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Post by Stal on Mar 29, 2008 1:12:34 GMT -5
Stal sipped some of his wine a grimmaced. The host had really skimped on the good stuff for this place. Stil, though, wine was wine and he wasn't going to complain. He gulped down what was left in his cup and grabbed another from one of the travelling waiters, thinking about just how much he hated social gatherings like this and needing to make appearances.
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Post by Nature on Mar 29, 2008 6:18:59 GMT -5
Nature walks in the ballroom(?) and looks around with an '0_o'-like expression on her face. While everyone else was in formal attire, she was the only one there wearing an Organization XIII cloak over a Terror Mountain jersey and embroidered denim jeans. It was embarrassing. She realizes that some others are giving her weird looks. The Zafara blushes a bit as she goes around, trying her best to hide her face from the onlookers. Soon, she finds an empty table with an empty seat and sits there. She then summons her sitar and plays a song on it. 'You've Got To Hide Your Love away' by the Beatles. Typical.
Here I stand head in hand Turn my face to the wall If he's gone I can't go on Feeling two-foot small
Everywhere people stare Each and every day I can see them laugh at me And I hear them say
Hey you've got to hide your love away Hey you've got to hide your love away
How can I even try I can never win Hearing them, seeing them In the state I'm in
How could he say to me Love will find a way Gather round all you clowns Let me hear you say
Hey you've got to hide your love away Hey you've got to hide your love away
As she sings to herself, she darts her eyes around. She is a spy for Don Huntress (whom she was related to by 'bloidal blood). She pinpoints several of Don Carrie's henchmen and henchwomen and sees Don Carrie herself, chatting cattily with . . . Don Huntress' most trusted secretary?! The Zafara glares at Squiesh and mentally curses her. She didn't trust that secretary of Don Huntress' -- she never really did. There is something fishy about this "loyal" secretary of the Don's -- what was it? Nature mentally ponders the question as she finishes her sitar song.
"Hey! The entertainment's here!"
Nature turns around to see a man in a tuxedo wearing shades. He is one of Don Carrie's henchmen, pretending to be one of the organizers of the party. He glares at her as the Zafara gives him a suspicious look.
"You there," he tells her. "You're tonight's performer, aren't ya?"
Nature nods. "I most certainly am," she says in her best impression of Larxene. (I'm guessing it kinda failed. >_>)
The man nods. 'Right," he mutters. "Go on ahead, perform. Hurry, before the crowd loses its patience."
Nature gives him a cold glare before getting up and walking towards the stage, her sitar clutched tightly in her hand. Once she goes on stage, the Zafara smiles and addresses the crowd.
"Hey!" she calls them in her best "cool performer" accent. 'You guys are lookin' pretty lively tonight, huh?" She winks coolly at the crowd and then strums her sitar. She sings a cool, somewhat jazzy song in a different language. All to impress the crowd, of course.
Kung puso ang siyang umibig mahirap mong mapigilan Parang isang nobela na di mo na mabitawan Mga tauhan dito may kanya-kanyang tungkulin Kapag hindi na makaya laging may paraang mahahanap
Kwento ng ating buhay ay parang isang nobela May kwento ng kasayahan, kung minsan ay kalungkutan Kapag may hadlang sa istorya at tagilid ang bida At parang di na makaya laging may paraang mahahanap
Hanggang mayroon kang pag-ibig Laging mayroong ginhawa Kapag mayroon kang kasama Walang hindi makakaya Kahit anong problema ating nadama Pag-ibig na ang siyang bahala
Hanggang mayroon kang pag-ibig Laging mayroong ginhawa Kapag mayroon kang kasama Walang hindi makakaya Kahit anong problema ating nadama Pag-ibig na ang siyang bahala
She pretends to be cool in front of the crowd, but in reality, she'd rather be sitting on a small chair, singing softly to herself while no one watches. Oh well, the Zafara thinks to herself as she sings. If it's the only way to help Don Hunty, I guess I'll have to do it.
While performing, she keeps an eye on Don Carrie and Squiesh, making sure they don't do anything funny to ruin the party. She just hoped that, during the process, she wouldn't ruin her own performance, either.
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Post by Celestial on Mar 29, 2008 9:09:20 GMT -5
Celestial turned her attention away from the casual conversation she was having with some of the more important guests and finally took the time to notice Rikku. Her eyes narrowed in more ways than one as she regarded one of the best agents of Don Carrie's. Every time Celestial thought she had Rikku, the girl managed to slip through her fingers. It was horribly annoying. She crossed her arms just to feel the familiar outline of her handgun in it's holster on her arm.
Casually, she picked up another champagne flute and strolled over to Rikku as if they were just good friends. However, the menacing tone of voice that Celestial used was nothing but friendly.
"Hello Rikku. Enjoying the party?"
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Post by Smithy on Mar 29, 2008 10:01:04 GMT -5
Smithy pulled up her "brand new" car outside the mansion, and looked up at the lights pouring out of the windows. Climbing out, she waved off the valet that came rushing up, and slowly walked up to the open door, her violet dress swishing. She carefully adjusted the violet flower perched on her bun, being careful not to touch the secret poison pouch. I never thought of taking trick flowers to a whole new level. But safety first, thinking of the two pistols hidden underneath the false flowers decorating the skirt at her left hip
Glasses gleaming, she saw a quick shape across the sky, then walked in. The atmosphere immediately struck her. There were both Dons, that Yurble Gooch, and quite a few members of each side. And I thought that those Desertian weddings could be a pain. Oh well, good training I suppose.
Smithy immediately spotted a few neutrals looking blank. She decided to chat them up. Two were standing together. Perfect
Carefully she takes a tall glass of lemonade off of a waiter, and glides over, completely taking over. "Jina, Yoyote, darlings, how are you? I see you two far too little, far too little, don't you agree? I hope everything's fine. Been wondering 'bout your insurance, ladies? Life is never safe these days, tut tut, best to be safe than sorry."
Carefully, Smithy checked the Don's movements, and smoothly hid her shock at seeing Squeish with Don Carrie. No trust in this business...no trust.
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Post by Rider on Mar 29, 2008 11:36:28 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]Rider sidled over to Stal, who seemed to be alone and not having much fun. That's what these ritzy parties were for. Just to be there. Not having fun, not doing much of anything. Just being there and being seen and keeping a presence. Don't let anyone forget that you exist and you have eyes and ears like anyone.
"Stal, what brings you to a pretentious event like this? How's the wife and little Mindy? The Tabloid Town shop still seems to be raking in the dough, based on your swanky attire tonight." [/glow]
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2008 11:43:48 GMT -5
Owleye tensed as she saw her partner walk up to Rikku. Whenever the three of them were in the same room together, things tended to get very ugly. Then she smiled in the approved feline fashion as she considered how useful salsa could be.
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Post by zarikrahia on Mar 29, 2008 14:38:56 GMT -5
Zari lurked, as was her occupation these days, behind a Pillar, sipping what looked suspiciously like something unsuspicious, and fiddling with the edge of her shirt. These parties were boring, her hair has diobediently turned curly, and what was the point in lipstick anyway? But nevermind. She supposed it was all for effect. You could never have too much of that, at least. Not like makeup and alchohol.
With a resigned sigh, she stepped out from behind the pillar, glass in one hand, the other brushing her knife, and made for the food. With food, you could never go wrong. Especially with an Ocelot-Fae's sense of smell. "Does any of this contain large amounts of carbohydrate? I can't really go too far with the stuff, otherwise I might end up accidentally making bite marks on the walls." she inquired softly, pulling a forever-straying strand of hair back behind her left (human, not cat) ear. If someone who wasn't one of her fellows answered, she could sell them insurance. And probably her old harmonica too.
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Post by Stephanie (swordlilly) on Mar 29, 2008 14:47:29 GMT -5
Yoyote smiles pleasantly at Smithy. "Ah, I'm sorry, I am not interested in life insurance," she says. "I have more important matters to attend to while I am still living, and as for what happens after death, I couldn't care less."
After a while, due to Yoyote's well-practised sheer-boringness, the conversation drifts on to other people, and Yoyote is free to make her way casually towards the door. The kadoatie in her arms is not mewing - it seems to be holding something strange in its mouth. As she nears the door, Yoyote puts on her dark purple sunglasses.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2008 15:13:47 GMT -5
Reve tapped her foot impatiently, chair titled to one side as she blankly observed the shifting crowd, a look of uttermost boredom on her face. Man, she hated these formal parties. For one thing, there was hardly anything to do except chat with random people, true motives hidden behind fake smiles and drink champagne. Ugh, champagne. She glared at the still full wine glass that rested on the table in front of her; she still didn't know how people could drink the stuff. She knew she should be talking with some neutral, trying to convince them to join the right side, but every time she managed to spot one, a fellow and enemy agent were already swarming them with questions like a pair of hungry vultures. Not wanting to overwhelm anyone, she stayed back and continued her dreadfully boring job of watching the crowd, waiting, and hoping she'd be able to spot somebody to talk to before somebody else stole them away. She couldn't exactly move quickly in the shoes. Gosh, the shoes. She hated the shoes. She glared at her feet, hoping they would catch fire or something. She didn't really know why she wore them in the first place, but sneakers didn't exactly fit in during formal parties. So she was stuck with the awful, speed-hindering shoes, sitting at the table and contemplating over her boredness, eagerly waiting for something, anything, to happen.
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Post by Diana on Mar 29, 2008 15:26:11 GMT -5
Somewhere in the shadows, Diana fidgeted slightly.
Despite her half-hearted attempts, she couldn't stop her eyes from maintaining their triangular glancing pattern - from the ceiling to her left and then to her right. Her instinctive lighting check and and escape routes. Parties. Crowds. Bright lights. This wasn't her world, not any longer.
How in the world did I let him talk me into this? she wondered. Why couldn't he just go himself? He's a little less... conspicious.
In her heart, she knew exactly why she'd been sent here, instead of him going directly.
May as well stop being paranoid. You're not going to complete any of your surveillance until you make an attempt to mingle, and you know that your father's never going to be freed if you don't complete all of these assignments.
Nostalgically, she adjusted her oversized ebony leather jacket for the umpteenth time, although she knew that it was already covering what she needed to hide. She sighed. Paranoia will be paranoia. With one last wistful glance at the ballroom doors, she stepped out of the shade and into the bright party lights, the world that she'd never be comfortable in again.
Will he ever let me go?
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Post by Clocky: Activity is a Thing on Mar 29, 2008 15:30:52 GMT -5
(( Meh, I'll just sit this one out... I guess. [=.=] ))
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Post by Vyt: Down, but Not Out on Mar 29, 2008 16:24:44 GMT -5
((Okay, let me retry my entrance.))
Vyt greatly enjoys the party by feeling himself on the buffet table. Everything he sees edible, he eats without hesitation. The half-feline does not mind about his manners as he happily indulges himself in satisfaction.
However, at one moment, Vyt shoots a glance at Carrie and his smile completely changes to a frown. "Okay, Vyt... You see her... Don't try to expose yourself yet..."
Before Carrie can notice, Vyt turns around and back to the table.
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Post by (_+*Lou*+_) on Mar 29, 2008 16:32:11 GMT -5
Lou sits in the corner, wearing a mottled green dress, her nose apparently buried in the large Civil War book she's studying.
Her eyes, however, are studying the guests closely.
Suddenly, she stands up.
There's some things of interest over near the buffet table.
Still holding the tome in front of her face with one hand, she slithers over towards the buffet and stands inconspiciously near it.
One hand holds a poison inked pen- but all she's doing so far is recording conversations in shorthand in the margins of the tome, praying no one will notice her.
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Post by Diana on Mar 29, 2008 17:02:18 GMT -5
The light spilled into Diana's electric blue eyes, causing her stop and wince. Automatically, one hand flew up to shield her eyes. She was used to the shadows and the night; the faint green beams filtering down through the thick treetops were the closest she normally got to bright light.
Great start to your facade of normality, she muttered to herself sarcastically.
She pulled her hand back down, cursing under her breath and wishing she had sunglasses on. She blinked the stars from her eyes. There was somebody at the banquet table, staring at her curiously. Diana locked gazes with the other person with narrowed eyes for an infinitesimal second, and then averted her gaze. They weren't who she was here for. She had other things to do, and she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Patience, muttered that chilling voice in her head. Diana shivered at the connection; she'd never get used to it. Haste will get this assignment nowhere. And in turn, your father will never see your precious face again. Get on with it.
How many more after this? she thought back bitterly. What do you want me to do next? Kill somebody? I'll only go so far
There was a cold chuckle. Dear Diana, you will do whatever I say, whenever I say. You have virtually no will of your own these days. And the connection was gone, leaving the girl with the usual feeling of lightheadedness.
She looked ahead grimly. I take that as a yes.
So, where was the target? He had said she'd be here. But her draconically enhanced eyes couldn't pick out her from the thick crowds.
Get a move on. You're standing in the middle of nowhere like an idiot.
Yet again fidgeting with her jacket, she did her best to relax her stance and stalked over to the banquet table.
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Post by (_+*Lou*+_) on Mar 29, 2008 17:09:17 GMT -5
A faint pain on her back alarms Lou before she recognises it.
Her wings are coming out again. Thankfully they're folded, so no one is hit by them.
Of course, that can only mean one thing.
Things are heating up, and something in her wings knew that the girl might need a quick escape.
Lou breathes deeply to calm herself, and, acting like nothing happened, continues her notes, which now focus primarily on the odd, tense behavior of the girl in the large jacket.
I wonder if she has wings, ponders Lou, before dismissing the notion. Anyhow, they can't be as irksome as mine.
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