maskormenacelogs | Winter Gala

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Crow-head cane. Crow head cane. These are the words repeating themselves on a loop in Rupert's head as he zones in on the man standing by the wall, crow-headed cane in hand. It's an unmissable detail, even in all the colour and light and movement of the gala. The wine had been a prop, an excuse, and at the young man's refusal Hentzau seems entirely unfazed. He merely shrugs, obviously unconcerned, and sips at the glass of wine for himself as he eyes Kaz with obvious interest.

"We are yet to be introduced, aren't we?" He asks, his German accent obvious in the long, twisting vowels. He smiles a glittering smile. "I never forget a face, and yours is entirely unknown to me."

Which is something of a half-truth, considering Victor's words.

"I don't get around much." That's only half a lie. Kaz appreciates going unnoticed in most circles and being well-known in others. His voice is rough, stone on stone, and, if he has an accent of any kind, someone might be inclined to call it vaguely Dutch.

Kaz doesn't forget faces either, and the fact that he hasn't managed to chase this one off yet with the near palpable chill rolling off him makes him wonder what his new companion wants.

Well, there's no reason not to stand on ceremony. Yet.

"Kaz Brekker."

"Of course," Hentzau replies with obvious pleasure, glad as he is to be proven correct about Victor's tip-off. And as with Victor he makes the same mistake; he extends a hand to shake, all breezy friendliness, and introduces himself.

"Rupert von Hentzau," he declares with a grin. "At your service."

Rupert von Hentzau looks utterly delighted to meet him and that is not a first impression that Kaz is used to. He considers the hand offered to him and is tempted to ignore it. He didn't offer his own for a reason. After a long, pointed stare and enough time that most people would consider the silence awkward, he relents and accepts the hand held to him in a brief shake. He is quick to let go and bristling at the imposition the whole time.

Incidents like this are one of the many that make the gloves necessary. Business is still business, and while most things can be concluded with formal agreements, just as often they require a handshake or something equally familiar. Kaz would prefer not. But he is on good behavior.

"I wouldn't go offering your service to me. You never know where you might end up."

Edited 2019-12-28 22:48 (UTC)

"That's mostly why I offer my services to anyone at all," Hentzau brightly admits, shaking Kaz's hand with an enthusiasm that doesn't seem like it's going to be reciprocated any time soon. But if Hentzau let himself be brushed off by everyone who didn't immediately like him then he'd never get anywhere at all; he smiles blithely in the face of Kaz's discomfort.

"Wherever I end up tonight it won't be any worse than I've already been, I assure you."

The bright, easy smile should be disarming; Kaz wonders if his new acquaintance is dense or if this is a personality choice. Smile in the face of dark looks. It makes him think of Jesper.

"That sounds like a challenge." A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, the line delivered with the kind of dry humor that might catch fire spontaneously. "And where have you been that you believe it can't get worse?"

Hentzau grins in relish at that.

"Oh, what an excellent question..."

The stories he could tell of his adventures! Slightly horrifying ones, the kind that wouldn't cast Hentzau is the prettiest light. But Hentzau does so enjoy talking about himself... He opens his mouth as if to start a sordid tale, but changes his mind at the last minute with a brief shake of his head.

"Ask me again in a month's time," He says instead. "Perhaps I will know by then if you're the type who'll enjoy my tale."

Kaz rolls his dark eyes and plucks his drink up off a nearby table. The amber color suggests whiskey or brandy of some kind.

"Why should I invest my time in a story that I might not get?" he asks, light enough to be conversational. "I don't chase dead ends."

Not if he can help it, anyway, but that doesn't mean he hasn't found himself staring at a blank space with no where left to move and no ideas on how to get out of it. Nina saved them all from that. His hand tightens briefly on the crow beneath his palm.

"What do I get for following up on this sordid tale of yours?"

Alright. He's curious. But he's not ready to bite just yet. With all the sharpness in Kaz Brekker, one has to wonder why anyone would want him to bite at all.

"I don't know, I might prove an entertaining way to pass half an hour or so," Hentzau replies breezily, grinning with shameless delight. Sordid, yes, he likes that assessment. There's a lot of fun to be had with a sordid tale or two. He shrugs candidly.

"It's a challenge, isn't it? Perhaps you'll have to tell me where you've been. We'll compare notes."

"Me? Gutters, canals, dark alleyways. Gambling dens and brothels. Fine homes and a foreign court. All the worst places."

Kaz adjusts his weight, taking pressure off the leg nearest the cane. Being at this little gala makes his fingers itch; there are so many damn pigeons and all of them are getting drunk on wine or their own egos and most of them aren't paying attention to their jewelry or their pockets. Maybe he'll see what he can get away with before the end of the night. Just to see what breed of pigeons he's working with.

Winter Gala

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