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He knew that his brother was somewhere on the grounds of the establishment, probably roaming around to his heart's content; but Tolliver St. James did not particularly want to socialize, but he figured he would make an attempt.

Dressed in a simple black suit with narrow lapels and a dark green tie, as well as his gray mask, he limped through the ballroom with the mask tied onto his face and tried to figure out why he was so tired. Perhaps because it was the most activity he had done late at night in ages, but perhaps it was just because physical therapy in general was exhausting and he hadn't even wanted to come in the first place.

"Just for a few hours," Fritz had pleaded. "It'll be fun, I promise"

"Fun, my arse," Tolliver muttered irritably, and wondered if there was any alcohol he could have. He stepped forward, and promptly slipped, knocking into someone standing nearby.

"Bloody hell - sorry," he muttered, attempting to right both himself and his cane.

The first thing Hitch did was pull back, an apology ripe on his tongue and ready to fall since he'd probably been in the way -- but when he realized what was actually happening, he swept close again, clasping the stranger's shoulder to try and steady him. "No, no, I'm sorry, " he said quickly, his hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head. He blew his bangs back out of habit, flashing his 'victim' a half-smile. "Are you okay?"

He flashed back to a moment with his mother struggling to make her way to the bathroom, wheezing for breath. He vividly remembered her glare as she made a move to help him, and loosened his grip on the other man's shoulder. "Uh... cool hair, by the way, " he offered a bit lamely, trying to make up for awkwardness that might not have been there to begin with. (Like he said, this whole thing had been a mistake.)

A grumble of annoyance escaped his throat as he struggled back to upright. Dark red hair was pushed out of Tolliver's face and he turned to look at the person he'd so unceremoniously toppled over.

They were unfamiliar (unsurprising, considering that the total number of people that Tolliver actually talked to was countable on one hand), with dark hair - and yet in spite of a younger face, there were white streaks woven throughout the black.

The stranger was given a flat look that bordered on rude, but it was less out of actual annoyance and more out of curiosity, though he wasn't exactly good at expressing this. Tolliver pushed his fringe out of his eyes, both hands resting on the top of his cane.

"...I'm okay," he said, after a moment, though his bad leg was throbbing a little. A wave of tiredness seemed to wash over him, and his eyes fluttered, Tolliver giving his head a small shake as though trying to clear it.

"...did I step on your foot or anything?" he asked, slightly embarrassed, after a second. "I'm still, er...getting used to walking with this bloody thing," he added, indicating the cane.

To be fair, in his situation, Hitch probably would have thrown the other guy a very, VERY similar look. He was about ready to bow out of the situation to cause minimal trouble when the other man asked him about his foot and made a comment about his cane. Something in Hitch's shoulders relaxed, and his smile came a little more easily as he shook his head. "No man, no, don't even worry about it. This place is sorta... "

His head was swimming, more than he expected; it was sudden, and he tugged at the collar of his suit, drawing in a deep breath and shaking his own head to try and pull himself back together. What the hell? So maybe he was sort of tired. So maybe it was sort of warm in here. So there were a lot of people. But all of a sudden, it was taking everything he had to stay on his damn feet, and then that wasn't even enough.

"... the hell, " he managed to gasp out loud before his eyes rolled back and slid shut, falling like pure dead weight straight into the food table behind him with a resounding crash.

Tolliver managed to relax a little, in spite of the awkward first meeting. He shifted from his bad leg to his good and said, "That's a relief, I thought I might have smacked into you, or something, and that would have been rather embarr..."

But he trailed off, looking taken aback. The young man was swaying, tugging at the collar of his shirt, and in spite of Tolliver himself not particularly feeling good at the moment, he reached out and awkwardly tapped his shoulder in a flustered sort of way.

"Hey, are you - " he started to say, but before he could finish his sentence, the young man had tilted backwards, and then he'd collapsed, and Tolliver was neither strong enough, nor fast enough to prevent him from smacking into the table. Tolliver made a sound of shock, stepping forward and slightly awkwardly getting to his knees, touching the young man's arm.

"Hey - are you okay? Nurse!"

A supposed "nurse" bustled over almost too quickly, calling one or two others over to gather Hitch up into a mess of limbs, cheese, and dip. She flashed Tolliver a smile -- it was meant to be reassuring, but something about it seemed off. "He'll be fine. You can come see how he's doing if you like, " and just like that, she was gone, probably floating off to the next victim.

It took about ten minutes for Hitch to groggily force his eyes open, groaning low in his throat as he rolled onto his side. "The fu -- " Where the hell was he? There were people all over the same place, and noise in every direction that made his head throb. He hissed lowly as he got up, the pieces slowly coming back together as he pressed his palm to his forehead. "What...?"

"You got a little too hot, " a voice explained, and he whirled to meet the smiling face of a nurse. His face grew hot, more out of embarrassment than anything else, as she passed him his mask. "But you're fine now. Please go enjoy the party."

"I'm... " He was being hustled on unsteady out before he could ask much more. "But I just got here, " he remarked irritably to the air, because with all the madness on all sides, who the hell would listen? So he'd felt a little hot before he'd passed out, and so he was a little tired, but...

He wasn't sure whether to be mortified that his first big 'venture' into the city had led to his fainting like a damn damsel in distress, or seriously concerned because come on. That was a lot of people down, wasn't it? "Can't anyone be bothered to turn down the goddamn heat then and -- holy s**t!" He looked down and realized that his suit -- his ONLY suit, by the way -- was completed covered in the goddamn snack table. "Oh you've gotta be <******** shitting me!" he snarled to no one, looking frantically for a napkin or ANYTHING.

Tolliver found the smile of the nurse not to be reassuring, but instead rather annoying; he disliked having no answers, and being brushed off made him somewhat disgruntled. And in spite of not knowing the young man he had stumbled into, there was also a part of him that disliked loose ends.

And he was curious. He limped along behind the nurses, cursing the strange tiredness in his bones and also for the fact that he was going to see if some stranger was all right.

Tolliver waited outside of the other room, idly tapping his cane against the floor. Privacy was nice, after all, and he wasn't about to just barge into a room without permission. A few minutes later, however, the young man with the salt and pepper hair stumbled out, and before Tolliver could call out to him, he'd been hustled back into the main ballroom.

He scowled.

He made his way along the wall and back into the room, edging past throngs of people and finally found the man he was looking for. Tolliver reached behind him, plucked up a few napkins from a nearby table, and stepped over toward where his new acquaintance was standing.

"Here," he said quietly, holding out the napkins and looking slightly embarrassed; he had, after all, kind of followed a complete stranger around. "Use these."

When he first glanced at Tolliver, his eyes were dark and stormy, his lips curled in an almost inhuman snarl - but it quickly melted away when he realized not only who it was, but that it was someone who wanted to help. If it was anything else he would have recoiled, but this - it was a basic human thing, a nice thing. "Uh, wow. Thank you, " he said lowly as he took the offered napkins, dipping his head to the other man.

Who'd seen him faint, he realized with more than a touch of embarassment. "I really don't know what happened. I mean I'm a little tired, but this... " The staff carried someone else by, limp like he was. "Not THAT tired. I mean I am now, I guess, " he sounded like he was doubting himself, and he sighed, trying to dab some more dip off his sleeve. He was frustrated. Embarrassed. But still grateful.

"Oh, I - " Hitch looked up, toying idly with the back of his lip piercing between his teeth. "I'm Logan, by the way. Most people just call me Hitch though. And thanks again."

To his credit, Tolliver didn't flinch or back away at the expression on the other man's face. He did, however, blink at him with slight annoyance that was more for himself than anything else, half due to the fact that his head was going See, he's angry, this was a bad idea, coming back here. This is why I don't socialize with anyone.

But the angry expression on the stranger's face melted away a second later, and some of the tension eased from Tolliver's shoulders.

"It's all right," he said, shifting from one foot to the other to try and ease the ache in his leg. He swayed a little where he stood, his mind feeling fuzzy, his body feeling sluggish. "It's a little hot in here, I figure things happen and whatnot. To be honest, I'm not feeling all that great myself, so don't worry too much about it."

At least now he had a name to the face. Tolliver hesitated a moment, and then said, "I'm Tolliver. Sorry about your, er..." He gestured to the other man's front. "...suit. Do you need help with anything? It's really kind of chaotic in here."

Hitch couldn't help but laugh; it was a short, harsh sound. "Honestly? - I think 'kind of' might be an understatement at this point. Another guy just fell over, and - and I think some people are wearing costumes?" He almost spoke in awe when people in strange uniforms began to crop up, among other things. "What the hell kind of party even is this? I mean, s**t - "

Like he was just remembering the offer, the familiar burn of embarassment slipped along Hitch's cheeks, even seeping down the back of his neck. "Tolliver - " He would make sure to remember him, at any rate. "I think that this might be a little beyond help, " he sighed, glancing down at himself again with more than a little frustration. Though in all honesty, he'd take being frustrated over the gravity of realizing he'd probably ruined the suit his mother had -- don't think about that now. "But this - I mean - someone's called 911 or something by now, haven't they? The police? Something?"

On a whim, he reached into his suit and fumbled for his pack of cigarettes. He needed one damnit, and with all the other s**t flying, he'd laugh in the face of anyone who told him to take it outside.

He glanced around, a certain sense of confusion and mingled anxiety beginning to rise in Tolliver's throat. Hitch was right, there were people falling all over the place, running this way and that, and several were yelling, shouts echoing across the spacious room. He caught a glimpse of the "strange uniforms," a frown on his face.

"You're probably right," he said grimly, shifting his cane. "It looks like a bloody mess in here. I'm not sure if anyone's called the coppers, but if they haven't yet, somebody bloody well do it now, otherwise everything's shot to hell in a hand basket."

He glanced sideways at his companion, caught sight of the cigarette, and couldn't help a snort of amusement that in the midst of this mass hysteria, Hitch was needing a smoke. It was a very apt reaction, he thought.

"Need a light?" Tolliver asked, quite sincerely, the smallest smile tugging at his lips in spite of the situation around them.

Over there, a girl dropped her dress as she sprouted scales and a tail and then spawned a new get-up in seconds flat. Then there was the guy pulverizing people and stuffing them into revolving doors. He swore he heard the yowl of a damn cat somewhere over all the screaming and yelling. There was the constant ping of a sound that was like - like what? He'd never heard a damn thing like it. Almost like a damn old school laser gun, and some had flashy special effects to match.

Hitch smiled too, because he was too overwhelmed to do much else, or even process what he was seeing. "Yeah, I'll take that light - you want?" Hitch held out the pack as he slowly shook his head. "Then I'm calling the ******** cops and... and then... ********, we'll cross the bridge when we get there, huh?"

Should they run? Tolliver clearly couldn't. Should they fight? No, Hitch didn't know what he was up against here, and again, Tolliver. "Maybe get us the ******** out of here." Hitch had come for cheap food ajd some decent music. ********, it was laughable now, wasn't it?

He fumbled around in the pocket of his coat for a moment and then pulled out the lighter, clicking it so that the small flame leapt into being and extended his arm toward Hitch.

"Don't mind if I do," said Tolliver, and with his free hand took a cigarette for himself. He popped it into his mouth, clenching it between his teeth, and waited for the other man to light up before he moved the lighter to his own, inhaling a sharp breath of smoke and then exhaling.

"This is bloody ridiculous," he muttered, trying to shift away from the chaos, but his cane made things slow going. He glanced sideways at his new companion and heaved a breath. Like or not, he'd gotten himself into this mess, and now it was time to try and get out of it.

Tolliver sighed. "Let's just see how far we can get, we can just stand here and wait for something to happen. Maybe if we can't get out, we can at least hide.

Hitch inhaled deeply, savoring the soothing sensation of smoke pouring into his lungs. "Bathroom, " he breathed out with a wisp of white curling around his lips. "What do you think? Hide out there, lock ourselves in until... " Until when? Until it got quiet? "Until someone ******** gets their lazy a** over here and deals with... whatever the ******** this is!" He gestured wildly to the whole mess before grabbing his phone to go ahead and make the call to 911. No one would believe him if he gave the whole story, sure, but if he said a mob had broken out and it had gotten violent? Yeah, that would be sure to get plenty of attention.

He couldn't help thinking back on how relieved he'd been to find a place to go with cheap rent and decent job openings. Some part of him had thought it seemed too good to be true. Sometimes he REALLY hated being right.

By the time he made it out of the ballroom, Jasper had to wonder if he had just stepped out of the pan and into the fire. It was 100% chaos all around the hotel. People were fighting each other, others were running around like their heads had been cut off, and still more were on the floor. A thought passed through his mind that the safest place to be now might be on the floor pretending to be out of it. But with that came the chance of being stepped on...

That could ruin his tuxedo and his hair.

So that choice was out as he stepped over an over turned chair and made his way down the wall. One hand on the wall at all times was a way to find an exit and insure he didn't double back. That was until he spotted something small and fluffy running around under people's feet.

"A cat? Here?" Really this place was starting to turn even more upside down. Was it going to start snowing inside too?

Shaking the thought, he bent down and moved towards the feline, hands out stretched to pick it up from behind. Jasper was not one to get fur all over his clothes so he held it out at arms length. At least you won't get stepped on..." He commented heading back towards the wall. However, it was then he spotted two males, both not acting strange and both smoking heading towards the bathroom. Best idea yet if that door had a lock.

Thus, cat in hands, he followed them and dove into the strangely quiet male's room. "Some party." He said gazing for a lock.

The cigarette was reassuring; Tolliver hadn't smoked in quite some time, and now that he was back to it, it was a familiarity that he needed right now, in the midst of all the chaos.

"Better than nothing," he said grimly, feeling enormously pathetic for having a leg that was not conducive to actually running like normal people. Mentally he exhaled a variety of swear words and curses at this fact, but externally he just exhaled a breath of smoke.

"Let's go," said Tolliver, as the two of them moved - but no sooner had they entered the mens' room, did he realize that it was already occupied.

"What the bloody hell...is that a cat?"

By the time Hitch hung up the phone, he felt vindication wash over him -- yet, at the same time, he was disturbed as all hell. "I was the first person to call, " he remarked out loud, shaking his head in disbelief. One more thing to drop in the bucket of ******** up things tonight, wasn't it? The hotel staff should have called 911 ages ago. What the hell was wrong with this town?

He took another long puff of his cigarette, a hint of anxiety washing over him when he saw some other guy duck into the bathroom first. Might be an enemy, might be someone looking for their own place to hide -- not like he had any issue with Tolliver's cane or anything, he just -- he didn't want anything to happen to him, that's all. He was keeping a sharp eye out for danger, but even thought they were moving slow, it was like being in the eye of a storm.

When they finally got to the bathroom, Hitch was relieved that the other guy seemed decent, and couldn't help but laugh. "You're tellin' me -- it always like this?" he grunted. Then when Tolliver drew attention to the bundle in the other guy's arms, Hitch only looked vaguely surprised. "I thought I might've heard a cat before!" He stepped towards the other guy, his lips down turned in a frown. "Poor b*****d. Might be terri -- wait a ******** second."

Okay, NOW he was surprised. "Is... that cat ******** CRYING?"

"I would hate to see the cleaning and repair bill for the hotel if it is." Jasper responded to what appeared to be the older man of the pair. All the while, he was struggling to hold the feline in his hands as it wiggled and fought. "Cat, if you cut me, I will drop you in a not so gentle..."

And then the cat started to cry a most human of cries. Jasper would not have even dreamed to believe it had the male with the cane not pointed it out. Purple eyes widened and he looked from feline to the other males. They heard this too right?

No words passed his lips when they came from the cat instead. Jasper, out of shock, fear, and surprise, dropped the fur ball straight down and backed up towards the wall. "It.....It TALKED?!?!" He nearly screamed out as his face almost turned white enough to match his hair..

"You both hear this right? I'm not losing it any more than this night has caused? That thing spoke?" His voice carried the panic he felt as he looked from the cat to the men and back to the cat.

"Something is seriously bloody messed up," Tolliver muttered to Hitch, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not holding his cane. His cigarette was held between his teeth, his voice slightly strained. "Out of all of the bloody people in this place, nobody thought to call 911? There are bloody terrorists running around everywhere, what the actual - "

But his attention was drawn once more to the cat in the newcomer's arms. Tolliver gave it a suspicious look; he'd never been one for animals, and Fritz's insistence that they own a cat of their own had made the other twin quite irritated.

Except this cat was not like Fritz and Tolliver's cat, because this cat could talk. And cry.

And shoot laser beams out of its head.

Tolliver let out a yell of fear and surprise, reaching out to grasp whoever was nearest to him and yank them out of the direct line of fire. His bad leg wasn't supportive enough, and he toppled sideways, landing in a heap on the tile floor, a curse escaping his lips as his heart rate sped up rapidly.

He blinked, trying to calm himself, dragging in great gulps of air. His cigarette lay on the floor beside him, smoking gently.

"What. The. Bloody. Hell. Just. Happened."

Honestly, Hitch was willing to accept a talking cat. After everything he'd seen so far tonight, ******** as it all was, a talking cat was more like icing on the proverbial cake than the main event.

But when aforementioned tiny, adorable, talking cat began shooting ******** LASERS AT PEOPLE? Yup, okay. That was worth freaking out over. Hitch made an undignified yelp of surprise that he would not admit to later as he jerked back. Tolliver was a lot more valiant than he was in that moment, doing something to try and help the other guy, but honestly Hitch couldn't tell if the laser had hit him or not and --

"Sorry?" he repeated, lowering his arms and widening his eyes as he stared at the cat. "You just shot a laser at us. A ******** laser!" His cigarette fell to the floor in his mini-rampage. "My suit's ********, there's people being shoved into doors, there's monsters and weirdo costumed freaks running around out there and you talk and -- and -- LASERS!" he shouted, like he was exasperated.

Then he took a moment, closed his eyes, rubbed his temples, and turned around to go try and offer a hand to Tolliver. All the while muttering to himself, "Lasers... sorry she says! Lasers!" At the very least, he could finally hear sirens. Thank GOD. About time!

Jasper didn't have time to react, let alone think as the panicking ball of fuzzy screamed, ran around and then....the star on the forehead began to glow.

"What the..."His voice was level at that moment before suddenly, he was pulled off his feet and towards the ground, landing atop of the man with the cane. Now normally Jasper might have apologized to the poor guy but as he rolled to get off him, something dawned on the white haired teen that resulted in a more pressing issue.

"I can't feel my hand! What the hell did you do to my hand?" Jasper was calling out in panic as he grabbed onto his left wrist, starting at his hand that was frozen in what many might call 'jazz fingers'.
When he had been grabbed and jerked to the side, his hands had flown out, trying to naturally react and catch his balance, only to result in one hand being now frozen in the state of free-fall panic.

Glaring back at the cat, Jasper turned his hand towards its fuzzy face and waved the numb area wildly. "FIX IT" He nearly screamed not noticing the other two men appeared to be keeping their cool much more than him.