Realistic or Modern Autumnvale

[fieldofclover]

AUTUMNVALE, SKIP 1: THE NEW YEAR'S BALL

It's New Year's Day in Autumnvale! On behalf of Ignis and the Young family, the annual New Year's Ball is open to the public. Order as many drinks as you like, Ignis is footing the bill.

(This skip is to establish relationships and characters, so all interactions must take place on or around The Regal. Next skip will be a bit more relaxed on this front.)

coded by archangel_

 

[fieldofclover]

• August
• Bethany

• 
  
  august.

  
  

  New Year's Day. A chance to start anew, at least if only for the upcoming year. August Young looked forward to what it would have in store for him - at twenty-five, he was primed to take over for his father as CEO of Ignis, the tech company that he had founded years ago that still found new ways to innovate and change with the time. But would Atticus budge? Maybe he would this year. August had no idea how he was going to make a name for himself otherwise - of course, the Young name came with the notoriety and respect that he craved, but he had no other skills of note to help boost him to his own level of success.
  
  Tonight he found himself in the ballroom of The Regal, dressed to the nines and on his second flute of champagne. It had been a yearly Ignis tradition to host a New Year's ball, going back probably even before he was born. And, in the name of good charity, his father made it free to the public every year with an open bar to match. Philanthropy wasn't his strongest suit, but at least the less fortunate got to dine like kings and queens on someone else's dime. August wasn't a big fan of events like these, but his family had an image to protect, and so here he was, attempting to be the golden child that everyone assumed he was. They would be wrong, of course - August had been a wild child in his younger days, but those mistakes had all been covered up, thank God. If anyone ever found out about some of the stuff he had done... He didn't want to think about that.
  
  He forced a smile as he was approached by a middle-aged man, presumably of the public variety. August preferred to associate with those on the same status level as himself, which was yet another reason why he dreaded this event every year. Making small talk with people who just wanted him for his money was utter torture. But it was over rather quick this time, as the man of the hour himself, his father, stood at the railing overlooking the ballroom and began to make a toast. August tuned his old man's speech out almost immediately after he had begun to speak - call it a deficiency or something, but he would much rather lay on a bed of nails than have to listen to the utter garbage that Atticus was spewing right about now. Both father and son knew that what was being spoken was nothing but buzz words and pro-Ignis propaganda. And this crowd was drinking it all up as if it were cool water on a hot day. It didn't surprise him one bit, either. These simpletons would believe anything coming from a multi-millionaire's mouth.
  
  August glanced around the room and saw an opportunity. Everyone was distracted. It would be way too easy to slip out of the room to get some fresh air. And as his father droned on and on about how lovely it was to see the community come together for a festive celebration, August carefully worked his way out of the ballroom and outside to the alley situated beside The Regal. He leaned against the brick wall, letting out a sigh of relief. Finally he had some peace and quiet. So he reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a pack of Business Royals Blue and a lighter. Smoking was one of many bad habits that August just couldn't break no matter how hard he tried. But it helped calm his nerves, especially in a moment like this. But he couldn't get a flame to produce from the Zippo lighter, and he tossed it aside in a fit of frustration. Guess he wouldn't be needing a smoke after all. The cigarette hanging from his lips went back into its box, its agonizing death saved by a forgiving fate. August shoved the box back into the pocket where it belonged, resting his head against the wall behind him. Luck just wasn't on his side today.
  

  the regal • bored out of his mind • get me out of here • open to interaction • n/a
  
  
• 
  
  bethany.

  
  

  Bethany Graham was hungover. Again. But at least this time she had an excuse - it had been New Year's Eve the night prior, and she had definitely found a way to ring in the new year. It was now New Year's Day, and she found herself wandering into The Regal. Some bigwigs had put together a grand party - her boss and his family, and she was going to crash it uninvited. (Unfortunately for her, she didn't know that it was open to all - blame it on the alcohol, I guess.) Her eyeliner was smudged from last night, her dress was wrinkled, and her hair was thrown up into the messiest bun known to man. In other words, she was a complete trainwreck.
  
  But what do you expect when you're talking about Beth? Anyone who thought she'd be showing up completely sober and dressed to the nines was dead wrong. Nothing ever seemed to be coming up Bethie anyway, so why care about appearances? Nobody wanted to spend more than a night with her, she was incredibly close to losing her job, and she was starting to think that she was cursed. Her siblings seemed to all have taken the easy route to success - why couldn't she? Everything seemed to come effortlessly to all three of them. Was she just destined to be like this forever? God, she needed a drink - and a strong one, at that.
  
  She made a beeline for the bar, ordering a Long Island Iced Tea from the apathetic bartender tending to the patrons of the ball. It seemed like an eternity before her drink was handed to her, and she quickly wrapped her lips around the straw, getting her much-needed escape from reality in one long sip. Now she needed a physical distraction, preferably a hot one at that. Bethany would even take an ugly person to bed if she couldn't find a hot one - she was human garbage without any redeeming qualities. Oh well. We can't all be winners. Her hazel eyes scanned the room for a target, but she found none, which disheartened her some.
  
  Beth hopped up on a barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Her drink never left her tight grip, and her eyes were as bitter as one could possibly get them to be. Nobody cared about someone like her. She was an embarrassment to her family, a liability at work, unlucky in love...the list could go on and on. So did it surprise anyone to know that she was disgruntled with the way her life was going? There was a reason she relied on partying so much, and it would upset anyone else in her shoes just as much. And as she sat there, sipping on a very strong drink, the bitterness continued to seep into her bones. So what if it made her unapproachable? Somebody was bound to cross her path sooner or later.
  

  the regal • seething • sober up • open to interaction • n/a
  
  

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

<<This is my first time doing a RP on here, so if this formatting is incorrect please notify me!>>



Martin Dukakis gawked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Despite his well-fitted suit and polished Oxfords, the aging therapist could not help but notice how uncomely he was compared to everyone else at the ball. He took off his watch and turned on the faucet. Splashing water on his face, Martin sighed. What was wrong with his… everything? He could not place what made him so unattractive until he saw water dripping down his fish-lips.

Martin blinked once or twice, then puckered his kisser. His lips would be pretty on a woman, but he was a forty one year old man. Maybe his new year's resolution could be to fix his face. With a defeated chuckle, he turned on his heels and left the room. His watch was left ticking on the soap-dispenser.

Everyone was gorgeous at the ball, but more importantly (and much to Martin's hidden chagrin) they all looked happy. Martin knew that people can hide their emotions from others, but that did not make him feel any better about himself. He had been at this ball for about an hour, and his ability to force a smile was fading fast. While he knew that drinking was a self-destructive pastime, Martin rushed to the bar.

He knew that if he did not have something to numb his mind, the next person who cried “Marty” would receive a smack.

 

[red.blue.hues]

(I am on mobile so doing intense coding will arrive for Cam later on)


Cam wasn't one for large gatherings. Only a couple exits, multiple bodies in one large room, and enough noise to drown out even your deepest thoughts. He sighed as he adjusted his hair in the mirror of his sedan. The car was black both inside and out, with tinted windows to match. Private. Secure. Quiet.

He had tried his damndest to get out of this. After arriving in Autumnvale in May of last year, he still was barely integrated into the town. He knew people's names, sure. Their faces, absolutely. But them, as individuals? He had barely made an attempt. But lo, everyone who wasn't on duty for the holiday was going, which meant so was he. After pinching the bridge of his nose he opened the car door, and stood.

Cameron was rarely late to anything, but the party had already been going on for roughly an hour by the time he convinced himself to get up. That said, he quickly was shrouded in the throng of people dressed to the nines; himself included in the required black suit, polished dress shoes and a deep purple silk bow tie to pull it all in. As he entered the hall, the tall firefighter didn't hesitate to grab a flute of champagne from a silver tray as it floated by amd quickly pressed it to his lips as he made his way to join the other service men and women while Mr. Young himself made a toast to the room from the balcony.

But just to ensure he had a safety blanket of some kind, Cam stood on the farthest line closest to the ballroom patio doors.

 

[Hazel_]

Hazel leaned against the wall, her back pressed firmly against the brick, a veil of smoke weaving around her silhouette. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face adorned with a smattering of freckles across her porcelain skin. Her eyes, an intense shade of blue, held an enigmatic depth, observing the world with a quiet intensity. At twenty-four, she exuded an air of quiet confidence, clad in a simple yet elegant light blue dress that accentuated her natural beauty. Hazel wasn't one to fuss over appearances; her attire reflected her disdain for unnecessary extravagance.

She took a drag from her cigarette, the tendrils of smoke dancing lazily around her as she surveyed the alleyway, finding solace in this isolated corner away from the glitz and glamour of the ballroom. That's when she noticed August, the heir apparent to Ignis, struggling with his lighter, a pack of cigarettes in hand. Her expression remained impassive, but a hint of amusement played in her piercing gaze.

"I didnt think Mister Perfect smoked?" Her voice was cool, a tinge of sarcasm lacing her words as she raised an eyebrow, addressing August with an unexpected candor. And with that, the moment hung suspended in the alleyway, the clash of two worlds meeting in this unassuming space.

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

Martin hadn't realized that his Accutron was missing until he rested his head in his hands. He typically used the sound of the watch’s mechanism to drown out the rest of the world. When his patients would ramble on about how frustrating it felt to eat cold linguine or other such nonsense, he would close his eyes and listen to the buzzing noise. Having a watch was the best way to cope with living with others, he thought. If everyone has a watch that they could zone out to, then maybe they'd stop taking what others say so seriously. If a measly watch could drown what someone said, then what they were saying was not important to begin with.

Without his watch, everything sounded dire. He could overhear the conversations of others in the room; a mother mourned the death of her twins, a woman complained about how eating a slice of cake would end her modeling career, and a man discussed what it felt like to lose his arm in Iraq. What was the point of going to this ball if he was just going to hear what he heard everyday? At least his job paid him to listen to the suffering of others – this was pro bono. The therapist stiffened in his seat, knowing he would have to return to the bathroom and grab his watch. He gulped the last dregs of his drink and left the bar.

The Bulova was not there. The last thing his brother gifted him had disappeared, poofed, vanished! Martin was not fond of Ronald, seeing that he was a violent felon, but losing his watch felt wrong. Guilt washed over the aging man. Sure, it was expensive, but that was not the big issue. That watch was the only thing left of Ronnie outside of prison. To lose it was to lose his only blood relative. After checking all the stalls and sinks, Martin decided to search the ballroom itself. He hesitated to approach Cameron about the watch, but he had to start his search somewhere. He could tell the younger man was not looking to start a conversation, so he kept his initial greeting brief.

“Excuse me, sir, have you seen a watch around here? It has a green face with the word ‘Accutron’ on it. It's sort of small by today’s standards.”

 

[red.blue.hues]

Cam was in the middle of drinking his second glass of champagne by the time someone addressed him. Another man, DeMarcus Wright, a police officer, was droning in his right ear about... something? Had he mentioned his wife? Girlfriend?

He had mentioned his wife  and his girlfriend.

The younger man's head snapped up as he was approached, his blue eyes immediately opening slightly with recognition.

"Ah. Martin, good to see you." He said as he immediately turned his body away from the officer. He had crossed paths with the older gentleman during more than one hand off. The emergency room had a way of putting you in touch with everyone.

"Your watch? I haven't seen it, but I can help you look." Cameron stood and excused himself from the table with a slight nod.

"Man, you ever seen that one? If not, you should. Dude's so full of problems he's chewing on 'em." He ran his hand over his face. "Right. Your watch. Where was the last place you had it?"

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

^^^I have no homework to do because I'm on break, so I can write multiple posts a day! Yeehaw!!! It's getting late, though lol^^^

—————

“Men's room. I took it off to wash my hands. I checked every inch, short of sticking my hand down a toilet. Someone probably picked it up.”

Martin looked up at Cameron. He was petite compared to the fire-fighter, so he had to crane his head to get a decent view of the other man's face. Despite the fact that looking Cam in the eyes made his neck ache, Martin was thankful for his presence. The person Marty was meant to meet with was late. It was nice to have someone reliable nearby.

“It's funny how a simple wardrobe change can make you look like a whole new person. I didn't recognize you, Cam, until you stood up.”

The two men pushed through the patches of people attending the ball. They both looked around the massive room, hoping to see a green smudge on someone's wrist. Martin squinted his eyes and turned to Cam.

“You, uh, really don't need to do this. I mean, I am awfully flattered, but I don't want to be a bother.”

He glanced back at the table Cam was seated at. Now he realized why Cameron was so willing to help out. If he was stuck sitting with Wright, he would also look for any excuse to cut the conversation short. As a therapist, Martin had met dozens of men like Wright. They could not be helped, no matter what the other hippie-dippie therapists said. Therapy only works if someone wants to change. Those kinds of men only go to Martin’s office because their wives have given them an ultimatum. They'd admit they have a problem, then ask what they should do to appease their mistresses. Martin dreaded the idea of having to sit through a session like that without his buzzing watch. His thoughts turned back to Cam.

“How are things, by the way?"

 

[fieldofclover]

• August
• Christian

• 
  
  august.

  
  

  Being the heir to a great fortune wasn't all what it was cracked up to be, at least in August's situation. The pressure to be perfect could get to him sometimes. Normally, he'd be cool under the weight, but today that wasn't the case. He chalked it up to being the social aspect of everything, what with the public eye on him and all. If it were just another regular day, perhaps he wouldn't be so...anticipatory. Anticipating what, he didn't quite know. But he was on edge, and he absolutely despised this feeling. It ate at him, getting under his skin so much so that it was hard to think about anything else.
  
  And that's where an unfamiliar face waltzed in. She, too, was leaning against the wall behind her, taking a drag from her own cigarette. August didn't know what to make of her. She didn't look like she came from old money like him, so he figured that she must be part of the public who paid nothing to attend the grand party. Or maybe she hadn't planned on going to the ball at all. A million questions swirled around in his mind in one glance over at her. Who was this mysterious woman? And why did she intrigue him so? August just had to know. He studied her a bit closer, taking in her appearance fully. Hair the color of soot, eyes of sapphire, and a dress that hugged every curve - she was breathtakingly, hauntingly beautiful. She could easily be on the arm of any eligible bachelor in Autumnvale, or the world, for that matter. So why was she out here, alone?
  
  Before he could open his mouth to ask, she took him by surprise. Evidently, she knew of him. It hadn't even slipped his mind that she would more than likely know who he was, but considering how prominent Ignis was in the town (and worldwide), it probably would have been more concerning if she hadn't known who he was. But she was still a good distraction from being a Young. August had a quip of his own as he made his way closer to her, standing before her. "What makes you think I'm Mister Perfect?" From this distance, he could see every freckle clinging to her face, contrasting sharply with her smooth skin. She really was something new, and that notion, in it of itself, was utterly exhilarating. He had been around so much of the same lately - the same people, the same environments, the same...well, everything. And that had ended up being incredibly boring over time. But this woman...there was something about her that he just couldn't wrap his head around. He was determined to get to the bottom of it.
  

  the regal • intrigued • get me out of here • interacting with hazel • Hazel_
  
  
• 
  
  christian.

  
  

  tw: biphobia
  
  Michael Buchanan had flat out refused to believe that his only child and son, Christian, was bisexual, when he came out to him five years ago. He had told his son that it was just a phase and that he'd find the right woman in time. But Chris wasn't going through a phase. He had fallen madly in love with a fellow musician, who happened to be a guy, just six months ago. But when Michael found out, he forbade him from going out with the guy, threatening to cut him from the payroll altogether if he disobeyed his command. Christian had reluctantly broken things off with him in fear for his steady paycheck. Playing music for a living wasn't cutting it - he had to keep working for his father just a little bit longer. Hopefully, a scout for the record label would notice him sooner rather than later.
  
  Chris thought that the worst of it was over. But when his father introduced him to Ella Lawson, he knew that this was his karmic payback. Michael was determined to teach his "disobedient" son a lesson - and it just so happened to come in a 5'3 package. The New Year's Ball would be the perfect place to introduce the world to the so-called power couple, even though he wanted nothing to do with Ella or the event in general. He didn't like the wealthy side of town, instead opting to steer clear of people like the Youngs altogether. But since his father had oh-so-generously played matchmaker, he had to show his face at this damn thing. It was just another excuse for the Youngs to flaunt their wealth, rubbing it into everyone's faces. Christian was a hardworking farm boy who had never seen a large sum of money before. He was not going to dress up in a three piece suit (not that he owned one to begin with) and make niceties with the upper crust of Autumnvale society.
  
  He opted for a nice sweater, corduroy jacket, and khaki pants instead, his best boots finishing the look. This was the best that his father was going to get out of him. If he didn't like it, oh well. He'd get over it eventually. Ella would be meeting him here - it was only their second or third time meeting each other in person. He wasn't sure that he wanted to do this for the long-term...maybe his father would eventually give up and let him see whoever he wanted to see. But until then, he was stuck forcing a relationship between a literal stranger and himself. Chris was stuck between a rock and a hard place here, figuratively speaking. But back in the real world, he was lingering at the entrance to The Regal, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket a bit anxiously. This had to be a bad dream, right? Or was he living a waking nightmare? He hoped that it was the former of the two options. Sooner or later, he had to wake up...right?
  
  

  the regal • trying to stay positive • smoke a little smoke • interacting with ella • Lizy
  
  

 

[Hazel_]

Hazel observed August's approach with a calm demeanor, her cool blue eyes meeting his gaze as he moved closer. She registered the intrigue dancing behind his mask of composure, and for a moment, she allowed herself a flicker of curiosity about this enigmatic figure before her.

His question hung in the air, laced with an underlying challenge. She tilted her head slightly, acknowledging his proximity but not yielding an inch. "Oh, it's written all over you," she retorted with a hint of wryness, her voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of amusement. "The tailored suit, the rehearsed smile... and the air of someone who's used to having everything fall perfectly into place."

Hazel took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke into the chilled night air. She couldn't deny the allure of August's presence, an unexpected divergence from the usual faces that populated such gatherings. There was an air of restlessness about him, a facet she could strangely relate to despite their obvious differences.

As she scrutinized him, she noticed the faint tension in his shoulders, the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrayed a facade of control. Hazel had an uncanny ability to see beyond the façade people put up, a skill honed from years of observation and introspection.

"I suppose perfection is in the eye of the beholder," she mused, her gaze lingering on him, searching for some elusive truth hidden beneath his polished exterior. Hazel rarely engaged in such encounters, preferring solitude to the superficiality of societal engagements. Yet, there was something about this moment, this unexpected interaction in the dimly lit alleyway, that held a peculiar allure.

She awaited his response, her expression unreadable, her blue eyes holding a depth that hinted at a world of untold stories and unspoken complexities.

 

[red.blue.hues]

Cameron let out a small chuckle and he bobbed his head a little.

"Wild what clothes can do, right?" He mused as he scanned wrists and tables alike for Martin's signature watch. Voices seemed to all blend into one, the words unintelligible but the message the same: Impress everyone, but draw the attention of no one. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled it slightly.

"But trust me. It's either this or listen to DeMarcus. I'd rather do this." Cam furrowed his brow and bit and crossed his arms as he scanned a table near the entrance, where staff was set up to assist guests entering, or who wanted to enter a raffle, or if they simply lost their IDs.

"Things are... going. Worked that barn fire out on County Road 12 last week, and that was rough. Shit was hot." He shrugged as if he were talking about the weather. His eyes moved to a piece of metal with a leather band in a basket with other random miscellaneous itsems. He picked it up and held it by the leather.

"This our item?"

 

[fieldofclover]

august.

She seemed almost...tranquil as she stood there before him, which took him by surprise. He would have thought that she'd be intimidated by his status and ran the second she had the chance to. But she stood firm, and she stood strong. August didn't know how to take that. Maybe it was admiration, or maybe it was a twinge of jealousy - either way, she still had some kind of mysterious hold over him. Now, he had seen the world and loved many of the women that had come with it, but none of them made him feel as strange as he felt right now. And strange was the only word that he could put to this situation, at least in the moment.

The woman finally spoke once more, her words striking a nerve within him. But he wasn't going to lose his cool. He was going to keep calm - he had to know more about this riddle of a woman. "Maybe so," A smirk crossed August's lips as he reached out and grabbed the cigarette hanging from her mouth and brought it up to his own, taking a drag before continuing to speak, "but I think you're the exact opposite. You don't want to be perfect. You like things a bit messy." It was a bold assumption for him to make, but if anyone truly knew August, then they would know that he could get a bit cocky at times. This arrogance, of course, came with the territory. What kind of rich guy didn't get a big head from all of the wealth he accumulated?

"Tell me," His words were accompanied by another drag of her cigarette, "how'd you end up here anyway? I mean, this doesn't seem like your definition of fun. You look like you'd have fun slumming it with people of your own status." And then there was that hint of classism again. He couldn't help it, of course - he was always surrounded by luxury and opulence. She would stick out like a sore thumb mingling with the crowds that he was used to. His father would surely be disgusted with him if he knew that his son was socializing with a person of a lower status. Or maybe she actually harbored a vast fortune of her own. But, then again, he had never seen her at the same parties or the country club, so it was more likely that she was, in fact, not one of them. Unfortunately for August, he'd probably never get an answer out of the tight-lipped woman. She was much too cryptic for that. So he'd just keep on guessing until he got it right.

the regal • intrigued • get me out of here • interacting with hazel • Hazel_

 

[Lizy]

mood :

annoyed, but so ready for a drink

location :

the regal

outfit :

mentions :

n/a

interactions :

christian fieldofclover

Lawson

;; Ella

"This has to be a fucking joke, right? Like, I'm going to show up to this party and a camera crew will pop out and be like... gotcha! Can't believe you fell for this, bitch. Right?" Ella ranted, speaking over the phone to her younger brother, Sheldon. The subject of her frustration? Her involuntary union with one Christian Buchanan. When her father explained what he expected of her, she was appalled. Ella was sure, she'd shown signs of displeasure at first, but she was quick to play nice. As soon as her father waved what she wanted so desperately under her nose, she caved, she really had no other choice.

"I don't know, could be," her brother's disinterested voice came through the other line. He was actually concerned about the situation, worried about his sister's life, but he'd heard her rant about it so many times he was probably tired of hearing the same things over and over. Sheldon was really the only person she felt she could really talk about this with, since she and Christian were going to have to seem like a loving couple in front of everyone else. "I'm so sorry, is my life being completely ruined boring you?" she said sarcastically. "Hey, don't say that," he said, in a more serious tone. "You know I'd do anything for you. Just say the word and I'll help out however you want me to." He understood that for Ella, the stakes were high. He knew their father played dirty and always got what he wanted. He didn't know how he could help his sister find a way out of this, but he'd try.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ella sighed. She was sat down, perched on a stool at her kitchen island, and putting back together an alarm clock she had taken apart. She'd been finding random devices in her house, taking them apart and putting them back together for hours now, finding the repetitive actions soothing. A distraction. Usually, she could put a positive spin on things, but tonight just felt like it was going to be awful. She'd only ever even met Christian a few times, and those meetings were a little less public. Going to the New Year's Ball with him just made the situation too real. As reality set in, she'd been in a panic all afternoon, getting ready way too early and had been fiddling with devices while ranting to Sheldon ever since.

Looking at the time, she realized she should probably get going soon. "I'll see you at the death march- I mean party, yeah? Oh, and do me a favor and try not to talk to me while we're there. I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from shit talking and I'm supposed to be playing nice." Ella dismissed herself from the call as they said their goodbyes, then she let out a huff and placed her head down on the counter in front of her. She couldn't believe this was really happening. Despite the fact she felt like she wanted to hurl, she collected herself and began to head out.

Since she'd been ready for hours now, she didn't do anything else as she left the house. Taking a quick look in a mirror before she went out, she noticed her hair was slightly messy, but she didn't care enough to make it nicer. Besides, she knew she looked hot as hell either way. She grabbed the keys to her Tesla and left, ready to get the night over with. Despite it only being a few minutes away, the drive felt like it took forever with Ella so anxious to get there. As soon as she pulled up to the event, she got out of her car and tossed her keys to a valet so he could park it for her.

Coming upon the entrance to The Regal, she spotted Christian. She couldn't help but immediately take note of his getup. Not what she'd expect for an event like this, but she didn't really care. However, it did remind her of his more humble background, which she had mixed feelings about. On one hand, she did think it was kind of nice, different from the typical corporate assholes her father pushed her towards. On the other, it made her realize that there were no significant benefits to this union to her father other than putting his daughter on a man's arm, exerting as much control over her as possible. It made her feel quite useless.

Despite all her nerves, Ella put on her typical friendly smile as she approached. "Hey! Ready to get going?" she inquired as warmly as possible. "I could definitely use something to drink just about now." She offered a hand to Christian, something that would further their image of being a great couple, waiting for him to join her in going inside.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

Crooked teeth could be seen as Martin's lips parted into a smile. He gently took the watch from Cameron's grasp and raised it to his ear. Despite the murmuring crowd, the older man could hear the machine. Martin raised the Accutron to the fire-fighter's ear.

“Still buzzing! It's been buzzing since about 1964. My brother bought it second hand about thirty years ago. Gorgeous thing. He gave it to me after… uh, a rough patch.”

The ambiguity behind the phrase “a rough patch” was strange, but not odd enough to warrant questioning. He began fiddling with the strap. The underside of his arm was pale enough that his veins were visible. After a moment of struggling, the watch was back on Martin's wrist. His shirt sleeve slipped over the green face, protecting it from the outside world. As quickly as it was revealed, it went back into hiding.

“I cannot thank you enough. If you want, let me buy you a drink or something. You could tell me more about Country Road twelve. O-Or not. Up to you.”

 

[Hazel_]

Hazel's demeanor remained composed despite August's audacious act of taking a drag from her cigarette. She observed him with a flicker of amusement at his presumption, though she didn't react overtly to his brashness. There was something intriguing about his cocksure attitude, a stark contrast to her usual solitary inclinations.

"You could say I have a knack for finding interest in the unexpected," she replied cryptically, her gaze lingering on him as he indulged in the stolen drag of her cigarette. She found his confidence both intriguing and slightly off-putting, a curious blend that tugged at the edges of her reserve.

At his inquiry about her presence in the alley, she let out a faint sigh, her expression softening imperceptibly. "Friends," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "They thought I needed to 'loosen up' a bit, but I've come to the realization that I'm not much of a people person." Her eyes briefly flickered with a trace of vulnerability before returning to their calm, enigmatic state.

Hazel's gaze drifted past August for a moment, her thoughts wandering as she recalled the evening's events. The chatter, the forced smiles, the artificiality of it all—none of it resonated with her. She preferred the solace of her own thoughts, the quietude of moments spent alone or with a select few who truly understood her aversion to pretense.

"I suppose I prefer a different kind of company," she added, her voice trailing off slightly, her blue eyes returning to meet August's gaze. Despite her aloof exterior, there was a quiet loneliness about her, an unspoken yearning for genuine connection amidst the superficiality that often surrounded her. There was a tacit understanding between them, a shared sense of seeking something beyond the veneer of societal expectations, a fleeting connection in an unexpected encounter.

 

[fieldofclover]

• Chris
• August

• 
  
  christian.

  
  

  Apparently, this was real life and not, in fact, a horrible dream that he was battling against. Christian really was being forced into a sham marriage in order to protect his father's best interests. He didn't even know how to fake being in a relationship, let alone a marriage. Perhaps it would have been easier for him to have already previously known the woman. But, then again, his father didn't like easy. He took the hard way every single time. It's what he was known for. And his poor mother had no say whatsoever, making it increasingly more different for him to have an ally within the family.
  
  Maybe Ella wouldn't show. Maybe she'd stand up for herself and refuse to take part in this twisted plan between their fathers. Lord knows he needed to get a backbone. But when he caught her eye as she entered The Regal, he knew that she hadn't defied her father either. She looked disappointed to see him. It wouldn't be the first time anyone deflated after taking a look at him - and it definitely wouldn't be the last. He knew that neither one of them were pleased with this arrangement, but at least he could put on a better poker face than she was. Was it how he was dressed? Was she embarrassed to be seen with a working-class man? He didn't know. But what he did know is that he had to put on a show. This was their grand debut as a couple, and if he didn't make it at least somewhat believable, then who knows what his father might do?
  
  Ready to get going? Ella's cordial voice took him out of his own head and back to the present, where she was now standing in front of him. I could definitely use something to drink right about now. And then she offered him her hand. Chris glanced down at her outstretched hand, then back up to her, then back down at her hand again. This really was about to become official. There was no stopping it now. "Well then, let's go get a drink...babe." Internally, he was cringing at the thought of having to call a practical stranger a pet name. This was incredibly awkward. But he kept it cool on the outside. The ruse had to be kept up. Christian took Ella by the hand gently, pulling her a bit closer to him to really pull off the charade of being lovers. Was he in the right headspace to be faking a relationship right now? Definitely not. His heart was still with Dallas. But Chris couldn't have him, especially since his father had gotten involved. So he'd have to stick with Ella until his father got bored of pulling his strings.
  
  

  the regal • trying to stay positive • smoke a little smoke • interacting with ella • Lizy
  
  
• 
  
  august.

  
  

  The woman didn't blink an eye at his daring gesture. She really was something else. This made him even more interested in the woman and what she stood for. August had never met anyone like her before, but he was liking her more and more as their conversation continued. You could say I have a knack for finding interest in the unexpected. Her words just added to her allure, driving him even more mad. If he knew that he wasn't crossing the line, he might have made a move, but he knew that it would kill the buzz that had been created between the two of them. So he handed her the cigarette once he was finished with it, taking a step back to add some more space between them.
  
  August decided that he wasn't going to try anything with the woman standing before him. He could always go home with the same old flings like he usually did, because he didn't like to be alone in his own company. And all the empty space in his mansion reflected that somber solitude that he despised. As he listened to her distaste for events like this one, he couldn't help but feel for her. In some distorted way, he felt the same as her when it came to mingling with people who just wanted him for his money or his status. Those were the kinds of people he tried to stay away from. No one was going to leech off of him, even someone as beautiful as the still-unnamed woman. Maybe they'd never get to be on a first name basis, or a name basis at all. "If they were really your friends, don't you think that they wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do?" His question came out sort of blunt, but he wasn't going to go back on it now. None of his friends ever pressured him into anything. "Sounds like you've got pretty crappy friends."
  
  August shrugged as he leaned against the wall opposite hers. But when she mentioned "a different kind of company," he quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'a different kind of company?'" He still couldn't put his finger on what compelled him to her. Every time that she spoke, he couldn't help but wonder more about who she was and where she came from. "Am I not company enough for you? I thought we were having a good conversation here." His tone was more on the lighter side this time, a teasing air hanging onto every word. And if those words of his offended her, he didn't care. He was a Young, after all - he had everything he could possibly want in his life and more. He'd find someone else to interact with if she hightailed it out of here.
  

  the regal • intrigued • get me out of here • interacting with hazel • Hazel_
  
  

 

[red.blue.hues]

"Hey, if I lost something sentimental I'd be upset too. I'm glad we found it for you."

Cameron fidgeted slightly with his own cufflinks, gazing around the room. He noted the other party goers, the dim twinkling lights and the way it seemed everyone was just... trying to one up eachother. When a drink got mentioned, he scanned over to the bar.

He noticed several individuals, including a blonde with disheveled hair and am even more disheveled dress. And while he was still wary of the party as a whole, the idea of harder alcohol was a welcome one.

"A drink sounds good, my friend." Cam said with a polite smile and a nod. "Don't worry. CR12 wasn't anything traumatic. But I could feel it through my bunker gear, all that hay was perfect kindling." He said as the pair made their way through the throng.

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

“Ooftah! How freightening!”

Martin chuckled and plotted himself down at the bar. He chose to sit further away from the blonde. Maybe he noticed that Cam glanced at her, or maybe he just didn't want to talk to someone with such messy makeup. He was petty enough to do something like that. While he may not have been gorgeous physically, he always made sure his clothes were tailored to his body. Seeing such a pretty girl so messy annoyed him to no end. Why waste something like beauty? Either way, Cam was next to Bethany. Martin knew that soon they'd begin talking, and that he'd be left alone once more. He didn't mind.



For the moment, though, he had Cam's full attention.

“Why, you people go through so much. My life is so boring compared to yours. Then again, boredom is a privilege. I mean, look at those twins that died a month ago. Their family certainly weren't bored of the news coverage…”

It was odd hearing a therapist talk about tragedy so haphazardly. The other people at the ball looked over at Martin. He realized how strange he sounded, smiled apologetically, and lowered his voice.

“I know you're not a cop, but what's the news on that story? Has anything been found yet? So scary – I think the killer would be a terrible case-study.”

 

[red.blue.hues]

Cameron raised his brows slightly as he took a seat next to the blonde and turned his body so he was fully facing Martin. The couple that looked at them got a slight challenge in his facial expression before turning. But as always, ears had been perked up.

He quickly ordered a blackberry mezcal cocktail, and it took record time for the dark blue drink to be in his hand. If there was one perk of his line of work, it was that everyone knew they needed their vices. Cam drank from the straw as Martin continued and the younger man shrugged a bit.

"News? No. Rumors? Those are flying left and right." He leaned forward slightly so his voice meshed with the music and so the people eavesdropping couldn't hear super well.

"The parents might have been involved, there was a rumor of a scorned lover - both sides. A random drifter." Cam stuck the straw back into the corner of his mouth, and his blue eyes got caught in a lazer light making them even more alarmingly piercing.

"I'd think the killer would be a fascinating study. What makes you think otherwise?"

 

[Lizy]

• Ella
• Sheldon

• 
  
  mood :

  at least things are going ok so far?
  
  

  location :

  the regal

  outfit :

  mentions :

  n/a
  
  

  interactions :

  christian fieldofclover

  Lawson

  ;; Ella

  
  Unfortunately, upon entering the Regal, this whole situation did not appear to be a joke. In fact, everything began to feel more and more real. On the outside, she smiled up at Christian when he called her babe. But on the inside, she couldn't stand it. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't big on pet names in any normal relationships she'd been in either. Maybe she could bring that up at some point; if she wouldn't want to be called babe even if they were actually dating, she figured it wouldn't be too crazy of a request. But, for now, she said nothing. They were in public, and she didn't want to make things even more awkward than they already were.
  
  As Christian gently pulled her closer, she complied, cozying up to her fake boyfriend. At least he was doing well at faking it, she didn't know if she'd be able to do the fake relationship thing if she was stuck with someone who didn't even try. She could pull it off as well, looking as affectionate as ever. Ella had gotten used to putting on a facade, being painted as the fun, friendly girl for far too long; it was a front she couldn't seem to drop. This really didn't feel all that different. To anyone who glanced at them, they'd just look like any other couple. But Ella knew that there was tension between them. And not the fun kind. The awkward kind. She tried to keep her thoughts positive to maintain the happy facade. At least he was very respectful of her so far. She knew that wasn't something her father had not kept an eye out for, so she supposed she was, in a way, lucky that he chose Christian.
  
  Walking over to the bar, she glanced at him a couple times, realizing she didn't really know what to talk to him about. "Any New Year's resolutions?" she asked, using the holiday as a crutch for conversation. "I mean, I don't have any, so that's probably a terrible question. But hey, maybe you have more goals than me," she laughed. She quickly ordered a cocktail from the bar and started sipping away. She was tempted to just order a couple shots, but getting wasted would only make this situation worse.
  
  Ella got distracted briefly, looking past Christian, when she caught a glimpse of her brother watching them from the other end of the bar. She raised an eyebrow and quickly, but not so subtly, flipped Sheldon off. Yeah, she was thankful that he'd offered to be at an event she knew he didn't want to be at, just to be there in case anything happened, but it was so weird that he was just watching her and her date. She wasn't mad; she was just teasing him, really. He gave her an eye roll and shot a look that seemed pretty neutral but bordered on anger at Christian before turning away, looking bored out of his mind at this whole event.
  
  "Ugh, he's so annoying," Ella muttered, but with a small smile on her face and no malice in her tone, clearly she wasn't all that annoyed. Even if she didn't want to be observed by him the whole night, her brother's presence at the event was calming for her, grounding her in a way. She turned all of her attention to Christian before realizing that he'd never met Sheldon, so as far as he knew, she just flipped off some random guy. "Sorry, that's my brother, Sheldon. I'll introduce you sometime." Ella was sure to maintain their closeness as she spoke, and she had a look of affection in her eyes that was sure to please her father, whom she knew was around here somewhere. She spoke in a very positive tone, which honestly wasn't too much of a farce for her since she did find everything she was saying somewhat funny. "I told him about us, actually, like the whole story of us getting together, and he wasn't super happy about it. Actually, he's offered to beat you up a few times. I said no, though; you're welcome." She finished her sentence sarcastically. This whole situation was weird, but once she knew she could form some sort of conversation, she felt much better about being here.
  

  coded by reveriee.
  
  
• 
  
  mood :

  bored out of his mind
  
  

  location :

  the regal

  outfit :

  mentions :

  ella, christian
  
  

  interactions :

  open!!

  Lawson

  ;; Sheldon

  Sheldon had spent much of the afternoon on the phone with his sister, listening to her rant about her relationship predicament. As soon as she'd hung up he was out the door, having gotten ready as they spoke. Truth be told, he absolutely did not want to be going to this ball. He'd rather be at home all alone. But, tonight was the first time Ella was going to be out and about with her new fake boyfriend and he wanted to be there, in case something happened and she needed anything from him. He realized he was the younger of the siblings, she really ought to be protecting him rather than the other way around. But, she'd done that all their childhoods and he'd come to the conclusion that he wanted to step up every now and then.
  
  So, he got to the Regal. His sister wasn't there by the looks of it, but he passed by Christian Buchanan on the way in. Sheldon didn't give him a second look, and certainly didn't stop to chat. He'd never even met the guy before, he wasn't sure if he even knew who he was, but Ella had shown Sheldon a few pictures so he sure did know who Christian was. He didn't think very highly of Christian. What kind of freak would just marry a woman he barely knew like she was just an object? In the back of his mind, Sheldon was well aware that his judgement of Christian was filled with a lack of understanding of his situation. He should really just be angry at both of the fathers involved; but he thought that as a grown man maybe this Christian guy should grow a pair. It was hypocritical and a tad bit sexist. After all, Ella was a grown woman going along with this. But, Sheldon was a hater to his core and his sister was the only person to get a pass from his brash judgements.
  
  Heading over to the bar, he got himself a glass of water and sat there, just waiting around for something to happen. A few minutes later, Ella and Christian came in and went to order drinks at the other side of the bar. He looked over at them, catching Ella's eye. She quickly flipped Sheldon the bird, he wasn't surprised at all by this action, she quite often made signs of annoyance toward him over nothing in public, in lieu of getting mad at anyone else. He just rolled his eyes before tossing a tiny, very subtle glare at Christian and turning away, reinstating his bored expression. He knew Ella didn't want him to watch over them all night.
  
  He leaned against the bar, facing the crowd of ball attendees. Sheldon scanned the room, seeing a lot of people that he knew, but no one that he actually wanted to speak to. He sighed before pulling out his phone, looking super bored while aimlessly scrolling.
  

  coded by reveriee.
  
  

 

[Hazel_]

Hazel accepted the cigarette back from August, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she observed his subtle retreat. His decision to maintain a respectful distance didn't escape her notice, and she appreciated the unspoken acknowledgment of boundaries in their impromptu exchange.

His directness regarding her friends drew a brief flicker of amusement in her cerulean eyes. "Crappy might be putting it lightly," she quipped, a hint of dry humor in her voice. Hazel wasn't one to dwell on such matters; she held a particular fondness for a bit of trouble now and then, reveling in the unpredictability of life's twists and turns.

His inquiry about 'a different kind of company' elicited a slight raise of her perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh, don't get me wrong," she replied with a sly grin, enjoying their banter. "You're quite the company, Mister Perfect. But sometimes, a little deviation from the ordinary makes life more... interesting."

Her words carried a playful edge, revealing a facet of her personality that thrived on the unexpected. Hazel was accustomed to the mundane routines that accompanied her social circle, and here stood August, a curious disruption to her usual sphere of interactions. Despite his privileged background, she found herself engaged in an exchange that danced on the edges of unpredictability.

She glanced at him, the faint smile lingering on her lips as she took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I'll give you credit, though. You're not exactly what I expected from the typical 'young heir to a dynasty,'" she remarked, her tone hinting at a mixture of jest and genuine intrigue. Her gaze held an enigmatic quality, as if inviting him to delve deeper beyond the surface of societal norms.

Hazel enjoyed the unexpected layers that August presented, an enigmatic contrast to the predictable encounters she often faced. There was a sense of curiosity, a quiet longing for a departure from the monotony, that drew her into this intriguing exchange.

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

“Oh, no, no, no! I think he'd be a very intriguing man to study. When I said that he'd be ‘terrible’ I meant it in the way we describe bloodthirsty warlords or loathsome Gods. Think ‘Ivan the Terrible.’”

He plopped a cherry from the bar-bowl into his mouth. After a moment of chewing, he resumed. His eyes danced around the faces in the crowd, as if trying to see if anyone else was listening in.

“This killer, though… He's going to get away with it. I read about men like him in college. If he is caught, he'll commit suicide before it gets to real.”

Martin spat the cherry-pit into a napkin, then leaned in. He grabbed Cam’s shoulder and smiled. The older man would have grinned, but he still had something in his mouth.

“That's why we need brave folks like you around. You could kick his ass, easy! That is, of course, if you aren't afraid of a man like that…”

His hand let go of Cameron’s arm, and he leaned back with a satisfied look on his face. He paused again, then stuck his tongue out. On it was the stem of the cherry, tied in a small knot. With his tongue still sticking out, he said:



“I know a man like that could leave my stomach in knots! Eh? Ehh? No?”

He placed the knot in the same napkin as the pit, and his face returned to its usual bored expression. Even he knew his joke was lame.

 

[Peepa]

---

Casey sat in the driver's seat, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as she stared through venue in her front view window. Lighting a cigarette, her heart raced with uncertainty, a haunting reminder of the incriminating message that had flashed across her phone screen earlier. It was a chilling missive from the man she'd once known too well.

"Your blooms are beautiful, Alex. Your hiding place smells just as sweet. Happy New Year."

In the safety of witness protection, she had tried to rebuild her life, but the message shattered her fragile peace. Despite contacting her assigned officer and their reassurances, a persistent knot of fear tightened in her chest. She knew she was supposed to stay low-key, but the suffocating weight of paranoia urged her to seek a momentary reprieve.

Swallowing hard, Casey made the decision. She would go to the New Year's party, hoping the lively atmosphere might temporarily silence the relentless whispers of danger that echoed in her mind.

--

Casey stepped into the bustling venue, her attire a simple yet sophisticated choice for the evening. She spotted some familiar faces, the locals she had encountered during her two-month stay in town. She may recognize a few from their visits to her flower shop.

Making her way to the bar, she settled onto a stool. Nearby, two men engaged in conversation, one spoke with interest, while the other remained more reserved. Amidst the buzz of chatter, Casey's ears perked up at the mention of the word "killer." An unsettling feeling crept over her, and she couldn't shake off the sense of paranoia that clouded her thoughts.

She gestured for the bartender "Bourbon on the rocks please." opting for her regular order to ease her nerves a bit.

 

[red.blue.hues]

Cam snorted out a laugh at the knot joke Martin made, his eyes closing slightly as he sucked down the rest of his cocktail. Quickly, he raised his index finger to get the bartenders attention to get his glass refilled.

"I haven't fought since... Well, Phoenix." Cameron shrugged a bit and immediately put the straw back into the corner of his mouth. His tolerance was relatively high, but after two flutes of champagne and now his second mezcal cocktail, he knew he would need to end the drinking here. Lest he made a mistake.

When a newcomer to the bar opted for a whiskey on the rocks, he raised his brow.

"Now that's one you only see for the old money out here," he said to the stranger kindly as he leaned onto his right arm and placed his glass on the bar.

"Good. Drink it up before the chief does, will ya? Less work for me tomorrow." He said with a laugh, feeling the buzz hit him and some of his usual reserved demeanor at least go onto a temporary backburner.

 

[Dummy Dumbo]

I drew the drawing in like 10 minutes. Have mercy.

---------------

Once Cameron's gaze was off of him, Martin rested his head in his hands. He was starting to feel the alcohol take effect. Through the gaps of his fingers, he spotted the woman Cam was talking to. Unlike the blonde that had initially caught the fire-fighter's eyes, this lady was well-groomed. Martin was attracted to her. His curiosity was not motivated by lust, but rather by a sense of familiarity. He knew he had never met her, yet for a moment he could have sworn that he understood who she was. It was like looking at an old photograph of somebody, fully knowing how they ended up. For a moment, the therapist knew her fate.

Then he didn't. He didn't know what to think anymore.

He sat up straight, moving his palms from his eyes. His brown eyes squinted to get a better look at the woman. Martin looked like an old maid peeking out from behind her blinds, about to yell at some kids to get off her lawn. Instead of yelling, though, he squeaked. Dear God, did he squeak…

“Howdy!”



What the fuck? Martin wasn't even from the south – where did “Howdy!” come from? He wanted to sound friendly, not like a bumpkin! It was too late to turn back. The woman was staring right at him. He forced a smile and tried to navigate the conversation.

“You look… like you're used to drinking champagne instead of bourbon.”

Dear God – how could he fumble so hard? He didn't even have a crush on this woman, he was just tipsy. More than tipsy, actually. His head felt a bit woosie. Hopefully he hadn't said anything incriminating earlier.

“That, uh, came out… not right. I'm not saying that you're an alcoholic. I mean, you might be, but you don't look like it… not that you can look like one.”

He rubbed his temples and averted his gaze. When the hell would his partner swoop in and save him? He placed his buzzing watch to his ear like an ice patch on a bruise.

“Sorry.”