after-party ♔

[wynn]

♬ Jeux d'eau - Ravel

WHO || Wynn, any and all Knights not currently on missions 
WHAT || Squiring Ceremony Afterparty
WHERE || Knights Headquarters, the Ballroom
WHEN || Mar 1st, 2013, 6:00PM
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

The "afterparty" is rumored to be the real main event of the night. A black-tie affair in the lavish, opulent ballroom, it is every new Knight's chance to mingle and meet some of their new brothers in arms. Of course, a couple hours are provided following the ceremony for everyone to change, do hair and makeup, and choose from the vast array of formal attire in the closets of the balcony "dressing rooms" located at the top of spiraled staircases on either side of the ballroom. A separate dressing room exists for men and women, and they include full bathrooms (with, thankfully, very modern plumbing).

The squires are usually among the last to arrive, and the ballroom is full to the brim with a fancy array of people, of all shapes, sizes and species.

Hope you aren't shy. They're all here to meet you.

Feel free to make your own open threads for people to come congratulate your newly pledged knight.

ooc; also if your Knight wants to get all gussied up, you can make a Disguise (Cha) check for how good they were at hair/makeup/stylin', etc! This goes for... any time.

Comments

[bittersweeter]

[Lila is very good at this, or she could be if she were less of a... well, brat comes to mind. In any case, she's a phenomenal actress, so even when she's being anti-social she can push herself to act like her father's daughter. She sidles up to the huge man as if it hasn't even crossed her mind that he's actually a good foot and change taller than her and probably outweighs her at least twice.]

Your name is Russian. [The question is in her tone: are you?]

[likeagod]

So it is.

[Though his English is nearly always perfect, his voice constantly carries a light Russian accent, easily distinguishable by those who have heard it before. He's also somewhat amused by the comment, though it isn't apparent in his expression.]

I was born there, after all.

[bittersweeter]

My family is Russian. Zacharov. [At least, she thinks they are. Her memory didn't extend very far, she didn't even remember much of her own childhood, but she recognized that her own surname was Slavic.]

I'm from New York, though.

[likeagod]

[He nods in understanding.]

I'm not sure if I've ever been to New York.

[Though he supposed it was possible.]

When I first passed through the...I believe they called it the Veil? I arrived in Russia. [He tilts his head slightly, as if observing her quietly.] Have you ever been there?

[bittersweeter]

I don't think so. [She only remembered being possibly Russian because of the time when she and Cassel were kids and stole a bottle of her dad's vodka, mixing it with lemonade and little pink umbrellas and spending an afternoon getting violently drunk in Cassel's basement. Even that memory is fuzzy, though she suspected it was being of the sheer volume of alcohol consumed. She was meant to write a paper on her heritage, if she remembered correctly.

Her mouth opens a bit, as if to say something more, but it gets caught, a memory she can't quite reach.] My dad works a lot.

[likeagod]

[He recognizes the faltering over the memories only because he's seemingly done the same so often in the past couple of months. There are times when something seems to spark in his head, only for it to instantly slip away.]

I don't remember anything about my father. Not even his name.

[He says it more to by sympathetic to her plight.]

It's strange, the amnesia.

[bittersweeter]

It is strange. I remember... a lot. But it's-- [It's all Cassel.] None of it makes sense of out context.

[And her expression defaults back to sullen. She knows bad things happened in her life, but she would like to know the extent of those things. She would like the memory of getting her scar, not just the knowledge of how it happened. She wants the memory of spending the summer on the beach in Vicques, not just the conversation when she mentioned it.] It's stupid. How am I supposed to "better" myself, if I can't remember what myself is.

[likeagod]

Yes. [He nods.] I know what you mean.

[All of his knowledge is about himself. What he is. What he trained his life to be. Names and faces continuously escaped him.]

You have to focus on who you are now. You may never get those memories back. We might as well continue to move forward.

[bittersweeter]

[She wrinkles her nose at him. To be fair, she doesn't know how to act when people are nice to her. It's not in her frame of reality so this talk is making her progressively more uncomfortable.

Which doesn't help when she's already annoyed at her own memory.]

Thanks for the pep talk.

[likeagod]

[He's spent many years of his life playing bodyguard to rich vampire royalty. He's used to it, and not at all phased. Perhaps even a little amused, if the very faint curve of one corner of his mouth is any indication.]

Anytime.

[bittersweeter]

Is that what you're here for, the Knight's version of Dear Abby?

[likeagod]

[One eyebrow rose.]

Is that what you think I'm here for?

[bittersweeter]

Sir Pep Talk and now you just turned the question around on me like a trained psychologist? Yeah, aside from the Tall, Dark, and Lickable part, it's kind what I'm getting from you.

[likeagod]

[There's so many things in there that put him at a standstill. Sir Pep Talk is one of them, though he might have just managed to laugh if she hadn't called him, well...]

...Lickable?

[He blinks a few times, looking almost scandalized. Congrats, Lila.]

[bittersweeter]

These eyes? [She waves a finger in a loopy little circles around her face, fluttering her pale eyelashes.] 20/20 vision.

I stand by my statement. [She's not even attempting to flirt or anything, that isn't on her mind at all. He doesn't strike her as someone she can flirt her way to information with and, well, he's not her type. Her type being Cassel Sharpe.]

[likeagod]

[He seems to relax after the initial surprise wears off.]

I've been called a lot of things. That isn't one of them.

[He shrugs his shoulders though.]

But thank you. I think.

[bittersweeter]

It was a compliment. [She smirks a little.] Don't worry though, I'm not going ever to act on it.

[And there is the vague insult to counteract the compliment. For variety.]

[likeagod]

[Even if meant as a vague insult, he's not going to take it as one. They have important duties, after all. And he...doesn't want to be randomly licked, like any other sane person.]

My mind is at ease, then.

[Said with amusement.]

[bittersweeter]

Glad I could help. See you around, Dr Zhivago.

[And off she trots, because polite dissolutions of conversation are for losers, okay?]