How can a moment last forever // AU event

[jacob w.c.]

WHAT A PRIVILEGE IT IS TO LOVE —//yup! This week due to plot reasons we can't really have a traditional event and I have this week pretty open so I wanted to make sure we still had a weekly event! So this is basically an AU formal party that takes place in a city with wealthy/important families. Your character can be part of one of those families, they can be crashing the party, or really whatever you want! This is just something fun to be a little more light during this angsty plot haha.

Jacob didn't want to even attend this particular event. He expected it to be like all his father's other parties, full of people that were either complacent, ignorant, or part of his many schemes, cons, and illegal sales. He supposed the ignorance couldn't be helped, the Wickliffs and Corleones both knew how to keep their secrets well from the rest of society. The thought of his family, the one in Jersey, made his chest ache. The fire had been several years ago now, when he was younger, and he'd made almost a full recovery but he'd had to move away again, to a new city. He was back in New York for now, though, at he invitation of his father. So much had happened and he hadn't seen him in so long. Maybe it was more dangerous to be here but there was a part of him that was homesick and sentimental enough to accept the invitation. Besides, Vito wouldn't have invited him if he thought it wouldn't be safe. With all his flaws, he'd always sought to protect his son.

So here he was. He was in one of the upper rooms. He hadn't arrived in the city very long ago, he wasn't planning on staying much longer than necessary, and he was just now putting on his bow tie. It didn't seem like much but to him it resembled the decision to be his own man. Vito had taught him how to properly dress up long ago and today he took most of his tips, with a well-tailored tuxedo and shiny black shoes, but rather than the straight black ties of his father's day, he had on his own, bright yellow bow tie and, though they weren't visible most of the time, he had on socks with Squirtles all over them. These two little things at least made him feel a little better about himself and he hoped they'd distract from the scars that reached past the neckline of his shirt up until about halfway over his cheek and the scars that poked out when his sleeves were pulled back. He'd rather be noticed for his bright colors and Pokemon socks than for those, after all.

He'd debated bringing his cane. He wasn't having a particularly bad day but he thought it might be nice if he'd be standing for most of the night. So, finally he'd opted for taking a simple wooden cane and he was on his way. He exited the changing room to find that there were already people filing into the room. He also noticed there was a rather sizable beverage and refreshment table. He wasn't much for drinking but he was rather excited about the chocolate covered fruit he could spot from where he was. Then there was the orchestra that'd been invited to play music for those that wished to dance. They were absolutely lovely, as always. He made his way down the steps carefully, entering the main floor and looking for someone to speak with. —A GREAT HONOR TO HOLD YOU UP

tags

[ARGUS]

[align=center]

SOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!

---

[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] Silver eyes watched the room from the little alcove Argus has claimed for them self. Their pale White hair standing out in the shadows, her skin color a bright contrast to better magnify it. She could no longer call upon the pale reflection she had in her youth, no longer pull her hand back and let black locks fall between her fingers. Now her hair was white, her knuckles were scarred and her eyes were a careful set of cast iron silver. Different, different different. It made her feel a little out of sorts in the empty spaces of the room, the sleek texuto ironed out meant to hide her bandaged chest- Argus' breathing careful and slow, could easily be explained by a sensitivity to perfumes.

If there was one thing Argus could count on it was the higher class lavishing themselves, hiding their disgusting stench of sin that seemed to come off most of them in waves. But Argus could see through the fauxity just fine without her nose. Sensitive as it was wouldn't help much in this situation anyway. Argus was not normally on the scene of parties like this. More interested in meeting her clients and her clients similar in avoidance such extravagant luxuries. But Argus has been paid- will be paid a Handsome sum of money just for showing up and keeping an eye on the boss. Both being discrete patron while keeping an eye out, an ear out. Blending into a crowd was just part of the job. Until the boss arrived she would need to come up with a barrier to keep other's away from her and fast.

The room was slowly growing to fit the amount of occupants, and already the conversations were starting. Bright joyful laughs and chubby gafauls falling from rich mouths made the Mercenary sick, even as her body carefully hid the disgust she could not help the frown that smeared her expression as she surveyed the room, a careful glass of Iced Vodka held to her lips to slowly drink. When the door opened her eyes snapped to attention. Bright eyes watching as a composed young heir step into the room with earnest eyes and a fragility set in his legs. Her first impression was 'they'll eat him alive'. A room filled with sharks Jacob looked like a bleeding wound, spiking curiosity and interest to stir into open eyes and wrap around silver tongues to take. It was with practiced ease she glided out of the corner she set herself in, the corners of the wall forsakeing her to the light of the room as she looked up and smiled at the other.

Scarred chin and Tux carefully set, Argus looked like a guy in his prime, long white hair set into a rats tail at the base of her skull she allowed anyone to think as they wish of her. Guy, girl- it was another facade to her clever disguise, but she couldn't cover the worry in her actions. While she was looking for a barrier to stop from suffering through conversation with someone boring, he looked like someone who needed guiding. If anything they could help each other out. " I'm a little new to these kind of parties, I have to say i feel a little outclassed here." Pleasantries, if not the honest truth, stated as a conversation started. Offering the other a person to hide behind from the truly disgusting fellows that had seemed to gather within the hall already.

[W]isker

[Keona.]

✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin.

Keona had a list of other places she could be, and she preferred them all to here.  No good ever came from being surrounded by the snotty elite.  Not to mention she absolutely despised wearing dresses.  Yet here the youngest ó Faoláin was, complete with a flowing sea-green gown and a mess of bright red curls.  After an hour of attempting to do something with said hair, Keona's uncle had finally given up, much to her relief.  She liked it down, and the flower crown her father jokingly sat atop it remained.  She liked that too.

This party was important, for some reason, and no matter how she bribed or reasoned, the young girl had been dragged into it.  She still did not see why they could not just leave her at home, though they must have spent an hour or more discussing it.  The ó Faoláin family were literal royalty, though Keona had to wonder just how many actually knew that.  Thus, attendance was mandatory, and they were not leaving the young princess home alone.

The blind heir had managed to convince her father to allow her seeing eye-dog, a German shepherd named Tara, along.  If that bothered anyone - Keona was not oblivious to the feeling of angry eyes - the girl clearly did not care.  Having Tara at her side, as she had learned over her time with the intelligent canine, meant less people bothering her.  Perhaps Tara was a little intimidating.  Whatever the case, Keona felt more relaxed with her dog than a walking stick.

The youth huffed, muttering about her dress, as she entered the room.  Despite her distain, she tilted her chin, revealing a pair of sightless, but immensely fiery and determined sea-green eyes.  If she looked, and acted, like a regal badass, with an intimidating Tara at her side, nobody would bother her and she could just get this night over.

code by spacexual

[arcy]

Izuku -- doesn't think he's intended to be here. He's not an important person in just about any way. He was from a middle class-ish family, not anybody important, not anybody the elites would really want at a party. Seriously, he lived a city away, driving here took forever. And for what? This? One of his richer friends, though -- a delinquent, really, rebelling against the system or something, had dragged him here. .... One of his only friends, come to think of it. Izuku was still reluctant to call them that, though. Seriously, they only hung out a few times a month at most. Even they weren't allowed to visit another cities willy-nilly. (though, Izuku isn't sure what their job is. Or what their parents' job is. Izuku is ... afraid to ask, at this point)
Which -- leads to where Izuku is now. He sticks out like a sore thumb, he thinks. His green hair is untamed as always, despite all attempts to groom it into something presentably. But no. It just looks like a bedhead. The suit wasn't ... terrible. It wasn't too expensive, since Izuku had protested violently out of sheer embarrassment(just one suit wouldn't really hurt them, after all), but it was fitted. Just a simple white suit. Better than one of his own. As it is, Izuku hovers, somewhat frightened, away from the crowds. He'd lost sight of his friend ages ago, and Izuku sure doesn't get that. Why drag your poor friend to some fancy party and immediately leave them alone? Terrifying. Izuku is going to give them betrayed looks for -- however long he sees them next. He's kinda scared of being called out, okay. He's probably not supposed to be here -- again, he wasn't invited, unless you call a rebellious rich friend dragging you to a party without warning and immediately banning you as an invitation. Izuku sure doesn't. Which is why he literally refuses to interact with anybody first. He's scared of even getting food. And he sure did like grabbing food at parties -- or just in general, if it was free. He and his mom were generally pretty well off, though they did go through periods where food was tight, sometimes. And it .. kinda was, right now. So. Fantastic.
Still, Izuku, eventually, manages to force himself to move. Just hovering like that wouldn't do anyone any good. Carefully, as though he's walking on a minefield or something, he approaches the refreshments table. People are pretty clustered around the area for obvious reasons, but Izuku tries to ignore that so he doesn't get too stressed about it. He was normally pretty okay with people, but definitely not in scenarios like this. So, without further ado, Izuku begins to, predictably, snack. What else would you do here? He's careful to double check what anything was before he grabs it, though -- he doesn't know anything about rich foods, okay. Even if they're just fancy snacks. Also, he doesn't know anything about alcohol, either. Look, Izuku is just very, very far from his element right now. Even worse than usual. When would somebody put him out of his misery. He doesn't care how, anymore -- shoot him if they have to, just let him out.

☀ what was i worth

[melantha]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"][color=black]Unlike many of the other guests in attendance, Melantha belongs here. Anyone who laid eyes upon her family during their day-to-day life might assume that the Fabers are a bunch of dumb hicks living on a lot of land. That is the first mistake: assuming someone possesses a low level of intelligence simply due to their place of residence. While it might be true for Jacky, a loving yet simple-minded mother, the rest of the Fabers are all uniquely cunning in their own right. They rose to power not through shady alliances with even shadier people, but because of her father's brilliant mind. It began with a cyber-security company which grew and evolved into an empire of new weapons and defense technology. Many of Mel's sisters entered the world of modelling or enrolled in prestigious colleges while her brother, Corbett, owns and manages an elite polo club. Occasionally, Mel assists Corbett with the horses, but her rather plain features in comparison to her beautiful family members led her to take up a leading role in her father's company. Hence, her presence at tonight's party.

Dressed in an exquisite silk gown of olive color to match her piercing gaze, the young woman casually prowls through the crowd with the grace of a huntress. Short black hair has been straightened so that it is styled in a chic bob which only grazes her jawline. A simple, yet lavish trio necklaces hang luxuriously from her neck; one, a choker, the second hangs just beyond her collarbone while the third plunges towards her cleavage which is accentuated by the deep v-neckline of her dress. Her makeup is composed of neutral, gold and brown shades so to accentuate her natural features. Melantha enjoys being eye-catching, but she draws the line at the more bold and gaudy styles which have recently become more popular.

The young woman is at a loss for what to do with herself now that she has completed the required business conversations, so she decides to mingle. Pallid olive eyes sweep over the mass of people which seems to move and breath and speak like some massive organism. Two people stand out to her: a young man with unkempt green hair and young and seemingly blind woman with a service dog. Both seem out of their element. Mel approaches Izuku first, striding over with a confident gait and a flute of champagne balanced delicately in her left hand. "It's not poisoned, you know," comments the woman with a faint smirk. Her voice is rich with the low rasp that is favored among blues singers. She gives him a once-over. He's nervous. Perhaps he was abandoned by the one who got him into this party? "My name is Melantha Faber. I'm here as a representative for Conduit." He may not know of her personally, but her family's company is one of the largest internet security companies in the world. She holds out the hand unoccupied by alcohol for a handshake.

[SÉAMUS]

☠ Seamus was well in his element, smoothly stepping into the room; picture-perfect elegance and confidence.  The tall Irishman dressed in all black, and no, the cape was not too much, thank you.  Every step was accompanied by the clicking of the heels of ebony boots as he tailed, not unlike a menacing shadow, his niece.  He understood she was uncomfortable, not fond of these events, but protective as he and her father was, there was no argument.

Aside from having truly royal blood, most Faolain's had a talent for music.  Quite a bit of Seamus' wealth specifically came from being a notable composer, and he imagined his twin got quite a lot from his musical talents as well.  He had high hopes for Keona too.  Speaking of whom, he still couldn't believe she had won the argument and brought along Tara.  The dog no doubt was an eye-puller, but at least Keona had a spark in her eyes, making up for the clear fact she was out of her element.

"Ná bí ag breathnú chomh scanrúil,," he teased with a chuckle, leaning down to make up for the drastic height difference.  He doubted anyone was actually intimidated by her.  The dog on the other hand... Perhaps. "They don't bite.  Well, not all of 'em." Seamus hopes that the young girl could make a friend, or at least find someone to socialize with.  He didn't plan on hovering over her shoulder all night, though it was tempting.  At least then he knew how she was doing, but he imagined he was somewhat overbearing uncle sometimes.

[arcy]

Izuku actually doesn't expect to be approached during his careful searching of the table. Somebody else steps close to him, but Izuku doesn't look up, instead focusing on the table still. There's no reason for anybody to bother him, hopefully. He repeats, hopefully. However, he's proven wrong when the stranger speaks, and Izuku would be lying if he says he doesn't jump, like some sort of frightened cat. He's jumpy because of how many people there were, the atmosphere. Izuku -- well, considering his home life, he wasn't the most open towards strangers. But, despite this, Izuku finds himself willing to turn towards the stranger, smiling a little uncertainly. Oh dear -- she looks like she's actually meant to be here, with her get-up and all that. Izuku tries not to fidget, because she seems friendly enough, not here to call jhim out or anything. Hopefully. So, his smile shifts to something a little more sheepish. Not poisoned -- he sure hopes not.
"I -- I'm Izuku Midoriya. My friend invited me," He says, reaching to take her hand despite the spike of panic he feels. Conduit. Oh god what sort of party was this. A fancy one, that was what. He tries not to get too worked up about who he's talking to. She was a normal person, like everybody else, just that she was involved in a large internet security company. Not majorly luxurious. Seriously, he's fine. Izuku clearly wasn't rich or anything, so she wouldn't have approached if she didn't want to. So. He's fine. (it's a little sad how repetitive he has to get about anything to really hammer the thought in. He's okay, really, his head is just a mess.)

☀ what was i worth

[jacob w.c.]

WHAT A PRIVILEGE IT IS TO LOVE — Jacob smiled instinctively as someone approached him, though he had no idea who they were. He was used to unfamiliar people greeting him by name at these sorts of things, sometimes recognizing him from stories his father had told or from a meeting he'd attended when he was younger. This person, though, didn't seem to know who he was, and he had no idea who they were either. Still, it'd be rude to ignore them and they seemed nice enough. At their comment, he let out a soft laugh and shrugged, glancing around him. "Well, 've always had ta' come ta' 'em n' I don' feel like 'm any better really, 'specially after bein' gone so long. My dad sees these kinda things as places ta' do business n' get ta' know everyone but I was always jus' kinda' dragged along. I dunno' even know why I get invited at this point," he answered, allowing his eyes to wander before they landed on the refreshment table. "At least they've always got good food, right?" he asked with a light chuckle before pausing, his eyes widening slightly before he spoke again, "Oh! 'M sorry, I didn' introduce myself. M' name's Jacob." He didn't bother with the last names anymore. He'd gotten so used to leaving them off when he was away. They always brought him more trouble, anyway. While they might be powerful, he was pretty sure no one particularly liked them and it was just better to keep everything quiet anyway. He didn't want his school kicking him out for mafia or gang affiliations or something, after all, given he wasn't even a part of it. " [color=#2954d0]—A GREAT HONOR TO HOLD YOU UP

"SPEECH"

tags

[Character Graveyard.]

COLD NOSTALGIA ✧ Natasha — Snowbound — Warrior

Natasha was from a wealthy family. The Romanoff family. They were rumored to be descendants of the Romanoff family from the early 1900's, though many not did believe the theory. Her mother was a fashion designer and her father was a business man.

The woman did not want to be at this party, but to please both of her parents, she had attended. She was wearing a long silver dress that trailed on the ground behind her and she appeared to be taller then most guests, due to the high heels she was wearing.

Natasha's attention had been focused on the green-haired boy who appeared to be talking to another, so she looked around the room and her eyes landed on the man wearing a tuxedo nearby. So she had walked over, hoping to start a conversation. "Hello." She said, extending her hand out towards Jacob for a handshake. "Natasha Romanoff."

© madi