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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    welcome to the party - anyone
    #11

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    “Ma’am, only those on the guest list are allowed in.”

    The bodyguard points at the packet of paper in his right hand, listing names Wishbone probably knows but doesn’t pay attention to at this point. She’ll be damned if Svedka isn’t getting into this shindig with her because she is not going without him. They’ve been planning this night ever since she’d gotten the invitation — asking each other what they were going to wear, wondering who would be there, deciding in unison that they will not be hanging out with the old, wealthy people the whole time — and Wishbone won’t let them get turned down that easily.

    The Glock 19 concealed against her thigh nearly screams to be show its smooth face and Wishbone obliges. One slender leg swings upward so her nude-heeled foot can catch on the wall of the house. The ivory of her dress slips away to reveal the pistol against the lithe muscle as she speaks in a slow, husky voice. “I’m going to ask you one more time, sir, and I urge you to choose your next words wisely.” The bodyguard knows who she is — hell, almost everyone in the party has used the Leviathans before — and it only takes half a minute before the pair of siblings are sliding into the main floor of the building.

    “For inviting five million people to this party, security sure is fuckin’ nit-picky.” A laugh follows her comment to her brother, even while one pretentious old woman glares in Wishbone’s direction. “I’ve got to swing a hello to some people, for reputation’s sake, and then we can find the good party.” She can only stand the smells of flower perfume and sixty-year-old cologne for so long, especially when she knows the true party — the one with the good alcohol and the good, young people — is upstairs.

    In truth, Wishbone finds herself greeting exactly three people and she certainly knows she won’t remember who tomorrow morning. Heads turn toward the lithe, hazel-eyed woman with the long, beach-wavy locks and dazzling ivory dress as she makes her way quickly back to Svedka, handing him a Long Island Iced Tea cocktail alongside her own. It’s already a strong drink, but they’re both well-known for not being lightweights, and Wishbone smiles before taking a few gulps around the lime on the rim.

    As the buzz of the alcohol settles first in her stomach and then into her vessels, Wishbone grabs her brother’s hand with a firm touch and begins to drag him away. “It’s just over here.” She’s been to enough of Casia Incorporated’s parties to know her way around the building and it doesn’t take her long before they have reached the upper level. The stars shine overhead, nearly highlighting the intricacy of her dress amid the shadow of the nighttime, and Wishbone thinks quickly of her father before the sight of vodka catches her eye.

    She’d already abandoned her empty cocktail near some crowded entryway, the first of many to be deserted throughout the night. Wishbone steps easily toward the table containing the vodka and immediately begins to laugh in a starshine and wave-crash tune. “Oh, my god!” she manages to get out between chuckles. The Leviathan leader grabs a bottle — cucumber lime, she notes with approval — and holds it up to her brother’s handsome face. “Oh, wow, you look exactly how it tastes.” The bottle has her brother’s name — Svedka — printed across the face of it. Wishbone’s own face is twisted into a look of electric delight and amusement, her nose wrinkling while her hazel eyes shine like the stars above.

    wishbone



    so for clarification, nerine in human-world is a private mercenary gang under the name of the leviathans and wishbone is their leader. any nerinian at the party is welcome to use this occupation, if they'd like <3

    wishbone: xxx
    her dress: xxx
    Reply
    #12
    The blonde girl is bright and bubbly, clearly excited to get to wherever it is we’re heading. Ivar watches her press her palm to the sensor, his level black brows rising slightly. They spare no expense, these Casia’s, and it seems the rooftop pool that Kylin mentions is even more exclusive than the party they’ve just left. He doesn’t let go of Kylin’s hand until they leave the elevator and he raises the bottle in his hand with a smile before Karat dances away to fetch a drink for herself and Karat.

    “I came prepared,” he replies with a grin, taking a sip from the bottle before glancing back down at Kylin. She seems shyer than he remembers, but he’d been several drinks ahead of her at their first meeting. She’s just as pretty as he remembers though, and he’s looking at her and not at the view when he replies: “Definitely a great view.”

    There’s not time to say much else, as Karat is sashaying back with two drinks in hand. They look bright and colorful, but Ivar takes another swig of the whiskey. Sugary drinks always give him the worst hangover, but he does not begrudge the ladies their colorful concoctions. Karat asks Kylin if she has a swimsuit, and it occurs to Ivar that she really does intend to turn this into a pool party. There are other people swimming, of course, but Ivar hadn’t come to this launch expecting to have any real fun. He certainly hadn’t brought a suit, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

    He’d used to being eyed the way that Karat does now, and Kylin – who does not dare look at Ivar – misses the way he returns the appreciative inspection with a wink of his own. Ivar isn’t sure why Karat would need to change into a suit – her dress suggests she might just skinny-dip instead – but as the two women disappear to where he assumes the changing room is, he takes the opportunity to explore the rest of the party.

    There is a woman reading in one of the pool chairs, but his attention is drawn away from her by a familiar laugh. Ivar’s brown eyes scan the crowd until he finds her. A quick glance back to the door Kylin and Karat disappeared into confirms they’re still changing, and he leaves the glass table they’d been standing beside to cross the patio.

    “They let just anyone into parties these days, don’t they?” he says, coming up to the right of the auburn haired woman and sliding his left hand across the small of her back. He considers kissing her shoulder, but he doesn’t recognize the man she’s comparing to the bottle of vodka. Ivar places his bottle on the nearest table and extends a hand to the stranger. “I’m Ivar,” he says, before turning back to the woman in the white dress.

    “And you, Wishbone. What’ve you been up to since we last met?” There is a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth, and one scarred brow is quirked higher than the other. Their last encounter had been in her office, he recalls, where more than just papers had been spread across the desk. Neither Stillwater Ltd. or the Leviathans had expected to make a deal, but they’d both left the meeting more than satisfied.

    His hand remains on the small of her back, where his thumb toys with the delicate appliqué of her dress. Across the pool, he can still see the door to the bathroom as well as the golden elevator, from which a woman in a red dress, a man in a blue suit, and a red-headed mane with a camera are just emerging.
    Reply
    #13
    She feels lost among the labyrinth of faces. Although she knows that they aren't, she feels as if every eye was upon her - Sebastian's name a whisper upon their lips. Downing her wine in one giant gulp she absently reached for another, flinching away when her hand gently nudges an elbow. Apologetically she turns to offer a smile in the stranger's direction only to be greeted by his identical expression. Drink in hand it is immediately clear that he is the friendly type and, as he speaks, her saphire blue eyes search his face for any memory of a previous acquaintance. His name escapes her and, rather than risk seeming rude, she decides to play along for a moment.

    "I wouldn't know," she admitted with a nervous laugh. "I'm not usually one for big parties like these..."

    Her voice trails off as an energetic red head boldly meets her eye as he strode confidently toward her. Playfully he elbows the first man in the ribs, his tone joking and suggestive. Nymf's nerves spike and she glances around them in search of another drink. It didnt matter the type of the strength, she just needed something to still her nerves.

    Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she cast her eyes downward, unsure how to respond to the red head's insinuated invitation. All around her elderly board members and painfully unfamiliar faces swarmed, all those who had know Seb well. The grief hidden behind their gazes was more than she cared endure.

    Finally allotted a moment to snatch a drink, her grip tightened around the spindly neck of a champagne glass. Sipping it in a more 'ladylike' fashion, she decided to follow the young, lanky man up a flight of stars. Up on the second floor she was greeted by the sight of a younger crowd gathered beside a lit pool. The water looked devine and Nymf regretted having not known of a more casual option.

    Standing about she sipped her drink, suddenly even more uncomfortable than she had been before. Parting ways with the googly eyed ginger she sashayed over to an empty chair and sat herself within. From her spot a familiar figure caught her attention...Wishbone?

    "Oh god," she muttered under her breath. Her old boss.

    After Seb's death she had requested a particularly long leave of absence as a secretary for the Leviathans. After it had ended she never returned to work, her depression making it nearly impossible to leave her bed...and there had been no possible way to explain her miscarriage. Not after asking so much of her already. Hiding herself behind her wine glass she hoped to escape Wishbone's notice, glad when a handy man quickly moves to snatch her attention.

    Safe, Nymf continued to work on her drink, already disappointed to see it disappearing too quickly. 

    OOC: Phone post. Sorry
    Reply
    #14
    the secret of our world is written in the stars
    Standing beside Wishbone is no easy feat - she commands the crowd merely with a look. Tonight is no different, especially as she demands entrance for him as he stands at her shoulder, a grin plastered on his bearded face. He says nothing because he knows he doesn’t have to; Wishbone said she would get him in and the tall man merely leans back on his heels and folds his arms across his broad chest, a quirked eyebrow accompanying the smoldering smirk as he stares down the large security guard at the doors. Svedka is not surprised at the threat given to the men at the doorway, almost ruining the whole plan completely by bursting out into laughter when the guard’s face drained of all color. Hilarious.

    For a moment Svedka’s blue eyes are taken aback by the sheer elegance of the giant manor, now understanding why Wishbone had chosen his outfit for him. There had been a jacket to accompany the dark black of his dress pants and the linen white shirt, but there is no sign of it across his back because he had deliberately left it in the car they arrived in, careless for frivolousness and the way it made him itch. He is most likely extremely underdressed (the wayward eyes are obvious, but he only assumes it is because of the aura of prowess that accompanies his half-sister, as well as the rumors of the handsome, golden-haired brother that is always by her side), but already he is looking for a drink while Wishbone turns away from him. He is extremely thankful that no one will expect him to mingle and make small talk, especially as he swipes a fluted glass of champagne from a butler.

    With a swift tip of the glass to his lips, the sparkling liquid is gone within the two or three steps he has taken, thoughtlessly placing the empty glass into the ivory-gloved hand of an older woman. He’s headed towards the bar before he can hear her gasps of protest, A woman in red immediately grasps his attention, brows rising amusedly at the sight of her, stopping his direction towards the bar. But she has not seen him and instead is making her way upstairs, with a few other people that Svedka did not recognize. Another platter has floated by his face and he grabs whatever drink is there - another glass of dry champagne - and watches with curious blue eyes as Nymf ascends to the rooftop. As she disappears he finishes his small fluted glass with a single swallow, turning to see that Wishbone’s lithe and tall frame was moving towards him purposefully, with two drinks in hand.

    He eagerly trades his empty glass for the cocktail, both him and Wishbone taking swift gulps nearly in unison. He lowers the glass from his face and a wild grin meets Wishbone - already buzzing and ready to leave the thickly tensioned room and go to wherever part of the manor that his sister told him would be the highlight of his night.

    By the time they’ve found the hallway, Svedka’s drink is empty with melting ice. They arrive on the rooftop quickly, and it does not take long for his sister to find more of what they were already chasing. His nose wrinkles as she swipes the bottle from the table with a giggle, showing it to him like it is a trophy to behold.  “Hilarious.” He admits with sarcasm, making a face at her. Svedka laughs, snatching his namesake from her and loosening the top. He takes a quick sip of it - cucumber lime? What the hell? - with only a small wince on his face, swallowing with raised eyebrows. “Oh I hope I really don’t.” He sticks out his tongue, offering the open neck of the bottle to her. He glances around quickly, the market lights illuminating the pool area. There is a swim up bar, as well as a covered bar with cushioned lounge chairs, and a myriad of people standing about. He’s looking for the flash of red he had seen downstairs, his blue eyes flickering through the small crowd that seems to be growing.

    She is enchanting in the moonlight, though he is not surprised by that - he is more surprised that he’s somehow found her again. They do not run in the same circles, though he knows that Nymf worked with Wishbone. His grin is mischievous as he flashes a glance to Wishbone. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” Because, of course, the gathering up here - while younger and more exciting - still felt so drab.

    Not moments after the declaration had left his lips, a large man saunters up to them. Of course, he is clearly more interested in Wishbone (Svedka doesn’t mind as he grabs the open bottle from her and pours another shot of it into his mouth, grinning continuously) and seems to know her, though Svedka cannot help with quirk of his brow as the man’s attentions shifts to him. “Svedka,” he offers, grasping Ivar’s hand with a firm and quick shake. Svedka’s shimmering eyes are mischievously glowing, “do excuse me.” There is a soft wink given to Wishbone (and perhaps directed at Ivar as well) before he places the bottle of vodka onto the table where they had found it, and brushes past them both - his eyes are set keenly on Nymf.

    A butler passes him and he grabs whatever is there - wine, maybe? There are already two other men that accompany  her from downstairs (of course, why wouldn’t there be?) but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her again, or the soft surprise that would be on her face when she saw him. The smile on his face never fades even as she goes to sit, content with hiding herself like she had the first time they had been together. It had been electrifying, and he did not mind being the one to coax her out of the shell she feels so comfortable in. It is endearing and rather sweet, but there is another side of her that Svedka had loved getting to know.

    “Nymf,” comes the smooth silk of his voice paired with a charming smile, leaning towards her slightly to extend a open hand toward her for her to clasp. “I’ve been looking for you.”
    (be my escape)
    Svedka


    svedka is obviously the guy in his html!
    he's wearing: link
    Reply
    #15
    The blonde woman laughs, sounding almost as nervous as I feel. That realization is rather comforting, and I take an emboldening sip of the bright orange drink that Nick has put in my hand. It tastes like a combination of Christmas Trees and Oranges, and I turn to look at him in disgust. ‘Gin and Juice’ he mouths, and I wonder why anyone would ever like this enough to reference it in a song.

    I know better than to waste free booze though, so I swallow the rest of it quickly after saying: “Me neither. At least not as an attendee. I’m Merrik, by the way.” I’m about to extend a hand to her when someone elbows me in the side. I don’t recognize the redhead that approaches us, but he seems friendly enough and I smile back. The better part of the party?

    “Lead the way,” I reply, making note of his mention of pictures and the camera around his neck. It is second nature to look for Mr. Casia as we leave the room, but my boss in engaged in conversation with a few of the vice presidents, and he won’t notice me slip away. I follow both of them upstairs, and hold the door for the red dress woman. I’m distracted by the sight of the pool, and she manages to slip away, leaving me with the red-headed stranger.

    “So are you the official party photographer?” I ask him curiously, gesturing toward the machine around his neck. I hope he is; I always have more in common with those working these parties than with the guests. “And if you are, does that mean you know everyone?” I look around the open pool area, and find a dark-haired girl in a peach dress reading a book, who seems to be oblivious to the party going on around her. “What do you think her deal is?” I ask him, my tone curious. “Does she look like she’d yell at me if I offered her a drink? I think I’ve been yelled at enough for one party and don’t want to risk it again.” Despite what I’ve said, I’m still smiling. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose again; being yelled at by Mr. Casia is a regular part of my day by now, but I’d rather not be yelled at by a stranger.
    Reply
    #16
    Truth be told, she's always been too intense to care for the kids on a face to face level the way Solace does. What with all the mercenary gangs, Hyaline Hostel's have been affectionately coined Hospitals. As the streets become littered with blood - black red and blue alike - the youth of Vegas become more and more wary of true hospitals. Embedded the bowels of their foundation, hospitals are known to work with the police more than they are with medicine; their doctors practice law, their lawyers practice black mail. So instead of going to emerge, those needing shelter and time to recuperate found themselves at the doors of Hyaline Hostels/Hospitals. Triple H; she didn't choose the name, but the name seems to have chosen them.

    Put that away, her wife hisses as they climb the steps of the mansion. Solace has always been the more publicly decent of the two, considering the constant pressure she faced as the public head of Triple H, as well as having accidentally killed her brother a decade or two ago. That being said, it takes another growl and a tightening of her hand around Kagerus' wrist for the behind-the-scenes CEO to stuff her flask back into her clutch. And just in time, too, as the body guard motions them forward next.

    "Orion-Rhae," Comes her lyrical voice, smooth despite the way her throat burns from the alcohol she'd thrown back not a minute ago. A moment passes as the man opposite them swipes through his electronic list, a moment just long enough for Kag to squeeze in a subtle wink at the woman she leads on her arm. Not that Solace needs leading, god no - in fact, Kag's quite certain that she's met her match in that regard. You know, the sexual one.

    It's always fun having two doms in one bed; especially when they're both powerful, bad ass women with figures that make men's eyes cross. But of course, the only eyes they're interested in are the ones that they have for each other.

    Please proceed. Ms Kagerus, Ms Solace.

    Sweeping into the mansion with the train of her magnificent dress trailing behind, Kagerus' eyes widen at all the people and - god, what is that? Is that the Backstreet Boys? She pulls a horrified expression in Sol's direction, bursting into giggles not long after.

    Kag, how much of that did you drink before we got here? An innocent expression now, complete with pouting lip and blinking eyes.
    God, you're incorrigible.
    "I just want - hic - to have some fun!"

    Disgusted - most likely because Kagerus ALREADY HAS THE HICCUPS - Solace excuses herself, wading into the sea of expensive-looking people. A halo almost seems to glow around those beautiful golden locks as she treads the person-ocean - for a moment, Kag feels a warm glow of possessive gratitude, but in the next, she's admiring the curvature of her wife's tail until, at long last, it can no longer be seen.

    Bored now that she's without eye candy, Kag absent-mindedly retrieves her flask, unscrewing it and taking a swig. Or two. Or three. Or - GOD woman, slow down! But alas, the gorgeous brunette is deaf to the pleading cries of her narrator, downing the rest of the alcohol right there in the entrance of the mansion.

    Like I said, she's not good at the face-to-face things like Solace. She prefers beating up, interrogating, imprisoning and torture those who threaten Triple H - it's in her job description after all. Not that she doesn't occasionally have a heart to heart with some of the kids they house too, but these old snobs really aren't her type. The only old snob she'll count among her friend list is Brennen, and he's always busy at Ice Incorporated - or is it called something else now since the revamp? Well fuck it, no one can keep track anyway when you're this high on the Important People List.

    Speaking of important people...

    "Excyuse me!" She shouts, barely aware that she's slurring already. The woman she grabs is blonde and pale, wearing a cute lace-red dress. @[Nymf] was a stranger to her, but she was on the arm of some red-head youth who looked like he'd know where the fun is, and how to get her there. "Where do we go to get away from the - hic - snobs?"

    The answer comes in one fashion or another, and Kag ends up trailing behind the pair as they make their way to the rooftop. It's somehow communicated that a pool will be found up here, and the CEO dies a thousand deaths. She hadn't brought a bathing suit!

    Immediately, the lithe woman spots people of more interest and breaks off from the two who'd guided her. The massively broad shoulder of one particular man are what manage to capture her drunken attention. They catch it so much so that she doesn't even recognize Svedka, who's passing by her with an equally intent look in his eye, heading towards the woman that Kag had found quite boring. But ah, there will be plenty of time for them to find each other later.

    Deftly (or perhaps luckily considering that she makes her way to him from the direction behind), she reaches down a hidden pocket of her dress and pulls out a limited-edition diamond-encrusted dagger, about the length of her hand. As she's approaching, she barely notices the new leader of the mercenary gang that has signed on to help protect Triple H from crimelords - if this were Solace in her place, that'd've been the first thing she noticed. But wait - if this were Solace, she wouldn't have a knife drawn ---

    Well, actually, she probably would.

    Leaping forward, Kag threw the man in a choke hold, clinging to his back with just that one arm as the other placed the blade at his throat. Silence meets them momentarily. "Hello, Ivar Slutwater," Comes her voice, outrageously low due to her high level of intoxication. "Still lusting after married women, are you?" With this statement, she slides off of the man and re-sheathes the dagger in her dress, a grin plastered (hah) across her appealing lips. Ah, the joys of alcohol and being Solace-free: they weren't bound to last long, but they were bound to be... Outrageous.

    Turning, she narrows her eyes at Wishbone and stumbles, catching herself on Ivar's chest. "Nice dress," She offers suggestively, still failing to piece together how STUPIDLY essential the Leviathans are to the maintenance of Triple H. "If tits could kill..."


    Face claim: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e1/6f/93/e16f9...-poses.jpg
    Dress: http://image26.novashe.com/o_img/2017/07...-dress.jpg

    synopsis: kag follows Leilan and Nymf up the stares, spots Ivar and threatens him with a knife. Then hits on Wishbone. Wish, Ivar, and Kag are together.
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver
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    #17
    This isn’t the first time he’s had a knife at his throat, but it is the first time it’s happened at a party. Ivar doesn’t resist (partially because he smells the booze on his attacker’s throat and partially because he can feel her rather impressive chest against his back) and as soon as she speaks his stony expression changes to a wide grin. “I’ll lust after you till the day I die, Ms. Kagerus.”

    His left hand, which had fallen from Wishbone’s back at the surprise attack, instead curves around Kagerus’ satin-covered hip. Ivar could just be wanting to touch her (and he probably does) but he’s also moving her slightly farther away from the edge of the pool. It’s been a while since his last encounter with Kagerus, and while he’d heard rumors of her tendency toward wild partying, he’d not been graced with the chance to witness it until now.

    Her chokehold had pulled his hair from the loose bun it had been held in, and he pushes it out of his face with both hands, but a glance at the ground reveals the hair band to be out of sight. Speaking of things that aren’t in sight, he sees neither Kagerus’ wife not Kylin and Karat. The latter are probably still changing.

    Another look at the table they stand near reveals it to be empty of everything but Wishbone’s bottle of vodka and his own of whiskey. He considers offering to get Kagerus something less strong, but he’s also rather enjoying himself. She’d accepted Stillwater Ltd’s monetary donation to Hyaline, but had declined Ivar’s other offer. Maybe if he plays his cards right, she and her wife will at least let him watch.

    ooc: sorry not sorry i didn't wait my turn.
    synoposis: ivar hits on kag basically
    Reply
    #18
    Glad that the two people from the bar downstairs have agreed to follow (in their wake, some more people did, including an already drunk woman it seems - but heaven forbid, she went the other way). The girl in the red dress seems to want to avoid people - always great for a party - but the guy she'd just been meeting with (he'd vaguely picked up an M name) seems to want to get acquainted. Or at least, he wants intel. But he guesses he can't blame the man. He seems a bit out of place.

    So, he tears his eyes from the door behind which the lavender sheen dress and lavender hair had disappeared, and turns to the guy asking questions. "I hope not. These," he waves his hand at the gathering near the pool, "would make terrible glamour pictures." He grins. He's kidding, of course. "I'm Leilan, by the way. Photographer of anything from parties to magazine covers to funerals. I made the red carpet pictures of those grey heads downstairs hours ago. They set me loose afterwards, so the big camera's getting his rest in favour of the waterproof one." he shrugs, and begins to point, moving his camera around with a few clicks to collect whoever had attended on film. "That there's the new Leviathan leader and her brother, and Ivar Stillwater, I think he won a prize or something so I suppose he's here to be paraded. There's a lot of Casia's around here, of course... oh. And that would be Miss Fist herself. Kagerus, from triple H. They're uh, protector I think is what they call it." He pauses, follows through his camera lens to where Merrik had pointed. "And that, would be someone I'd like to get to know." Click. Ah, beautiful - a stillness surrounded by crazy wildness, which is pointedly ignored. That contrast intrigues him probably even more than the deep dark pools of brown in her eyes. He lets the camera down for a moment to look at her, but is also distracted by Kag attacking Ivar, slurry as she is.


    synopsis: gives merrick brief overview, takes some pictures, muses at Breckin picture, distracted again.
    aka free to get hit on, Karat/Kylin Tongue
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #19
    While the cat's away, the mouse will play... Dad had left on another business meeting, leaving the teenager to entertain himself how he pleased. Tonight, that meant taking the discarded invitation to the secure location indicated, riding to the tip top of the building, and following the not-so-subtle ones and twos making their way to the roof. 

    Once there, he parked himself at the railing of the roof, taking in the view through the tail of smoke rising from his cigarette. He took another drag as the bodies moved to and fro, mingling and separating like motes of dust on a breeze. Pretty people, pretty clothes. He was willing to bet that there was more money represented in this room than was possessed by the entire state. Maybe several states. He was no exception, his father being just as tightly intertwined as any of them. A cloud of smoke poured from his mouth in irritation. This business trip was going to bring him back in mom's part of the world. Fuckin joy. He could only imagine how that would go. 

    He was on his way to a truly foul mood when a shine caught his eye across the pool. A familiar face, at last. Grinning devilishly, he wound his way between souls none to carefully until he stood right behind the familiar blonde head. "Hey Twinkle Toes, fancy seeing you here." He said by way of announcement. His half sister had been chatting with a few other pretty people, looking a bit uncertain. Brother to the rescue, he supposed, flicking his cigarette butt at towards the pool. It was getting warm, but his jacket remained in place. It was the principle of the thing. With mild surprise, he realized that he was currently wearing more than 90% of the party. One of those, huh? 

    Kwartz: https://pin.it/qkq5gldmjvf36w
    Outfit: https://pin.it/2yorv4lxlq3llt
    Reply
    #20
    Up the staircase, round the bend, red corridor, red corridor, …

    “F*ck,” Bane hissed underneath his breath, tugging at the tight point of his collar before rocking back onto his heels. The up-dressed party crasher was tall and dirty blonde, built for playing sports or a life outdoors and yet, here he was running circles around an upper-level hallway frantically searching for his free ticket into this town’s biggest event. “Everything’s f*cking white here; the shit did she mean ‘red corridor’?” He grumbled, twisting his tattooed fingers through the tight, gelled mohawk on top of his head.

    “Lost?” A familiar voice purred from behind him, causing him to jump even though the strangers manicured hands were already smoothing his jacket shoulders. With a twist, Bane’s sharp gaze met the striking gray eyes of the very woman he was supposed to be meeting with, as if she’d been lying in wait for some time now. “There’s no red corridor, is there?” Wolfbane predicted, scoffing as Rey’s satin-colored lips drew up into a wicked smile. She was something, alright, perfectly fitted into a hot little number while her inky black hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders. “Had to make sure you were the real deal, babe.” She winked, linking her arm with his.

    “You focused? Eye on the prize?” The vixen tested, walking him a brief ways before stopping at a darkened exit door, “Baby,” He said, half-mocking as a cocky smirk exposed brilliantly white, slightly sharp, canine teeth, “They won’t even know what hit them.”

    Together, we brush through the broken alarm and out into the throng of very influential, very rich, and very, very frosted elites.

    Bane had never felt more in his element. Together with this chick his old robbing buddy set him up with, this would be his biggest job to date and he was willing to make a grand exit. Come in under the radar, hit ‘em hard, get out quick. With a nod to one another Bane releases Rey into the unsuspecting group of men (she knows her stuff, they’ll be dry soon enough) and heads to a shadowy corner where someone is hiding all to herself. Along the way his hand snags a drink and when he reaches @[Breckin], his tongue has all the fortitude it needs from top-shelf scotch.

    “You know I specifically reserved this hiding spot before the party,” He muses, confidence giving his tone a heavy note as he appreciates the curves of her dress, “But I’m inclined to share.” He smiles, another dazzling grin that stretches the tips of a wing tattooed on his neck. “The name’s Wolfbane, though I prefer Bane.” The sharp-dressed man begins, extending one hand.

    Bannneeeeee > xoxo
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
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