{[slightly OOC?]} the winds of change ♥

[inspectorjavs]

((note: this is javs's last thread, disguised as a party cel's holding in honor of her own engagement. hehe. erm, it's going to be kind of OOC, I suppose, and more c-box oriented, since fran and phillip and lou and tali and saul and opal don't even know each other in the actual roleplay yet, and I very, very, very selfishly want them to be together in my last thread. ^^;; sorry! so, uh, yeah. anything that happens in this thread won't affect the actual roleplay.

this is The Megapost. be. afraid.))


Situated among the vespertine shadows, Celeste Worthington was a pinpoint of light stabbing the blackness, a small ivory china doll upon a small stone bench. As if mirroring her radiance, the surrounding tables were set with cloths of white linen, upon which glimmered tea lights with flames like tiny fire flies. Music wafted outward from the open doors of the ballroom. She had dictated every minuscule detail of this evening, and it was to be perfect, as immaculate as she strove so hard to be. It would be perfect, she knew. There was no room for error.

And yet upon her plump lips brooded a frown. Her elegant white dress seemed suddenly too pompous for the occasion. Her hair, coiled into a thick, dark mass upon her head, seemed too unsettlingly like a crown that she was going to have to relinquish to another. The engagement ring upon her finger was no longer a proud trophy that she fawned over with friends and blinded adversaries with. Somehow, it had transmogrified into something that gathered her stomach into a knot and placed a lump into her throat and gave her heart wings with which to anxiously barrage her ribcage. Somehow, the attractive life that she had known she would secure for so long was not so appealing.

The lake before her provided a perfect looking glass. “Mirror, mirror,” she muttered, unhappily, her usually dulcet tone hardened and crystallized into something sour.

“Who’s the fairest of them all?” murmured a dusky voice within her ear, serious but unquestionably mocking her. Celeste stiffened and turned her head sharply. Clothed in a rich orchid gown with a neckline scandalous enough to make Cel’s lips curl, Opal—Opium, the pathetic, repulsive girl was named—Opal Waybright grinned back at her, the burnished gold of her hair and skin transforming her into some pagan goddess in the moonlight. Cel lifted her chin half a centimeter, adjusted her posture, and primly settled her skirts around her. She refused to be upstaged at her own party, especially by some common slut raised in the slums.

“I don’t recall inviting you,” said Cel to the lake, refusing even to grant Opal a view of her eyes.

The girl merely laughed, shifting her weight, fingers drumming upon her hip. “I don’t recall asking your permission to attend,” she returned. “You couldn’t keep me out if you wanted to, Your Highness.” As if to prove a point, Opal strutted onward, leaving Cel scowling and fuming upon her perch, her fingers surreptitiously curled about the sides as if longing for something to anchor her to familiarity.

The party hadn’t yet begun, and yet a few vague silhouettes were already visible to Opal’s silver-blue gaze adjusting to the darkness. She made out a fiery red head and an equally red visage, and she grinned as Frances Crawford waved sheepishly back, a chair at her feet. “I tripped over it,” explained the girl as she ducked her head and picked up the chair, a casualty in Fran’s constant maladroit rampage. “This dress is just so long—I didn’t have time to hem it—and the heels of my shoes aren’t high enough and I’m just such an awful klutz, you know? I was looking around for”—and here she smiled and mumbled the name, but Opal correctly inferred by the sudden blush upon Fran’s cheeks whom she was looking for “—and I wasn’t looking where I was going and down it went”—she flung out an arm and waved it at the righted chair—“and down I went!”

An easy, natural giggle frothed from Fran’s throat, and Opal grinned in response and patted the girl’s cheek affectionately. “You should wear a few more skirts, Red,” said Opal wisely. “For padding.”


Fran exploded into laughter and nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a good idea!” she decided, and pantomimed wandering off as if seriously considering investing in several extra petticoats. Opal laughed herself. “After the party, I meant!”

“Oh, right, right, right, I know; I’m just going to go look for”—Fran half-breathed, half-laughed the name over her shoulder, and Opal cupped a hand to her ear as if begging Fran to repeat it, but she declined—“so I’ll see you later, Opal!” Opal rolled her eyes but saluted dutifully; Opal saw Fran consult a chainsmoking, tuxedoed Lou Bishop before he jerked his head in some vague direction and Fran twirled into the night’s embrace.

The tealights flickered and shuddered and jumped in the gentle gusts of wind—winds of change, some could correctly infer, breaths and sighs of alteration that hovered just upon the threshold. Still frozen by the lake, the ice sculpture that was Celeste melted, and she rose to greet the first few arriving partygoers. The day was closing, but the evening was just blooming.

[Ayu]

Lizzie headed calmly over to where Celeste stood, opening her arms. Her words were no more heartfelt than most things she said. "Cel, darling, you look wonderful. This certainly is the only way for someone of your calibre to leave us." With Celeste gone, that put her near enough to touch the top of the Pretty Face leadership, and Misfit or no Misfit, this was her last year. Her last chance. She was going to grab it, currying favour with the soon-to-be-gone Leader of her clique to rack herself up to her rightful place as second in command.

She was honestly sorry to see Celeste go on some levels, though. They had had some good times together, after all. So when she enveloped the other Pretty Face in a huge hug, she wasn't being entirely cynical about it, and the tears that leaked out of her eyes were real.

---

Nico had brought a bottle. Several bottles, actually. After two years in England, he still hadn't picked up the stricter British attitude to drinking, and he saw nothing wrong with a few bottles of fine wine with a meal. In fact, as he set up the drinks table near the ballroom door, he filled up several glasses with the finest claret any man on a soldier's pension and teacher's wages could afford, and hoped against all sensible expectation that at least some of the teenagers would recognise and appreciate it.

He didn't have a suit, nor any intention of ever buying one. What he did have and was wearing, however, unsuitable as it was for serving drinks in, was his old dress uniform. The braided jacket and polished boots he considered smart enough for a party, even if his scarlet trousers were darned in places and his navy blue coat was missing buttons.

It was a real shame, he assumed, since this girl seemed to be popular, that she was leaving. He himself barely knew her, of course, but it must be hard on her on her friends. "Mon Dieu, les problèmes de la jeunesse ne cesse jamais, ne sont-ils?" he muttered to the Chateau 1839, which cast shimmering ruby shadows on the white tablecloth.

Edward, leaning in the shadows of a tree nearby, picked up one of the freshly-poured glasses while Nico wasn't looking and went to 'greet' Celeste, Zuriel dropping lightly onto his shoulder as he passed under the overhanging branch.

---

Abel wasn't actually entirely sure why he was here. He wasn't really a party person and he was about as far from the in cliques as it was possible to be. He was hovering on the outskirts of the party area, unsure where to go or what to, and terrified somebody would glare at him, demand he explain his presence at this cool people's event.

[Tsubasa]

((noting your note, I guess I'll just go with my cbox versions of the characters since there's a big difference in their development and attitude ^^))

Tapping his foot, an irritated scowl crossed Dante Yerami's pale face as he searched around the sodding place more times than he could count. Not only did he hate parties, but he hated parties with people that he did not like, and was sure as hell that they didn't like him back. With a huff, he stood with his arms crossed to the side like the recluse he was, refusing to speak with anyone out of interest. Lifting a hand, he smoothed back his hair in a habit like way while thinking to himself.

Where was Ara, or Dorian, or at least Natalya, the only people who were worth something? The idiots around this place, all laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, all buddy-buddy since everyone knew everyone, it made him sick. Will he ever be able to just sigh and go along with it again like he used to?... Chocolate eyes searched around, staring as a redheaded girl tripped and then laughed like it was something humorous. No, he sighed to himself, no he wouldn't.

"Oh someone, come and bloody save me from this retched place already."

Rolling his eyes, he wondered why he was even here. Oh yes, Ara had told him to come, and if Ara tells him to do something he usually will do it. Joy.

--

Oh the steak, the mashed potatoes, the liver, the cake, the desserts, it was all too good for this hungry-as-hell girl! Feasting upon this site with her sapphire eyes, the Russian thought it'd be best if she herself feasted upon the food as well. Jumping up, she rushed over with a beaming smile on her tan face and grabbed the closest edible thing she could find. Not even stopping to think of what she was doing, she grabbed a fork and literally ate off the serving table, not bothering to get a plate and cut off a piece. Chomping down, it made her realize that times like these were the best -- parties. The glorious food of parties made it all worthwhile. Wreaking havoc was fun too, don't get her wrong, but food comes first before all... Even her boyfriend.

Grasping the pitcher of lemonade with her now greasy fingers, Sapphire lifted it above her mouth and downed the whole thing in one go. Wiping her mouth, the Newbie didn't even realize the stares and horrified gasps of the people around her... And if she did, well, she probably didn't comprehend that it was for her. Captured in her own bliss, her eyes darted to a moving figure near the trees. Gulping down whatever she was eating, Sapphire waved her hand in the air, which also was in the midst of holding a chicken leg.

"OY! Edward Boy!!! See here, food so be great!!!"

--

Smiling to himself, the Welsh Jew walked around whilst winking at all the pretty girls that were now giggling to themselves and their friends. What a great thing parties were, they had everything a normal man could hope for. Music, Girls, and Alcohol. Or at least, everything Damion could hope for. Finding the nearest chair, he seated himself to take a break from all the tiring flirting that he had done, stretching a bit also. Then, a thought came to him, who's party was this for again? Somehow he could not place his finger on it, but that mattered not. As long as it was a party, and he wasn't responsible for anything, who cared? Grinning, he let himself relax a bit while also scanning the area for any new hotties who had happened to come in. Yeah, life was good.

[inspectorjavs]

((all of my posts are going to be Megaposts, apparently. e______e))
The first to approach her, quite fittingly, was a fellow Face—one of many identically awful girls that Celeste stood on tip-toe above, knowing somewhere deep down that there was a constant mutiny brewing around her, always in danger of being usurped. She laughed and tittered and gossiped and giggled with the Faces, bestowing upon them only the shallowest of her secrets, and kept everything else locked away within her. She trusted only one of them. Lizzie was not that person. Secretly, Celeste harbored no good will toward her—her preference for other girls was simply unnatural, and to Cel, quite revolting. However, as Lizzie opened her arms, Cel smiled and stepped carefully into them.

“Hello, dear,” she said smoothly into Lizzie’s ear, but her stiff façade was momentarily shaken when she felt warm tears against her cheek. She, Celeste Worthington, one of the most feared and loathed people in Florence, was going to be missed? Something shifted within her—surprise? gratitude? warmth? nostalgia?—and made her hug Lizzie a bit more tightly, almost sinking against her for the merest millisecond, as if her anchor to monarchy had disappeared, rendering them equals, friends. She entertained the notion of being missed, and, more outrageously, missing others. The moment passed, however, and Celeste tittered lightly as if amused, not saddened, and she said almost teasingly, “Not too big a hug, darling, or we shall muss our hair.” Schooling her rebellious lips into a smile, she then retreated a step or so, surveyed Lizzie’s visage with a critical eye, withdrew a handkerchief from an unknown location by some innate gentlewomanly magic, and dabbed it beneath Lizzie’s eye. “Oh, it is, isn’t it?” she conceded half-breathlessly to Lizzie’s last statement, not returning the compliment, smiling as if delighted with the prospect of her marriage. “I would never dream of leaving any other way. I do hope that you all shall be as lucky to secure a man such as my Jonathon.”
As her emerald gaze swung momentarily from Lizzie’s, surveying those in attendance, a frown creased her lips before being replaced by half a smirk. She took Lizzie’s arm in proper Face fashion and raised her chin at the approaching Edward Granz. “Call the priests,” she murmured to Lizzie in disgust. “It appears we’ll be needing an exorcism.”

Opal, shunning chairs and sitting quite comfortably upon a tabletop, had also noticed Edward; she blew him and his constant capuchin companion a mocking kiss. Like Cel’s, her eyes were tracing a path around the party, creating constellations as she linked people like stars. Dante Yerami—ooh. Quite handsome. Quite taken. Did she care? Of course not. However, she allowed her eyes to linger upon him for only a second before they continued. Llewelyn Bishop; she blew him a kiss, too, and received a scowl and a ring of smoke in response. Sapphire Something-Or-Another, Opal had never found out, was descending in relish upon the food, and Opal grinned at her in approval. Damion Serange. Ooh. Quite handsome… Quite taken? That information was of no importance to her, and Opal smiled not at all innocently at him before sudden movement to her right ensnared her attention.

A golden hand reached out and deftly took a glass of claret from the table beside hers, and Opal took a sip, considered it, and shrugged. “C’est interessant,” she said to the teacher, and grinned. To her “mother’s” dismay, Opal never became quite fluent in French, but her accent was passable and her vocabulary wide enough to satisfy her. She took another sip, looked up, and patted the open space beside her on the table when Fran, looking rather dismal, approached again, proceeding very sedately as to avoid any further embarrassment. Fran, however, smiled and shook her head and sat carefully in a chair. “No Phillip?” Opal inquired, and Fran turned pink but shook her head. “No Sigismund either,” mused Opal into her wine glass. “Men. Unreliable beasts.” At Fran's questioning sideways glance (Opal offered her her wine glass but Fran shook her head vehemently), Opal laughed. "But we love them anyway, I suppose."

[Ayu]

Lizzie inwardly cursed her weakness. She didn't really care much for the ice queen, did she? But her tears told her a different story. Forcing a smile, she nodded. "Of course, it would be ridiculously naive to expect all of us to find somebody quite that perfect. But I'm sure some of us shall manage it." The implication might be that some of us in this case meant me, but in fact Lizzie had never been less sure of a good marriage than she was now, having met Clyde.

Following Celeste's gaze, she wrinkled her nose distastefully. "He's rather repulsive, isn't he? Couldn't he be banned? He's quite ruining the party."

---

Edward glanced back at Sapphire and laughed lowly. "So I see. I'm sure you're enjoying yourself greatly." Under his greasy hair, his dark eyes shone orange-red in the leaping candlelight as he drew closer to Celeste, leaning on a tree not far away from her.

"Oh my darling little girl, do you really think that any exorcist could drive me off?" On his shoulder, the monkey leapt up and down with mocking-sounding screeches. He drew a little closer, until he was only a few steps away, and held out a closed fist. "I must say, it's been quite the pleasure to work with you, your highness. Such a shame that you're leaving us. Perhaps I may drop around your house someday, hmmm?" With a light chuckle, he opened his hand to show a scrunched-up ball of paper. "Your leaving gift, ma'am."

---

Mei dashed over to Sapphire's side, munching on a chicken leg. Nobody would ever know how she had found the party, how she had got in or why she wanted to come, but one thing was for sure. Nobody would make her leave until she was ready.

"IS BEING MUCH GOOD FOOD, SAPPHIRE-NAI! IS BEING ALKIHOL ALSO!" She held up a near-empty wineglass, beaming. "IS GOOD, NO?" Her voice rarely dropped below a harmful level, especially since she was more than a little tipsy already.

---

Nico shook his head with a slight lopsided smile on his lips. Honestly, he thought affectionately, looking over the children. They're all so very young, aren't they? His attention was drawn momentarily to Opal, and he nodded. "Tres bien. Le vin est un millésime, très cher, vous savez?"

"Kate, you must never drink until everybody else has a drink, you know," he said in accent-laced English, projecting his voice rather than shouting. "Be disciplined." He plucked a bottle from under the table and held it out. "Don't drink it all, oui?"

---

Rosie skipped over to Damion, holding a glass of wine, and sat down next to him. "Hello! Mind if I sit here?" She looked out across the floor wistfully and said mostly to herself, "Isn't Celeste lucky, finding somebody to marry? I wish I found somebody to marry. But I don't think so. Oh well." Smiling, she took a sip of wine. "Sorry, I feel like I know you. What was your name again?"

[Poe]

"Oh, Shawn, really, must you?"
"Come now, Cis, I had to sneak him in. And I think he looks great in my uniform."
"It doesn't fit, Shawn."
"It looks fine, doesn't it, Bryce?"
"It's... a little tight." Was Bryce Sander's reply.
"Hah!" Cicily crowed. "See I told you." She walked in with two arms around her, each belonging to Bryce and Shawn. She hardly cared what anyone said.
"But what if Natalya is here?!"
There was a stony silence in which Cicily smacked Shawn hard in the stomach, glanced at Bryce and then drifted away from to two go help herself to a drink and mingle.
"Behave, Cis!" Shawn called after her as she walked away.

Behave? Oh, posh. I'll be on my best behavior. I just can't help the face that I want that witch gone, out of my school. Poof! No one, really, will be able to beat me after her. Especially if I could survive her.
Yes, Cicily was always a bit afraid of Cel, but never enough to cower before her. She rolled her eyes slightly, waving over her shoulder at Shawn, who she heard chuckle, before she was swallowed by the large crowd.

Cicily Stone's hair was piled up onto the top of her head in tame curls, a few fell down around her face, and she had on paint that she hadn't worn in awhile so her lips were light pink, the scent of rose water wafted behind her as she waltzed through the crowd, wondering how quickly it would take her to get kicked out by the bride-to-be, Celeste Worthington.
She had to admit, it would be sad... not having Cel here to torture with spiders. A smile curled onto her lips as she pulled a carefully wrapped jewelry box out of an inner pocket in the skirts of her elaborate honey gold and forest green dress. Pearls dripped off her neck and she felt like she was glittering as she twirled over to Cel and Lizze.
"Why Cel!" She called, promptly ignoring Lizzie for the moment. She spread her arms wide, as if expecting a hug, though she was sure that she would be promptly ignored. "You must be so excited. You know I would be too, if only I was so lucky." She sent a coy smile her enemy's way. "It will be so upsetting not having you in the halls once you are gone."

She hated all this fake nonsense. All this fluff and silly stuff that wasn't true and really meant nothing to her. Brushing a lone curl out of her eyes she quickly remembered the present, wrapped in silver paper. "I thought I'd get you a little something-something," she said. "I'm just going to miss you so much, and I don't want you to forget me..." Plus, she could resist frightening Celeste out of her wits one more fabulous time.
Why would she be frightening the girl?
Oh, well, because tucked away inside the jewelry box was a beautiful necklace of precious stones... and set into the largest one- the centerpiece- was a (crystal) black spider of medium size. It just seemed so perfect.
"I do hope you'll like it," Cicily added. "My mother and I had it hand made just for you."

She, herself, had it done in the Realms. By herself. And it was gorgeous, even with that frightening thing inside it.


Bryce sighed as he watched Cicily walk away, and swallowed hard as Shawn tugged him through the room, he followed his curly-haired friend as he greeted fellow faces and then all the ladies that he swooned over so much it made Bryce sick. Bryce was introduced to each and every girl, and some stared at him as if they knew who he was- a gyp- and others hooked their arms into his and offered to tell him stories, or asked to hear them. Bryce's eyes, of course, were swinging around the room for Tali, whom he was sure would be here. She had friends here, right? So why shouldn't she?
Every time he thought he glimpsed her his heart pounded slightly. He had to remember that the girls at his arms were expecting reactions from him, which he would give, when the thought occurred to him.

Shawn watched his new friend with a slightly sad gaze, and then looked around the room as well, picking up a glass that was being passed around on trays. Not sure what it was, he took a swig, and was surprised to find champagne. Only the best for Ms Worthington, hm?
Speaking of her, where was the devil girl?

His gaze left Bryce, who was looking around the room as well, and searched for the dark haired woman who was about to be a Mrs.
Ah.
There she was.
Cicily moved quickly, didn't she?

"Bryce!" Shawn called, quickly coming to kidnap him. "Ladies, I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow your friend for a moment." They sighed, but as soon as they were detached from Mr. Sander's arms, Shawn started to tug him toward an easier spot to witness Cicily's encounter with her enemy.
"What in the world do you want?" Bryce mumbled, looking around.
"Look, Cicily's trying to give her the present. If she opens it now we'll be able to see Cel's reaction. And you know how entertaining that'll be."
A slight smirk curled onto Bryce's face. "Oh. This'll be good."

~~~

Salem slunk in a little while later, actually in a soft golden dress, her hair down, the neck line plunging. Around her neck was simple gold chip with her initials on a gold chain. She looked around, picking up a glass of whatever that stuff was, simply to hold it, to have something gin her hands. She floated around the room, looking for someone to talk to.

There.

Dante.

"Really, this doesn't seem like your type of scene," she observed, watching Mei, a fellow misfit, dart around the room like an idiot. Well. A cute idiot. Where was Clyde to take care of the punk, really? Salem stood slightly next to her... target, her victim, waiting for a reply.

"And it isn't, you know I'm right," Salem added, a slight gleam in her eye. "So what are you doing here? Come for the drinks? The food? The fun? Or are you just whipped?" Much like Cicily, Salem Thatchor tended to enjoy to get under people's skin. She knew Cel well from back when she was a floater, you could even say that they had been friends, but she decided to not approach the girl unless she approached her first.
Lifting the glass to her lips, Salem took a slight sip. As hard as she tried, she wasn't very lady-like.

[javs is a lazy bum]

Celeste’s smile was as nearly as forced as Lizzie’s; during the course of the evening, her delicate cheeks would proceed to ache and she would often be seen discreetly rubbing her jaw. Her powder-pink lips were not made for smiling. No--her entire doll-like face was not constructed for smiling. It could smirk, it could frown, it could simper, it could sneer, it could appear perfectly innocent and angelic or scarlet with rage, but smiling… Not quite. Sometimes. Not often.

Cel did not believe one whit that any of them would secure a husband as perfect as her own. “Of course you will,” she lied through her teeth. Then, more truthfully—“Well, one of you might. Certainly not all of you. Some of the Faces will be lucky to marry at all.” And by ‘some’, of course she meant Lizzie, but of course she did not bluntly utter such a horrendous statement. She allowed it to be coolly implied, and then her plastic smile was placed back on.

Her attention returned to Edward. “More like very repulsive,” she corrected Lizzie. She arced a brow and nodded once at the idea. “Of course he’ll be banned. He wasn’t even invited.” The nerve, she thought sourly. In fact, it appeared that a great deal of her ‘guests’ had issued their own invitations. The Waybright slut, the demon, the little martial-arts girl who was shouting at an ear-piercing volume, more, and more, and more…

And her.[/] Celeste’s nostrils flared slightly, and she set her jaw. Cicily Jaden Stone, complete with a duo of members of her awful entourage. Before she could banish the girl from her party with an imperious point of her finger, the demon boy was speaking. Cel could not deny that he appeared almost darkly wraithlike in the low lighting, but she merely raised her chin and pursed her lips and froze back into her ice-sculpture-self. She tensed and frowned when he stepped closer but did not retreat. “The Headmistress could if the priests couldn’t,” she assured him coldly. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of him being within a ten-mile radius of her home. “More likely would be a house dropping on you.” At the piece of paper in his hand, Celeste frowned at Lizzie, then back at Edward. “You’re too kind,” she stated flatly. Then, suspiciously, not taking it from him, “What is it, pray tell?”

Cel’s tone segued effortlessly into honey-dipped, sugar-coated, cavity-inducing cadences as Cicily approached her. “Miss Stone! How positively tremendous it is to see you appear, uninvited, unannounced, at my party with your”—she eyed Shawn and Bryce pointedly”—multiple boyfriends. That isn’t very virtuous of you.” She smiled, horribly, and flapped her hand slightly at the invitation for a fond embrace. “Oh, how upsetting it must be for you to know that no man will ever want to wed a cow such as yourself,” she cooed in sympathy. With as much distrust as she had regarded Edward’s gift with, she glanced at the box in Cicily’s hand. “Oh, darling, how kind of you,” she trilled, a hand to her heart, “but I regret that it would be terribly rude of me to open my gifts in front of everyone. If you would give it to darling Elizabeth here, I’m sure she would present it to me later to open at my own discretion.” She smiled and assured her crisply, “You’ll receive a thank-you note.”

Opal took another sip of the wine and smiled at Nico’s remark. “Je ne suis pas surprise,” she replied, truthfully. The claret’s flavor was of the richness that cheap alcohol could never achieve. She smiled suddenly, abandoning French for English. “Why in God’s name are you serving such good wine at such a horrible party?” She titled her head, considering. “Well, I suppose it’s a good party, since it means she’s leaving us.” Fran could not bring herself to agree—that was rather cruel—but she did nod slightly and giggle at Opal’s comment.

[Ayu]

"I'm sure she could try. But I doubt that she will." The Headmistress had done a lot of ill-advised things in her youth. It had taken a lot of digging for Edward to find the details, but it was more than worth it for the amount of power it had given him. "Don't fool yourself, little princess. You may think you have power, but honestly, if I so desired, I could destroy you like that."

He snapped his fingers and laughed. "But my oh my, this is such very morbid conversation for such a happy occasion. Take your present, do. I shan't tell you what it is. Where would be the fun in that? Presents should be a surprise! And I shall be very upset if you are going to be all suspicious of my well-intentioned gift." He made a pass with the handful of crumpled paper, passing it within a hair's width of the pretty girl's face just to watch her reaction.

It wasn't really anything bad. Really. It could be taken as a threat or a gesture of goodwill, depending on how you looked at it. Goodwill because he had carefully removed every page (and there were a lot) on Celeste from his moleskin notebook, a condensed version of which was in his hand now. Threatening, because anyone who knew Edward would know that everything on that paper was stored in his head as well. His notebook was just an aide memoire. So it could just as easily be a list of 'Things I Know About You That You Want To Keep Secret'.

---

The Scot's lip curled distastefully at Cicily's arrival. "What a lot of uninvited scum seems to have arrived. Shall I arrange for them to be removed, Cel?" Suddenly, oddly, she felt a pang of...remorse? Guilt?...for her disdain. Maybe it was seeing Clyde's clique-mates wandering. Loathing this odd switch in feelings, she pushed it to the back of her mind and turned the patented Crosby sneer to Cicily, wordlessly offering a hand for the present.

---

"Ah," the Frenchman replied with a chuckle, pouring himself a larger glass than those he had poured the children. "That is hardly a kind sentiment for one of your own dear classmates, non?" Nico had always been one of the popular kids at school, and anyway his natural predisposition was to think the best of everyone.

He sipped the crimson wine and held it up to the light thoughtfully. "You like it? It has always been my feeling that it is some kind of minor sin to serve inferior wine given half a choice. And after all, this is one of the big student gatherings, when you think about it. When better to offer a good wine than when the most people can enjoy it?"

[Yuki]

Dorian still wasn't quite sure what he was doing here.

Honestly, knowing Celeste, he was sure that she wouldn't want him to be there either. Then again, it was almost out of respect that he came to the party, at least to bid the Queen Bee adieu. Besides, at least Dante was going to be there, so it wasn't like he'd be alone. He refused to talk to anyone that he normally wouldn't, like a Suck-up, or a Brain, or her.

She wasn't going to be there though, was she?

And yet she was. Along with those other two--the Gyp and Shawn, how marvelous. Wouldn't Celeste just adore that? Pah, that little group would probably be kicked out soon enough if 'Her Highness' had anything to say about it. Straightening out his tuxedo just a bit, the Handsome Eye looked around for Dante and quickly was able to spot him. But with that Misfit. Dorian didn't remember her name, knowing that she wasn't that important a person.
Then why was Dante speaking to her?

Instead of merely going over to ask why, Dorian simply wandered around the party, partially waiting for the girl to get away from Dante, and partially wanting to see who would be there to say their final farewells to the princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A light laugh, a flick of the hand, and a twinkle in his eye, the Italian was pleased to just be at the silly party. Although he wasn't flirting with students (gasp!) or torturing some kids with history questions (gasp!), he sure did manage to accomplish one thing.
Demetrio Bevoretti was basically drunk.

With the wine that some students and a 'certain teacher' had to offer, he could hardly resist. Sadly, Demetrio wasn't all that great in holding the alcohol in, thus giving him this happy feeling. Whenever he did have too much to drink, he was a bit out of himself, not attempting to get into the male student's pants or being the teacher he should be. Instead, he was a very carefree fellow, yet you could barely tell he was drunk unless you heard his slurring words, and he constantly giggled. A lot.

Terrible role model, no?

Nonetheless, he didn't care quite frankly, walking over to one of the students and grinned slightly. He had recognized the boy... Abel was his name, right? Yeah, that had to be it. "Mm, faaaaaaaaaaaaaaabulous party, no?" A giggle emitted from the pale lips as he tried to keep his composure, which he surprisingly did.

At least for now.

~~~~~~~~~~

((ARIEL'S REPLY WILL COME EVENTUALLY I JUST DON'T WANNA TYPE IT))


ooc;; i love cicily, i really do, just Dorian doesn't. D:

[Tsubasa]

(f**k, okay, so like, i wrote this whole bunch of stuff, and then something happened and everything god deleted. DXXXX I am highly unamused. So you better appreciate this post. Anyway, noting that Javs isn't here anymore, I shall have Dante leave her character to talk to someone else. Ah Javs....D: oh and ps im at school while writing this. xD)\



Scowling, the black hair boy stiffened as he felt another find a place next to him. Turning around, he found the perpitrator to be a misfit, and so he sighed and kept that everlasting scowl plastered on. 'Oh great, now I have to start a conversation? Just brilliant.'

"You are right there, this isn't my type of scene at all. But then again, since when did I have one?"

He attempted at a small smile, but it failed into a sneer. Frowning, he turned back to his scowl as he found this more suiting -- and easier to pull off. Sighing once more, he turned away from her direction and stared into the crowd.

"Free food? Free drinks? Things like that hold no appeal to me. I find it disgusting to eat things that other people who you have no aquaintance with prepared. But then again, that's just me."

Looking down at his non-existant pocket watch, as if checking the time, he mumbled to himself in a mutter that was barely heard. 'Where is she?'... Turning back to her, he tried to make this chat shorten a bit.

"Look, why am I explaining myself to you? Get lost."

With that he stood up, caught a glimpse of Dorian, and smiled.

"Finally."

-----



In the midst of gnawing on the oh so tasty leg of chicken, the Russian girl blinked and spun to the side as she heard her name spoken. Upon seeing that it was none other than her slightly...tipsy chinese friend/proclaimed daughter, she smiled till the grin reached her ears and jumped.

"Ooooh! Good daughter bring alkohalz! This of being feast now! WOOH!"

Seeing that the glass was half empty, Sapphire was in demand for some of that intoxicating liquid herself.

"Where be you getting that there alkohalz?!"

She could almost taste it now...Licking her lips she grinned. This party was beginning to rock.

----

Just as he was about to get up and try and find some chicks to hit on, it seemed like God was spoiling him since one just happened to waltz right over to him. Smiling, while inwardly jumping for joy, he put a hand through his brown locks and winked at the pretty girl.

"Well now, I don't mind at all. I love sitting next to a pretty girl like yourself."

He chuckled and then listened on to what she was saying. Ah marriage...He always believed in marrying some pretty bitch and making a lot of money then settling down. That wasn't really the case anymore. Damion wasn't the one to believe in love or relationships, he just was fond of either friends with benefits or one-night stands. Suddenly this marriage idea was slowly diminishing...

"No, I don't think I'll ever get married either. Oh, and the names Damion Serange. What might be yours miss? I hate to not remember the name of any darling girl in this school."

Oh but he did know her name, he just played that trick with every girl. He knew just about all the names of every good-looking girl in this school. If he didn't, then he wouldn't be doing his job right. Really, this boy should've been in the Love Struck some people thought. But no, he was too roudy and tiough for them.