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Post by Rikku on Mar 28, 2008 16:02:51 GMT -5
Rikku drifts around the party, chatting to people in a vaguely menacing way. A trenchcoat wouldn't have gone down too well in this crowd, and so she's deprived of her usual huge pockets and cuffs to conceal weapons. She had to settle for a small pistol inside her purse and a small knife concealed in a sheath under her belt. She soon finds that that her rather awkward way of walking to avoid goring herself in the stomach is inconvenient for the socializing going on, and settles for hanging on the fringes of conversations, keeping a wary eye on Don Hunty's boys. She has a feeling that this situation will turn very dangerous, very quickly.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2008 16:12:13 GMT -5
Rikku drifts around the party, chatting to people in a vaguely menacing way. A trenchcoat wouldn't have gone down too well in this crowd, and so she's deprived of her usual huge pockets and cuffs to conceal weapons. She had to settle for a small pistol inside her purse and a small knife concealed in a sheath under her belt. She soon finds that that her rather awkward way of walking to avoid goring herself in the stomach is inconvenient for the socializing going on, and settles for hanging on the fringes of conversations, keeping a wary eye on Don Hunty's boys. She has a feeling that this situation will turn very dangerous, very quickly. Owleye narrows her feline eyes as she spies the one person who could singlehandedly make a semi-tense situation into an explosive-filled scene of action, just by showing up. Her tail twitches in a predatory manner from the rafters, but when a friend looks up to see what happened to the salsa... She had vanished completely, becoming one with the shadows in such a way even her partner (who was skilled at picking her out against dark backgrounds) could not see her.
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Post by Avery on Mar 28, 2008 16:17:42 GMT -5
Carrie stands in the center of the room, chatting lightly with her daughter, Squiesh. She knows Hunty is but a few yards away, and somehow, this makes a smile tick at the corners of her mouth. Her attempt to send a spy had been successful, and now Hunty will know just who had managed to betray her. In a morbid way, this makes Carrie happy. However, in a totally different lite, she knows that this situation might turn dangerous-- and quickly. After all, an angry mob boss can mean just one thing: disaster.
(OOC: Guys, there's also gonna be more comic, so be prepared! =D)
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Post by Speck on Mar 28, 2008 16:19:49 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]((No, no, you've got to roleplay it. )) "Speck, my beautiful doll. How's the lemonade buisness going? Would you indulge an old pal with a drop of your finest?" Rider holds up an empty flute. "Also, I've been wondering if I could interest you in buying some health insurance. Not that you're not the picture of blossoming health, a gorgeous broad as always, but tomorrow is an unpredictable day, after all. It's not a lot of dough to ensure that you're always prepared." ((... If you picture a mobster accent, it's a lot less flirty. >.>))[/glow] Goosh rolls his eyes and nods. "Gorgeous indeed, as my associate has pointed out. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, no?" Goosh runs his finger over the rim of his glass. "Excuse me," he says abruptly, vanishing into the crowd and returning with a tray of shrimp puffs. "Shrimp is good for the brain, they say. Helps you think rationally. Try one," he says, holding the tray out to her. She smiles, nods, and snaps her fingers. A waiter looks up, and walks over with a chilled bottle of the bubbling lemonade. He pours the liquid into Rider's flask, then gives a quick bow before briskly walking back into the crowd. "Oh, you do flatter me," Speck laughs and fans herself with one hand, more in a theatrical gesture than for comfort. She addresses Rider first, "I did not know you were in the business of health insurance, Rider. Perhaps we may negotiate the cost sometime." "Thank you, my dear Goosh, but I must decline. Shrimp is rather... disagreeable with me," She takes another sip of lemonade, "And are you suggesting that I do not think rationally without the aid of outside stimulants?"
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Post by Rider on Mar 28, 2008 16:52:09 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]((No, no, you've got to roleplay it. )) "Speck, my beautiful doll. How's the lemonade buisness going? Would you indulge an old pal with a drop of your finest?" Rider holds up an empty flute. "Also, I've been wondering if I could interest you in buying some health insurance. Not that you're not the picture of blossoming health, a gorgeous broad as always, but tomorrow is an unpredictable day, after all. It's not a lot of dough to ensure that you're always prepared." ((... If you picture a mobster accent, it's a lot less flirty. >.>))[/glow] Goosh rolls his eyes and nods. "Gorgeous indeed, as my associate has pointed out. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, no?" Goosh runs his finger over the rim of his glass. "Excuse me," he says abruptly, vanishing into the crowd and returning with a tray of shrimp puffs. "Shrimp is good for the brain, they say. Helps you think rationally. Try one," he says, holding the tray out to her. She smiles, nods, and snaps her fingers. A waiter looks up, and walks over with a chilled bottle of the bubbling lemonade. He pours the liquid into Rider's flask, then gives a quick bow before briskly walking back into the crowd. "Oh, you do flatter me," Speck laughs and fans herself with one hand, more in a theatrical gesture than for comfort. She addresses Rider first, "I did not know you were in the business of health insurance, Rider. Perhaps we may negotiate the cost sometime." "Thank you, my dear Goosh, but I must decline. Shrimp is rather... disagreeable with me," She takes another sip of lemonade, "And are you suggesting that I do not think rationally without the aid of outside stimulants?" [glow=red,2,300]"Certainly not what my associate means. But it pays to be well-versed in the modern sciences. This is a new age, doll." Rider takes a shrimp for herself. "Fruit juices and head doctors are also supposed to be good for you." "As for buisness, well, I have been doing a variety of... jobs. But yes, insurance is very affordable." Rider hands her a card. "Give me a call sometime." Rider's eyes wandered over to Hunty and Goosh chatting, and followed their gaze to Squeish and Carrie. Don Carrie, at a ball like this. Rider was amazed that the rival mob leader could drag herself out and gussy herself up enough to get invited. Money had to have changed hands somewhere. The guest that everyone just puts up with. ... On the other hand, there were a remarkable amount of Carrie's boys here. More than just espionage. Rider swung her hangbag a bit, feeling the reassuring weight of a pistol inside. There was a dagger under her hat as well, which could get interesting if anything were to loose the hat. Or fall on it. Oh well, she needed a haircut anyway. [/glow]
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Post by Dice on Mar 28, 2008 17:02:18 GMT -5
Pyro sips a glass of lemonade, relishing the bittersweet taste. She stands off to the side, watching the guests, watching Hunty's boys--who they talk to, where they go, what weapons they may subconsciously reach for. Pyro will mingle, perhaps, in a little while. She enjoys exchanging words with others--exercising the skill she's honed, to say very much and reveal very little, while promising even less.
There's a pistol in her bag right next to a knife. She wonders absently which one of them she'll have cause to reach for first. Her eyes flit around the room, still watching.
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Post by Thundy on Mar 28, 2008 17:22:41 GMT -5
Thundy didn't speak to anyone so far, but kept a close eye on things. After all it is hard to keep a normal tone of conversation when you've had a shot of Espresso and there's the weight of cold iron pressing into your left lung. I better get that holster readjusted tomorrow, he thought. Thundy wasn't used to black tie dress, and was sure something would soon give him away, which is why he wasn't speaking to any of the fortune 500 that was snaking around.
Darting about he saw Carrie and suddenly the pressure on his lung popped up a notch. Several of her goons could be seen around the room. "Wonderful," Thundy grumbled and flagged down a waiter for another shot of Espresso.
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Post by Amneiger on Mar 28, 2008 18:04:33 GMT -5
Amneiger pulled into one of the spaces outside the mansion, waving off the valet who ran up. He glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, then lifted the slim stealth pistol with the silencer from the glove box and slipped it into the shoulder holster under his formal dinner clothes. The extra clips were hidden under some maps; Amneiger lifted those out as well and placed them into an inner jacket pocket.
Outside the car it was quiet; almost everybody was already in the mansion and Amneiger could hear the faint sound of talking from where he was standing. He walked around the car and checked both deadbolts on the trunk; secure. Earlier he had stocked it with shotguns and pistols, with ammunition for each. If he was lucky he might be able to sell a few samples of his merchandise tonight.
The front doors were closed, but as Amneiger approached a servant opened them from within. Amneiger gave him a nod as he passed through and gave the room a quick once-over, looking for exits, side rooms, and convenient architecture he might be able to use if there was a firefight or sudden confrontation. Windows, curtains, a few closed doors, tables, the stairs. Having satisfied himself that these were the ballroom's more accessible bits of terrain, he drifted towards the general vicinity of Don Carrie. While Don Hunty had informally replied that she had received his offer, he had gotten no such message from Don Carrie. He was going wait for her her conversation to finish before trying to speak to her himself; no need to aggravate potential customers. In the meantime he could stand next to the hors d'oeuvres table and see if he couldn't hear what she was talking about.
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Post by Zylaa on Mar 28, 2008 21:06:19 GMT -5
Zylaa had come to the fancy dress party because it was, supposedly, the "social event of the season." She had noted that the season was barely a week old, so this party did not have much competition. Nevertheless, she came. Now she wasn't so sure.
Perhaps it was the furtive conversations between Goosh and Hunty, perhaps the looks and subtle glances that were about as furtive as a cannonball, perhaps Thundy's obvious stress as he asked for more caffeine. Whatever it was, something told Zylaa that this wasn't exactly a fancy business party. Business of a sort, perhaps, but not the fancy kind.
Oh well. Never let free food go to waste. She waited and watched another guest pick up a few strawberries, and kept an eye on him for a good ten minutes as she ambled around the room exchanging greetings. The guest didn't drop dead, so she assumed that the strawberries were safe. She picked a few up and began to eat, watching the room with interest.
((To sum up: I'm clueless, and can be persuaded to join either side. Recruit me. ^_^))
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Post by nope on Mar 28, 2008 21:08:06 GMT -5
Ringo wanders around, hoping not to attract to much attention, feeding on information the guests babble about.
Yes... Thought Ringo, Carrie will be pleased
Ringo glared at Hunty who had her back turned to the Zombie Mobster Uncle (who was infact, female).
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Post by Goosh on Mar 28, 2008 21:29:57 GMT -5
As Rider continued to take care of Speck, Goosh eyed the room, looking for the neutrals. They generally had confused looks or blank smiles on their faces, and were trying to figure out what exactly was going. Zylaa seemed mildly curious, so he drifted through the crowd toward her, adjusting his tux.
"Zylaa!" he crooned. "Glad you could make it, dear. Having a good time?"
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Post by Rikku on Mar 28, 2008 21:50:55 GMT -5
Rikku scans the crowd slowly, holding a glass flute in one hand. Her gaze snags on Zylaa and Goosh, who were talking, and she places the glass on a nearby table with exaggerated care and walks over to them.
"Zylaa, Goosh, how wonderful to see you." She knows this is dangerous, but can't resist. "Say, Zylaa, how're those weasels of yours?" She widens her eyes innocently. "Must be hard getting shinies for all of them ... and keeping control of all of them. It would be horrible if something bad happened to them, or to you."
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Post by Stephanie (swordlilly) on Mar 28, 2008 21:53:42 GMT -5
I am one of the various "anonymous" guests. =)
*eats food delicately, watching, idly stroking sharp-toothed kadoatie on lap*
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Post by Goosh on Mar 28, 2008 21:57:16 GMT -5
"Horrible," Goosh forced through clenched teeth, glaring at Rikku. "Rikku, doll, I don't suppose you could get me a refill? Thanks." He immediately downed the contents of his glass and held it out to Rikku, turning back to Zylaa. Adjusting his bow tie, he smiled at her.
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Post by Rikku on Mar 28, 2008 22:00:36 GMT -5
Rikku raises an eyebrow. "I ain't no waiter, kid," she murmurs, amused. "And you're not going to get rid of me that easily." She stares him down for a few seconds, then laughs to show that it's a joke, isn't this great, we're all friends here.
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