more powerful than the de Santis and Ashworths combined and generally did not tolerate their cousins fighting each other. To the death, anyways.
 

Poppy

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"Sorry, cuz. You die at so many things it's so hard to keep track of. Hey, maybe give us a list of the things you're allergic to? Someone dying in two doctors' house would be bad, even if we are just surgeons." He paused, covering his mouth to suppress a chuckle. Don't get him wrong. Family disputes were a terrible, terrible thing, and he acknowledged the full extent of Paschalis' warning and the Laughingwoods' power. But then... "Would you say that... They-Wouldn't-Be-Laughing-Woods?"

He laughed then, setting the wine aside and leaning down to give the back of Michelle's head a fond kiss. Sorry, sis. Sorry, Paschalis. Before either of them could think of a retort or, more likely, stare at them with intense judgment in their eyes, Michael circled the table in big strides.

"I should get dessert! Be nice you two!" he said, before disappearing into the kitchen and pulling out the tiramisu from the fridge, still quietly chuckling at his own stupid joke. They wouldn't be laughing woods. What a classic. He shoved a few jellybeans into his mouth before getting dessert plates and forks, like the thoughtful gentleman he was. "Who wants tiramisuuu?"
 

Emy

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Michelle Taylor Ashworth (with Paschalis de Santis)

Michelle was actually mortified. There were no words to describe how completely appalled she was, and glancing across the table, she saw that Paschalis had an identical drawn look on his face. In that one moment, she knew that the two of them had the same thoughts going through their heads. And that realization brought with it the most sickening feeling she had experienced that entire evening.

Distastefully, she took another sip of her wine to wash down this garbage. Likewise, Paschalis turned away with a disapproving sound and brought his glass of lemonade to his lips. For two people who disliked each other so, they certainly had a lot in common but Michelle would rather remove her own liver than admit it. Without her the use of her powers.

The silence remained until Michael returned with desert. Of course, Michelle had already forgiven him by that point. He was her wonderful little brother and perhaps at any other time, she might have felt secretly humored but having Paschalis around was the same as having a rat living in the kitchen but not knowing where exactly it was.

Michelle cleared her throat. "Ah, Michael. It looks wonderful as always. I have no idea how you manage it." It was all very true, of course. Michael did make the most wonderful food but while a certain annoyance was present, she was extra careful to emphasis this fact. She rather wished that one day, he could simply forget to take his medicine and die of a swollen throat. Not under their roof, of course, and certainly not because of Michael's cooking. That would have been sacrilege.

She gave a stern look to Paschalis as she spoke, one that told him that refusing what was given to him would lead to consequences.