Winter Gala

[justaddh2o]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Jeopardy
WHEN: Saturday, December 21 from 5:00 p.m. onward into the early morning hours of Sunday, December 22.
WHAT: The Winter Gala Fundraiser for Jeopardy Relief Efforts
WARNINGS: Please include any necessary warnings in your TLs.
NOTES: This post will serve as a catch-all for logs for the entire event (though you’re also welcome to post things elsewhere, of course).

It's the most wonderful time of the year! Well, mostly. In the wake of a near-apocalyptic event, the city of Jeopardy is in need. What started out as an idea to advertise Rikki Chadwick's burgeoning business, after a little more planning and nabbing some ideas from Kenzi's post, she and Rupert have reconfigured and rebranded their idea to focus less on her and more on the relief effort.


Characters will enter the venue after giving a small donation at the door and they will be greeted by a large room lit in blues, soft pinks, and purples. From the ceilings hang snowflakes made of glass. The centerpieces are also made of glass. Come to think of it, nearly all the decorations are made of glass. Except, that is, the mistletoe hanging from several of the rafters and archways. A buffet-style dinner will be served from 5:00 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., at which point, the buffet tables and seating tables will be cleared away to make room for the makeshift stage for the DJ and a gigantic dance floor.

Drinks will be flowing, music will be playing, and people will be bidding on silent auctions to win everything from one of the centerpieces to a date with their favorite imPort and everything in between. So, eat, drink, and be merry until you can't stay awake any longer. Why not? It's all for a good cause, after all.

Comments

KENZI | OPEN

[heartstings]

MINGLING
[Normally, for events such a these, Kenzi would arrive fashionably late looking absolutely fabulous. Unfortunately, she’s helping run a portion of the event so she arrives before events begin to ensure everything for the date auction is in order.

Not that she’s looking any less fabulous than she normally would.

She’s dressed a bit uncharacteristically for herself, normally she’d go for something more form-fitting, black, and showing some leg. But tonight she goes for something inspired by one of her favourite holiday ballets, The Nutcracker. A fluffy pink dress with vines of pearl and silver beads covering the bodice and upper skirt, the back cut low enough so that her glass-like wings nearly look like a cloak. A pink wig to match, done in fancy braids with beads, silver thread, and rhinestones threaded throughout. A ring on her left hand’s forefinger and thumb with matching elf-like ear cuffs, make-up, nails, and shoes all done up to match her chosen theme.

She can be found all over during the night. If not bothering people about bidding she’s asking for dances, hanging out near the bar, taking a moment to rest with a plate of treats, or perhaps catch her under the mistletoe.]


BIDDING
[A little area is set up with all the information needed for people who wanted to do any bidding. About two dozen tablets with a single app for putting in bids and a screen where up to date bids can be seen. Simple and, perhaps, less exciting than a normal auction but this way people can put in their bids throughout the night. She hopes that with the bar nearby people will loosen up their wallets as the night progresses.

Naturally, she does some bidding of her own. At first, she doesn’t have any serious plans, simply increasing the minimum bid of her friends. But after a few drinks, she sees a few people have at sixty dollars and can’t help but think a nine on the end of those would be funny. It’s not until nearly the end of the bidding window that she bothers putting in anything serious.

In all honesty, the whole night plays out familiarly to a similar auction from another time in another world. Though this time with much less jealousy involved.

She will, on occasion throughout the night, ask people if they’ve put in bids and try to convince people they should.]


RESULTS
[The same screen that’s displayed the top bids throughout the night changes shortly after bidding closes to show the winners and winning amounts.

Kenzi’s pretty drunk by the time the results finally go up and has to take a moment to stares at them before laughing softly to herself. She’d expected to be outbid as had been the case every time she put in a bid on someone she actually wanted to win.]

Hah! Take that whoever tried to outbid me!


WILDCARD
[Feel free to toss whatever at me. If you have questions HMU at rubberspaceducky.]

Results

[mysterioisthetruth]

[Beck was also watching the results rather intently. Some he won. Some he lost. He was unhappy and agitated about his own result until it abruptly shot up near the end - which put him in a better mood. So it was with a cheerful expression that he approached Kenzi.]

Did you get everything and everyone you wanted?

[He's dressed gaudily, as if he's trying to compete with the display and lights with his own lit-up hero outfit.]

Rikki Chadwick | OTA

[justaddh2o]

arrival & mingling

Over the course of the month and a half that it took she and Rupert to put this thing together, which wasn't even counting Kenzi's efforts for the imPort auction, she made it super clear no less than several dozen times that she hated parties. She still does, actually, and she's never really been able to put her finger on why, but they've just never been her thing. Needless to say, she'd been a little unsure how this might work out, but Rupert's original idea — which had since become something so much bigger and less self-serving — had been too good of one to completely shut down. The closer it got to the day of the event, the more nervous Rikki had become, especially with Klaus's power and all the ghosts following her around incessantly, making it especially difficult for her to finish the decorations on time.

But the time has come and now she's bubbling with nervous excitement. While Rikki typically doesn't care for dresses, every once in a while, she likes to get dressed up and go all out. With access to Klaus's closet, she could only ever be fabulous at no charge, so of course she'd been looking forward to that.

When Rikki arrives, she's had her make-up done with a bit of actual effort, for a change, and instead of her signature ponytails or braids, her hair is drawn up ornately with little curly tendrils framing her face. Her dress is a pale blue with iridescent sequins that sparkle like snow in the moonlight under the twinkling blue, pink, and purple lights. She's feeling pretty good about the job she'd done decorating and will have to hand it to Rupert, as he'd done most of the rest, this looked like it was going to be a pretty successful night.

Throughout the night, she'll be found wandering around to talk to people she knows, but also forcing herself to strike up conversations with some locals who are attending. She's likely to strike up a conversation with anyone who she happens to overhear complimenting her glass centerpieces or the snowflake decorations strewn about from the ceiling.

bidding & results

To say that she's been excited to see what all the offerings would be once Kenzi had agreed to take on the imPort auction would be an understatement. She'd offered up a custom piece for whoever bid highest on her and she'd offered up several of the centerpieces in their own separate silent auctions, but the real interest for her was seeing what other imPorts had put themselves up and what for.

Rikki places a few bids throughout the night, mostly just small ones for people she knew, wanting to help them get the ball rolling, but the one she wants the most is Pikachu. Ever since his post sometime around the encrypted texts, if she recalled correctly, she's been practically itching to bump into him in person because he'd said, and she was going to hold him to it, that if they survived the apocalypse, she could probably pet him.

When he literally put that option up for auction, she couldn't help herself. She'll gone back a handful of times to reclaim the top bid for a while, but eventually, it gets a little too rich for her blood and she'll have to give up and go pout to Ben about it as she tries to talk herself into splurging just a little more. In the end, she'd given it up, but when the results come out, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. Best. boyfriend. ever!

She's completely shocked when she sees how much he bid for her. How had her custom piece gotten that high?! Rikki has been struggling to kick off the business all this time because she can't imagine people wanting to actually pay for her water-turned-to-glass figurines, but Ben's put down so much that she feels a little dizzy looking at the number. She's likely to chastise him for spending that much, if only because she'll need some convincing that he wasn't the sole bidder.

mistletoe & drinks

Though she'll largely be trying to avoid getting caught under the mistletoe hanging all over the place, it's entirely possible that someone might catch her having forgotten to look up and check over her head before she stops moving to chat with someone or grab a drink.

She certainly won't be shy in asking her of-age friends to get her a glass of wine or a cocktail or two, because Rikki still thinks that America's prudishly high drinking age is ridiculous and, hey, this party is half because of her, right? She can have a bloody drink. Or a few, yeah?

wildcard

(( or if you have another idea, by all means, hit her up! you can reach out to me for ooc plotting ahead of time, if you like, on Discord or mistojen ))

Drinks

[desmodusdraculae]

[Kirk, the pushover he is, is quite easily convinced to slip Rikki some alcohol, especially after all of the work she put into the event. After one such deception, he hands Rikki a glass behind a snowflake-covered pillar.]

The bartender is starting to like me.

David Loki | OTA

[detectivedwloki]

Mingling

Detective Loki wasn't much for parties. He wasn't against them but being more of an observer, he tended to hang back and stand by the wall, watching the people all around chatting, dancing or having fun. He'd generally need a reason to approach people, but he could small talk when necessary and wouldn't be unfriendly.

Approach him?


Bidding and results

He had come here mostly for the fundraising and so this is where his presence really stepped up, given more purpose. He'd put himself up for bidding and donated some himself, also bidding on a few imPorts that he had interest in speaking more to. He lost some to higher bidders but ended up 'winning' both the Archangel Gabriel and Finn Onaru.

Then his own name was announced and it seemed that David Alleyne had put a bid in for his time and 'won'.

He sought these three out in particular to discuss the results and plans for the 'dates'.

Wildcard!

( For anything else. Or poke me on grindelwald :D )

[fireandhoney]

Finn has a brief 'oh shit' moment upon hearing that a man by the name of Loki won him. His first thought is that it's the self-proclaimed king of Asgard, having found out that Finn tricked him and won him for the sole purpose of getting back at him.

If it comes to that, Finn's certain that he can defend himself and slip away, because he's a mage and Dragonborn and sneaky.

Seeing the man who approaches him, Finn cautiously asks, "Can I help you?"

Quentin Beck | OTA

[mysterioisthetruth]

Mingling

Quentin Beck came dressed in his fancy hero costume as if he was attempting to outshine the sparkling room itself. He smiled broadly at everyone, shook hands and talked to many as he made his way inside and around the room. He was schmoozing big time where he could and making quite the show of donating. His job and side projects had given him a nice amount of spare cash and he was splashing it around tonight. His heroics had been absent from the battle in Jeopardy itself but he was making up for that now - at least in a public way.

Catch him all around the place tonight.


Bidding and Results

Thinking this was a good test of his popularity, Beck had put his name in for the auction. He also threw bids in for a bunch of people who interested him for various reasons, mostly tech related. Some he lost completely but his name was called out as 'winner' for both Bruce Wayne and John Murphy. He wasn't sure how either of them would take that win, but now they were stuck with him for that 'date'.

The 'winner' of his offer of dinner and a movie was also called, resulting in a name he wasn't expecting: Jason Todd. Well, time to find him as well.


Wildcard

( For anything else. Or poke me on grindelwald :D )

results (incoming Ronan AND Kylo)

[nightmarist]

"What," Ronan utters, "the fuck."

This in answer to Quentin Beck's name being announced as the winner of one John Murphy. Ronan doesn't care for any of this auction business, really, but he's willing to let most of it slide. Most of it, after all, doesn't turn his fucking stomach.

Taking advantage of his considerable height, Ronan scans the room with a furious sweep of his narrowed eyes until they land on the man himself. "What the fuck," he hisses again, storming forward with Kylo one step behind him.

"What the fuck," Ronan demands as soon as he's face-to-face with Quentin, barely restraining the urge to reach out and snatch him up by the collar.

Loki | OTA

[tricksterofasgard]

Mingling, Mistletoe & Drinks

Of course Loki shows up to the event dressed in his armor. All black and green cape and gold and huge, horned helmet. It's meant to be a fancy event, and the Asgardian has decided to dress appropriately.

And somehow he does manage to move between all the fragile decor and gathered beings without either horns or cape causing anything to crash. He does harbor a certain appreciation for those glass snowflakes after all. No need to make a mess.

The mistletoe does confuse him a little, however. It doesn't exactly fit with the rest and Loki can indeed be found underneath them, puzzling over their presence.

At other times he will simply occupy himself with a drink or another while observing the gathered beings.

Bidding & Result

Loki hasn't signed himself up for the auction, but he also doesn't exactly protest. Instead, he follows the entire procedure and even places a few bids himself. Mostly out of boredom - Or in one specific case to be a nuisance.

That he ends up with three wins himself? Who would have guessed. At least it's an easy guess that one of his prices may not be too happy about the result.

The Asgardian, still wearing his full regal armor and helmet, will idly be looking around for Jane Foster, Lacey Burrow and the being called Kang.

The fact that he himself has been won as well... Well. He will set that detail aside for the time being.

Wildcard

[[ As usual, feel free to poke me at skoegul should you have questions or specific wishes. ]]

[heartstings]

Its difficult to ignore Loki in his armor, especially with that helmet. Kenzi has to wonder how he’s managed to move about the place without breaking something. She thinks about asking just that until she notices him looking up at some mistletoe like he’s never seen it before.

Drink in one hand she looks up at him with a raised brow and one hand on her cocked hip. “Never seen a little mistletoe before?”

Sal the Cacophony | OTA

[thecacophony]

Sal knows that donating to the relief efforts in Jeopardy is, objectively speaking, a good deed. She remembers the video of that thin, almost gaunt looking man in glasses and his carefully worded speech about the importance in having a sense of personal responsibility. Having empathy for the plight of others and...all of it really gives her a fucking headache.

He's not wrong, though, at least about that much. The sick feeling in her gut when she remembers flying over this city and its awful state during the storm confirms it. Even in this attempt in being—maybe not a good person, but less of a chaotic blight, she knows there are personal reasons locked behind that weak sense of altruism too. Some attachment to this city (or things or people therein) she didn't expect.

ARRIVAL

In any case, Sal comes flying in when the lines leading up to the venue are at their largest. Landing on the pavement in a dramatic burst of wind, she's absolutely hard to miss, even if she wasn't wearing this deep red, Victorian-style suit. Any other party-goer might look lovely and ladylike, but since she bursts onto the scene, already surly and cussing over the lines, with a scar cutting down one cheek and a sword belted at her waist, Sal gives off a completely different vibe. An attempt had been made, at least...

DINNER

At least she makes it in time for the buffet. Which she finds is another in a series of lines, demanding even more of her patience (and this is far before any alcohol has been found, sadly). Sal moves along at a semi-courteous pace, sword still on her waist with help from some very generous assistance, but looking a hint less sour at the chance of a meal.

She reaches over to try whatever looks appetizing, filling up her plate well enough, but mostly she's trying to find the booze. After that, of course, there's still the matter of finding an open table.

RAFTERS/MINGLING

Sal should've read up more about holiday customs. Done some vital research. What would Liette have said, knowing her attempts to acclimate were lazy at best? You wear ignorance like a crown as you feast upon a thickheaded fantasy of lies, or some other fancy and inscrutable insult. In any case, walking around these unfamiliar crowds and trying to pick apart Christmas customs is an awkward adventure.

After a few terse attempts at conversation, Sal notices some...weird behavior happening. She flies up to the rafters, where nosy people with magic have the best chance to peek below, and watches as people below try to...snog under some leafy berries? She laughs like an obnoxiously amused crow. Just because she's not participating in this weird shit, doesn't mean she can't be entertained.

DANCEFLOOR

A lot happens over the course of the evening. Sal pays attention to some of it. It's when the party attendants begin moving the tables away that she starts to get fired up. Almost excited. A strange visitor from a far-flung world filled with swords and wonder and magic, her personal idea of a gala is, admittedly, romanticized.

Orchestral musicians, maybe some balladry, men and women and all other fine people coming together to dance under the warm glow of candlelight. The kind of event people write operas about, or in the case of this world, some really steamy novels.

Reality, however, is a swift kick in the gut; she's got to learn to expect this of her relationship with lady luck. Admittedly, there's music and dancing. Sal stands against the wall, arms crossed and looking grumpy and roguish, watching the crowd have a go at it.

The musicians are replaced with a person and their complicated assortment of machines. The driving beat booming through her chest can be considered music, she reasons, as people seem to enjoy it. As for the dancing itself?

The awkward flirtations underneath the berries were at least more amusing from the rafters. Sal sighs and gets comfortable with the rest of the wallflowers, eventually taking out a paperback from her suit jacket and attempting to read. The boom-boom-bass kicks in even louder.

rafters

[callmesuperboy]

"Hello, Sal." There is a whisper of wind, and then there is someone sitting next to her in the rafters, clad in a very, very, well-fitted outfit, one that is super-fashionable.

Superboy is here representing the modeling company he works for tonight, so he has to dress up, but he heard her and could not resist coming to say hello.

"You look amazing." There is a fervent warmth in his tone as he grins at her, "I'm glad you made it tonight."

His outfit was designed by an up and coming designer, and he wore ir proudly

Ronan Lynch | OTA

[nightmarist]

arrival

Ronan Lynch, outfitted as some kind of ermine-draped feral prince of mythic and vaguely Celtic origin, arrives arm-in-arm with his actual prince, Kylo Ren. Anyone who's seen the two of them attend any public event over the course of the past year has probably come to expect the theatricality of them. They indulge the cameras and then they're nigh inseparable, save for those moments when one or the other darts off to the bar for a drink or gets dragged into a conversation he'd rather not be having.

More so than usual, Ronan would rather not be mingling with a crowd. It's been a difficult week - or a difficult several months stuffed into the space of a week - and he's got a lot to unpack. He's found, however, that a night of drinking and dramatic costuming is a highly effective way to cheer Kylo up, and considering the slow and ugly death Kylo just had to witness Ronan endure, a little cheering up isn't such a bad idea for either of them.

On the rare occasion he isn't hanging onto his master, Ronan drifts aimlessly with a drink in hand, quietly readjusting to the reality in which he's a celebrity rather than a fugitive. It feels more like a dream tonight, in this glamorous and wintry setting, and Ronan confronts all of it with the same pensive curiosity he directs at his dreams nowadays. It's not all that different from wandering through an art museum, only everything on display is alive.

auction

When Ronan hears his own name called at the auction closing, he freezes. Logically, he knows it's someone's idea of a practical joke, and it's inconsequential, and it's probably even kind of funny. That doesn't quite stop his heart from racing as he sweeps the room with his eyes. This is not the Fairy Market. He's not going to disappear behind a door. No one is coming for him. But those possibilities aren't as distant as he might have once imagined. Some shit, after all, can't be unseen.

Of course it's a joke. His eyes land on Kavinsky (Kavinsky!) and it all makes sense again. The number that follows Ronan's name is even more ridiculous than the premise. It's for damn charity, so there's no way he's not going to go through with it, but do these people know what they're getting into? Ronan Lynch is not a fun time.

He swallows his entire glass of whiskey in a single gulp.

wildcard

Anything goes!

arrival

[crassidy]

[Cassidy's own outfit is a whole lot less theatrical, but all very stylish considering his usual dumpster dive look. He's still comfortable in it though, enjoying himself amongst the cameras at the entrance, revelling in the attention until he eventually drags himself inside at the prospect of booze and more company.

It's not on purpose that he catches Ronan alone, but for at least a few seconds there's no looming second presence when Cass shows up, drink in hand and smile broad.]

Trust you to make an entrance, eh? What sorta outfit is that, then? Winter werewolf? Yeti?

Finn Onaru | OTA

[fireandhoney]

Mingling
Seeing all the wintry decor reminds Finn of Skyrim, and how cold it could get there. Still, he has to admit that it's all rather pretty, and he does have an eye for art. He might just have to swipe a glass snowflake for his room.

Finn's not sure as to the purpose of the mistletoe, but the alchemist in him wants to snag a bit of it. Who knows, it might make a good poison or potion. He's just going to have to reject any kisses on the lips, seeing as he's spoken for.

Drinks
Finn idly sips his drink as he hangs out in some corner of the room, watching people dance, or just seeing the lights play off the glass ornaments. It's been a pretty hectic month, and sometimes he just feels like being a wallflower.

mingling

[bifroster]

Jane recognizes the look in Finn’s eye when she sees him examining the mistletoe.

“I wouldn’t touch that, at least without gloves,” she advised. “Mistletoe is kind of poisonous.”

Poe Dameron || OPEN

[flightforfreedom]

Arrival: Closed to 622

Poe was looking forward to the chance to relax and let loose, and Earth's winter celebrations never failed to disappoint. Wearing a sharp black suit, Poe has made sure to dress to the nines, and is grinning widely as he and 622 step into the hall.

"So, I should probably give you a heads up about my favourite holiday tradition here," he said aimiably as they wandered in. "You ever heard of mistletoe?"


Mingling: Open

Poe is happy and eager to enjoy himself, ripping up the dance floor and engaging anyone who feels like talking in enthusiastic chatter and war stories, if they're willing to listen. He keeps accidentally bumping into people, and though he's not drinking much - he's been nursing one glass of champagne all night and it's barely touched his lips - he's lost almost half of it just by accidentally splashing it when he bumps into people.

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs, reaching to brush the droplets of champagne off. "I really need to look where I'm going, huh?"


Bidding / Results: Open

He wasn't planning on bidding. But when he saw Finn's name go up he couldn't help himself. It started innocently enough - just wanting to make sure that anyone putting money down was definitely putting down enough.

But, uh.

Then his competetive streak rolled in. And no matter who bid on Finn or how much, he just kept raising it. Until--

"Oh. I won."


Mistletoe: Open

Mistletoe is Poe's favourite tradition, and as such, he's parked himself under one of them for a good portion of the night. Anyone who happens to get snagged under it with him? They get a grin as he points up to the little sprig of leaves above them.

Arrival!

[loyal_soldier]

622 has precisely one outfit for formal events: A black, asymmetrical jacket with matching trousers tucked into leather boots. Even the house fire earlier this year couldn't keep him from rebuilding the look as soon as he had a reason to do so. It's as close to a trooper's dress uniform as he could find. And now the two of them match quite well. It's a nice feeling.

"It's been mentioned, but I don't know what it is." To be honest, his mental image is ordinance and feet. And he's pretty sure that's not right, because the locals don't tend to go in for that sort of thing too often.

Kaz Brekker | OTA

[roughworkdone]

I. Arrive in Black

Kaz arrives in sharp black and a flash of red in stark contrast to the icy colors all around. It's some fantasy version of Fjerda, a child's dream of what the Ice Court might look like. If he were anyone else, he might find it enchanting. But he isn't and he doesn't.

While some others swan and indulge the cameras waiting to snap magazine spreads and fodder for gossip columns, Kaz Brekker slips by. It's particularly easy when the photographers are distracted by a white-and-black couple. One of them looks like he's weary an entire colony of small animal furs. Kaz can appreciate some well-placed drama.

It was not his original plan to be here tonight, but it's a chance to learn more about his fellow imPorts and the world he finds himself in. What better than a charity event? People ostensibly at their best though Kaz has yet to see such an event that is completely without self-interest. People giving so that they will be seen giving. It will make good people watching, regardless of whatever else happens, and he could use the distraction.

His first order of business is to find a drink or two.

II. Sit in Back

Kaz purused the silent auction, shaking his head as he realizes people are offering up their time. A brief, temporary indenture. Some of the numbers are already impressive but one eyebrow lifts when he sees a few familiar names. One, in particular, should not be inflicted on anyone, for any reason. Kaz debates his course of action and finally leaves a bid.

If he wins, Kavinsky can have a nice date with no one.

Mission momentarily accomplished, Kaz finds a seat at a quiet table near a wall: he has a decent view of the room but he isn't immediately in the line of heavily traveled route. He plants his cane between his legs and lets his hands lean on it as he stretches one leg out. The cold snap in Maurtia has been hell on his nerves.

He hears the auction results announced from where he sits and a smirk ticks the corner of his mouth. Oh good, he won.

III. Wildcard

Surprise us!

sit in back;

[pillz]

Kavinsky hasn't talked to Kaz since he gave him some rude cologne. In time, he will have reason to wonder if Kaz's rude ghost date was some kind of revenge for that. Possibly, in five minutes time from now.

But for right now, he's merely stumping over to the winner of his date, holding a glass with the remains of three fingers of old-as-fuck whisky in one hand. He's dressed all in white, with narrow, fitted lines, a sharp accent of black leather in the collar on just one side. It makes him look like a frosted ice pick of a boy, cold, narrow, razored fine.

He flops down in the seat beside Kaz and looks into his face.

"I lost everything, personally," he announces. "Congratulations."

Kirk | OPEN

[desmodusdraculae]

Ming...ling?
[It doesn't take Kirk long to feel awkward and horribly under-dressed, despite wearing a simple black suit with a plain red tie paired with red glasses. What was it with these things and dressing up like a fashion model?

Though he'll speak an awkward hello to anyone who gets too close to him, he finds himself seeking out corners and propping up walls, careful to avoid the mistletoe...

Except he absolutely misses one of the hanging mistletoe, and inadvertently finds himself standing directly under it in one of his many attempts to hide in the crowd.]

Auction & Results
[Kirk inevitably finds himself drawn to the auction area, curious to see what others had put up for auction. As the night goes on, he finds himself continuing to check on one in particular, super casually wandering off it anyone gets nosy about what he's looking at.

That said, he's still somehow surprised when the results are released and he's found the winning bid for Abigail Hobbs. He rubs his neck, looking around for her in the crowd.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to throw anything at me. If you want something specific, give me a poke at redconfession]

ming...ling!

[the_horror]

[You there, propping up the wall. Ben slips over, dressed almost silly like a prince. He wanted to match Rikki for the most part. Anyhow, he slipped up and leaned on the wall beside the other, crossing his arms.]

[He stood there smirking for a moment, before coughing into a hand.]

It is my duty to tell you something very important. You're totally going to want to know.

M | OPEN

[heliophilic]

Arrival and Mingling
[Let it be known that a killing machine, M has come to enjoy a good party. Not for the usual party aspects, of course, but he enjoys them all the same. Dressed in a simple yet classy steel blue suit, and with the world's sexiest arm candy in the form of Apollo (whom he forced in a respectable white suit) in tow, M is all too happy to preen like the murderous peacock he is.

Once settled, M does separate from his partner and begins to mingle in through the crowd. He is found at the buffet, saying hello to anyone he knows (or might look interesting), or any number of other places in the large gala space.

A spot he is very pointedly avoiding is anywhere mistletoe might be found. Sorry gents, he's taken.]

Auction & Results
[Like most things in life, M operates on whims. He bids on several of the auctions in the beginning, out of morbid curiousity, before focusing on the ones he genuinely cares about as the night goes on.

And, perhaps in thanks to that little fight computer in his head, he finds himself the victor in both of his auctions. Bean and Loki's auctions are his.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to throw anything at me. If you want something specific, give me a poke at redconfession]

mingling

[killtime]

[ Andy isn't here to socialize. She's on loan from the Falls, apparently, judging from her officer's blues. Just as well. There isn't much for her to do at these kinds of things except drink — and sure, she's been an alcoholic for a couple centuries now, but she's trying to cut back a little, these days.

He's one of the only people she cares to talk to. So she puts aside a moment to find him later.

With an amicable wryness, as she gives him a casual once over: ]

Now I almost get what Apollo sees in you.

Dr. Stephen Strange ۞ OPEN

[timestones]

❄ Arrival ❄

Once upon a time, Stephen heard camera shutters not infrequently and high-profile medical conferences and dinners. But that isn't really his life anymore and hasn't been for a nebulous, fungible amount of time and actual celebrity status in a public-eye, flashing camera sense really is something that is taking some getting used to.

Fortunately for Stephen, he has a lot of years of self-assured confidence to draw on which makes the transition a little bit easier, at least for the sake of good photos. And when he's decided that if you're going to a winter gala then you need to go big or stay home when it comes to outfit, having a vast supply of confidence to draw on is nothing to snuff at.

In point of fact, Stephen has enough poise and charisma to go around and he has absolutely no qualms about passing that along, especially to anyone looking a little too singled out or unsure in front of the lens. For people like that, he moves closer with a steadying presence, maybe a hand on the shoulder or middle back to adjust posture subtly and indicate where to look for better shots--it's largely about striking an image of winter royalty fantasy for when the reports of the night start pouring in.

For more confident types there is less need for misdirected assistance and more mutual posing, but whichever the case may be, eventually Stephen leans in to his photo partner.

"I can't see anything, can you? Perhaps we've given them enough for now--they say the camera steals the soul and I'm not sure I want to lose any spiritual weight right now."

He gestures toward the gala entrance.

"Shall we?"

❄ Mix and Mingle❄

Straight-backed but slack-shouldered, Stephen floats between a state of content wallflower and vibrant conversationalist with ease. He's there to be present, but not overbearing, enjoying the ambiance of a universe saved and a mixed sense of victory.

The good thing about standing with a magician is the way that if you happen to come a bit too close to him, drinks sort of appear in empty hands, or magically top up.

He gives a careful sideways glance to the recipient.

"Don't give me up, they'll try and get me on staff and fire the rest. Hardly seems fair."

Beyond that, especially keen eyes might catch him conjuring small flickers of magic, little gold discharges floating off into the party space and settling in choice locations to bring a bit of sparkle to personal accessories, a little more glitz to decorations, or a just a general extra bit of sparkle in the air.

Maybe the Mystic Arts shouldn't be used so casually for aesthetic displays, but tis the season, and the apocalypse didn't happen.

❄ Auction❄

During the auction, Stephen hangs further back, sipping quietly from his glass and watching the bidding unfold with an unfocused look in his eye, only partially listening. It's not disinterest exactly, more like he's taking a moment to recharge during something that is nothing really to do with him, but he refocuses on the present whenever someone comes close to his immediate personal circle.

"Anything catching your eye?"

❄ Mistletoe❄

As the night wears on, where Stephen has been studiously avoiding mistletoe laden alcoves, he may be found less on guard in his gentle-buzzed state, veins thrumming warmly with alcohol and festive vibes.

He's not so far gone that he can't stop himself before stumbling directly into anyone though.

"Whoops." That's the first greeting before collision occurs (at least from his end).

"Hi." That's the second greeting.

"Oh." That's the third, after noticing what's hanging overhead.

❄ Wildcard❄

[Dinner? Dancing? Something else entirely? Hit me! You can also grab me via PM and on plurk kralkatorrik!]

Mistletoe

[tricksterofasgard]

Loki can't claim that the alcohol is doing the same for him, even as the time moves on. The drinks are at least enjoyable however, and he may have spent more time around the gala than he initially had planned.

At some point between his arrival and now, the Asgardian's helmet has even shifted its shape and appearance. Scaled down from the imposing golden monstrosity of large, curved horns to a more manageable headpiece that may still bear curved horns, but at a less ridiculous size.

It's a conscious decision on Loki's end to approach the doctor eventually. The man has shown himself to be quite the party magician over the course of the evening, but up until now Loki has contended himself with simply observing. But observing is only fun for so long.

His hand comes up out of reflex in response to the near-collision and Loki plain blinks at the other man's reaction. This is already up for a good start. He nods at the short greeting and responds with an acknowledging "Stephen." while following the man's attention upward and - Oh. One of these.

"I was originally planning to compliment you on your attire, but-" Traditions, right?

Tyl Regor | OPEN

[biochemastery]

Arriving in Style

This party was going to be a problem, from a fashion perspective. If they were anything like at home, well--no, they wouldn't be. These people didn't seem to go in for speeches about the eternal glory of their leaders, executions of traitors, and after-parties that literally brought the house down. Still! He had to have something to wear.

That meant stealing clothes from work. When he wasn't off in his lab, he'd been assigned to be a model for the Alexis McKing fashion line. He'd very quickly made it clear--Unless there was something worth his time, he wasn't touching those hideous "suits" they made for males. There was no waistline! Barely any curves! Disgusting. They did tailoring, didn't they? Fit something """feminine""" to his proportions and then maybe he'd come in to work.

They'd eventually caved, like he knew they would. And so tonight, he'd appropriated something from the last fashion show, all the way down to the shoes. The heels made him taller than the rest of the crowd, he absolutely was not doing without them. Only one problem--the whole ensemble was fit to his human body. Ruinously blond and un-grineer. Ugh. He'd make do. He could make even this look good.

He's ready to slay, but the tone of the party has made it clear--that's sadly going to remain a metaphor tonight. Oh well. At least he stands out in black.

Missile Toe??

He really has no idea how human brains worked. Everything was all glass and ethereal white and temptingly breakable, and then there were these... little plant-danglers, hanging from some of the archways. What were they? Why did they clash so hard with the decor? What was their purpose?

He was standing underneath one, trying to get a closer look at it. Staring at it. Daring it to reveal its secrets.

Also, drinking. That might have something to do with how intensely this mystery has its grip on him right now.

Wildcard!

[Y'all know the deal, I'm at PaleAntiquarian]

missle toe

[h2no]

Slightly drunk, Archie makes the fatal and very predictable mistake of obtaining a new drink for himself, then turning and walking directly into this man-mountain. He yelps, grabbing for his glass as it upends itself and shatters on the floor.

"Fuck!" he yelps, "Sorry!"

Finn | OTA

[hatejakku]

Arrival & Mingle
[ Finn had sworn he was never coming back to Jeopardy. He had sworn that about five times in the past year. But here he was, in Jeopardy, all dressed up in a flashy white suit to sort of flaunt himself for the auction. Or, rather, the person who sold him the suit said he could flaunt it. Whatever.

He was happy to fit the almost white theme, though, practically blending in amongst the blue and pink lights. If this was the start of the whole Christmas holiday he's heard so much about, he decided that he liked it quite a lot so far.

Finn flitted around to groups of friends and strangers alike, flashing a smile and chatting for a moment before moving on to the next group. He was mostly getting a feel for the atmosphere of the night, a little nervous about this auction and wondering if maybe he shouldn't have put his name in after all. ]

Auction & Results
[ Yeah, he's definitely nervous.

As the auction kicks off, he keeps moving around the room, giving out smiles and words he hopes doesn't sound half as scared as he is. Why he's so nervous, he isn't totally sure. Is it because no one may bid on his little $10 date or because someone might actually win it?

Whatever happened, whoever won, he planned to have fun and get to know them. Do something enjoyable with them, surely. So he kept moving around with a flute of some bubbly drink in his hand, completely unaware that his bid was rising a lot higher than expected.

Until the auction's over, that is. He doesn't get the name of the winner at first, just the figure. Or maybe he did get both, but his eyes were definitely just on the figure.

$1,150.

He sat down in the closest chair his body found. Sorry if it was yours. ]

Dancing & Drinking & Mistletoe
[ With the apparent stress of the auction over and the revelation that his winning bid was submitted by Poe of all people, Finn finally allowed himself to have a little fun.

He really enjoyed dancing at FanPort, so Finn made his way to the dance floor after a couple of drinks limbered him up. Thankfully, he wasn't half bad at the whole dancing thing and certainly looked a lot happier and carefree than he had when he was attempting poorly to mingle.

After a good run of it, Finn took a break. He leaned against an archway with another flute of that bubbly liquid he was starting to like.

Yes, he'd noticed the mistletoe above his head. No, he had no idea what it was or meant. Pretty little sprig, though. ]

Wildcard
[ Or just run into him somewhere at the party. If you have something in mind you want to run by me, hmu at linatrinch ]

Mistletoe

[flightforfreedom]

You know what that is, right?

[ Poe asked amiably, pointing about Finn's head. ]

I can't decide if you're fishing or you just don't know where you are.

Anders | OTA

[rebelhealer]

Mingling
Anders leaves a fairly generous donation upon entering the hall. Having money means he can be generous with it, in ways he couldn't back in Kirkwall. The decor is interesting to him. Fancy, but not gaudy, and the faux-ice look fits with the whole winter thing.

He starts to wander around, looking for any familiar faces, and eyeing the buffet table.

Auction Results
Anders didn't think he'd go for more than his initial bid, which is why he left a fairly good donation when he got in. Hopefully every little bit helps, even if he didn't manage to raise that much money.

Apparently the person who won him is someone named Rupert Von Hentau. Anders isn't familiar with the man, but he won dinner and a not-date. Anders sits where he is for now, so the guy can come to him, figuring that he can go looking if more than a half-hour goes by.

Dancing and Mistletoe
Anders doesn't really dance, so much as just sways in place with his arms hanging at his side. Anyone may come up to him, and he may start dancing his famous Anders Spicy Shimmy if he really gets in the mood to dance.

The mistletoe, that he figures is just a weird decoration. He stands under a bushel, looking up at it. "Pretty sure mistletoe's toxic."

auction results

[leatherboots]

Here's Hentzau, descending on Anders's table shortly after the bids are announced. He'd made a smattering of bids throughout the night, half-serious and half in jest, and all in the name of making new friends and acquaintances. Rupert beams at him, sliding into the free seat next to him, and sticks out a hand to shake.

"Anders, yes? Rupert von Hentzau, at your service."

Kang | OTA

[governorkang]

Mingling

Kang's switched up his wardrobe a little for this event. Instead of wearing his usual dark blue, he's gone for something a little bolder: a black kilt, an off white tunic, and a wine red cloak. He's also pulled out the thick gold chain necklace that is a symbol of his position back home, freshly polished and gleaming in the light along with the dark bronze of his scales.

He's in a good mood, having just finished his finals for the semester, and will chat with anyone he recognizes or approaches him, a drink in hand and a smile on his face. He might even dance with one or two people that he particularly likes.

For the most part, he manages to avoid standing under the mistletoe, but there's a few moments when he forgets or is distracted by a conversation and leaves an opening for anyone that's brave enough to try to kiss a seven foot tall draconian.

Bidding and Auction

Also surprising for him, he'd decided to offer himself up as a platonic date for the silent auction. The money does go to a good cause, and the imPorts are responsible for summoning Clotho and Lachesis, and thus the damage to Jeopardy, even if it was to save the multiverse. It's just one night, after all.

Looking through the other options, he does place a bid on one person that he has shared interests with. When the winners are announced, he learns that he was outbid and Loki has won him.

He doesn't know much about this person beyond him claiming to be a god. It's going to be an interesting night.

Post Auction

[tricksterofasgard]

In all fairness, Loki himself doesn't know much about the beings he bid on. Most of his bids were placed for the fun of it, the rest to be a pain in someone's side. That he does end up with a few wins is unexpected at best. And yet the Asgardian sets out to find the poor souls he gets to spent some time with.

The draconian at least is easy enough to locate. And while Loki's ridiculously large helmet has by then be reshaped into a less imposing (yet still remotely ridiculous) headpiece of similar design, he might still stick out well enough as he weaves his way through the gathered beings with a certain grace to himself.

"Kang, I presume." He greets Kang with a short nod upon reaching his position "I am Loki of Asgard."

ruka 🐉︎ ota

[dragony]

[ She hadn't much wanted to return to Jeopardy at all. It had been a miserable, stressful place to live, marked by more loss than she's allowed herself to feel, and that was before the near-end of the world. The converging of power and the opening of the storm... there's a lot of it she can't quite remember, and Ruka has always been leery of the dark places in her memory. They usually hide the sort of things that should never see the light of existence in the first place. But it's not her that's suffered the worst, and certainly imPorts have their duty to help the people who have had no real choice in taking them in, and — well. More than one "inheritance" came with the presumption she'd do the right thing.

As ever, Ruka finds herself acting for the sake of those that cannot be seen and can no longer be heard.

She arrives dressed up for the occasion, but not in the soft, delicate palette of the party itself: she wears a dress of many blues, deep and saturated, pale and icy, but cut through and made stark by a violent climb of vibrant red, like the garment itself bore the same wounds as the world. As usual, her hands are gloved, and her left eye is covered by a heart-shaped patch, and her twin buns are fastened in place with a pair of ribbons — all in that same near-bloody shade of red. Outfit matches mood: always a little too serious, a little too raw, never quite able to relax into the intended levity. ]

♥ auctionable offense

[ Ruka had signed herself up for bidding easily enough — good cause, and all that, and what was the point of the inherent celebrity of being an imPort if you didn't use it? (Especially one of her long tenure, one of her even-now questionable reputation.) It had felt like an easy thing to assign a bare-minimum value for her time, to offer something worth chasing... but as she reads over the other offerings... ]

It really is a lot of date-dates, isn't it, [ she says as she flips through one of the provided auction guides, paying no mind to who's in earshot. ] Wonder how many of them signed up because they're lonely.

[ Rude?? ]

♥ dinner and a-movin'

[ Open bar? Nice. Hell yeah. These past two years have been a sober and sobering affair, too stressful and too dangerous for too long; even when she drank, it only kind of helped. Now? She can actually enjoy it?? Wild.

Open buffet? No. Helllll no. Ruka takes one look at the line of hotel pans, the provided tongs and serving spoons, and immediately abandons the idea of the dining queue. It's a damning prospect either way.

Of course, the dinner service is a long event, and it'll be a longer time than that before the auction's over — too much time to spend drinking on an empty stomach. Maybe you'll catch her turning away from the buffet in quiet discomfort, or maybe it's a few hours later and you find her with a cocktail balanced precarious against her arm as she fumbles through her purse and fusses with opening a very unappealing nutrition bar. Either way, she's quick to notice the attention. ]

[ Exasperated: ] What?

♥ last call (for bad decisions)

[ The bidding is over and done with; she's a little flattered to have broken into the $1K club, and she came out on top for a couple bid-wars of her own. Not bad. Now it's just a matter of checking in — to see if she needs to coerce her high-bidder into a secondary donation, for the additional offered prize — and scheduling those ""dates."" She doesn't think any of them will mistake her intentions... but better safe now than spilling sorries when she gets home.

Of course, finding the right people isn't an instant thing, and now that she's thinking about heading home after this... well, surely no one's going to care if some of that mistletoe walks out as a souvenir, right?

So maybe she was meant to be looking for you, or maybe not, but just maybe you come across Ruka making a short tower of dining chairs in one of the thresholds and carefully climbing up to untie one of the many hanging sprigs of mistletoe. As usual, her expression is pretty serious, but... hmm. How much did she drink tonight, anyway? And how long have knots been so complicated? ]

♥ wildcard

[ got something specific in mind that doesn't quite fit? just slap that shit down and let's party. ]

last call

[besainted]

[ He's been meaning to seek Ruka out for a while now regarding very important tea-related matters, and an accidental bid really sounds like a perfect excuse for it. He didn't necessary need her personal time, exactly ... but now that he's bought it, may as well, right? Cassidy may have essentially yanked a grand out of his pocket, but Damian has decided this is a mishap he can work with.

Also, no need to bring up the unintentional part, he's decided. That's probably not what anyone wants to be told.

So when he tracks her down it's very much intentional, and he wanders to her chair-tower with two drinks in hand. Her efforts get a raised eyebrow, but no offer to help. Kinda looks like she's got this, whatever this is. ]

Are you predicting a mistletoe shortage? Should I be stocking up in preparation too?

[ He doesn't expect to be remembered, at least not by sight — though of course he's done his network-based homework like a good new arrival, and had known exactly the face he was looking for. It's fine, they can work their way to proper introductions. ]

Bruce Wayne | OTA

[the_caped_crusader]

Mingling

[ bruce comes dressed to the nines, but when have you ever seen bruce wayne not in at least a $5,000 suit? COME ON. the only striking difference is the white bow tie, a nod to the winter gala and festivities, but one that stands out against the rest of his dark suit. on his way in, he drops a check into the donation box with a few too many zeroes, but plays it off casually as he makes his way into the room.

while in reality, bruce may not like talking and is otherwise something of a recluse, he does well to give off the air of an affable lush, a glass of ginger ale in his hand meant to be perceived as champagne to those not eager to look much closer. if you come up and ask him to dance, he'll smile at you, acting a little looser after a couple of "drinks," and tell you of course. he would love to. he smiles his billion dollar smile and laughs with you almost as though it's the most natural thing in the world to him. but then he always was a good liar.

Bidding

[ bruce very notably doesn't bid. he's not interested on going on a date, and in fact, the only reason he put himself up there in the first place was to support the event itself. it's why he set his price so low, in fact, as to invite others to spend well within their means rather than feel deterred by a price well outside of it. but he sits as he has been, smiling and eyeing those mingling close to the box until the bidding is over and the results are called.

to say that he wasn't quite expecting this result... would be an understatement... ]

Wildcard

[ hit me up at BATGUY if you want something specific or closed to you! ]

[mysterioisthetruth]

[Beck has come to the gala dressed in his gaudy, lit-up superhero suit, complete with cape. But he wears it well and has been in a fairly good mood all night, chatting with others and making a number of donations. Nowhere near a huge amount - he has decent cashflow but is no billionaire - but he's been making quite a show that he is giving. Bruce Wayne wasn't the only person he'd bid on but he was the one he threw the most cash at and had highly hoped to win the time with. Certainly not for any romantic reasons. He wanted to talk more about what they could do together and it seemed a perfect opportunity to get a hold of him in private. Eventually. Of course right now it was public, but he approaches with a beaming smile.]

Bruce Wayne! Seems like we have a very grand date for the future.

Caleb Michaels | The Bright Sessions

[atypically]

arrival & mingling

Okay, so he promised himself he'd never, every fucking go back to Jeopardy, but come on. That place got so fucked up in that apocalypse and the people that live there, like, still fucking have to live there. He hadn't been able to do much to fight the good fight with everyone else and Caleb only ever really wants to help people, so when the opportunity to put himself up for auction had risen, he had taken it. So even though parties aren't really his thing, pretty much only because they're A Lot to deal with emotionally when one's an empath, and even though this damn thing is in Jeopardy, Caleb gets dressed up and goes.

For a while, he sort of hangs back and just observes, a lot of times probably looking really tired and overwhelmed, but that's mostly just because he's trying to process all the different emotions. He'd thought that coming to this thing, he'd just be really fucking excited and happy because isn't that really what most people feel when they come to a party? But at this one, there's a lot of other feelings, too. There's nervous energy prickling at his skin like ants marching over his body if his body were covered in sunburn. There's also the sorts of warm, enveloping feelings of love and admiration that he misses feeling for himself in Adam's absence. They're orange, pink, and yellow cushy blankets of happiness that slither around his whole body and hug him pleasantly for the few moments that they're in his vicinity before they leave him cold again as they pass out of his radius. Then there's pops and flashes of negative feelings; people who don't want to be here, but got dragged by date or people who feel like they're obligated to be here even if they don't care.

It's a lot, but after an hour or so when the food goes away and the drinks come out, Caleb's feeling more adjusted and content to be here. He's not great at socialization, but he does try, so there's that, at least!

bidding & results

Caleb bid on several people until their prices were above the $25 threshold he'd set for himself. It's a shame he couldn't wager more, but working part-time at a burger joint doesn't really give a guy a whole lot of spending money.

He's super disappointed when he gets hugely outbid on Klaus Hargreeves. He'd talked to the guy, like, one time or whatever and he wasn't interested at all in a date with him, but he'd said the thing about tarot readings on his offer and Caleb thought that sounded cool as fuck. He didn't have $420, though, so he'd moved on to make a few other bids on a few other people, continuing to bid on things until he'd been outbid in a way he couldn't one-up, then moving onto the next thing.

A home-cooked meal is the thing that grabs his attention from Tina's offer, whoever she is, because he hasn't had one of those since arriving here and it makes him think of his mom and how she used to cook dinner all the time. And of Adam, who used to cook for them a lot, too. The horse thing sounds legit, too. Like, when the fuck is he ever going to get to try that again, right? Probably not at home in the city. What the fuck, why not? He's pumped when he actually wins it. Even though Caleb doesn't know who Tina actually is, it's cool as shit to win something. Plus, free food, fuck yeah!

He's pleasantly surprised, too, to see that the winning bidder on his offer to build a personalized playlist over coffee, Carol Danvers, was for some reason, willing to drop $25 on it. His starting bid had been super low, at $5, so he was really stoked that someone thought having coffee and letting him put together a Spotify — or whatever this place's bullshit, knock-off version of it was — playlist for them was worth spending money on, even if it was for a good cause. It was especially cool that it was Carol Danvers, though, because even though he didn't know her at all, he'd seen her offer and had been really bummed that the starting bid was way out of his range. She could fly an airplane and that was fucking cool as shit. She'd be getting a playlist, but he wanted to talk to someone like her. Caleb bet she had tons of cool stories to tell.

mistletoe & drinks

Caleb isn't really intentionally avoiding the mistletoe, for the most part, because he figures if someone tries to kiss him, he can always turn his head a little to force it on the cheek or he can tell them to back the fuck off, if he's feeling especially moody about it, but he ends up not really being stuck under it often, thankfully. He thinks it's a cute tradition and shit, but like, he's got a boyfriend at home who probably wouldn't appreciate him indulging it. He certainly wouldn't fucking want Adam kissing some dude under the mistletoe. Or a chick, really, but Adam doesn't really do both like Caleb does. Did? Whatever.

That said, it's not impossible to find him under a sprig of it if he's not really paying attention.

With all the drinking everyone else is doing, though, even though Caleb hasn't had a single drop of alcohol, he's been getting progressively more and more inebriated as the night wears on. It never made sense to him why he can feel drunkenness — even the "adult drunk" feeling he got at Adam's birthday when Adam's mom and dad were each having a glass of wine — but it happens, anyway, whether he likes it or not.

The more people drink, the more Caleb gets drunk. Given that he's still at a party surrounded by people having a good time, he's at least a happy drunk, slurring and stumbling, but laughing at damn near everything and more than happy to share with anyone he might have even the slightest connection with how much he loves and appreciates them in his life in this shithole.

Somebody please take this kid outside for a little bit so he can sober up? Holy shit.

wildcard

(( or if you have another idea, by all means, hit him up! you can reach out to me for ooc plotting ahead of time, if you like, on Discord or mistojen

NOTE: Please fill out Caleb's permissions form if you haven't already and you want to tag into him. Thank you!))

Bidding

[continuousgroaning]

Tina's a little put off that she hasn't gone for more money... but on the other hand, she's surprised a stranger bid on her at all. She'd fully expected someone she knew to win her just for fun and to get a free meal out of it. But Tina's excited to meet someone new, so when the bidding is over, she goes to seek out the winning bidder, and Caleb will be approached by a tall girl in a red dress, topped off with a pine crown.

"Uhm, hi, I'm Tina."

Derek Hale | Teen Wolf

[duelo]

arrival & mingling

It's really only the fact that he's volunteered to auction himself off for a good cause that has Derek still coming to the Gala. It's not necessarily that he's still smarting from Jane's rejection, although that's not untrue, so much as it's that he's finally got his own body back and the whole experience of the past week has been exhausting mentally. The last thing he really feels like doing is being surrounded by people and trying to be sociable. He's gotten a lot better at it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't take him effort to get there.

He's dressed for the occasion and walks in after giving his donation with a smile, though, because this is a fundraiser and Derek has seen, first hand, the people here who need their help.

Derek probably won't approach anyone right out of the gate, unless he already knows them, but he also will probably choose an empty table to sit at when he arrives for the dinner portion of the gala, so it's probable that there's space for people to join him.

Later, once he's gotten used to the overwhelming number of heartbeats thudding in his ears and scents sitting thick in the air, he'll be a lot more genuinely happy to be there.

bidding & results

To say that he's pleased with himself to see Diego's date on the offerings for auctions would be an understatement. Smug. Smug is the word that best describes how Derek's feeling about that and it shows very, very clearly on his face. He almost bids a couple of times just to drive up his friend's price tag, but every time he thinks to do so, he sees that it's gone up on his own. Look at that, Diego's doing just fine.

Derek does bid on Ella and Eve — can he help it that they're both incredibly attractive and he's heinously lonely? No, of course he can't — until he can't afford to anymore and then he gives up on the auction without another thought beyond hoping that he brings in a high enough bid to be contributing significantly enough to the cause.

He's pleasantly surprised — and confused — when he sees who won his auction, though. Derek hangs out with Vanya all the time for free, after all. Why would she need to pay $200 to do the same thing they always do? Probably, he thinks is more likely, because she maybe had been bidding on him to be able to donate to the cause in a way that would make her comfortable — how much more comfortable does it get than bidding on someone you already know? — but that she'd been outbid and maybe her brother misunderstood her intentions and was trying to help her out.

Either way, he'll probably be looking for both Hargreeves siblings to thank them. Derek definitely doesn't consider himself to be worth dropping $200 on, but he's glad they seem to think so, in any case. At least for Jeopardy's sake.

mistletoe & drinks

Because Derek can't actually feel the effects of alcohol, he's been drinking plenty. Forever chasing the quick buzz that he can get for about a minute before it wears off, maybe, but more likely because everyone is drinking and the drinks here are sugary and, to be honest, fucking delightful. He's always thought it was kind of stupid to call the fruity cocktails at bars "girly" drinks, considering they have a significantly higher alcohol content than "manly" drinks like Bud Light, but what does he know? He can't feel either of them, anyway.

Derek doesn't exactly go out of his way to avoid the mistletoe he sees hanging all over the place, although he does tend to keep away from them intentionally when he's eating or drinking something for fear of a small piece of the plant falling without him noticing and him accidentally ingesting something that could kill him. He doesn't hang out under them for long, either, though. With the exception of "rescuing" Vanya from a random stranger's kiss — and, okay, great, now he's got the ideas of "Vanya" and "viable candidate for romantic companionship" floating around in the same part of his brain for the first time — he probably won't approach anyone to indulge. He's certainly not against someone approaching him if he's under a sprig of it, though, that's for sure.

wildcard

(( or if you have another idea, by all means, hit him up! you can reach out to me for ooc plotting ahead of time, if you like, on Discord or mistojen

NOTE: mistletoe with Vanya bit approved by Vanya's player. ))

[heartstings]

Shortly after Derek arrives, there's a far too cheerful and energetic Kenzi slipping into a chair next to him with a plate piled high with goodies and a most certainly alcoholic drink. There's a golden headpiece that resembles a smaller version of the one Loki is wearing carefully placed on her head. It certainly doesn't go with the overall pink and silver theme she has going on, but she didn't trust it not to go missing if she left it in coat-check.

"Have you tried these mini sausages? They're sooo good." Her way of greeting as she pops one of said sausages into her mouth.

Given all the pink make-up, done almost mask-like on her face, and the pink wig he might not recognize her from the network.

David Alleyne | Open

[helpdesk_hero]

Mingle

The best part of a party that you don't plan yourself is that it actually feels fun. Or, at least, that is what David believed. He had been too tired at his Thanksgiving-slash-World-Didn't-End festivities the month before to really enjoy it himself. But this? Yes, this was most definitely a shindig he could enjoy. No planning from his part, and he was going to be having some serious fun by means of bidding his paltry offerings to people who needed it. And the food. Oh the food, what a delight it was, in so many ways. David helped himself to the buffet tables with quite a bit of generosity, so it would be easy to find him skirting along them or through the tables, clad in a beautiful and new white suit with a rich blue shirt and paler blue tie. Snow on the darkness of night, with moonlight as an accent, that was the image he thought he was going for, but what mattered was being here, trying to encourage the wealthy fans of imPorts to donate money, and even performing a few 'tricks' for them in compensation. Who, after all, doesn't want to be told that the shawl they were wearing that looked so much like a throw made of hundreds of thousands of snowflakes was made by a woman who was left handed and who had kissed the fabric when she was done, overjoyed at her creation?

No one, that was who. Psychometry could be such a useful party trick.


Auction

There was no way that number was right. David sat down heavily in a chair as he contemplated the number given along with his name. There was no way that he had personally raised that much. He'd expected maybe a hundred. It wasn't until the name that came along with the bid was given that he found himself chuckling warmly. He was definitely going to have to seek out his boyfriend and ask just what he wanted to eat. For anyone else it would have been a lovely small meal. But for Damian, he was going to have to trot out a whole five courses.

But of course his boyfriend hadn't been at his elbow when the numbers came, and David didn't doubt he could find the man later. No, for now he had another goal.

While his intention had been to ultimately put all of his money on his plan involving a certain detective, he had thrown out some bids early in the morning to raise prices on some friends. Only he hadn't expected those to win. So now he was forced to pick through the crowds to see out both Jonas and Cable to figure out if they even intended to make use of the victorious bet. Granted he could always stand to go mini golfing with Jonas. But what in the world was he supposed to do with Cable of all people!?

mingle

[bifroster]

“Hey, David!”

Spotting him, Jane noticed right away that he looked a lot less stressed than he had at the Thanksgiving party, but he didn’t have to plan any of this. He could just enjoy it and have a little bit of fun as well. She totally saw him give a detailed history of someone’s ring, right from when the first atoms got drawn together deep under the earth.

“You look great!”

Tina Belcher | OTA

[continuousgroaning]

Tina had never been keen on Jeopardy. The fact that the entire city had appeared out of nowhere and the world's native residents were thoroughly convinced it was there the entire time has always wigged her out, and so she'd been content to stay away from it. However, the city's residents didn't deserve what had happened to them, and being the soft heart she is, Tina's decided to give herself up for auction and contribute whatever cash she can spare to the relief efforts.

When she arrives, she's dressed in a flowing red gown for Christmas, accompanied by deep red lipstick and eyeshadow, topped off with candy cane-striped hairclips and a crown of pine on her head (that may or may not be a wreath that had accientally fallen on her head, which she wore after deciding she liked the look).

The buffet is her favorite spot, and she pigs out on all the food available, glad she doesn't have to cook for once, then she takes to the dance floor and parties her heart out before attending the auction.

rupert von hentzau

[leatherboots]

[ Here's that Rupert von Hentzau guy, in high spirits and dressed in a luscious velvet suit the colour of oxblood. And, guess what? He's late to his own party, arriving a good hour later in the evening than he technically should. But with no thanks to Hentzau's characteristic nonchalance the gala still manages to be picture perfect and somehow a well-oiled machine. Because if there's anything Rupert von Hentzau knows how to do, it's how to get a large number of people to have a bloody good time. ]

mingling & mistletoe

[ Rupert is in more than just high spirits at this point; he's ebullient, boiling over with good cheer. He makes a point to talk to anyone and everyone - especially the quieter ones and wallflowers, and especially anyone who seems to be avoiding him. Because Rupert does so enjoy the art of mingling thanks to those generations of Ruritanian good breeding. He talks to them regardless of whether they want him to or not - pressing wine into their hands or coaxing them towards the mistletoe if they're willing, full of compliments and laughter. Debonair, charming, and perhaps a little under the influence. Because this is supposed to be a party, after all. ]

drinking & dancing

[ There's an ice sculpture shot luge carved into the shape of a flurry of snowflakes, because of course there is. It's Rupert's favourite thing in the room - Rikki's beautiful glass decorations aside - and gently bullying passers-by into picking their favourite spirit for him to pour through the ice into their waiting mouths is his favourite activity. He'll even pour champagne through the sculpture if asked, which is a frankly TERRIBLE idea, but Hentzau lives to serve.

And when, finally, he gets bored of liquoring up the gala guests he strips off his heavy velvet jacket and makes his way onto the dance floor with his shirt loose at his neck, sleeves rolled up high. Because despite the wintery theme, the dance floor is suitably warm with bodies and an irresistible siren call to Hentzau's good spirits. He'll grab anyone pretty and who looks game - male or female - and pull them into a laughing, twirling embrace in time with the music. Good dancer, bad dancer, it doesn't matter, he'll match his partner's tempo and dance for as long as they'll have him. ]

wildcard

[ come at him, friends. ]

mingling and that other thing!

[biochemastery]

Tyl, somehow, missed that this party was a thing until today. He was busy! Out of the house! Crashing on the floor in his lab, that sort of thing. But a party? Without him? Impossible. He was going.

He stole an outfit from his other job so that he could make his human body look presentable despite the face.

"So, I heard you set this up." He gestures with a glass of something, up towards one of the... plant-danglers hanging from the archway above him. "You'll know what these are, then. Clue me in? All I know is they clash with the rest of the decor." Says the man wearing black in a room full of ethereal white and glass, so he's well-versed in clashing.

😽 (open to all, do with this what you will, etc.)

[catlady]

[ It helps to remind herself that this is good exposure -- it's a good cause to attach her name to and an event like this provides easy content to share with a growing social media following. That's important at this stage of the game. If you happen to follow her, she posts her look for the evening in various stages: the appropriately dramatic, icy makeup look created by her team of stylists; her short, dark hair twisted and curled and carefully pinned; and of course, the pièce de résistance, her gown.

Even her participation in the auction is another show of goodwill designed purely for the exposure. She doesn't bother bidding on anyone and she's more than grateful her own offering goes to someone she knows. (Poor Oliver will never hear the end of her teasing.)

She'll smile for cameras and play nice, but Selina's good at avoiding any actual mingling; she's not known for being especially friendly if you know her and these past couple months have left her feeling far from holly and jolly. She's good at keeping herself busy and even better at excuses to slip away. You might find her at the bar getting appropriately holiday wasted or hiding somewhere outside the venue smoking because nothing deters strangers from bothering you like smoking like a chimney. Sadly, she's less immune to the mistletoe hanging overhead.

At some point early in the evening, once she's made the rounds and done all the fake smiling she can handle, she'll ditch the dress and the party and put on something more her style. She needs the fresh air and, frankly, sometimes it's just easier being something else for a while. It's not like anyone's going to notice she's missing. ]

[the_caped_crusader]

[ they're too alike, really, not to bump into each other at some point during the night. so when selina makes her way outside alone, she'll find as always, as close to a rooftop as the two can be, that bruce is off to the side hugging closer to the shadows, leaning against the balcony with his eyes on the skies. his ginger ale, now that it's not a set piece, sits lonely off to the side.

she doesn't even need to ask him to know what's on his mind-- a part of him wishing that the signal of his above the police station would illuminate the skies any minute now. that he could be leaping across rooftops instead of pretending to be somebody else. ]