A board sat spread out on a desk, awaiting players to come along and play. A slender hand collected the figures from the box which had been set aside and set them in their respective squares.

A knock sounded at the door and the figure looked up. A man poked his head into the room and they made eye contact. He held an apple in one hand which had been bitten into, already.

"Boss," he said, holding the door handle with one hand, "The guests are arriving. Mister Densen has asked all guests report to the front hall for an announcement."

"Excellent," the man smiled, picking up a few dice from the box and rolling them across the board, "I'll be right there in a moment, Gail."

"Alright," the lackey shrugged, turning to go. The man turned back to his board and observed the dice.

Snake eyes.

"It was sure brave of Magnus to host all these people, huh?" Alfred Jones asked, sliding up to stand next to an old English friend of his, Arthur Kirkland. He wore an extravagant red suit accented with gold and black. A matching fedora sat on his head and a golden pocket watch chain hung out of his pocket. There was no wondering if he was the most attention drawing character in the room. He was an American opportunist looking for just that in the European countries. So far, he'd made quite a small fortune in doing so.

"I suppose," Arthur grunted in response. In stark contrast to Alfred's outfit, Arthur wore a simple blue suit and a white hat sat atop his head. Arthur came from old money and was a bit arrogant because of it, but also held all the mannerisms of a true Englishman and was nothing short of a king when it came to passive aggression, although he was known to raise his voice if pushed beyond reason or forced to work with idiots.

"Surely he invited everyone he knew," Alfred chuckled, watching the crowded room shuffle as the many guests walked around greeting one another. Some were old friends or long time allies, but most were more prone to glare at nemeses' across the room or exchange quiet snarky conversations with rivals.

In truth, they all knew why most of them were there. Mister Magnus Densen was rather wealthy and he had no children of his own. Each person in the room was searching for at least a small percentage of that immense fortune. Alfred could not bring himself to admit otherwise - Or, at least in his own mind. It would not do well to let the man know that, himself.

All of a sudden, the loud chatter seemed to quiet down and Alfred turned his gaze up to the balcony over the stairs, where Magnus stood, leaning over the railing with a smug look painted on his face. He wore a simple black suit, as did the man standing to his right; who was his butler, Berwald Oxenstierna. His house hand, Tino Väinämöinen, wore white.

The man to his left was his brother, Lukas Bondevik, dressed in a maroon. Lukas was a highly successful psychic and dealt with magic and the spirit world, although getting him to give a reading with a smile was nearly impossible. Magnus' nephew, Erik Steilsson, was also there, wearing a grey suit. As was common with the family, they all seemed to be a little off their rockers.

"Guests!" Magnus called, spreading his arms out, "I thank you all for attending this little get together I have prepared! I would like to make a few things clear before we begin."

"One, there is a small house to the south side of the property. This is where my staff resides and it is asked that you do not cause them too much damage," Magnus explained, "Two, a study on the third floor is my personal private study and I ask - No, insist - that you stay out of there. And finally, this is a party. If you all aren't totally drunk by the time it's over, you're doing it wrong!" A loud cheer of agreement spread across the room and the loud chatter started back up, drowning out any further interruptions.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred's eyes roamed the room until they landed on a figure a few yards away. He wore a long coat and his face was hidden behind a dark hat and further obscured by a cloud of smoke coming from his cigar. Hovering around him like satellites were seven men, all of whom appeared to quite obviously be underlings, "You see those guys over there?"

"What?" Arthur questioned, turning to look where Alfred was referring to, "Oh, you mean those over there with Aurelio Powers?"

"Is that the one with the cigar?" Alfred asked, to which Arthur nodded, "Who is he, anyways?"

"Nobody is quite sure," Arthur answered, "Though most believe he has something of an line of connections. The guy to go to if you need some favours, but I wouldn't recommend it if you still have other options. Paying him back can be nothing short of a bitch. Nobody can prove he's murdered anyone, but I would believe it if he had. If nothing else, he's got a massive god complex."

"You think he knows Magnus?" Alfred asked.

"Oh, very well," Arthur confirmed, "They use the other as a sort of trump card if necessary. Very close, those two. Will probably receive his entire fortune when the man dies. It's a wonder Magnus hasn't kicked the bucket, yet - What with all the attempts on his life."

"I don't know about you," Alfred smirked, "But if I was absolutely certain that fortune was mine, I'd probably murder Magnus, myself."

"That's not something you should go around bragging about, Alfred," Arthur warned.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't."

"What are we talking about over here?" a man approached them. He wore a white shirt with ruffles and black, slick pants that hugged his legs. A lavender cap was hooked around his shoulders and matched the cuffs on his shirt.

"Francis," Arthur growled, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Mon Cher," Francis winked, his voice laced with a pleasant french accent, "Alfred! How are you, my boy? What are you working on now?"

"Great to see you, too, Francis," Alfred saluted him, casually, with two fingers, "I'm actually working with automobiles, at the moment! You wouldn't believe the money to be found in those things, not to mention the convenience. I tell you, give it a decade and everyone will want one!"

"Sure thing," Francis chuckled, "Tell me, is your brother here? Poor lad is probably all but invisible in this party. I wonder if he even knows anyone."

"Mattie should be around," Alfred said, gesturing towards the crowd, "I swear, it took me quite some time to convince him to wear the suit I got him, but it looks almost as great as this one. I almost bought one for myself."

"Oh? What's it like?" Francis inquired.

"Kind of a plum colour?" Alfred offered, "It's got a bow tie, though. I think his glasses make him look a bit like some kind of professor, but he thinks I was just being irritable when I told him so."

"If you ladies don't mind," Arthur interjected, "Some of us would like to talk about something a little more interesting."

"Perhaps we could talk about your culinary skills," Francis teased, "I think that last batch of scones you made was almost a quarter as good as my baking."

"Oh, get bent, frog," Arthur hissed, turning to glare at the frenchman.

"Gladly," Francis cooed, "Where is your mistress? She'd be much happier with me, anyways."

"You know damn well I don't have one," Arthur stated, "But if I did, she sure as hell wouldn't look your way."

"I had no idea you were interested in the blind, Arthur," Francis replied, "Though, they must have to be to think you're a gentleman worth settling down with."

"I'm just gonna go and see if I can locate our host," Alfred took a step away from the bickering men.

"Alfred. Please. Stay," Francis said.

"I would, but don'tcha know I really came here with a purpose in mind, tonight," Alfred shrugged, "You two have fun." With that, he turned and escaped as fast as he could, lest they try and stop him, again. They were too caught up in their argument to bother following him, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Mister Jones!" A voice called, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to see a man waving at him and distancing himself from a man wearing an orange coloured outfit that Alfred knew was Yao Wang.

"Kiku," Alfred returned the wave, allowing the man to catch up with him. He was wearing a light grey suit with accents of gold to complement it. Both men had been friends for a time and business partners before that. Although Alfred had since moved in a different direction with his endeavours, they both turned to one another for advice or aid on occasion, "That was your cousin you were just with, right?"

"Yeah," Kiku glanced back over his shoulder, "Yao was telling me about how Mister Densen has a display of trophies over there. Some of them look rather interesting."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," Kiku nodded, "He sounded pretty jealous. I'm pretty sure he's been competing with our host for quite a fews years in the Cricket tournaments and always seems to come second."

"Sports are a rather intense subject," Alfred stated, "I follow football, myself, but I'd be pretty bitter after losing that many times, too."

"Yes, well," Kiku replied, "Perhaps if he focused a little more on practicing and a little less micromanaging me, then he'd actually be good at the damn sport."

"Haha!" Alfred laughed, slapping him on the back, "You never fail to make me crack up, Kiku."

"Mister Honda!" someone called, interrupting them. A man came up in a green military uniform, only offering Alfred a brief moment of recognition before turning to the man in question, "Are you ready for the transaction tonight?"

"I am," Kiku nodded.

"Woah, transaction?" Alfred interjected, "That sounds a little sketchy, Kiku."

"I don't think it's any of your concern," the man stated.

"I'm sorry," Alfred turned to him, smiling condescendingly, "I don't believe we've met."

"Oh. My apologies," Kiku stepped between the two of them, "Alfred, this is my acquaintance, General Ludwig Beilschmidt. Ludwig, this is an old business partner and long time friend, Alfred Jones. He's from America."

"Ludwig, huh?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Same," Ludwig returned, coldly, "Anyways, tonight is the ideal opportunity for what we have planned. I ask you to be on time for it."

"Are you Italian brothers here, tonight?" Kiku inquired.

"Over there," Ludwig pointed off to the left where two men stood. One wore brown while the other was in a silver outfit. They spoke easily with a mass of woman, making all of their dates rather irritated.

"Look like mafia members," Alfred muttered.

"Alfred. You can't say things like that," Kiku turned an unamused eye on him.

"Hey. I'm American. It gives me a right of passage to say whatever the hell I want," Alfred smirked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Perhaps, but you don't have to be a typical arse simply because you are from the colonies," Kiku stated.

"Oh ho. Who's the one being prejudice, now?" Alfred chuckled, smacking him on the back, "Just kidding. I've actually got somewhere to be, so you go ahead and talk to your suspicious friends. I'll catch up with you, later."

"Wait! You could come and meet them," Kiku offered, "Feliciano and Lovino Vargas are a bit unusual, but friendly enough. You might get along with them."

"Next time," Alfred step away, offering one last glance over his shoulder, "You can tell me all about them later." He left before either could object and spotted Magnus across the room, talking with a young couple, holding a drink in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. He made his way across the room, dodging bodies with ease and was almost there when someone appeared before him out of nowhere and he ran into them.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Miss," Alfred offers his hand to help her up. She wore a yellow dress that billowed around her figure with ease and a bright smile on her face.

"Oh! It's quite alright," she giggled, accepting his offer and regaining her footing, "My name is Elizabeta, by the way. Elizabeta Héderváry."

"Alfred Jones," he removed his hat and bowed a bit, "It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Same," she agreed, "Are you a friend of Mister Densen's, then?"

"Oh, certainly," Alfred nodded, "I'm an opportunist, you see. I have crossed paths with him time and again."

"Ah," she smiled, "That's very interesting."

"What about you?" he wondered.

"Well, my parents passed away a few years ago, leaving me their entire inheritance," she explained, "And he is one of many suitors. Not my favourite, but certainly not as persistent as some of them. In truth, I plan to stay unmarried, but when they don't know that they can be rather generous."

"Haha," Alfred nodded, "You and me, both. No partner to tie us down, yeah? I don't think I'd be able to raise a family very well, anyways."

"Oh, don't be silly," Elizabeta rolled her eyes, taking his hand, "You'd be fine. Let's not talk about possibilities, though. Come on. You look like you could use some gossip." He grabbed his hat as she dragged him off, pulling him farther from their host and farther from his objective.