Participants:
| Scene Title | Charity Not So Impromptu |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The Advocate has a New Years Eve charity ball, which goes relatively without a hitch! |
| Date | December 31st 2010 |
Ballroom
A hierarchy of spaces is the showcase of Corinthian's ballroom, which is reserved for formal functions hosted by the hotel and split into two levels. The first, accessed through an ornate pair of double doors fashioned from gold and glass, is a mezzanine supported by marble columns with elaborate capitals carved to portray bellflowers and wisps of colourless flame. It wraps around the room, providing many different vantage points from which to observe the happenings on the dance floor below, though there is only one way down, and this is a grand spiral staircase with shallow steps and a smooth banister made from the same white rock as the slender flutes above it.
An expansive marble floor provides plenty of space to waltz, tango or samba depending on what type of music is being played by the orchestra, which has its own section sequestered from the rest of the room. Thick rivers of silver wind across it and would almost seem out of place in the ballroom if their purpose was not to reflect its resplendent ceiling. Painted to depict the night sky, deep indigo with shady gray clouds and a bloated moon hanging fat amidst hundreds of tiny lights that glitter like stars when the other lightning in the room has been subdued, it takes the shape of a large dome roof and gives the illusion that the room is even larger than it is.
Roman gods and goddesses in the form of pale statuaries can be found throughout in places both expected and not, their stern, austere faces illuminated by a candlelit glow and a series of elegant crystal chandeliers. Fluffy smatterings of silver sponged here and there add contrast to warm gold walls spaced between giant glass windows overlooking New York City that span over fifty feet at a time and are twice as tall as they are long.
It's still rather early in the evening, though considering curfew, one could argue these days that 6pm is bordering on late. The Corinthian is quite crowded tonight, given the Advocate sponsored New Year's Eve party. But unlike most places tonight, this party is one with a very elegant atmosphere.
There are men in white tuxedos, and women in matching white suits tailored to hug their curves, all walking around offering expensive hors d'eveurs and wine glasses, both red and white. The orchestra is currently playing Chopin's Ballade No.4 in F Minor Op. 52, and Magnes has taken it upon himself to play the piano for this particular song.
He's in a white suit as well, wearing a black tie with a matching handkerchief in the front pocket. He appears to be very into his playing, eyes closed while people around the party mingle, discuss, and dance. It'll be time for him to address the audience soon, but for now, he simply plays.
Storylines> Mintberry Crunch Magnes says, "I think most of the characters who'd go to this sort of party aren't actually here tonight."
The decision on where to be seen this New Years Eve was initially a tough choice for Yana and her meticulous mind. With her recent string of luck, she was cautious in selecting something that was not red carpet, yet still suitable enough for her tastes. This party won the tossup, because it is one of the few occasions that she actually gets to wear white. Yana looks good in white. Yana looks good in anything, if you were to ask her. She probably wouldn't outright say it, but she would certainly direct you into the area of knowing that is how she feels. It's funny like that.
Now she couldn't show up to an event like this alone. It would really speak terrible things about her image and reputation. And seeing as how she is quite a difficult woman to breech on a personal level, her dates are hired, and very specific. They are always tall, they are always strong and handsome with dark hair either blue or brown eyes. Within the ages of early to mid 30's, and a little on the stoic side. Trying to relive her days with her former husband through a hired effigy.
The pair of them arrive together, arm in arm and looking of course picture perfect. She pays for quality, so there had better be chemistry, or Yana will be displeased. She said it before, nothing beats a man with his own return policy. Her dress is stunning, lovely and form fitting as the white fabric clings to her torso and down to her waist where it begins to layer out and fan into a bit of a bell to the floor. There are stones along the hemline to make it sparkle like winter snow, her shoulders otherwise left bare with expensive diamonds draped from her ears and fastened around her neck. Her hands tucked into a white furry muff at her stomach while she is escorted in by a man in a sharp, white, armani suit and a black tie.
She hopes the evening will prove to be divine, rather than another tragedy.
Arriving on a segway (a gift from his sugar-momma), Dirk steals the show from the woman he rides in on… after… whatever. The wheels of the little motor vehicle come dangerously close to Yana as he presses the little button to emit a tiny beep — beep! "One side! Executive coming through!"
He's dressed in a flashy baby blue tuxedo. The pink shirt has ruffles that are edged in crushed maroon velvet, and the matching cumberbund is sparkling as much as a cougar's ballgown. The piece de resistence (as far as he's concerned) is that the whole thing was free of charge, in fact, they even paid him to wear it… as long as he keeps the 'Marty's Tuxedo Rentals' sign on the back of the jacket. "Move it or lose it lady! We got the CEO on the way~"
True to Dirk's work, he is indeed heralding the arrival of Kristen Reynolds. Dressed down for the evening, she's decided to show up in an understated black knit dress, no jewelry aside from a silver pendant, and … bare feet. "DIRK! Get back here an— *hic*— Lemme on that thing… I wanna try it."
She waves her bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, slopping a little of the burgundy inside everywhere. There's a reason why Dirk chose that dress for her, it's not going to show the stains from the porcelain god later on down the road.
There's no fiance on Bradley Russo's arm. For whatever reason Nicole isn't in tow tonight. Perhaps she'd already had plans. As it stands, Brad didn't plan on coming at all, not with Delia the way that she is, but then, this is a party for his show. Making an appearance only seemed right, even if it was without Nicole. Russo's black tux is well fitted, complete with a black dress shirt and a black silk tie— black on black.
He quirks an eyebrow at Dirk and then the other at Kristen, murmuring quietly to himself, "Shiiiiit." A glance is given to his watch and then one back to Kristen and Dirk. His lips twist into a determinant frown, wholly displeased with the state of his producer— particularly as he isn't normally the guy to hold anyone's hair when they're vomiting, he's more of the vomiter.
He takes several confident steps towards them, getting stopped by more than one guest along the way. Host of the party or not, he is host of the show. Flashing Kristen his most charming smile (followed by a half-annoyed one at Dirk) he reaches his hand out towards the brown bag and bottle concealed within. "K— " his chide is gentle, barely a chide at all. Even her bestowed nickname feels foreign on his tongue while his smile sinks. With another sigh, he shakes his head, and then looks to Dirk, "Shouldn't you like… assist her or something?"
At some point, Magnes got into playing yet another song, this one a piano solo with much intensity. But after that's done, the orchestra goes back to playing something rather slow to set the mood while he walks to the center of the balltoom. "Excuse me, everyone. I know you're having a great time, but if I could have a word." He's all smiles, trying to take a que from Tracy Strauss, and what he's observed of Russo so far. "That was The Evolutionary Etude, by Frederic Chopin. Later on I'll be playing Piano Concerto number 1 In E Minor. But on to what we're all here for."
There's a motion to Russo when he enters, and a playful grin. "Other than our charming Advocate host, Bradley Russo." He pauses to wait for applause to die down for said host. "Tonight is a night for charity, the celebration of good will, and I'm sure a few of you are just here for the expensive hors d'eveurs."
He takes a breath, collecting himself as his tone shifts to something a bit more somber. "Tonight we're raising money for those suffering the effects of radiation poisoning as a result of the Midtown disaster. Children, parents, brothers, sisters. There isn't a class of person who wasn't in some way affected by this. Some of us are more fortunate than others, so I just want to ask that you see it in your hearts to share with those less fortunate. Let's show this city what the American spirit is all about!"
He offers a polite nod, saying, "And please, enjoy the party!" before the mic is handed off to one of the men in white. His speech done, and he's heading over to the commotion coming from Kristen and Dirk.
At some point, Magnes got into playing yet another song, this one a piano solo with much intensity. But after that's done, the orchestra goes back to playing something rather slow to set the mood while he walks to the center of the balltoom. "Excuse me, everyone. My name is Magnes Varlane, I know you're having a great time, but if I could have a word." He's all smiles, trying to take a que from Tracy Strauss, and what he's observed of Russo so far. "That was The Evolutionary Etude, by Frederic Chopin. Later on I'll be playing Piano Concerto number 1 In E Minor. But on to what we're all here for."
There's a motion to Russo when he enters, and a playful grin. "Other than our charming Advocate host, Bradley Russo." He pauses to wait for applause to die down for said host. "Tonight is a night for charity, the celebration of good will, and I'm sure a few of you are just here for the expensive hors d'eveurs."
He takes a breath, collecting himself as his tone shifts to something a bit more somber. "Tonight we're raising money for those suffering the effects of radiation poisoning as a result of the Midtown disaster. Children, parents, brothers, sisters. There isn't a class of person who wasn't in some way affected by this. Some of us are more fortunate than others, so I just want to ask that you see it in your hearts to share with those less fortunate. Let's show this city what the American spirit is all about!"
He offers a polite nod, saying, "And please, enjoy the party!" before the mic is handed off to one of the men in white. His speech done, and he's heading over to the commotion coming from Kristen and Dirk.
This.. does not bode well for Yana's evening. It was going so well, and all of a sudden, she is nearly assaulted. It is probably a good thing for her that she did not wear a more complex dress, otherwise she just might have had a difficult time getting out of the way, which she does, all but jumping into her date's arms as the vehicle moves through, "Oh!" Yana calls out distress, reaching out with her hands to cling to the tall man's suit arm, and press into him, while the man goes beyond his hired purpose and quickly pulls her out of the way. The two stare wide at the pair that slip in after them, Yana looking fare more appalled than her date.
Surely this type of behavior will not stand? Yana is looking around for someone to speak out against it, and deliver her the apology that she expects for the assassination attempt! She also glares at the woman's intoxication. Her dark brows fitting towards each other with a judgmental stare of fie on her. Oh the very things she wants to say, yet she keeps herself from bursting into any tirades.
Magnes' speech couldn't have come at a more opportune time. It is enough of a distraction away from the scene that just happened, and Yana is given enough time to settle down a bit. She applauds where necessary, and allows herself to be ushered a little further out of the way, while considering her donation to the event. She'll find the donation table in just a bit. For now, she sends her date off to procure drinks.
"I don't know Brad, shouldn't you be somewhere ringing in the new year with your fiance?" Dirk's snide comment to the television host is accompanied by a placating smile, a grin that just oozes smarm. The fact that he's taking advantage of the producer at a time like this? "I mean gee Brad, look at K… she's so… vulnerable and needy… ever see her like this? Oh wait… No you haven't… You were at the end of a line of co— ca cola~. As far as I'm concerned, I think I did a good job of saving her from becoming the crazy cat lady." He stares off after the boss woman with a smile. "I got her out of her room… you don't even want to know what she's been doing the last week."
A glance to the left, a glance to the right and he places a hand flat to one side of his mouth and whispers the dirtiest word known to Kristenkind. "Carbs… lots and lots of carbs." Seeing Yana's date wander away from her side, the producer's executive assistant clears his throat, straightens his bowtie (maroon crushed velvet), and starts up the segway again. "Excuse me, Bradley~ Now that tall dark and gooney is out of the way, I'm going to go score me a pretentious old woman." The little ride skids up to Yana and she becomes the lucky recipient of one of his very best slick smiles, admittedly they sometimes border on creepy but he's really trying to curb that impression of him.
Kristen on the other hand, is face deep in a plate of those very expensive appetizers. "Hey, shrimp-boy! Over here!" She's been liberating tray after tray, taking what she wants and tossing the rest at whoever is nearby. No, she's not on her best behavior. When Brad takes away her bottle, she screws up her face, ready to yell at him. Then she pauses and it falls, along with what's left of her good disposition.
Composing herself as best she can, she shoves the plate of shrimp at him and raises her chin. The effect would be much better if there wasn't a little spot of cocktail sauce on her chin. "Bradley," she begins, as coolly and soberly as she can. "Where's your … Miss Nichols."
There's a distinct scowl that tugs at Brad's eyes, lips, and cheeks, reserved specifically for Dirk. His face pales slightly as his pale blue eyes fix on the assistant with whom he's held with such disdain for so long. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, and with a quick twist of his body—
THWACK
The blow from Brad's fist has Dirk on the ground before he can even really reach Yana. Shaking his fist and then his head, Russo's jaw tightens further as he reaches forward to grasp Kristen's wrist with his now throbbing hand— it's been awhile since he's thrown a punch. With a grim smile and forced politeness for the cameras, he hisses something nearly indiscernible through his teeth to his producer, pulling her close. Bottle in one hand, Kristen in the other, he marches to the exit. Neither the host nor his producer will be sticking around for the remainder of the party, although it seems like her assistant will be…
Magnes stops, watching, then motions his hands in the air dismissively to say, "And there's our reinactment of last week's Springer!" which earns a chuckle from a few people as he goes to seek out Yana, having noted her earlier displeasure. There's a nod to her date, offering his hand to the man. "I'm very sorry for that little scene, it's being taken care of. Is there anything I can do for either of you?" he asks as he lacks his usual awkwardness and insecurity, he just seems to have shut Magnes J. Varlane off tonight. This is his evil twin, Manges A. Farlane.
Oh yes. It is going to be one of those evenings. Yana can already feel the blood starting to rush to her head from the pressure and embarrassment she is about to endure from.. well it looks like from more than one angle at this point. One one hand, she has Magnes here, which is an unforeseen addition, as she was quite certain that his idea of a classy party included pizza, pointy hats and an animatronic mouse behind a curtain, who would suddenly become a person in a mouse suit to entertain the special birthday guest. The suit and tie is something she would accuse him of 'trying' yet again, if this event weren't actually genuine. But that still doesn't mean he cannot use the event to try. Oh, see? Here he comes!
It is probably just as well, because point of stress two just landed at her feet. The man on the segway gets knocked off of his segwey by the manly fist of one Bradley Russo. This is all playing out like an 80's drama/comedy. Yana gives another surprised hollar as Dirk goes down, and she pulls her leg away, reaching down to gather the bottom of her dress up and away from him, as if he were a diseased rat, and she were going to catch something from him. When the truth of the matter is, there is more of a chance Dirk will pick up something from Yana that will make his testicles wither to the size of raisins if she intended. At least Bradley saved her from being hit on by the smarmy creature.
The second cringing from Dirk brings Yana a step closer to Magnes as he speaks up, and the woman quickly regains herself, adjusting her dress and looking to the younger man, "I must say. This is not what I expected from an event like this." and she looks at Magnes. Her eyes almost give an additional statement of 'However, since you're involved…' "Don't tell me you are the host this evening, Mr. Varlane?"
KAPOW
Dirk is knocked flat on his back and the segway wheels off, threatening to crash into the orchestra. A lucky save by one of Magnes' white suited waiters has the little machine being ridden off toward the kitchen for some of the other staff to enjoy. Boy will they ever enjoy it.
The blonde owner of the contraption is trying to get up, his eyes going all sorts of different directions as he smiles up at Yana. "Hey~ Beautiful~ You look like the kinda woman that'll give a good bl—" And he's out like a light. Whatever he was going to say will have to be left to speculation, though already some of the people around them are speculating, looking between Magnes as Yana with quirked eyebrows.
Kristen? She's long gone…
Magnes taps his chest, speaking into what appears to be a hidden radio. "We have a bit of a situation." He nods down to Dirk, knowing very well his affiliation with the Advocate, but they have an image to protect. So soon after, two large men in white suits, clearly not waiters, approach on both sides of the unconscious man to take him away… somewhere.
"Very sorry about that, I worked pretty hard to put this together with the budget and parameters they gave me. This is my job, I work on screen and behind the scenes for the Advocate." There's a slight grin, putting on a bit of public charm he needs for an event like this. "I hope you're not too disappointed that I'm the host." he playfully offers, glancing over at her escort. "Sorry, Sir, I don't mean to take up all of the lady's time."
New Years is a time for festivity, no matter how paranoid and shutaway you might be. Seamus Lane hasn't missed one yet, and dammit! Being almost blown up isn't going to stop him from enjoying himself. Fast food and snacks from the motel vending machine have made him hungry for something a little…well, nicer.
Having scrounged up his nicest suit, the Irishman tugs uncomfortably at his tie, shouldering in through a side door, and slipping a fiver to the custodian who's tucking away his keys.
He just barely missed his drinking buddy, how sad is that? Still, the first thing that catches his eye is one of the hors d'ouevres trays going by. Licking his lips, the burly man with the red curls starts after his quarry, one heavy hand outstretched.
Yana is wearing heels, you bet you. Which is a fact she would simply love to remind Dirk of as he gets up and begins to say something to her that she would likely regret. Dr. Blite plays out a scene in her mind where she embeds her shoe in the center of this man's skull. The woman's lips purse angrily together. Even though she is a woman of refined taste, she can gather just what Dirk is about to say before he passes out. That's it.. That does it.. She'll give you something alright, but it isn't what he is expecting.
Dr. Blite's dark eyes squint into a narrow, and her fingers curl slowly. With how long and pretty her nails are, it almost looks as if she is going to form claws as she slooooooowly starts to reach for the downed man intently. But there are interruptions, and before she can get her hands on him, the two men and white snatch him up from the ground. Wait! She wasn't done with that! Curses!
Yana quickly straightens up her composure to look back at Magnes, as she is forced to abandon her prey. "I wouldn't call it disappointment, Mr. Varlane. I'd only go as far as to say that I am surprised." she explains. But that is a neutral surprised. She doesn't indicate if it is pleasant or unpleasant. By this time, her date returns with a drink, wondering just what had happened in his absence, giving Magnes a questioning eye as to what he means, but then simply shrugging it off. He assures him that it is alright, and offers his kind opinion of the event. "Yes, of course, it is a lovely cause. You should be proud, Mr. Varlane." Yana adds graciously.
"Varlanes come in many shades, they're not always awkward messes. I hope you and your date have a wonderful evening. I should make the rounds, but I'll be back. Enjoy yourself." Magnes is immediately heading over to Seamus, politely holding up a hand. He needs to make sure everyone is having a good time! "Enjoying yourself?" he asks as he offers a hand to the man.
Reeeeach, reeeach, almo— And then someone is getting Seamus' attention, stopping him from grabbing one of those swirly pastry and bacon things. He looks down at Magnes in surprise, and a little guilt. "I have a ticket!" he blurts, before seeing that hand extended. A sideways sheepish smile is given to the younger man before him, and Seamus' hand engulfs Magnes' is a quick jerk of a handshake. "Oh yeah," he says in his thick Irish accent, "Lovin' it. One of th' best party I've been to all night. If y'can point me to th' bar though, it'll easily snag the top spot."
"I see.." Yana responds. Since the incident, Yana has placed her hands back in her muff. It is an accessory after all, and she intends to wear the heck out of it. Though she has to bring her hands back out to accept the glass of champagne that is given to her. "Well, I pray that the rest of your evening is uneventful, Mr. Varlane. In the sense that there are no more incidents such as.." she gestures in a dismissive wave to the ground where Dirk was just recently occupying. "Have a good evening, and thank you." she offers to him with a nod, as she and her date slip off to join the party.
"The bar is outside of the ball room, I didn't think it'd be very classy to have a bar and tables serving things where people are dancing and mingling. The waiters will accept requests, there are enough of them." Magnes isn't drinking tonight, he has to stay on top of things, though he does take some sort of fancy meat from one of the trays to slip it inbetween his lips. He peers over in Yana's direction a few times, but begins to head over to the orchestra as he takes the mic from someone.
Now standing near the piano, he lifts the mic and carefully raises a hand. "I hope everyone is having a wonderful evening. I'll be taking to the piano with the orchestra again, and we'll be playing Piano Concerto number one in E minor by Frederic Chopin. Enjoy, we'll be accepting requests after." He takes his seat, and the conductor gets to work as the orchestra begins what'll be a fairly soothing nearly 20 minute piece.
A relatively peaceful evening, for something put together by Magnes J. Varlane!