This year's speeches lacked the fireworks of the previous election, but there had been an excitement to the day all the same, a greater sense of community interest than Charles had anticipated given past experience. He's still a bit high from the rush of adrenaline that always come with public speaking, from commanding a captive audience, if for only a few moments. There's a spring in his step as he makes the climb towards the mansion, for while his victory is far from assured (he had lost last time, after all), he remains optimistic about his chances.

Besides, it's not the end of the world should he lose again.

Not expecting to be greeted before he so much as steps inside, a surprised laugh escapes Charles when his eyes land on Erik waiting outside the door, a bottle hanging from his fingertips. Given that they've had something of a trying month -- a trying year, really, if he's honest, though the past few weeks have truly been something else -- he's perhaps the last person Charles would have assumed eager to celebrate. Slowing to a stop, he cants his head to the side, biting back a smile.

"Is this your idea of a party?"