Realistic or Modern 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 - main

[dear.szmm]

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  intro

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Me and the Devil

  
  
  
  

  Soap&Skin

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  The Gala.

  
  
  
  

  T

  
  here was a chill about the air. Puddles of murky rainwater scattered the sidewalks; the familiar sound of sirens and agitated queues of traffic swelled from amidst the concrete buildings. It was the Financial District's very own New Years Day, a turning of a page for the accountants and CEOs that had been so closely monitoring their revenue streams. Taxes had been filed, profits calculated; the city could take a deep sigh of relief before thinking about the remaining 364 days to come.
  
  Inside Gotham Hall, a former bank turned premier events venue, attendants were working feverishly to lay tables, count centrepieces, test microphones. ThinkFund's annual gala would welcome over 200 esteemed guests, all gleaned from the upper percentile of American society, to celebrate and thank those who made significant sponsorships, pledges, and donations to the charity's disadvantaged youth program. Amongst them, two of the most infamous of rivals: The Maynards and the Warners.
  
  Seldom did the two warring families have the patience to be in the same room as the other. For tonight, however, ballgowns must be donned, tuxedos ironed, and photo-ready smiles plastered across each of their faces. The question is, how long can they keep it together?
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
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  cast

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  cast.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  shift managers

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  octavia @nova.the.alien
  theodore @sunshineysoul /border]
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  bartenders

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  phil @fieldsofred
  katrina @Limeaid

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  cooks

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  zeke @nova.the.alien
  zahna @TheWeirdPhilosopher

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  servers

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  raelyn @sunshineysoul
  monica Lizy
  florian @too.matcha.a.good.thing

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

intro

cast

A Family Matter

time

Evening

date

01 April 2023

location

Gotham Hall, Midtown NYC

status

closed

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[dear.szmm]

mood :

impatient

location :

Philip's townhouse

outfit :

here

mentions :

Vivienne

interactions :

Vivienne Bellz Liam hery

Maynard

Philip

There was nothing worse than being stuck in a room with people you didn’t like, never mind 200 of them. The level of socialisation required in high society was frankly despicable, and Philip felt only the smallest sense of requirement to take part in the dutiful performance. He felt quite sure that the whole of New York City was one large elaborate stage, and the people with any level of prestige were only playing out some farce directed by the rest of society. It was the way it had to be. And he fucking hated it.

It was nearing half past six in evening as Philip stood in front of the full-length mirror, perfectly polished and set back in a full wall of mahogany wardrobes, his beige silk tie knotted tightly under his collar. He shuffled several small cue cards in his hands, watching his own small movements in the mirror, his chin rising slightly as he regarded his reflection. He looked strong. His face was serious, unwavering. The deep creases in his forehead added a sense of diligence, or so he believed, and the thinning of his hair only emphasised his maturity and wisdom. Perhaps his children didn’t see it that way, but he did. And that was all that mattered.

Philip sighed, shoving the cue cards deep into his trouser pocket, quickly dismissing the thoughts of his family for fear of overcoming himself with annoyance.

“Vivienne?” he called, taking in one last glance of himself before turning to exit the room. Standing in the doorway, he pursed his lips as he waited for a response. Hearing nothing, he called again.

“Vivienne?!” Philip repeated, louder this time, with no subtlety in his impatience, “where is the car?! Eugene should have been here at quarter past. Is no one capable of following simple instructions?”

coded by reveriee.

 

[Bellz]

While Vivienne wasn't one to turn down a perfectly fun party. She got the feeling tonight wasn't going to be all that fun. And the worst part of it was, she couldn't turn it down because it was part of her job description to be there. But, Vivienne Wilder was anything but a complainer, especially when it came to her job. So, after finding the fanciest dress she could afford and getting ready hours before this shindig, she was at Philip Maynard's Townhouse in the city. Her office away from her office, as his executive assistant.

As he was getting ready in the other room, Vivienne was getting the rest of her things ready to go. She had her own purse, which was packed with things that most people didn't think of besides the usual wallet, keys, and two sets of cell phones. Ever prepared, the woman also had a small sewing kit, bobby pins, safety pins, and a small first aid kit. Just in case.

"I think checking it for a third time will do."

She said under her breath, looking through her bag one last time before checking her phone to see if the driver, Eugene, had texted stating that he'd arrived. Nothing. Knowing that Mr. Maynard was most likely already impatient and tense as it was, she bit her painted bottom lip nervously before moving to send out a quick message that said, "What is your ETA?"

As if knowing she was checking in on the ride, Mr. Maynard called her from the other room. Pulling a face, she silently berated herself for not answering on the first go before clearing her throat,

"So sorry, Mr. Maynard!"

Before shuffling ungracefully in her heels as she lifted her black dress to move a little better down the hall to greet him with a breathless smile.

Even with the clear impatience on his face and in his voice, she would always smile when first greeting her boss.

"I just messaged him, but I'll go ahead and give him a call. I understand the traffic to be a bit heavy tonight but there is no excuse for being this late."

Vivienne grabbed her work phone for a moment to make a quick call before walking a little further down the hall. Once the conversation was over, she proceeded to hurry back to Philip,

"Car should be here in about 3 or 4 minutes. As I suspected, traffic was a bit heavy. Anything you need me to grab before we head down?"

location: Philip's Townhome
Interactions: Philip dear.szmm

the assistant

Vivienne Wilder

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  hello

  
  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  
  

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[dear.szmm]

mood :

anticipating

location :

Philip's townhouse

outfit :

here

mentions :

Vivienne

interactions :

Vivienne Bellz Liam hery

Maynard

Philip

Philip paid no mind to the smile Vivienne so frequently shot in his direction. Really, he didn’t understand why she insisted on being so incessantly happy. Perhaps he was paying her too much. She did a decent job, most of the time, or at least had continued to perform adequately enough that Philip hadn’t been tempted to fire her yet. Previous assistants hadn’t lasted nearly as long. Frankly, Philip couldn’t see what could be so difficult about organising a few appointments and coordinating a few cars and helicopters. Surely you just told people what you wanted, and got it done.

He emitted a gruff grumble in acknowledgement as she reported back with Eugene’s response. He pondered for a moment, fetching a cigarette case from his pocket. Slowly, with another sigh, he removed a cigarillo and placed it between his lips, returning the case to his pocket. He watched the end of the little cigar as he brought a gold venetian zippo lighter up to his face, chuffing on the tobacco as it began to smoke.

“Hm, maybe see if you can find my will to live…” he murmured sarcastically, the cigarillo still hanging from his mouth. He chuffed on it once more, the plumes floating and dissipating into the ceiling. “I want your eyes on the Warners tonight, Vivienne, Eleanor especially. Notice the moment that sickly smirk gets wiped from her face. She’s been much too happy with herself since the Times article was published last month.”

Philip had been stewing on the article that had named Eleanor as one of the world’s leading pioneers in the digital age. It made him sick. It also made him a little excited – the higher her ego went, the further it had to fall.

“We’re picking up Liam, as well, from the office,” he added, taking a few steps to begin descending the stairs, “I imagine he’ll insist on being up to speed with the plan. Unfortunately for him, there isn’t much to do. I have my cue cards. Do you have a copy of my speech? Nevermind, that won’t matter anyway. Now, I don’t want Eugene to go too far when we’re there, because if Roxanne has too much and gets loose lipped, she’s out, yes? We’re all on the one table, and Juniper is insisting on being late, but by God if she walks in after fourty-five minutes I’ll tell them to lock her out myself. Good?”

Reaching for the long woollen overcoat that hung from the stand next to the door, Philip placed the cigarillo back in his mouth as he shrugged the jacket over his shoulders. He gave a quick nod to Vivienne, who had followed him down, and opened the front door. Not three metres away, on the edge of the sidewalk, Eugene stood next to the black Bentley, the sopping rain dripping from the front of his cap.

“Evening, Eugene,” Philip greeted, nodding again as Eugene opened the rear passenger door. "There was traffic, hm? Yes, very well..."

Eugene said very little, which is maybe why he was one of Philip’s favourite employees, despite this evening’s small indiscretion. The man was silent, stone-faced, and did what he was asked. Perhaps he would do well in the boardroom. Put him in front of the shareholders and he probably wouldn’t even break a sweat.

As Philip slid into the leather seats and the door closed next to him, he pictured how content his life would be if everyone took after Eugene.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Bearly]

Theo

T

heo checked his reflection in the mirror like elevator doors in front of him. He had spent extra time at the office finalizing a few contracts, so he had to get ready for the gala there. Or at least that’s what he told his wife. Really he had stayed late in the office to allow for him to have a small amount of time to himself before having to be surrounded by the whole Warner clan. While he wasn’t typically bothered by any one Warner, excluding Eleanor of course, the whole group of them together was a different situation. They all seemed to compliment each other in the worst way, at least that's how Theo saw it.

His thoughts were interrupted as the elevator came to a stop at the garage level and the doors opened. Theo took a couple steps out of the elevator and scanned the garage looking for his ride. “Where are you…” he began before spotting a familiar face. “Hey, Carter.”, he said with a smile as he walked up to the driver standing next to the black Mercedes that would be his ride for the night. The man gave him a return greeting as he opened the door for Theo. As Theo slid into the back seat of the car, he heard his wife’s voice. Once inside, he looked to his left and offered a small smile and a nod to her so as not to interrupt her phone conversation. As the car pulled out onto the rainy street, he pulled his own phone out and began going through emails and messages he had ignored earlier.

As he sorted through the messages, Theo’s body stiffened a bit as he read a message from his mother. It was rare for her to message him, as she usually opted to call him. He quickly exited the message hoping that Amelia hadn’t seen it, his mother’s existence a secret to only him. While necessary, the secret often made Theo feel bad. He knew his mother wanted them to be closer and it hurt her not to be a part of his life. He quickly sent her some money, as he often did, with a short message stating that he would call soon. He then leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute trying to stuff the guilt he felt down and rationalize why it had to be this way. Once he felt better, he looked back down at his phone and continued through his message queue.

Theo was surprised by the opening of his car door, as he hadn’t even realized the car had stopped. He quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and slid out of the car. He did a quick glance around as he emerged from the car, taking stock of the few photographers and reporters awaiting arriving guests. Turning back to the car, he offered his hand to Amelia. As she exited the car, he seemed to see her for the first time that night. “You look great,” he offered a smile before looking toward the cameras in front of them, “Let’s go show off!”

Location: Outside Gotham Hall Mentioned: Amelia Tagging: Lizy

Spoiler: for mobile

Theo checked his reflection in the mirror like elevator doors in front of him. He had spent extra time at the office finalizing a few contracts, so he had to get ready for the gala there. Or at least that’s what he told his wife. Really he had stayed late in the office to allow for him to have a small amount of time to himself before having to be surrounded by the whole Warner clan. While he wasn’t typically bothered by any one Warner, excluding Eleanor of course, the whole group of them together was a different situation. They all seemed to compliment each other in the worst way, at least that's how Theo saw it.

His thoughts were interrupted as the elevator came to a stop at the garage level and the doors opened. Theo took a couple steps out of the elevator and scanned the garage looking for his ride. “Where are you…” he began before spotting a familiar face. “Hey, Carter.”, he said with a smile as he walked up to the driver standing next to the black Mercedes that would be his ride for the night. The man gave him a return greeting as he opened the door for Theo. As Theo slid into the back seat of the car, he heard his wife’s voice. Once inside, he looked to his left and offered a small smile and a nod to her so as not to interrupt her phone conversation. As the car pulled out onto the rainy street, he pulled his own phone out and began going through emails and messages he had ignored earlier.

As he sorted through the messages, Theo’s body stiffened a bit as he read a message from his mother. It was rare for her to message him, as she usually opted to call him. He quickly exited the message hoping that Amelia hadn’t seen it, his mother’s existence a secret to only him. While necessary, the secret often made Theo feel bad. He knew his mother wanted them to be closer and it hurt her not to be a part of his life. He quickly sent her some money, as he often did, with a short message stating that he would call soon. He then leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute trying to stuff the guilt he felt down and rationalize why it had to be this way. Once he felt better, he looked back down at his phone and continued through his message queue.

Theo was surprised by the opening of his car door, as he hadn’t even realized the car had stopped. He quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and slid out of the car. He did a quick glance around as he emerged from the car, taking stock of the few photographers and reporters awaiting arriving guests. Turning back to the car, he offered his hand to Amelia. As she exited the car, he seemed to see her for the first time that night. “You look great,” he offered a smile before looking toward the cameras in front of them, “Let’s go show off!”

 

[Steve Jobs]

Roland Maynard

Aunt Roxie's call had been...unexpected. He'd only been in Midtown for two days (having found no home after his father was evicted two years ago) before contacting his uncle for a job. Truthfully, he anticipated rejection, but received an invitation to the gala instead. Roland had an inkling that Roxanne had a hand in the whole affair, but he wasn't going to question an act of charity.

All he had to do was approach Uncle Phil, ask for a job, and not make an ass of himself in front of the entire gala. While the first two would take some courage, he was sure that the last one would be easy. Unlike his father, Roland was too old to get wasted and too self-aware to start thrusting himself into people's personal space.

Roland felt confident about his outfit as most of it had been stolen from his father. His father's silk blazer and navy dress shirt paired well with the black slacks he thrifted in Boston and black oxfords that he won after a two day bidding war. There was no tie to speak of (as most of them were still shoved in his suitcase), but half the denizens of Styleforum assured him that the fabric type was enough to elevate the outfit (the other half raked him over the coals for his bracelet choice).

All that was left was convincing his aunt to loan him a car (well, assuming she owned one). Though he initially planned on driving by himself, the idea of a Honda Civic being in the same lot as a Bentley or Rolls Royce might be unsightly. Plus, he rarely got to drive cool cars anymore.

After a slight bit of traffic, he rolled up to Roxanne's building and shot her a text, hoping that it wouldn't get worse on their way to the gala.

To: Aunt Roxie
From: Roland Maynard

Beep. Beep. Let me in.

the cousin

MOOD: Nervous

LOCATION: Roxanne's penthouse

OUTFIT: Black oxfords paired with black slacks, a navy dress shirt, and a dark, silk blazer

INTERACTIONS: Roxaaaaaaane. Put on the red light.

MENTIONS: All the Maynards

TAGS: 606

TL;DR: ROXIE I WANNA DRIVE YOUR PORSHE!

code by valen t.

 

[mogy]

Rahul Kapir

Abruptly stopping the record in its spin, an unnamed song from an unnamed band came to a halt with Rahul’s finger pushing the small lever that separated the cartridge from the detailed surface. The smooth and jazzy vibrations of the air didn’t linger and the only sounds that could be heard were water falling in the bathroom, and the creaking of Rahul’s new, custom-made leather shoes against the polished flooring of the hallway. With minimalism as the main idea, and the addition of a white and black theme incorporating some dark green undertones, the room was an impressive welcome to any guest that happened to be visiting the Warner-Kapir household. The only people, however, who were in the apartment currently, were the mentioned Warner and Kapir.

And one of them was late.

“Matheus, we’re going to be late! And your mom will disown you.” Rahul yelled, giving his slicked hair one last touch up as he looked at himself in the mirror. Truth was, he never looked at himself in the mirror as often as he did now that he was a to-be Warner. There was a certain level of professionalism required of him—a request only a distinct few could recognize—one of whom Rahul’s fiancé was not.

“And me with you.” He mumbled under his breath, continuing his last statement.

He adjusted his red tie and took his phone out of his right pocket, leaning back onto the firmly attached steel accent table, crossing his feet and facing the bathroom door, waiting for his counterpart to finally get a move on.

husband to-be

MOOD: We are going to be late.

LOCATION: The Warner-Patel Residence

INTERACTIONS: Matheus

TAGS: dear.szmm

TL;DR: Gonna be late.

code by valen t.

 

[sprouhtt]

This has never happened to Evelyn before in her entire life. She was late, and quite frankly she calculated everything out to a T, she was even there two days and the day before the gala was supposed to start to ensure that everything was perfect and that the seating was not going to be a problem. But of course, who can expect feeling sick in the morning before a big event? She thought it was just her nerves and the added stress of the Gala that was getting to her, or it could just be some bad sushi she ate last night, the coloration in the fish did look a bit questionable from the normal selection she usually gets.

But she ate it anyways because at the end of going in and out of meetings, preparing for the Gala, briefing the family; a little discoloration never hurt anybody...so she thought. This Gala was not only shown as a thank you to those who donated to those less fortunate than them, but it was one of the social events of the year to showcase the creme de la creme. It was the night to network and indulge in what one another had to offer. It was especially beneficial to Evelyn that the Warners continue to influence and gain attraction to ensure that they continue to grow a strong foundation and more resources that will surpass the Maynards. To Evelyn, the Maynards weren't just some silly competition of who can be the best of the best; they were also a threat to wellbeing of the business and would stop at nothing to get their mits on what they wish they had.

Evelyn had just about finished up and she didn't have a hair out of place in her bundle of big voluminous curls, nor was there a malfunction on her wardrobe. Nothing could go wrong tonight, but she always prepared for the worst if that did happen. Evelyn began making her way down to where the chauffeur was patiently waiting for her, but who could said patiently since he was tapping his foot. "I know, I know...but who can rush perfection?" She questioned as a smirk revealed on our face before she disappeared into the limo with the red trail of her dress following afterwords. Evelyn had been to these events multiple times, and somehow, she was subconsciously holding onto her stomach due to how queasy she felt. But she couldn't do anything about this since her they had already arrived. Lights, and muffled incoherent conversations were heard as she straightened herself out before the door was opened for her to get this night over with.

 

[606]

MOOD: Just a little bit tipsy

OUTFIT: DRESS ACCESSORIES NAILS SHOES BAG

LOCATION: Her Pent house

two

INTERACTIONS: Roland Maynard

MENTIONS: The Maynards

two

TAGS:
Steve Jobs

two

TL;DR: Roxie letting Roland in after getting ready to head to the gala

two

roxanne maynard

Roxanne loved big events, yet the most annoying thing when it came to going out was having to always look good. While it was effortless at times, other times when it was a slightly more important occasion, such as tonight, Roxanne had to show up. The thing that always made it more difficult for her to dress was that she was a model in the past, and had to keep up appearances on top of working hard, something that many older men her age and above never really had to worry about as much. Most of the day was spent getting ready and being on the phone to make sure promotions were going smoothly, posts about the gala were going up, creating the build-up for what Philip had planned. He was a stone-cold monster in recent years, always way too harsh and mean but it never bothered herself too much. After all, it was nothing compared to the verbal insults their mother would throw at her. Roxanne was a representation of her mother's mistake, one that couldn't be hidden as well if she were a man.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as the hair and makeup team left, leaving Roxanne to do the finishing touches of slipping on her heels, putting on her silver accessories, making sure the needed items were in her bag, then sauntering off to a large mirror in her walk-in closet to get a look. She had asked around to see what Philip was wearing, figuring the two of them should match. That led to the choice of the navy blue satin/silk dress. Yet to continue to show her youth, it was a beautiful off-the-shoulder and high slip dress but she brought some class back into the outfit with a simpler makeup look, minimal accessories, closed-toed black heels a black clutch. This should keep the press quiet about her not looking her best but blending a formal but slightly revealing (dare she say sexy) look that she was always battling to balance.

A buzz from Roxanne's clutch would draw her attention away from the mirror, She pulled out her phone, gently tapping on it as she had her nails (done simply with a nude and some sparkle to be okay for work later as well) and saw it was none other than Roland. Many in the news would comment on her drinking, but it has yet to become a real problem, contrary to many beliefs. However, that doesn't mean she didn't have a 1-2 rather large glasses of a beautiful Merlot someone had gifted her, that she was just now getting around to tasting. She would walk back out into the main room of her penthouse, walking to the entrance to buzz Roland in, after checking the cameras and her face scrunched up for a second.

Picking up the glass of wine from the counter in the kitchen, she would sit down at the island and respond back.

To: Roland M.
From: Roxanne M.

Come in, Phil will have your head on a platter if you drive that thing to the gala. You can pick one of mine.

She sighed heavily and placed her phone on the counter along with the clutch and looked at the glass of wine in her hands. She had taken quite a liking to Roland, he was family after all, and deserved a chance. She had a soft spot for her nieces who came from less-than-ideal backgrounds, as she too struggled with that. However, in Roland's case, it was her brothers' mess and inability to come to some common ground that left Roland to be, outside of the family. Roxanne was too young to do anything about it then, but maybe, she can do something now. She figured, that maybe if the two showed up together it would look good for Roland in the press, but also, she probably was in no state to drive and didn't feel like calling her driver, she dealt with too many workers for the day. Hopefully, this won't be a mistake, putting her cards into helping Roland out.

The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flame inside your soul. Let them think you are weak and do what wolves and fire do best.
Surprise them when they least expect it.

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

mood :

Smug

location :

The Warner-Kapir home

outfit :

here

mentions :

Rahul

interactions :

mogy

Warner

Matheus

Matheus shut the flow of the shower off, looking to the ground as he allowed the water to drip from his mousy hair down his face. He moved slowly, in no rush, and sighed exasperatedly as he stepped onto the green bath rug, his toes curling into the cotton. Next to him stood an evergreen bathtub, hardly used, and opposite that, a long black unit topped with an empty white Carrara marble countertop. On the wall above sat a mirror that stretched to the ceiling, reflecting an unblemished image of Matheus back at himself, the condensation refusing to settle on its surface. He watched as he swept one hand over his head to push the damp hair from his face, tilting his chin to check his jawline. It would do.

He was familiar with Rahul’s impatience. It made him laugh. His own partner tried harder to be a part of his family than he did. Rahul would pull out all the stops, dress the part, say the right things, butter up the right people, and it worked for him – really, it did. For Matheus, the same motivation did not come naturally. Despite that, he was very proud of his fiancé; he was attractive, not just clever but intelligent, and aimed high not only for himself, but for the two of them. Rahul was a breath of fresh air.

After several minutes, Matheus opened the bathroom door, a swathe of steam billowing out ahead of him into the hallway. He was semi-dressed; his white shirt was on, but untucked, and as he exited the bathroom he was peering down at his trousers, his hands fiddling to get them fastened.

“FYI, mom couldn’t disown me,” Matheus smirked, finally shoving his shirt into the top of his waistband, “I’m the handsome one of the family. What do you bring to the table?”

coded by reveriee.

 

[Lizy]

scroll

amelia warner

gotham hall

x

theo

Bearly

Amelia used to dream about events like this gala. When she was younger, the glamour and fun of it was all she saw; now she was less naive. She saw this gala event for what it would be: a busy hellscape filled with hundreds of power-hungry people, including the insufferable Maynards and possibly even worse, her own family.

If Amelia were to say she wasn’t relieved when her husband told her that he’d be staying in the office late to work, she’d be lying. She was glad to have the time alone to prepare herself for the night ahead, which was bound to be exhausting. Putting on the smiles, making introductions, participating in small talk, being around the press—it was always a lot. Sure, she had gotten good at it, but by the end of the night, she would want nothing more than to leave and never attend one of these big events again, and the cycle would repeat itself when the next one came up.

Getting ready took a dreadfully long time—the hair, the makeup, the outfit—to get herself all made up to perfection. But the familiarity of the routine was appreciated. She’d done this time and time again; her ability to make herself look put-together acted as a shield. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t all that put together, but who was, really? Being able to look like she had it all figured out was the next best thing, and Amelia had mastered the art of false perfection.

After getting ready, she swiftly headed out to the car, giving a respectful nod to Carter, the driver, as he opened the door for her. Checking her phone, she noted that she was on course to pick up Theo at the perfect time in order to not be late for the gala. She perused through her emails for a bit, and then, as she neared the office building, her phone buzzed. It was one of her administrative assistants, so she picked it up.

”Hello Carmen. What’s going on?” She didn’t want to chitchat at the moment, so she encouraged the man to get to the point of his call right away. As he explained how someone asked for paperwork she had done earlier that day, but he didn’t know where to find it, she rolled her eyes. ”I put it in the top drawer of my desk, along with the studio contracts from the other day… yeah… yeah.” When Theo slid into the car, she returned his nod of greeting with her own, although her attention was drawn back to her call rather quickly. “Ok, well, did you look under those papers? See? I told you they’d be there. While I have you, would you get a meeting arranged with the California people for next week? Yeah… Oh, yeah, actually, there is one more thing you can do for me. Go pick up some common sense and stick it in your brain by tomorrow. Thank you, Carmen.“ Amelia hung up the phone, not awaiting another response, and continued to check her emails for the remainder of the ride.

When she saw that they were approaching Gotham Hall, she quickly double-checked how she was looking on her phone camera. She was polished—not a hair out of place, not a single makeup smudge. As the car came to a halt and the driver opened the door, she took a deep breath in preparation for the night ahead. She took Theo’s hand as she slid out of the car, smiling at his words. ”So do you,” she returned his compliment. She laughed at his “Let’s go show off!” Not because she was actually amused by his enthusiasm, but because the press enjoyed the image of them being the perfect couple, and her being completely and utterly charmed by him was part of that image.

Don’t get her wrong, she was fond of Theo; he was smart and charming, but she was not in love with him. Their relationship was an exchange of sorts. It went unspoken, but she assumed at this point they both knew it; she got an image boost and likability through being attached to a charming man, and he got access to the doors the Warner name could unlock. They had both gotten good at playing the loving couple, though; it came naturally as breathing at this point. She stood close to him as they walked past reporters and photographers, stopping for pictures and allowing for an arm around her or a pose that showed their closeness. “How was the office?” She asked. Although the press was too distanced to hear them, she didn’t want to be standing in silence; their conversing as if they were actually interested in each other's lives was all part of the image. Theo could tell her anything; he could say that he’d killed ten people, and if they were in public, she’d react in the exact same way—an intrigued smile with a wistful look of love in her eyes. She was eerily good at this deception, at faking an emotion as deep as love; perhaps it was in the Warner blood. If her mother only showing love for her children in front of the press taught her one thing, it was how far manipulating a photo opportunity can get you.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[erzulie]

Lucian M.

LOCATION: gotham hall
OUTFIT: x
INTERACTIONS: npcs
TAGS: n/a

Even after all those years had passed since he had been thrust into the world of the top 1%, he found that he still hated the flashing light of the paparazzi and the collecting voices of people trying to get his attention. But Lucian would be damned if he let it show. As soon as the door to his car had been opened, and he extended a gentlemanly hand out for his date, he had been all charming smiles and adoring eyes. It had been nothing short of a frenzy when Kathryn Chenault had glided from the car, her body adorned in a stunning golden dress that matched her date’s suit. The two of them moved like a well oiled machine, grace and confidence oozing from them as they made their way inside. Lucian could help but feel smug, surely they’d be the talk of the town come morning.

Once inside he looked at his date, his smile more sincere than usual. To him Kathryn was a friend who shared many of the same goals as him. Her drive and love for supporting the downtrodden had made her something of a media darling, while her numerous accolades and the fact that she served on several board of directors let people know just how stunning her mind was. “Kathryn, I want to thank you again for accompanying me tonight. I know how busy you’ve been lately.” He placed a kiss on her hand then, well aware of the eyes on the two of them. They spoke to themselves purposefully, their little smiles and gestures drawing curious glances their way.

Wine country had shaped him in many ways, but he had been forced to adapt when suddenly ripped away from the safety of his home. His rough edges had been smoothed and his speech refined, his ability to work a crowd had grown under the oppressive teachings of the educators Philip had hired. As much as Lucian wished to feel his scalp back, he could at least thank the man for that. With Kathryn on his arm, it was all the more easier to approach the big names that had arrived. Lucian was a marvelous talker and soon had them eating from his hand. A herd of sheep flocked to him and he was their shepard.

“Ah, the pieces that we’re wearing? It was actually made by a scholarship recipient for my organization Dream With Color. It’s a small but steadily growing organization, we focus on individuals who wish to make their mark in the costume design and film wardrobe….yes, it’s a nonprofit organization but we’re always willing to accept donations and patrons.”

code by low fidelity.

 

[Bellz]

Vivienne was sure that Philip was tired of her smile. It was clear by the look on his face that he was tired of a lot of things. But she shrugged it off. Not physically of course, just mentally. It took a lot to be as successful as he was, time, and energy, probably took away from whatever personality the man used to have in his younger years. The smile wasn't for him so much as it was for her, if she just kept smiling through all this madness maybe...just maybe she could pretend that it was all okay. What was she saying? She loved her job. She was fortunate enough to have it. The young woman moved her hand to her long hair, a habit. There she flipped a multicolored strand behind her shoulder, as if flicking the negative thoughts that way just as her boss murmured sarcastically.

The woman raised a brow, repositioning her weight from foot to foot watching the plume of smoke he released from his cigarillo with her eyes briefly before the man spoke further.

"Warner Watch. Perhaps the easiest assignment you've given me so far, sir."

Vivienne said, her face serious, before it broke into a brief smile,

"Maybe I can get it on video for you. Or a picture. Sure she'd agree a picture is worth a thousand or more words. Especially more than that poorly edited Times article."

While Vivienne wasn't the type to be cruel or malicious to anyone. She would do exactly what she set out to do for her job and give it her 110%.

Mr. Maynard began walking towards the stairs, informing her that they would be picking up Liam from the office. Vivienne nodded her head along, when asked if she had a copy of the speech, she was reminded of it in her purse.

"Oh I actually have-"

She was interrupted and she didn't dare speak over him, clamping her mouth shut. If he needed it, later on, she would grab it. If it came into question on the ride over again, Vivienne would let him know she had it. No worries.

In her head she was already making a list...
- Warner Watch - Eleanor specifically during the speech.
- If lovely Roxanne has too much to drink, and is loose-lipped...she's out. A shame. She's fun to be around.
- If Juniper walks in 45 minutes late - she'll be locked out.

Well, this was going to be swell. Was she allowed to have a drink at this thing?

"I'll see to it. You don't have to worry about a thing."

The woman reassured her boss as they reached the bottom of the stairs and the front door. She shrugged on her coat, as it was raining cats and dogs before moving to open the door for Philip.

Eugene was as stone-faced as ever but Vivienne still greeted him with a dimpled smile,

"Evening"

She greeted, before opening her own door to slide into the passenger seat of the Bentley. Once Eugene had slid into the driver seat, Vivienne looked to him,

"Next stop's the office, we're picking up Liam."

location: Philip's Townhome en route to Office
Interactions: Philip dear.szmm
mentions: Liam hery

the assistant

Vivienne Wilder

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[hery]

mood :

living laughing etc

location :

gotham hall - exterior

outfit :

mentions :

dear.szmm Bellz

interactions :

philip, vivienne

Maynard

Liam

Streaks of rain pummeled the door to the Mainline International office building of New York. Oceanic winds had surpassed the metal awning otherwise tasked with shielding the lobby entrance, allowing an unusually wet street entrance to form. Gusts flew freely through the iconic revolving glass door which, much like most things in the colossal structure, was of great significance and importance. The Maynard front door. The famed ninth floor. The central newsroom. The...

Liam Maynard.

Sat cross-legged in an armchair. Shuffling through not one, not two, but six manila folders accumulated through a series of meetings too mundane to discuss as a facet of tonight's small talk.

That's what Liam liked to say. Because "It's a secret" is a great way to make people talk in all the worst ways. So we'll go back to the building.

The first floor of the Mainline International office was a lobby whose decor was akin to that of an old, but well-maintained hotel. There was a level of grandeur and overdone elegance that cleanly squashed whatever pretentious, hyper-modern stylistic choices the Warner's architects and designers thought themselves so clever in implementing.

"Implementing", because the Warners prided themselves on their specialized vernacular. All of it shamelessly plucked from a lexicon of trendy, contemporary buzzwords aimed at peddling the youth of their dying corporation. Half of their staff members couldn't tell their Alt keys from Ctrl, let alone be trusted to explain the computational basis to their own media.

Those poor, miserable people. And Liam had the privilege of enduring their small talk later tonight. God, he could hardly sit still. In his armchair. With his files.

Ruminating.

The arrival of Eugene in the Bentley was a welcome one, as was the umbrella opened for Liam the moment he stepped outside, who was cautious not to slip on his way out. He made for the passenger door, but was quickly reminded of Vivienne's presence tonight. He offered a warm smile and a wave through her window. So she'd made it another week...

Resigning to a seat in the back with his father, Liam first slid his briefcase through the car's black door, then himself, still dry as dust and suited to the brim in cool gray. "Evening, Vivienne," he greeted, a pleasant lift woven into his voice, "Eugene." He gave the two a quick nod, then at last got around to acknowledging him, the other Maynard in the car. The one who would be speaking tonight.

No "hello" was exchanged besides a mute, tight-lipped glance.

"We managed to keep the Hampstead account." Liam began paging through the folders in his briefcase, sliding a stack of paperclipped documents out and dropping them onto Philip's lap. "I'm also going to need you to sign a few things first thing tomorrow." He made a move to light a cigarette, but perhaps Liam would spare the others from taking on the tobacco-laden tang that matched so effortlessly with his cologne.

Liam then flagged Vivienne down through the rearview mirror; this one was for her. "I don't care if there's more to settle with the collarbone incident last week. You get him my things first, promise?" And with another winning smile, that was that.

There was plenty of traffic in midtown thanks to the downpour, but far too little for what there was to discuss. Liam was always pushing it with time, except on the matter of arrivals. That meant any chance alone with him would be one filled with chatter about wants and needs and deadlines approaching their end. And it was always on Liam's time.

Philip's opinion on his son's houndish mouth was no secret, but Liam liked to push things anyway. It brewed resentment in many, but served him well for three decades now.

Liam truly was a dog: savage, forceful, and opportunistic. He had a way of making it easy to give him what he wanted. But of course, a dog hardly knows when to stop eating. They live for the hunt, which is kind of like business politics in New York City if you squint hard enough.

It was a smooth stop outside the equally-famed Gotham Hall. It was then, in all of his corporate yammering, that Liam remembered to assess the situation for the night. Who would he speak to? Which reporters were theirs? Which of his father's plans was he factored into?

"Dad," he started, peering out the window at all the flashing lights, "What are we doing about the Warners tonight? Do you want me to speak as well?"

Better yet: what do you need from me?

The obliging sentiment alone was enough proof of Liam's love.

Stepping out of the vehicle was another story; though Liam was addled by his lack of clarity on the night's agenda, the allure of the press coverage was stronger. He strode around the car to help Philip out himself, faster than he supposed Vivienne would go and all with a huge grin. Sticking a hand in his pocket, he kept his head held high and his best side to the cameras. They commanded Liam's attention, much as he drew in theirs.

But peering down at his father as he stepped outside, Liam's enthusiasm was replaced with seriousness. Learning the younger man's language could have predicted that really, he was giving covert demands.

"Let me help, old man."

coded by reveriee.

 

[mogy]

Rahul Kapir

Looking at Matheus as the man exited the bathroom, Rahul hadn’t dared let him out of his sight despite only briefly and almost nonchalantly peering his view towards his watch twice. There was reason why he was rushing the other man; by the time they got to the gala, Eleanor Warner would already have fired Rahul for being late, and have given both of them a disappointed sigh that she was right to disapprove of their relationship from the get-go.

In the world of Warner family, the only people who were allowed to be fashionably late were those part of the mentioned family, and Rahul hadn’t yet been. Not to mention currently vying for a better and more prominent position in the Warner enterprise—showing up late to an important event such as this was the equivalent of sending in a resume that, in big red letters, said you were irresponsible and unreliable when it came to your own and other people’s time management. Definitely not a good look.

Walking closer to Matheus, Rahul kept a straight face that one couldn’t distinguish to be a certain emotion, however, annoyance and/or playfulness hid in his eyes.

“Well,” Rahul leaned in so his face was mere inches from his counterparts’, “on the one hand, I keep the handsome one from becoming the late one. Because, let’s face it, you would not even go to this if I wasn’t going.”

Leaning in even more, the two’s faces were now an inch, give or take, apart. Rahul could feel the others’ fresh breath on his skin, and he was pretty sure that the other could feel the same. “And, on the other hand, I also make sure that you don’t put the Warner family jewels on display.” With a quick motion, Rahul zipped up Matheus’s zipper, maintaining eye contact with the other.

Then, stepping back, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at something before speaking again. “Our driver is 7 minutes away. Get to it, cowboy.”

husband to-be

MOOD: We are going to be late.

LOCATION: The Warner-Patel Residence

INTERACTIONS: Matheus

TAGS: dear.szmm

TL;DR: Gonna be late.

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

mood :

impatient

location :

Gotham Hall

outfit :

here

mentions :

Vivienne, Liam

interactions :

Vivienne Bellz Liam hery

Maynard

Philip

Philip offered only the slightest downward glance as Liam dropped a small stack of documents into his lap. His mix of emotions towards his son was complex; he admired the tenacity Liam approached business with, whilst despising the overwhelming sense of ego it gave him. Liam didn’t approach his father with the same fear that others experienced, which Philip enjoyed yet hated all at once. Liam was a boundary pusher, a tester. Philip didn’t like to be pushed.

Slowly, eventually, Philip pinched a corner of the paperwork between his fingers and raised it just high enough for him to read the header of the page.

“Mmm. Good. I suppose they took a bit of convincing…” he murmured, his eyes scanning over the rest of the paper. “Very well. Have the papers sent up to me in the morning. Better yet, push it to mid-afternoon. I’m having breakfast with the city council tomorrow.”

Philip loathed local politics but could not argue the benefits of having the Mayor on side. It was the nature of business, to be so entrenched in the policies that were made around them. God forbid the Democrats gained any more popularity – he was fighting a losing battle with the unions that had appeared within some of his companies already. If things kept on their current trajectory, soon he would have a full-blown mutiny in three of his newest acquisitions. He could cut them loose, sell them to the highest bidder before things go too out of hand, but that would be a moral loss. Philip didn’t like to lose.

As the Bentley approached the entrance to Gotham Hall, its impressive columns lit with icy white spotlights, Philip retained a firm frown as his eyes lingered on the swarm of press turning with intrigue to the vehicle. No doubt they were already mustering up tomorrow’s headlines; he knew his own papers already were. Tomorrow, they would be reporting on the triumphant evening that had unfolded, the success of Philip’s latest speech, the boom in Mainline International’s profitability. The gossip columns would delve into the attendees, the outfits, the outbursts. It was beneath him, but it was no less important. The public were fickle, and appearances mattered.

The car came to a stop. Stirred by Liam’s question, and the notion that he must now dance the miserable dance that the evening – and the business – required of him, Philip inhaled a sharp, serious breath. His eyes moved to watch his son exit and round the back of the vehicle, his head remaining level as his son scarpered to his door. Vivienne fell a couple of seconds short. Liam had always known what was expected of him.

As Philip rose from the car, he stood chest to chest with his son, their gazes equal. There was that mix of emotions again; the despise mixed with admiration and a slither of pride. He saw himself in the younger man. That, in itself, caused conflict for him.

“If you want to stand at my side like a lap dog, Liam, then be my guest,” Philip spoke plainly, a wry smile playing on his lips, “but you don’t say anything. In fact, one word out of line tonight, and I’ll be parading out of here with your head on a stick. This is absolutely non-negotiable. If you must taunt the Warners, then do so after I have made my announcement. Contrary to popular belief, there is often nothing more entertaining than kicking a dog when it is down.”

With that, Philip turned, marching up the steps and into the venue, ignoring the cameras lining either side of the path ahead of him. Speaking to the press directly was a poor man’s sport – a desperate attempt to set his own record straight when he lacked the power to get others to do it for him.

He didn’t turn to check, but he assumed his son and his assistant would be two steps behind him. As he strode into the grand hall, lavishly decorated though not to his taste, he scanned the room. A familiar scowl settled on his face.

“Vivienne, who the fuck are these people? I don’t recognise a single one of them. Where are those two from the meetings – Benjamin and … the woman? They’re the ones I’ve been dealing with. And where are the rest of them?” Philip asked, turning to look around him as if the missing people may appear from thin air, “Don’t tell me the only one of my children capable of following a simple instruction is Liam? Jesus Christ. And Roxanne too? Fucking liability. Liam, find our table, won’t you? If they’ve put us anywhere other than the first row then swap some place cards around or something. Use that devious head of yours. Put it to good use.”

coded by reveriee.

 

[Steve Jobs]

Roland Maynard

To: Roland M.
From: Roxanne M.

Come in, Phil will have your head on a platter if you drive that thing to the gala. You can pick one of mine.

Say fucking less.

Roland circled around the parking structure, trying to the find the least expensive of the many, many luxury cars occupying the area. The last thing he wanted to do was get slammed with an insurance claim. Opting to try his luck by a Mercedes, he exited the car with all the giddiness expected of a freshman attending their frat party. Granted the analogy wasn't too different from his current situation, but he now had some affluence to go along with it. Today could be his Nick Carraway moment, complete with befriending the gala's Gatsby.

Before that however, he needed to wheel his aunt to the party. Taking the elevator up to her penthouse, he gave a few solid knocks before she let him in. Aunt Roxie was already dressed to the nines, a clutch in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Like brother, like sister, he supposed as he closed the door behind her.

"You really should be saving your stomach for the party," Roland chided as he picked through the key bowl. BMW, Audi, Mercedes, hell she even had a Ferrari, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Pulling out a black fob, he took a second to appreciate, truly appreciate the crest emblazoned on the plastic. He hadn't driven a Porsche since he and his ex road tripped from Boston to Miami (an idea that turned out to be horrible for the car's longevity) so this would be a hell of a treat. The only thing that could make things better were if the Porsche were...

"Stick shift? Yes!" Roland whispered to himself. He refused the urge to pump his fist in the air, instead settling for closing the door behind his aunt and climbing into the driver's seat.

A Porsche 911 Speedster in black no less.

Despite owning several cars, he never figured Roxie for a car person much less someone who would invest in something so sporty. Five hundred and two horsepower, rear wheel drive, and a six speed transmission had him salivating for the chance to drive Roxie back once the party was over. Not to mention how few of them there were in the world. Did she know what she had her hands on? Or did she buy it on a whim?

Admittedly, he hadn't started out as a car guy; he only began researching them as a means of connecting with his roommate back in the day, but he grew to enjoy the hobby. Reading articles about the latest models, attending car meets, and watching people modify their vehicles allowed him to live vicariously through their experiences. Now that his hand was over the gear shift, he could live his dreams in real time.

Well one of his dreams.

He kept the drive smooth, interspersing vague questions about her life with a bit of an update on his end. His father was in a studio apartment on the lower east side dodging liver disease like an Olympic sport. His mother was last seen attending the Bottega Veneta fashion show in Milan. Roxanne was a CCO now. She'd been forging connections with up and coming stars. Uncle Phil had a secret, third child. Oh, and Aunt Ruth died thirteen years ago.

It brought a bit of silence as he finally rolled up to the entrance of Gotham Hall, a deluge of paparazzi honing in on the Bentley in front of him.

"Please tell me that's all for Uncle Phil," Roland laughed, as he stopped the car. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for his aunt once more. A few wayward photographers seemed to turn their attention to the two of them, causing him to cringe.

"I'll meet you inside. Last thing I want is a picture of me plastered on a magazine."

the cousin

MOOD: Excited as hell

LOCATION: Gotham Hall

OUTFIT: Black oxfords paired with black slacks, a navy dress shirt, and a dark, silk blazer

INTERACTIONS: Aunt Roxie

MENTIONS: Most of the Maynards

TAGS: 606

TL;DR: Keeping Up with the Maynards

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

mood :

Smug

location :

The Warner-Kapir home

outfit :

here

mentions :

Rahul

interactions :

mogy

Warner

Matheus

Matheus pursed his lips together, his eyes rolling dramatically. Rahul was correct. He very much would not be going if his fiancé wasn’t. Unfortunately, he was, and so Matheus could not escape the obligation, no matter how late he made them. Whilst turning to make his way to the bedroom, no doubt to pick up the brown leather brogues he had purchased not two months ago and was already considering replacing despite their sturdiness, Matheus murmured through a smirk, “Well, yeehaw, mister.”

Returning a few minutes later, Matheus watched his reflection as he quickly combed his hair back in the mirror. He didn’t see the point in the evening, or having any part in it. He also knew that Rahul knew he thought this, so there was no point in telling him. He didn’t need another lecture – Rahul had a way of making him feel bad about his lack of interest in the business and the family, and feeling guilty frustrated him. It was only pure chance that he was born a Warner, and yet that miracle meant he was expected to uphold a role he never asked for. He was no better than an actor, or a puppet. He was glad Rahul had found his purpose and his motivation, but Matheus resented the expectations put upon him.

“Would you look at that?” Matheus smirked, throwing his comb onto the countertop amidst a black orchid reed diffuser and a photograph of the two of them during their engagement. “I am ready, we are not late, the world has not ended,” he stated with a hint of sarcasm, turning on the sole of his foot to face his counterpart. “Now, we have approximately two minutes for me to convince you of why you ought to humour me and miss this evening’s event. Number one,” he started, taking a step closer to Rahul and reaching out to fix the man’s collar, “We’re too well dressed for it to be wasted on a charity gala. I propose, instead, we take a table at the new little Argentinian restaurant in Soho…” Matheus cocked an eyebrow, pausing a second before he continued. “Two, Liam Maynard is bound to flounce over to our table, and he is starting to look so much like his father it makes me want to pluck my eyeballs out. I can’t bear to have a conversation about stock prices with him again. Three – don’t answer that-” he said, eyes flicking between Rahul and his phone as it lit up in his hand and rang out, probably the driver announcing his arrival, “Three, no one will notice we’re not there, least of all my mom. And if she does, you can blame it on me. Okay? See it as us reclaiming our evening.”

coded by reveriee.

 

[606]

MOOD: Just a little bit tipsy

OUTFIT: DRESS ACCESSORIES NAILS SHOES BAG

LOCATION: Penthouse > The Gala

two

INTERACTIONS: Roland and Philip

MENTIONS: Liam, Vivienne, Lucian

two

TAGS:
Steve Jobs dear.szmm hery Bellz erzulie

two

TL;DR: Roxie dragging Roland beside her then going to totally not annoy Philip

two

roxanne maynard

As Roxanne waited for Roland to appear, she slowly sipped on her glass, able to pour herself one more small one before the sound of the gentle doorbell pierced the silence, and she got up, opened the door, and threw back the last drop of her glass, walking into the vague kitchen area where she would set down the glass.

“You really should be saving your stomach for the party.”

Roxanne chuckled lightly as she leaned against the large island and watched Roland dig through her key bowl like it was a candy bow. “I will be quite alright. Have to drink more now so it won’t look like I drink so much when we get there.” She said softly, stranding up straight as he picked a key fob and she shook her head lightly then headed out the door, walking usurpingly fast and confidently despite her appearance and wardrobe. Modeling for years does have some perks.

Sitting in the front seat she first of all could tell he was excited, the way he walked to the car, driving it, carefully examining the details of the beautiful Porsche. The story behind getting it was quite a story. Some snobby guy was bragging to her trying to do what she could only assume was trying to get with her, yet Roxanne was not having it. He talked about this car and out of spite, she bought the one he was trying to buy. In the end, it was a very nice car so she wasn’t that upset. Perhaps if he performed well she might gift this,

The car ride was calm, and the update was always nice, at least he spoke well though sometimes he acted less than elegant at times but, it was fixable. Rolling up to the entrance, Roland would witness her closing her eyes, taking deep breaths as the sound of the paparazzi could be heard.

"Please tell me that's all for Uncle Phil.”
“Not just for him, it's for all of us,” she said, opening her eyes as people began to turn to them and she shot Roland a look.

"I'll meet you inside. Last thing I want is a picture of me plastered on a magazine."
“Absolutely not. Walk with me, it’ll look good for you plus I doubt they will be focused on you so much if you beside me.” She said and got out of the car and wasn’t going to take no for an answer, forcefully yet somehow elegantly taking Roland’s arm as a smile quickly appeared on her face, waved to the cameras and began to drag Roland beside her inside.

“I’m betting on you so listen up, show face and sweet talk here and there, and make connections. I will know if you have or haven’t, and if you want Philip to even consider you for anything, do well tonight. If you manage to do well then you can consider that Porshe as good as yours. Understand?” She said in a hushed tone, the smile plastered to her face never fading as she looked around to see who else had arrived thus far. "I'm going to annoy....talk, talk with Philip, have fun!"


She spotted Philip easily who was closely followed by Vivienne and Liam and quickly spotted Lucian as well, the one person who was a direct competitor to Roland at least in the family. Once inside she would let go of Roland and wave him off, then went to approach Philip, the big smile on her face fading as she quickly slipped in beside him.

"Good evening Philly Cheese Steak, you're looking as old as ever. Your poor face is so wrinkled from how moody you are all the time," she said, half teasing half not, care not to speak too loudly, just enough for Philip to hear her.

The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flame inside your soul. Let them think you are weak and do what wolves and fire do best. Surprise them when they least expect it.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

mood :

living laughing etc

location :

gotham hall - interior

outfit :

mentions :

dear.szmm Bellz erzulie

interactions :

philip, vivienne -> lucian

Maynard

Liam

The event was already proving to be more of a sophisticated version of a beauty pageant, so to speak. The cameras have always loved a daring ensemble, and the press hid no evidence of their adoration for their favorite well-to-do names. Not only that, but just about all the attendees had a portfolio of problematic stories at some point broadcast online for the masses to trill over, Liam being no exception.

Internet media outlets had effectively flattened the process of PR; stories were no longer crafted, but showered onto the public abundantly as long as mouths could move. People used to vie for an audience. Now they say it's the fool who drops a dime for one when notoriety is as simple as petty gossip, aired.

But it truly was the ocean of lively chatter that intoxicated Liam, filling his head with a rush of elation that seeped into his puffed, linen chest. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, the arrogantly-smirking heir straightened his tie. If they wanted a story, they could have one.

Liam was quick to attend to his father’s instructions. One of his famously speedy responses followed in an unserious but obedient spirit. "Lima Charlie, Pop."

A finger of Liam's twitched. Usually he was to clap Philip on the shoulder with reassuring eyes, but hesitation instead took rein. "But to clarify, you want *nothing* out of me before the speech? That's the plan?" Irritation burrowed itself into his words, stifled partially by the strategic side of Liam’s subconscious. “Did you mean—“

And Philip was off, his red, nylon path unobstructed as if the man were carrying a ticking bomb. He was not born like this, nor had this been quite so even fifteen years prior. Thus, it was as attainable to Liam as any old title. A title with deep costs and implications, but a tangible reality all the same.

Once inside, the trio was met with another explosion of light and motion and avid goings-on. Circular tables dotted the center of the room, all adorned with table settings and fancy cloth. It seemed the meat of the discourse had already commenced.

"I'll do what I can, but if Aunt Roxie ends up with a chair pulled up beside the bar, it's out of my hands." Not to mention the part of Liam that wanted to kick his sister and her fiancé to the back for more reasons than one...

Raising his brows to the moon upon Roxanne's waggish entrance, Liam made a beeline toward the other end of the venue. Only at the sight of his half-brother's earlier arrival would he stop short, an eye twitching at his own blood's relentless glad-handing.

"If it isn't Thalia Khan!" he chirped, slipping between Lucian and his date to wrap the mogul in a cheerful hug. "It's about time you showed up to one of these. Is Lucian behaving himself tonight? He may be on the come-up, but he's a sharp kid, I tell you. The type a brother needs to keep an eye on." With the strength of two shoulder-claps (since Philip's had been bypassed earlier), Liam gripped the younger man's shoulder and gave it a firm shake.

Of course minding his manners, he extended another hand to Lucian’s date. "And it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Perhaps they'd met before, perhaps they hadn't—regardless, she seemed a mysterious but frustratingly symbiotic figure combined with Lucian's infallible charisma. He knew what he was doing, and that alone was enough to draw Liam's interest.

"It's going to be a big win for all the nonprofits out there tonight. Mainline International has so many efforts to celebrate—it'll be great."

coded by reveriee.

 

[erzulie]

Lucian M.

LOCATION: gotham hall
OUTFIT: x
INTERACTIONS: liam
TAGS: hery

If there was one thing that Lucian prided himself on, it was his ability to conceal how he really felt. The sound of Liam’s voice was grating to his ears, something akin to nails on a chalkboard. He knew that it wouldn’t take long before one of the snakes came slithering over. It was the hand on his shoulder that made him tense. His grip on his wine glass tightened ever so slightly. It was painful to stand there and pretend that the bastard's brotherly affection was anything but a show.

Kathryn, ever the diamond of socializing, was just as polite to Liam as he was to her. It was her presence that relaxed him somewhat, as he remembered his reason for having her on his arm for the evening. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I’m on my best behavior. How could I not be with such an outstanding woman on my arm.” Lucian made a show of taking Kathryn’s hand and placing a polite kiss on the back. “Liam, this is Kathryn Chenaut. To make a long story short. She's an amazing young woman who has spent her time creating numerous mentoring programs and scholarship funds for the welfare of young people. My love date serves on several boards of directors, including The Hospital for Special Surgery, Pratt Institute, and The Studio Museum in Harlem.” Lucian gazed at his date with open affection then. It was sincere, he admired the things she’d accomplished and the things she’d do for his reputation.

Kathryn playfully slapped Lucian’s arm, there was color to her light brown skin. “Please, you’re making me blush. I see the same potential within you. Which is why I plan on becoming an avid supporter of your work. We need more young, open minds in these spaces.” She flashes a smile at the crowd which awarded them with more praise.

Lucian cut his eyes at Liam then. He hid the smugness that he felt by a look of bashful pride. “As cliche as it sounds I’m just looking to make the world a better place. Being taken from Italy was perhaps a blessing, with the Maynard’s I’ve learned to open my eyes and see the bad that surrounds us.”

code by low fidelity.

 

[hery]

mood :

living laughing etc

location :

gotham hall - interior

outfit :

mentions :

erzulie

interactions :

lucian

Maynard

Liam

There was an inherent smugness to every action Liam took. It could be found in his insincere smile, his orchestrated laughter, and the lack of life in his probing eyes. A fierce competition raged between the two brothers, and half the contest was passing it off as pure admiration. Delight, even. But the manner in which Lucian planted a kiss on Kathryn's hand and his overdone gushing assaulted Liam with something bitter and rotten. It stunk of his career's death, to be outshined by Lucian, a man with far too much confidence for his position. This was nothing short of a direct attack, regardless of whether the younger man had meant it as such or not.

"Well, then the pleasure is really all mine, Kathryn," Liam quipped as each organization listed passed in one ear and out the other. Those may have meant something to the people who took stock in whose name ended up where, but not to Liam. The Maynards had a hand dipped in every pot of honey from east to west and north to south. Where could Liam possibly start with the accomplishments he'd purchased for himself?

He took a look back at the crowd, then scanned the room for the nearest location of a gin and tonic. "You make me feel like an old man, now that I'm pushing 32." There was fear in the statement, but Liam played it off with a laugh and shake of the head. "Good thing you're here to keep me with a young mentality" he added humorlessly.

As the pair of brothers met eyes, Liam found a flurry of embers staring back at him over a deep pool of brown. "Much has changed since your trip overseas, hasn't it? In the world, in all of us." Their family's attention, though difficult to discern from a distance, never strayed far from two of their youngest. Liam rarely ever missed a glance. "Right here, right now, we stand at the foot of something greater than all of our control."

Pride melded with Liam's apparent apprehension, overtaking it in a cast of determination. To some, his brazen confidence really did inspire. "I sincerely hope the two of you are looking forward to tonight's announcements. The good you promise to put into the world," Liam preached, pointing a finger toward Lucian and raising it into the air with an open palm, "will travel far with the assets handed to you."

Speaking to Liam was a constant sales pitch, really. The lines between work and his own blood had long been blurred in his adulthood. "It's thanks to your contributions that everyone at Mainline will go home tonight feeling accomplished." And though he was supposed to keep a lid on it, Liam couldn't resist the mention of his favorite set of practical jokes. "And where are the Warners? I hope they've pulled up decent seats."

coded by reveriee.

 

[Steve Jobs]

Roland Maynard

Roland paused when he felt a hand on his wrist.

“Absolutely not. Walk with me, it’ll look good for you plus I doubt they will be focused on you so much if you beside me.”

Before he could respond, Roxie snaked her arm around his elbow, preventing any chance of a stylish escape. He walked in tandem with his aunt,

“I’m betting on you so listen up, show face and sweet talk here and there, and make connections. I will know if you have or haven’t, and if you want Philip to even consider you for anything, do well tonight. If you manage to do well then you can consider that Porshe as good as yours. Understand?”

That shut Roland up real quick.

"Yes Roxie," he whispered, tossing his keys toward the valet. He walked in tandem with his aunt, hiding his discomfort with a sheepish smile each time that the paparazzi flashed their camera.

"Remember, there's no such thing as bad press," he remembered his father saying after a particularly awful incident on the red carpet. It had certainly gotten the people talking about Reese's new line of whiskey, but only insomuch as accusing him of being drunk on his supply.

Once they stepped inside the venue, Roxanne left to find her brother while Roland wandered around, looking someone familiar. Though he had tangential knowledge of everyone, he had to tread carefully lest he accidentally strike a nerve.

Roland headed to the bar, hoping that some liquid courage would assuage his worries. Shame didn't pay the bills (though if his father had shown any, their family wouldn't be in this situation). He took a long sip of his old fashioned before making a dash towards a familiar face in the distance.

Liam hadn't changed a bit since their childhood, save for a haircut and a better change of clothes. There was still a cheekiness to him and as Roland approached the other Maynard, he was still a tiny bit taller.

"Hey Liam! Long time no see!" the blonde waved, definitely not having practiced this scenario during the drive to New York. "It's me, Roland."

He turned over towards Lucian, snapping his fingers and pointing. "And you must be Lucian, right?"

the cousin

MOOD: Looking for a familiar face

LOCATION: Gotham Hall

OUTFIT: Black oxfords paired with black slacks, a navy dress shirt, and a dark, silk blazer

INTERACTIONS: Aunt Roxie

MENTIONS: Most of the Maynards

TAGS: erzulie (Lucian Maynard), hery (Liam Maynard)

TL;DR: Roland gets inside without a Jason Derulo moment

code by valen t.