when skies are grey // o - mass m&g

He had seen a few new faces about and couldn’t care less about any of them but Mordecai knew he had to do something. Merely existing was no longer an option, and besides, despite all the change Griffingate had seen, he found himself...bored?

That was a close enough word for it. He hadn’t loved his wife, but he was used to her, and now that she was dead, Mordecai was forced to realize how empty his home felt and tedious his day-to-day was with no one to snipe with passive aggressive insults and backhanded compliments. So...so maybe hosting something in the big, pristine flat would be good for him.

Most people would receive an ornate, immaculately written invitation. Others might’ve simply heard about it. A casual get together, everyone invited come mingle, recuperate in the wake of all the chaos Griffingate’s suffered, introduce yourself to newcomers and catch up with old friends. Something along those lines, but in neat cursive and more formal wording.

He rubbed his temples. The doors were open and food and refreshments were laid out. Alcohol wasn’t within reach but it was in sight - all you’d have to do was ask.