Fantasy The Reach | IC

[elytra]

The Reach
Current Heist #: Pending...

Introduction
​

The Crossroads wasn't exactly the most pleasant bar, but it certainly wasn't the worst place to find yourself.

Its exterior was worn from time, but obviously well taken care of. The neon sign still glowed softly, only flickering now and again, and the windows were well washed so you could see the interior, crowded with people. The boards creaked when you stepped on them, but that happened with age. It was likely one of the nicer establishments in the Reach, considering the other bars were either just a touch above 'suspicious' or were visibly disgusting. The upside of them was that they were cheap, but that was about the only pro. The Crossroads, at least, was passable, seeming to have more respect for the comfort of its patrons.

Despite all its comforts, though, it was also the sort of place that attracted many criminal types.

A lot of people- particularly from Empyrea -assumed that the Reach as a whole was full of filth, of the people sort and the regular sort. The truth was, the Reach was like any other place, where people did what they had to do to get by. Not everyone was a criminal, but then again, not everyone had a choice. In Empyrea, people had security. In the Reach, people had trouble getting by pay check to paycheck. So, not everyone was a criminal. It was just that the Crossroads happened to attract quite a few.

It was likely because when discussing jobs, benefactors wanted somewhere comfortable to talk, and the staff tended not to snitch. It was an unspoken rule that people kept their business to themselves and that others kept their noses out of it. If you wanted to keep drinking in peace, it was best to ignore the hushed whispers. These rules were why the establishment did so well. Most of the tables were full with a variety of different patrons. The only one not filled, sitting in the corner of the room and overlooked, was table 4. It appeared that no one had arrived at it yet, and anyone who attempted to take a seat there was quickly shooed away by one of the waiters and waitresses under that excuse that it was reserved.

Other than being watched over by the staff, it was rather unassuming, with its only other peculiarity being the extra chairs placed around it. It appeared that whoever had reserved it hadn't shown their face yet.

 

[wendy]

Angelina Chernov | The Cross Roads bar | In the mood to steal a Rolex

"What is this cryptic bullshit?" Angelina said to herself reading through the letter that had been posted through her post box during her absence. "Fucking kids." Angelina muttered to herself as the kids who lived in the apartment opposite her loved to play pranks on her. The only reason she tolerated them was because their mother was rather loose lipped and had revealed to Angelina that she had inherited some very valuable pieces of jewellery from her deceased mother. Unlocking her apartment door she threw the letter on her kitchen counter paying it no further attention, she was much more interested in finding out the value of her scores of the day. "Cuban Chain solid gold bracelet, let's see how much you're worth." She spoke pulling the bracelet out of the top pocket of her uniform along with a expensive looking ring she'd managed to slide of some granny's finger. She smiled falling back onto her couch placing the ring on her finger and admiring the gem stone in the light. "Let's see whose gonna make me more money?" Angelina smiled pulling the enchanted monocle out from her bra (she found that it was the safest place to keep it). She inspected the bracelet first and when she saw the market value a large smile creeped onto her face "God, I'm so talented." Angelina says placing the bracelet and and moving the ring within her eyeline. The people living in Angelina's apartment block must of heard the scream of terror and frustration as the young women ripped the ring off her finger like it was going to poison her "Fake? A fucking fake!" She screamed as she launched the ring straight out of an open window. "Stupid fucking bitch." Angelina swore at the Granny "Wearing fake diamonds? Disgusting." Angelina spoke placing the monocle safely back into her bra. "But at least I have you. You'll make me lots of money." Angelina says to the Cuban link bracelet that sat on her coffee table.

After a little more admiring of her loot of the day Angelina got up from her couch and walked to the other side of her studio where she found herself in the kitchen. She picked up a half open packet of cigarettes and lit one, the nicotine rush immediately calmed her but as she smoked she picked up the letter that she'd abandoned on the counter, giving it a proper read through there was one sentence that caught her eye "The job pays well." this was what solidified the decision that Angelina was going to be at the Cross Roads Bar in a few days to see what this job was all about.

A few days passed and tonight was the night of the Cross Roads meeting. Angelina had swapped to the morning shift so that she had enough time to meet this person who would be giving her lots of money. "Hopefully it's a sugar daddy." Angelina says lying on her couch looking at the letter "Or an old man I can marry and then wait for to die." She sighs thinking how that would be the best way to get her out of her current situation. Just in case it was an older man who wished to pay her ridiculous amounts of money for a 'companion' she decided to dressed up for the occasion. Her closet was a major difference to her small studio, it was filled with luxury designs from 6 seasons back, it hurt Angelina not to wear the latest designs but it would have to do for the moment "Old men like tight and short." Angelina spoke to herself as she browsed through her clothes until she saw the dress, the dress that she'd lost her virginity in and it was very why. This dress was bought for her on her 16th birthday and that night she lost her virginity to George Yule, the heir some other business conglomerate, the dress was much more of a squeeze to fit into now then she remembered as Angelina curves filled out the dress a lot better now than on her 16th birthday. She slipped her feet into the matching heels before sitting down at her small dressing table she applied a thin layer of make up because she was already so gorgeous. She left her hair as it was perfect the way it was and finally the young women locked up her small studio apartment and headed down the 4 flights of stairs where she hailed a cab which took no less then a few seconds as Angelina looked gorgeous. "Cross Roads." were the only words she spoke to the cab driver as he nodded and took off into the rush hour traffic.

It didn't take long for the cab to reach the bar, Angelina paid him with a smile which he seemed more than happy with and she got out the cab and walked in with extreme confidence. "Good Evening Miss." The Host spoke. Angelina didn't offer a greeting "I've been invited to table four." She says as the host's eyes widened slightly "Right away Ma'am." The host spoke leading the way to table 4 in the corner. It was most disappointing to see that there was multiple chairs around this table 'I suppose it won't be a sugar daddy then' she moaned inside her head as she took her seat in the booth. "Mojito." She told the host who simply nodded and left. "Who on earth am I waiting for?" Angelina says pulling out another cigarette from her bag, she didn't like feeling out of control and so the nicotine soothed her with each drag of the cigarette she took. ​

 

[Wandering Owl]

Kai Quinn Fowler

the inside man

Kai had gotten the letter a few days before the meeting was scheduled. They told themselves to sleep on it, to think things over before they committed - but they knew what their answer was. They’d known from the second they read it. There was no way they’d let themselves back out of this, not without spending the rest of their life thinking about what it could have been. Even if they quit after 30 seconds, they had to try. As the days rolled slowly by, Sunday coming closer and closer, they could feel the excitement building inside them. They were getting distracted (well, even more than usual), almost slipping up a few times at work, but they didn’t really care.

Sunday rolled around, after what felt like an age. Kai debated over outfits for a while, and ended up picking out something a little smarter than they’d normally go for. They didn’t know what to expect from this, after all, and looking good rarely had drawbacks when meeting new people. Especially if it was going to be other “masters of their craft”, like the letter said. Whatever that meant. Considering they were meeting in the Crossroads, they didn't exactly expect it to be totally respectable.

They arrived just a little before 1pm, figuring they’d have a bit of room to scope out whatever they were getting themselves into. Kai did their best to stay calm and confident on the surface, despite the adrenaline sparking through their system. It was excitement, far more than fear. At worst, this was a public place, and they had a lot of experience getting out of dodgy situations. At best… who knew what this could mean. They avoided the more prominent figures in the bar, in favor of finding a friendly-looking waitress as she passed. They’d never known someone who worked that kind of position and hadn't picked up a whole host of rumors and hearsay. If you want to find out something, you start from the ground up. Still, despite their best efforts, they didn't manage to get anything of interest from the girl, other than a point towards the table in the corner and a hurried excuse to leave. Maybe it was just the way this place worked, maybe it was the instruction of whoever had booked the table. Whatever the reason was, something told Kai that they wouldn't get much information until they met this “Q” in person. There wasn’t much else to do, so they made their way over to the table, slipping through the busy room with practiced ease.

They noted the extra chairs, more out of the corner of their eye - so they're expecting a big group, huh - but most of their attention focused on the woman already sitting there. She was pretty, enough that it was the first thing that struck them. Looked like a richer type than the Reach was used to, as well. Kai wondered briefly whether this was a big enough project to bring in people from the city- but, they only really had a moment to take her in before they'd be staring, so they couldn't really follow that thought through. Instead, they took a seat next to her, resting an arm over the back of the booth, careful to keep it casual.

“Hey.” A smile, as though they'd just happened to meet instead of being in a top secret mission shrouded in mystery. “Good to know I’m not the only one who showed up.”

the Crossroads bar

excited

outfit

wendy

coded by natasha.

 

[Zerulu]

Juan Abasolo | The Cross Roads Bar
Interactions: Angelina ( wendy ) Kai ( Wandering Owl )
​

Another dollar another dime, Juan muttered to himself as he brought the mail in, placing it on his kitchen top as he went to turn the stove on to start making his coffee. It had been a pretty relaxed day all things considered, in fact it had been a relatively slow and relaxed week, hell, month even. However, all of that was gonna change when he opened the unmarked letter. He sat down on his sofa and turned on the television, just his luck that the new episode of Desperate Housewives Empyrea, quickly flicking through the channels before he found something that was half decent, he ended up settling on Surviour: The Isle. Anyway, it was time to open his mail, first up, the unmarked letter.

He grabbed his letter opener and peeled the top off, he would never get over the satisfaction of using one of those tools, so simple yet so luxury. As he set the tool aside he unfolded the piece of paper and started to skim the letter, the contents were, troubling, so much so that he had to re-read it in full this time. Juan was in disbelief for a while, maybe this was some clever marketing scheme, some advertisement for this Cross Roads Bar. However, some simple detective work would find that this establishment didn't have the capabilities to launch such a campaign, this letter was genuine. He was hereby formally invited to a heist team. He had watched some heist shows before, most notably, 'Now You See Us,' but he never saw someone in his profession in those movies. Some more pondering and Juan had finally come to terms with it, an Architect, especially of his skill level as the letter clearly states, would be an invaluable member of a heist team.

Some time had passed and the day of the first official meet-up specified in the letter had rolled around, Juan was looking forward to this day, looking forward to meeting the rest of the crew. He put on an aqua button up short sleeved shirt he forgot he had, some jeans, his aviators and out the door he was. The drive was rather uneventful, though he did get to have a feel for the environment he would be working in, a few muggings here and there, yep, this was The Reach alright. He pulled his out-of-place car into the parking lot of the Bar and made his way inside, the decor of the building was less then desirable, but it was what he had to work in.

Signalling a waitress Juan made his presence known, "Table 4, wheres that?" his tone was less then impressed, "Just over there, sir." The waitress directed her to a table in the corner of the establishment that had a bit too many chairs around it, and it seems two people had already beat him here, "Thank you, also, I'll have a Gin and Dubonnet." He made and order as he took a seat at the table, he thought of introducing himself by name but he decided against it, "The Architect." He scanned the two ladies up and down, "I assume you two have also gotten a certain letter?" He tried acting discrete, though to be fair a poker face and acting was never his strong suit.

 

[Pepsionne]

Vivienne Kline|The Crossroads Bar | Mood: Prim and Excited

Spoiler

Vivienne's Outfit

Vivienne stood in front of The Crossroads, looking up at the neon sign as it flickered weakly against the afternoon sky. She swallowed down a bit of her jittering nerves, anxious to get some answers or even just a taste of excitement from this mysterious Q person. Ever since she had first discovered the cryptic letter, promising her the fulfillment of her potential and the opportunity to play a role in the resuscitation of magic, Vivenne hadn’t been able to keep still. The promise of getting close to the magic she had always dreamed about had sent her into a chaotic frenzy, unable to sleep, eat, exist in the same way she had been before. The several days of enduring work and idle chatter was excruciating enough. If this mysterious letter was a hoax set up by some criminal, Vivienne clenched her jaw at the thought, she’d be righteously pissed.

She glanced to the side at a passerby who looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. Vivienne’s lips curled into a slight scowl at the sight. The entire journey over here, she had asked her taxi to park several blocks away in fear of being followed, had been filled with shocked double glances and blatant stares. Not that Vivienne should be so surprised. The blonde was dressed in a matching jacket and mini skirt combo; its black and white cow printed fabric well pressed and clean. She wore large oval sunglasses with thick black frames to obscure her expression. From the top of her stark white beret down to her white socks and black ankle strapped heels, Vivenne screamed the status and wealth of an old money Empyrea elite. Not to mention her sense of fashion was already eccentric enough in taste to garner stares in a wealthier environment.

Vivienne upturned her chin and walked forward to the bar, pressing on the heavy door. It opened with an old, groaning creak. The heavy scent of spilled liquor and cigarette smoke greeted her as she entered the dimly lit space, which she couldn’t help but scrunch her nose at. She turned to the hostess and stood patiently for the woman to address her.

The waitress glanced over at her quickly while flipping through papers, her gaze getting stuck longer than she had expected at the sight of such an interesting patron. She set down what she was doing slowly and turned her full attention towards Vivienne.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The hostess’s tone was tentative, as if she was unsure if this person even could be helped with anything inside the establishment.

“I’m expected,” Vivienne stated politely. “A party at table 4.”

The hostess’s face jumped from confusion into a startled expression, but at this point, Vivienne had grown used to it. She followed the hostess to a table cluttered with chairs in the distance. She clutched her small black purse in anticipation. It looked like she was going to be one of the first few to arrive.

As they approached, Vivienne caught sight of an attractive young woman sitting at the table with a cold drink in front of her, condensation already dripping down the sides. She held a lit cigarette in her hand, the smoke curling up freely into the air. Her expression seemed aggravated and aggressive. To the side of her there was another person, an older man, who was impatiently sitting at the table with a drink in his hand as well. It seemed as though he was trying to come across as nonchalant, but she could tell that something was off with him; his expression cracked with his true feeling too easily. She looked over at the last person who was sitting at the table, no drink in front of them unlike the others. They were calm and collected but actually looked happy to be there, like this was some meet up of old high school friends.

Vivienne gave each of them a polite nod before she sat down, taking her sunglasses off gently before placing them in her purse. The black leather bag closed with a crisp snap. Her eyes wandered awkwardly around the table before she decided to flag down a waitress. If everyone else was drinking, hell, why couldn’t she as well?

“I’ll take a vodka tonic with lime please,” Vivienne smiled to the waitress. “Oh–and can you please make sure that it’s with top shelf liquor please? The best you have. Anything lower gives me a headache.”

The waitress walked away with a mocking expression on her face, but Vivienne seemed unfazed. She looked forward at the three surrounding the table already and folded her hands together with an innocent smile.

 

[Danidify]

ANN HANSEN | THE GETAWAY DRIVER
Mood: Curious | Thinking about: Money​

Odd, questionable, ridiculous, downright idiotic, perhaps even batshit crazy, there were plenty words to describe this letter. Anyone in their right mind could see the shadiness oozing from this little inquiry, yet Ann still found herself on the back of her motorcycle, headed straight for the named location.

It wasn’t much of a question that this reckless act was pretty damn stupid, but Ann’s curiosity didn’t think so. Truth be told, she couldn’t care less about all the detective-movie grade mystery writing, instead focusing on the two hidden meanings she had swiftly uncovered; money and excitement.

The Crossroads wasn’t an unfamiliar name for Ann. In fact, she’d consider herself a regular given the amount of times she had gotten absolutely hammered there. A single gaze was enough to realize that this place was pretty much garbage. When compared to the other bars, however, Crossroads was the shiny fake necklace among McDonalds leftovers and used diapers.

Just as she tried to make her way into the Crossroads, Ann was lucky enough to find herself behind someone who really wasn’t dressed for the occasion. Seeing no way to swiftly weasel herself past this Mean Girls character, Ann impatiently waited for her to start walking only to find out they actually had the same destination.

Catching onto a confused glance of the hostess, - whom, by the way, was a familiar face for Ann - the smuggler held a chuckle as she mouthed ‘I know!’.

While she trailed after the excessively clothed.. lady, Ann couldn’t help but feel the clash of style. Here she was, walking around in a bland black jacket over a worn out white t-shirt, soggy sweatpants practically reaching over her shoes, tailing some rich kid in a f*cking cow print.

On her way to the ‘party’, Ann got briefly caught up in the crowd, only to hurriedly make her way to the table when she saw a waitress right about to walk away.

“Hey, wait up!” She called out, lightly grabbing the waitress’s shoulder, causing her to turn around.

The waitress’s puzzled expression swiftly changed to a more relaxed state, giving the now smiling ‘getaway driver’ a patient glare.

“Back so soon?” Was the first the woman replied, hinting at the fact that they were familiar.

Ann chuckled, a cheeky smile still on her face. “Don’t worry, I’m not drinking. Just some business.”

“Oh really now? That’s new.” The woman jabbed, her response causing the recipient to vividly roll her eyes.

“Ha Ha, very funny. Just get me a coke, Nance.” Ann would reply, emphasizing the fake laughter with a particularly sassy tone.

The conversation ended with a nod from both parties, and Ann finally turned her attention to the famous table 4.

Scanning the table, the seasoned criminal wasn’t really sure what she was looking at. The first thing she noticed was that it seemed that Missy Mean Girls had some competition. Devil Wears Prada was sitting right at the same table, after all, and her outfit wasn’t exactly easy to miss either. The other two, well, one of them probably mistook this for the parent-teacher conference, while the other was most certainly lost as well.

“Nice.” Ann exclaimed as she stood at the edge of the table, eyes trailing past everyone that was seated.

“This is Q’s little ‘meeting’, yeah?” She would add, pulling back a chair to take a seat as far away she could from the two barbie dolls.

TAGS: Pepsionne Zerulu wendy elytra Wandering Owl​

Spoiler: MOBILE FRIENDLY

Odd, questionable, ridiculous, downright idiotic, perhaps even batshit crazy, there were plenty words to describe this letter. Anyone in their right mind could see the shadiness oozing from this little inquiry, yet Ann still found herself on the back of her motorcycle, headed straight for the named location.

It wasn’t much of a question that this reckless act was pretty damn stupid, but Ann’s curiosity didn’t think so. Truth be told, she couldn’t care less about all the detective-movie grade mystery writing, instead focusing on the two hidden meanings she had swiftly uncovered; money and excitement.

The Crossroads wasn’t an unfamiliar name for Ann. In fact, she’d consider herself a regular given the amount of times she had gotten absolutely hammered there. A single gaze was enough to realize that this place was pretty much garbage. When compared to the other bars, however, Crossroads was the shiny fake necklace among McDonalds leftovers and used diapers.

Just as she tried to make her way into the Crossroads, Ann was lucky enough to find herself behind someone who really wasn’t dressed for the occasion. Seeing no way to swiftly weasel herself past this Mean Girls character, Ann impatiently waited for her to start walking only to find out they actually had the same destination.

Catching onto a confused glance of the hostess, - whom, by the way, was a familiar face for Ann - the smuggler held a chuckle as she mouthed ‘I know!’.

While she trailed after the excessively clothed.. lady, Ann couldn’t help but feel the clash of style. Here she was, walking around in a bland black jacket over a worn out white t-shirt, soggy sweatpants practically reaching over her shoes, all the while tailing some rich kid in a f*cking cow print.

On her way to the ‘party’, Ann got briefly caught up in the crowd, only to hurriedly make her way to the table when she saw a waitress right about to walk away.

“Hey, wait up!” She called out, lightly grabbing the waitress’s shoulder, causing her to turn around.

The waitress’s puzzled expression swiftly changed to a more relaxed state, giving the now smiling ‘getaway driver’ a patient glare.

“Back so soon?” Was the first the woman replied, hinting at the fact that they were familiar.

Ann chuckled, a cheeky smile still on her face. “Don’t worry, I’m not drinking. Just some business.”

“Oh really now? That’s new.” The woman jabbed, her response causing the recipient to vividly roll her eyes.

“Ha Ha, very funny. Just get me a coke, Nance.” Ann would reply, emphasizing the fake laughter with a particularly sassy tone.

The conversation ended with a nod from both parties, and Ann finally turned her attention to the famous table 4.

Scanning the table, the seasoned criminal wasn’t really sure what she was looking at. The first thing she noticed was that it seemed that Missy Mean Girls had some competition. Devil Wears Prada was sitting right at the same table, after all, and her outfit wasn’t exactly easy to miss either. The other two, well, one of them probably mistook this for the parent-teacher conference, while the other was most certainly lost as well.

“Nice.” Ann exclaimed as she stood at the edge of the table, eyes trailing past everyone that was seated.

“This is Q’s little ‘meeting’, yeah?” She would add, pulling back a chair to take a seat as far away she could from the two barbie dolls.

 

[silentthunder]

"it's all about the theatrics, honey."

Aviva stood posed in front of her large mirror that was perched on the far side from her grand bed. The dull light of her chandelier didn’t help to fix her makeup, but fortunately the lights surrounding her lavish mirror did. It reflected a woman who wore a lavish silk black dress clinging to her curves with intense smoky eyes: the ideal outfit for a fancy party. That was precisely where Aviva had intended to spend her night. As an individual who loves fancy parties, Aviva was always on the lookout to dress up, and today was her lucky day. A posh man by the name of Mr. Rushmore was hosting an epic party just beyond the Reach where Aviva lived.
The party was supposed to have incredible food and expensive wine, which was just what Aviva needed after reading the letter that arrived a few days earlier.
The letter had called her skills for a mission that included some illegal aspects. She had fidgeted with it for some time before discarding it on her nightstand, where it now stared her down even as she applied the last of her dark red lipstick. According to the letter there was supposed to be a meeting at the Crossroads and Aviva had done the most to forget about it, but the offer had kept nagging her. She was constantly reminded of it as she drew her runes.
Maybe it was the opportunity that changed her mind, but that night, instead of turning right to the party, she had veered left sharply while cursing under her breath, and she had headed to the bar on the Crossroads. The soft music, which played quietly, didn’t put her mind to ease as she pulled up and parked her car in a parking spot which had fading white lines depicting the state of the bar.
As Aviva’s heel clicked against the cracked pavement, and as she saw the flickering purple and blue hues of the sign, she realized she had been here once. Sighing, and in a regretful sort of way, Aviva shut the car door behind her to head into the bar. She could see the people though the windows. Aviva wondered who could be waiting for her. Checking her phone, she realized she was late. A sense of hesitation fogged her brain, but if she was here, she should at least see what was waiting inside for her. So, Aviva opened up the wooden door. A waitress approached to guide her to a table.
“Are you a party of one or are you here for someone?” the waitress clicked out.
Aviva let her eyes glance around the crowded bar. Some people had tall glasses of alcohol sitting in front of them, while the rest were huddled up around their tables to discuss business. She figured she would be the latter very soon. “Table four. Take me to table four,” she said curtly.
The waitress scowled, but led her to the table, where a strange group of individuals were situated. Aviva thought she was overdressed to grab a drink at this bar, but it seemed the party had some others who were also dressed up. Sliding into a chair, she clicked the table with her long manicured nails.
“How are you guys?”

aviva

LOCATION: Crossroad's bar

OUTFIT: Black silk dress

MOOD: hesitant

 

[Dovinique]

CHARACTER SHEET
OUTFIT
INTERACTION Everyone
MENTION None
​

Emi had been staring at the worn-out letter, possibly from being crumpled repeatedly, on the table long enough that it almost gave her headache. Her mind was battling between taking the new exciting challenges or avoiding the likely prank letters. The worst thing was she couldn't tell Sam anything about it, leaving her alone to make the decision. The clock kept ticking endlessly, ignoring the troubled girl. Today was the day she should come to The Crossroads to meet this "Q" person. At first, she was so excited to learn more about the offer, she just couldn't wait for Sunday to come. She woke up early, cooked a delicious full breakfast, wrapped herself in pleasant clothes, but as soon as she had her car keys on her hands, a strong hesitation struck her.

"Damn it!" She took the letter and shoved it to her bag before finally rushed out.

The Crossroads wasn't too far from her residence, but it felt like one of the longest trip she ever made. Emi parked close enough to the bar, just in case she had to make an escape if anything went wrong. Emi was welcomed with a warm greeting from the waitress who then asked if she already had a reservation.

"Well, I..." her eyes wandered, trying to find Table 4, she wanted to check out who was waiting for her on that table, "...actually waiting for my friends' confirmation. If I'm not mistaken... Table 4? Which one is Table 4? Just wanna make sure that it's my friends' table," she finished her words with an awkward smile painted on her face. The waitress raised her brows suspiciously but pointed out Table 4 anyway.

There, Emi could find several people sitting... nothing fishy about them so far, probably got the same letter just like her. The first thing popped up in her mind was she probably dressing up a little bit too formal compared to others. Another thing she thought was it was safe to say that at least this wasn't some kind of attempted kidnapping. She was confident to say that her healthy organs were extremely expensive, just saying. Looking back to the waitress, Emi smiled, "Yes, they're my friends, Table 4 it is."

As the waitress escorting her to the table, Emi took the chances to slip a pen from the front desk to ease her nervousness. Her tendency to steal was higher when she was agitated and if the urge was neglected, it would give her uncomfortable nausea and vertigo. Arriving at the table, Emi unconsciously put her fingers over her nose, cigarette smoke was the last thing she wanted to smell. However, knowing that she might seem impolite, she put away her fingers and tried to breathe with her mouth.

When asked for her order, Emi only mouthed the word "Water". Talking while breathing with mouth wasn't an easy task to do, but Emi tried her best. Pulling her lips upward, she took one of the seats and looked at the group before whispering a small "Hi".

 

[elytra]

alexei wagner

online

Alexei
mood
outfit
location
tag

• 000001
• 000001
• 000001
• 000001
• 000001

• blank
• close
  
  
  
  mood

  
  

  Laughs Nervously What the Fuck?
• close
  
  
  
  outfit

  
  

  A worn t-shirt, jeans, and his beanie; currently rocking cat graphic socks and not ashamed of it.
• close
  
  
  
  location

  The Crossroads Bar
• close
  
  
  
  tag!

  Vivienne ( Pepsionne ), Juan ( Zerulu ), Angela ( wendy ), Kai ( Wandering Owl ), Ann ( Danidify ), Aviva ( silentthunder ), Emi ( Dovinique )

Alexei stared himself down in the mirror of his bathroom, fumbling with the tie he was trying to put on.

It wasn't really working out. No matter what he did, it always ended up cockeyed, and then he ended up having to redo it. He'd attempted to look up instructions on how exactly to do the knot without fucking it up- as muscle memory had obviously failed him -but had no luck. Each time looked like a toddler with no hand-eye coordination had attempted to do it. That wasn't going to do it for the occasion he was going to.

Which wasn't an event that was stated to be fancy, to be clear. He'd gotten the invitation days beforehand and it had said nothing about a dress code, not to mention the meeting was taking place in a bar. Not exactly the sort of location to hold a black tie event. That said, it was also a well-paying job- the sort of job only someone from Empyrea could fund -and he wasn't sure that 'business casual' would cut it. He didn't really wear business casual, either. Usually, he just wore casual-casual. He slightly regretted not taking more time over the years to perfect his sense of style, seeing as it was definitely hurting him in the long run if his tie skills were anything to go by.

He tried one more time, crossing the ends, slipping the bigger end over the top, and trying to get the knot to look proper. At first, he thought he succeeded. Another look at it revealed that, while better, it still looked like he'd been drunk while doing it. With a frustrated sigh, he tugged it off, stalking out of the bathroom and throwing it onto the bed. Well, it was back to his original plan: wearing something that was nearly unacceptable for any sort of meeting. He didn't have the energy to try anything else.

Clothing wasn't the sort of thing that defined the skills he had, anyway, and that was the whole reason he'd gotten an invitation in the first place. Something about him 'reaching mastery' of his 'craft', which was really just fancy wording for the fact he was getting bored out of his skull with jobs that he used to find difficult. Now, he didn't trust the invitation as far as he could throw it, which wasn't all that far (he had poor strength, which was fine for his job), but he couldn't say he wasn't intrigued. The money aspect was nice, but the fact it mentioned true magic? That basically catered to his interests.

It also made it more likely that it was a police scam and he was going to get arrested when he stepped foot in the bar. It was fine, though.

After throwing on whatever he could find that was at least a little presentable, he made his way to the bar, which was thankfully not too far from where he lived. He'd been there once or twice before, though he couldn't particularly remember the events of either occasion, and he knew that it had a reputation for being a meeting place for these sorts of things. It set him more at ease to know that at the very least, he push some other criminal in front of the police so they could take them instead and he could make a run for it. Was it the polite thing to do? Of course not, but sometimes, you had to look out for yourself.

Walking in, he immediately spotted table 4, already filled with people. Quite a few people. A lot more than he was expecting, honestly, which sort of set him back into unease. The first woman at the table was dressed in a way that seemed less 'criminal meet-up' and more 'fancy date night', a cigarette on hand. The second person seemed too excited about the situation, which was unnerving, and if they had all looked like they were there to learn about a heist job, the man next to them would've stuck out like a sore thumb because he frankly just looked like he was just plucked off the street and shoved into a chair at the table. The next woman he instantly clocked as someone who was from Empyrea, just from the way she dressed. After her, at least, the next person looked like they were supposed to be there; then it was right back to interesting outfits, with another fancy dress he was sure he'd seen around some house parties his father hosted and another that looked...fine, but really not what he was expecting.

He wasn't much to look at himself, of course, and he doubted he looked professional, but he was sure as hell under dressed now. Maybe he should've just stuck with the button down shirt.

He took a deep breath, then let it out, steeling himself. Once he was feeling more prepared, he made his way over, trying to be as casual as possible as he pulled out the first available seat he could and sat down. "So, who's ready to get arrested today, eh? I, personally, am pretty stoked." He said with a grin, though kept his voice down. When a waitress came over, he continued at a normal volume "Hey, hi! Yea, could I get a water, please? Thank you so much."

This already was turning out to be interesting, and he hadn't even been there that long.

coded by weldherwings.

Spoiler: mobile friendly!!!

Alexei Wagner | The Crossroads Bar | Interacting with Vivienne ( Pepsionne ), Juan ( Zerulu ), Angela ( wendy ), Kai ( Wandering Owl ), Ann ( Danidify ),Aviva ( silentthunder ), Emi ( Dovinique )
Mood: Laughs Nervously What the Fuck?​

Alexei stared himself down in the mirror of his bathroom, fumbling with the tie he was trying to put on.

It wasn't really working out. No matter what he did, it always ended up cockeyed, and then he ended up having to redo it. He'd attempted to look up instructions on how exactly to do the knot without fucking it up- as muscle memory had obviously failed him -but had no luck. Each time looked like a toddler with no hand-eye coordination had attempted to do it. That wasn't going to do it for the occasion he was going to.

Which wasn't an event that was stated to be fancy, to be clear. He'd gotten the invitation days beforehand and it had said nothing about a dress code, not to mention the meeting was taking place in a bar. Not exactly the sort of location to hold a black tie event. That said, it was also a well-paying job- the sort of job only someone from Empyrea could fund -and he wasn't sure that 'business casual' would cut it. He didn't really wear business casual, either. Usually, he just wore casual-casual. He slightly regretted not taking more time over the years to perfect his sense of style, seeing as it was definitely hurting him in the long run if his tie skills were anything to go by.

He tried one more time, crossing the ends, slipping the bigger end over the top, and trying to get the knot to look proper. At first, he thought he succeeded. Another look at it revealed that, while better, it still looked like he'd been drunk while doing it. With a frustrated sigh, he tugged it off, stalking out of the bathroom and throwing it onto the bed. Well, it was back to his original plan: wearing something that was nearly unacceptable for any sort of meeting. He didn't have the energy to try anything else.

Clothing wasn't the sort of thing that defined the skills he had, anyway, and that was the whole reason he'd gotten an invitation in the first place. Something about him 'reaching mastery' of his 'craft', which was really just fancy wording for the fact he was getting bored out of his skull with jobs that he used to find difficult. Now, he didn't trust the invitation as far as he could throw it, which wasn't all that far (he had poor strength, which was fine for his job), but he couldn't say he wasn't intrigued. The money aspect was nice, but the fact it mentioned true magic? That basically catered to his interests.

It also made it more likely that it was a police scam and he was going to get arrested when he stepped foot in the bar. It was fine, though.

After throwing on whatever he could find that was at least a little presentable, he made his way to the bar, which was thankfully not too far from where he lived. He'd been there once or twice before, though he couldn't particularly remember the events of either occasion, and he knew that it had a reputation for being a meeting place for these sorts of things. It set him more at ease to know that at the very least, he push some other criminal in front of the police so they could take them instead and he could make a run for it. Was it the polite thing to do? Of course not, but sometimes, you had to look out for yourself.

Walking in, he immediately spotted table 4, already filled with people. Quite a few people. A lot more than he was expecting, honestly, which sort of set him back into unease. The first woman at the table was dressed in a way that seemed less 'criminal meet-up' and more 'fancy date night', a cigarette on hand. The second person seemed too excited about the situation, which was unnerving, and if they had all looked like they were there to learn about a heist job, the man next to them would've stuck out like a sore thumb because he frankly just looked like he was just plucked off the street and shoved into a chair at the table. The next woman he instantly clocked as someone who was from Empyrea, just from the way she dressed. After her, at least, the next person looked like they were supposed to be there; then it was right back to interesting outfits, with another fancy dress he was sure he'd seen around some house parties his father hosted and another that looked...fine, but really not what he was expecting.

He wasn't much to look at himself, of course, and he doubted he looked professional, but he was sure as hell under dressed now. Maybe he should've just stuck with the button down shirt.

He took a deep breath, then let it out, steeling himself. Once he was feeling more prepared, he made his way over, trying to be as casual as possible as he pulled out the first available seat he could and sat down. "So, who's ready to get arrested today, eh? I, personally, am pretty stoked." He said with a grin, though kept his voice down. When a waitress came over, he continued at a normal volume "Hey, hi! Yea, could I get a water, please? Thank you so much."

This already was turning out to be interesting, and he hadn't even been there that long.

 

[lion.]

leo cassio

Location: Crossroads
Interaction: @everyoneatthetable
Mood: Lively

this scrolls just in case the text overflows

“Oh, come on, you A-list wannabe. A little fire scare you?” Leo hooked in a light persiflage with the stranger beside him.

The pair were towed together in seating below a carbon black, angular awning of a bus stop. Barred in between the sides of the stand, the heavy spectacle wearer was letterheads deep into his hefty newspaper when the tipoff of a tang of smoke curbed up his nose. In chronology to the instinct of senses, the stranger deviated from the periodical of local news to watch the margin of Leo’s letter entangle with a rhapsodic flame. Leo didn’t blame the stranger’s stirring. The bus stop was a banal guest keeper and only glisted with the chipped, battered ad of a popular dentist’s unduly smile, and snapshot of a puffy, garlic crust for a pizzeria which everyone knew was a pseudo of what was actually baking in their brick ovens. Sooner or later, the articles would have become a bore to anyone, and in masses, it was a rarity to come across an arsonist trial out his inferno in dressing pants and an unbuttoned, flagrant white shirt. The match that Leo once had ported under the letter was now a waned stick which rippled in debris of a nebulous exhaust of smoke. Butting it between his lips, Leo joined the filmic watch as the paper became skimpier and retroceded in folds.

“Well, anyways,” jocularly added Leo, when the tires of a double-decker bus stumped at the pavement of the road, “Catch you on the flip side, brother.”

The Crossroads was as close as Leo could get to cloud nine, otherwise he’d still be stranded on ground zero. Infinity and beyond- this bar was a juncture for the wild, the wicked, and the lost. The music had an active cadence that jumped the walls; had there been a shift in the ground, the Crossroads would’ve never felt it in their snappy rhythms and gaudy basses. Spin the wheel on the spectrum of color and harshen the tones. The lights would give a heartburn to those with soft eyes, yet a cue for keenly sighted as crooks alike hustled in the dim. An aroma of aged and cheap beer mingled with a tonic taste of metal; he who hunts for people just might find them after bribed with a drink in hand.

“Disco queen, tell me if you dig the shirt,” he’d purr to his favorite waitress, swooping for the shot glass on her tray.

Table four was inscribed in his head like a tattoo. In a spoor of steps, he located the table that was propped with numerous chairs, bequeathed with a tablecloth of offwhite. Winding about the table, he would’ve made an outwardly general introduction, except among the doublets eyes reflecting back at him, there was one that called to him the loudest, belonging to a particular Ann Hansen. Remembrance, he couldn’t dodge quick enough, and for a block of a moment the gates of flashbacks swerved open and a turmoil arose within him. Drunk, he felt like, even though the color of whiskey lived in her eyes.

Come what may, he was floored by her, and he rashly pulled over a seat beside her, his arm plowing behind her chair.

“Baby, it’s been a millenia,” he flattered emphatically, “How have you been macking around?”
Then, towards the group, he opined, “Q needs quite a team, yeah?”
.

code by fudgecakez

 

[Remembrance]

Julian NapureLOCATION_ Crossroads Bar
INTERACTION(S)_ Everyone at the table [yeah you]
MOOD_ Indescribable
Julian walked up the stairs of his apartment complex. His apartment was on the 7th floor and he wasn't enjoying the exercise. Completing a flight, he saw the large sign with a 7 on it, knowing he was close to relaxing on his couch; he sped up and reached the door. Upon exiting the stairwell, another man was walking through the hallway. The man glanced at Julian for but a moment, shaking his head with what Julian imagined to be an eye-roll accompanying it. Julian justified himself in his mind, saying The elevator was closed. He continued on before looking back at the man, feeling that he should be much more cautious in the future.

Approaching his apartment door, his cheerful mood and hopefulness to be on his couch were ruined as he spotted a white sheet of paper with bold red writing taped onto his door. As he advanced towards the door, he sighed. "Eviction notice," Julian mumbled, "of course." The former sergeant didn't take heed to this warning and unlocked his door, ripping the paper off it while he entered his now bleak and dark apartment. Over the years, he saw his apartment slowly appear darker and dreadful. His passion had been taken from him and he no longer felt as if he had anything to aspire to. He worked part-time as a security guard for lower status companies and their buildings. It paid well but not well enough to afford an apartment of this size and location.

Julian passed his kitchen counter and started towards the fridge, the eviction notice paper was crumpled and thrown to the floor. Julian ripped open the door to his fridge, the glasses and frozen foods within shook as he searched around for something cold and alcoholic to drink. Towards the far end of his refrigerator laid one cold beverage certainly containing alcohol. Julian grabbed it and attempted cracking the cap off by slamming it against his kitchen counter. Julian groaned when the cap didn't pop off and decided against trying it again. He ended up grabbing a bottle opener. Julian fell into his couch, he turned his head and peered out his window. The sky appeared rather cloudy or that was just his perception of the outside world he no longer had a passion for.

By the time his reflection was over, he had finished his beverage and needed another one. He could feel the alcohol doing its work and dulling his nerves. Julian figured he'd be reflecting for a while, he popped open his wine cabinet and grabbed a rather large bottle from it. Julian looked with bleak eyes at the bottle. Julian passed his counter and looked down at the letter he was given but a few days ago, it was torn open and read thoroughly. He took a regretful deep breath and sat down at his couch and sculled the whole bottle. Julian later collapsed on his couch.

- - -

Julian awoke startled to a knock on his door. Julian walked drunkenly towards the door, he moved his head towards the peephole and found the apartment complex owner just standing there. Julian sighed and rolled his eyes before unchaining the door and opening it.
"I'm humbled," Julian spoke first as to annoy the owner who had a serious superiority complex. "The owner himself at my door."
The owner tilted his head to look into Julian's apartment, then turning to face him. "I see you've taken notice of the eviction paper. Might I ask what you plan on doing to stay here?" The owner talked with a pompous tone, something Julian hated with whatever passion he had left.
"One week." Julian rose a finger. "One week and you'll see me here for a lot longer." He conveyed this almost as a threat, he knew the owner didn't like him so, why make it easy on his conscious?
The owner clicked his tongue before groaning and stomping off.

Julian closed the door, chaining it up while he debated grabbing another bottle and drinking his day away until he remembered the letter he had laying on the counter. He groaned as he picked up the letter and re-read it, he read the date that he was supposed to be going to the first meeting and then looked at his calendar, he squinted at it realizing today was the day. Julian sighed and walked towards his room. He undressed and picked out his outfit for the day. An outfit that conveyed a professional nature.

Before putting on his suit jacket, Julian grabbed a shoulder holster, it could hold two handguns but Julian only had one and figured he'd need only one. He tightened the vest and reached in his bedside table, grabbing his revolver and holstering it. Julian threw on his jacket, grabbing any other necessities, and heading out from his apartment. Julian hailed a cab and told the driver "Crossroads, please."

- - -

The cab driver wasn't willing to bring Julian all the way into the Reach and opted to leave Julian in the safer part of the Reach. Julian ended up walking the rest of the way. Once having a job where all he did was patrol around, Julian was indifferent to the dangers of the Reach and the alleyways he crossed to make it to this infamous bar. He knew of this bar, long before accepting the invite to this operation. Though he had no authority to enter nor investigate the bar while on or off duty. But considering his circumstances and current situation, he no longer had any rules he had to abide by. Julian approached the entrance, looking up at the flickering sign, he decided to a quick smoke in. After a few puffs just outside the entrance, his nerves were even more dulled and he felt ready to take on whatever was within this bar. He flicked the cigarette to the pavement and stomped on it, grounding it with his foot.

Entering the bar, a waitress approached him. Julian remembered what table he needed to be at, he clicked his tongue and told the waitress, "Table 4." As the waitress guided her hand to where table 4 was; Julian unbuttoned his suit jacket, the holster showing ever so slightly. His shoes clicked on the creaking wood floor; he cracked his neck and scratched his back as he looked at the group present at the table. Julian pulled up a seat, his company weren't exactly looking promising, at least from the first inspection. Julian cleared his throat and sat upright; smiling, and conveying a hardy "Hello" to the group. When asked what he wanted for a drink, Julian responded with "Water."​

 

[Pepsionne]

Vivienne Kline| Mood: Bewildered
​

Vivienne sipped her drink casually as the group waited for the vacant chairs around them to fill up one by one. The seconds seemed to pass by agonizingly slow; each tick of the clock felt like a full hour. She ran her finger down the side of her glass absently, the condensation that clung to the surface pooling around the tip of her nail before running down in a stream. The rogue drops were sucked into the spongy texture of the coaster. Not like she even really needed to use a coaster. The top of the table was covered in what seemed to her like a thick coat of wax, most likely some cheap material that made it durable to the plentiful drinks that were spilled here on the daily. When she put her palms against the surface, it even felt sticky.

A poorly dressed woman had arrived shortly after she did, taking a seat noticeably distanced from her and the woman smoking. Vivienne paid no mind to the gesture. After what felt like hours, two more women arrived at the table politely, giving small greetings upon their arrival. In lieu of giving a response, Vivienne just gave a light smile.

Each new person chipped away at a small pit of anxiety in her chest. The one fear that had she conjured up about this entirely sketchy situation was the fear that she would stumble across someone who had ties to home. If something were to happen and Edwin and her family were jeopardized in the process, she didn’t think it would be possible to surmount the level of grief it would bring. Now with six people huddled around the table, excluding herself, Vivienne could feel her unconscious tenseness start to ease.

And then Alexei arrived.

Vivienne’s eyes noticeably widened at his figure. She closed them hard and gave a subtle shake to her head, hoping she had just given herself a fright. When she opened her eyes to look at the newcomer’s features once more, it cemented in her mind that this was no illusion. That was Alexei Wagner, the Duke of Myrt’s son. She silently cursed her tutor for drilling Empyrea royalty so expertly into her head during official dinners.

In a matter of seconds, Vivienne’s tense demeanor expanded far beyond its original state. She locked her gaze on the table, debating whether she should say something to him. Although she had only interacted with him briefly, he was bound to recognize her eventually. If not her face, then definitely the Kline name. Was it too late to think up an alias?

A rather–eccentric character then approached the table, taking his seat with a flourish before flirting with the girl that had arrived dressed in sweats. With the attention of the group drawn to him like a moth to light, Vivienne seized the opportunity to look at Alexei instead.

She could feel her impulsive nature beginning to burst through the anxiety that dominated her actions for so long. The vodka definitely didn’t help.
Vivienne held her gaze on him as she said. “I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

(interacts elytra , Alexei)

 

[elytra]

alexei wagner

online

Alexei
mood
outfit
location
tag

• 000001
• 000001
• 000001
• 000001
• 000001

• blank
• close
  
  
  
  mood

  
  

  No Thoughts Head Empty
• close
  
  
  
  outfit

  
  

  A worn t-shirt, jeans, and his beanie; currently rocking cat graphic socks and not ashamed of it.
• close
  
  
  
  location

  The Crossroads Bar
• close
  
  
  
  tag!

  Vivienne ( Pepsionne )

Alexei was, frankly, fine with fading into the background.

He'd never been big on being in the spotlight. It was a good thing for someone with a job like his. 'Flashy' didn't really mesh well with 'high stakes crime', in his opinion; too many things could go wrong. Sure, he had a bad habit of jumping head-first into things- also not great with 'high stakes crime' -but he at the very least kept it subtle at most times. So, he really didn't mind when the focus shifted off of him almost instantly and went to a newcomer who's presence basically demanded attention. He slumped in his seat, any etiquette he'd learned in his youth forgotten in favor of trying to relax and not seem as up-tight as he felt. And it was working great....

Until the Empyrea girl talked to him directly.

He was sure the confusion was evident on his face as he pushed himself back up to sit properly in his chair, giving her a good look. This wasn't really unusual, him forgetting a face. He did it often; names completely escaped him, as did any ability to recognize people in general; his brain was a colander and any relevant information to his social life was equivalent to sand. Him forgetting someone wasn't particularly worrying. Being recognize by someone from Empyrea, though? That was probably bad.

Though, going by the fact she was present at the table, she wasn't exactly living a legal life either. It was a small mercy, but he would take it if it meant that his father wouldn't find out about him making a hobby of robbing nobles. Getting arrested was preferable to that, really; he couldn't imagine how deep a grave he would dig himself trying to talk his way out of his fathers disappointment.

He was silent for a moment, giving her a once over and trying to place where they could have met. It wasn't as if he went out often, after all; he was functionally a hermit. Maybe he'd helped rob her? But that wouldn't make sense, because she wasn't currently trying to bludgeon him to death with whatever was closest to her. The only thing that would make sense was one of those stupid parties that his family had dragged him to. While he hadn't been able to clock who she was quite yet, he could at least act like he remembered him with the little information he'd managed to scrounge up.

He flashed her a lopsided smile. "Yea, it's been a hot second, hasn't it?" He agreed, though frankly he had no idea how long a 'hot second' was, considering he had no fucking clue when they had last seen one another (or, actually, when they had even met) "Not that I was expecting to see you here of all places. Empyrea get too boring?"

He was bullshitting this so much, and if he was wrong, it was going to be embarrassing. He'd roll with the punches as they came, though.

coded by weldherwings.

Spoiler: mobile friendly!!!

Alexei Wagner | The Crossroads Bar | Interacting with Vivienne ( Pepsionne )
Mood: No Thoughts Head Empty​

Alexei was, frankly, fine with fading into the background.

He'd never been big on being in the spotlight. It was a good thing for someone with a job like his. 'Flashy' didn't really mesh well with 'high stakes crime', in his opinion; too many things could go wrong. Sure, he had a bad habit of jumping head-first into things- also not great with 'high stakes crime' -but he at the very least kept it subtle at most times. So, he really didn't mind when the focus shifted off of him almost instantly and went to a newcomer who's presence basically demanded attention. He slumped in his seat, any etiquette he'd learned in his youth forgotten in favor of trying to relax and not seem as up-tight as he felt. And it was working great....

Until the Empyrea girl talked to him directly.

He was sure the confusion was evident on his face as he pushed himself back up to sit properly in his chair, giving her a good look. This wasn't really unusual, him forgetting a face. He did it often; names completely escaped him, as did any ability to recognize people in general; his brain was a colander and any relevant information to his social life was equivalent to sand. Him forgetting someone wasn't particularly worrying. Being recognize by someone from Empyrea, though? That was probably bad.

Though, going by the fact she was present at the table, she wasn't exactly living a legal life either. It was a small mercy, but he would take it if it meant that his father wouldn't find out about him making a hobby of robbing nobles. Getting arrested was preferable to that, really; he couldn't imagine how deep a grave he would dig himself trying to talk his way out of his fathers disappointment.

He was silent for a moment, giving her a once over and trying to place where they could have met. It wasn't as if he went out often, after all; he was functionally a hermit. Maybe he'd helped rob her? But that wouldn't make sense, because she wasn't currently trying to bludgeon him to death with whatever was closest to her. The only thing that would make sense was one of those stupid parties that his family had dragged him to. While he hadn't been able to clock who she was quite yet, he could at least act like he remembered him with the little information he'd managed to scrounge up.

He flashed her a lopsided smile. "Yea, it's been a hot second, hasn't it?" He agreed, though frankly he had no idea how long a 'hot second' was, considering he had no fucking clue when they had last seen one another (or, actually, when they had even met) "Not that I was expecting to see you here of all places. Empyrea get too boring?"

He was bullshitting this so much, and if he was wrong, it was going to be embarrassing. He'd roll with the punches as they came, though.

 

[Pepsionne]

Vivienne Kline
​

At the sight of Alexei’s features twist into a thinly veiled look of confusion, Vivienne’s heart seemed to beat double in her chest. Had she mistaken him for someone else and just inadvertently given herself away? Her mind was already gearing to switch tracks in an attempt to salvage anything she could out of the situation. What a fine mess she just summoned out of thin air. It wasn’t the first time her impulsive thinking got the better of her, and she was certain it wouldn't be the last. Vivienne wrapped both hands around her glass in an effort to avoid a nervous giveaway.

Her pale blue eyes monitored Alexei’s expression for any sign of change, their skeptical glare unreadable, as if covered by a thin mist. She lifted an eyebrow in anticipation as the man straightened his posture, seeming to have placed her face among their various interactions in the past. Vivienne glanced briefly around the other members of the group, feeling the pressure of their presence. The sluggishness of the brief silence, still hanging in the air, was beginning to make her fidget.

Alexei threw her a lopsided smile, the sight easing her tense nerves slightly. Regardless of the risk it posed, It was nice to have a familiar, friendly face among this table of complete strangers and, well, criminals. "Yea, it's been a hot second, hasn't it?" He said. “Not that I was expecting to see you here of all places. Empyrea get too boring?"

Vivienne let out a huff of laughter at the thought. She smirked mischievously. “Empyrea’s always been too boring. I was one rune line away from stabbing myself in the neck with a pen.” She shrugged. “But I don’t really need to tell you that, do I? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here either.” In a moment of correction, and a quick glance at the others gathered around the table, she added, “None of us would.”

(Interacts: elytra , Mentions: Everyone)

 

[wendy]

Angelina Chernov| Cross Roads | Who the hell are you lot?

Angelina watched each person entering the bar seeing if they'd make their way over to the quiet corner table. "Here's your drink Miss." One of the waitress' spoke placing the Mojito down on the table. Angelina immediately picked up the glass looking up to the waitress who was still stood there looking expectantly "What do you want? A thank you?" Angelina spoke, her tone clearly conveying that she was annoyed "It's your job to serve customers isn't it? Now leave me alone and go bother someone else for a compliment." She spoke as the young waitress looked shocked before walking away back to the bar looking slightly dejected "Who even likes the taste of watered down gin anyway?" Angelina says taking another sip of the fresh mojito before taking another drag of the cigarette that sat between her two fingers. She glanced up hearing the door open again seeing someone talking to the host before being guided to her table before the host walked away. The person standing before her didn't look rich by Angelina's judgement but they did look like they had some type of money so when they greeted her Angelina immediately turned on her dazzling smile and greeted them back "Hello.". This person seemed to be the type to get comfortable easily get comfortable as Angelina watched how their arm extended over the back of the booth but they were careful to keep it casual. "Hm, seems like there is going to be quite a few of us." Angelina said looking at the multiple chairs that had been set up around the booth. Before Angelina could get another word in they were joined by an older man who immediately caught Angelina's interest as she scanned for any signs of valuables but unfortunately there was nothing that caught her interest. This older man seemed slightly awkward which made Angelina chuckle as he seemed to be putting on a front "Not a natural in social situations are we?" Angelina spoke to the older man sitting back in the booth as she put her cigarette out of the table before dropping it in the glass ash tray that sat in the centre of the table. "But yes, seems like someone has been watching us for a while." Angelina spoke her eyes drifting between the pair that sat at the table. "So you're an architect so what may your skill be then?" Angelina said turning to Kai and leaning closer to them slightly.

They were joined by another who stank of old money. Her aura of wealth basically filled the room as heads turned watching the out of place rich girl sauntered over to their table requesting a drink made with top shelf liquor, at the request Angelina rolled her eyes and thought to herself 'give me strength '. It was already clear of what Angelina thought of this girl as she radiated hate and a slight hint of jealousy as she was wearing some extremely expensive clothes. They were yet again joined by another, a young women who looked just a dirt poor as Angelina actually was, she offered the group a greeting before dragging a chair so she was seated as far away from the group as she could get "Why don't you sit a little closer dear? Are you scared we'll bite?" Angelina teased mimicking a bite, her teeth making a light clacking sound as they came together. Angelina reached into her bag pulling out yet another cigarette as she felt like this was going to be a long night of having to get to know people she really didn't want to socialise with, well with maybe the exception of the person who confidently sat next to her. She turned to this person with another smile gently shuffling closer to them as she lit the cigarette letting the smoke circle around her "What's your name gorgeous?" she asked. They were joined by another two women who were both gorgeous in their own right, Angelina offered a smile to the girl wearing a black silk dress "I'm just peachy." Angelina said answering her question quickly before turning her attention back to Kai. Angelina looked at the latest edition who seemed quiet nervous but Angelina made sure to greet her with a "Hello." back before once again turning back to Kai. Finally they were joined by another man, who had a baby face and wasn't that bad looking but not Angelina's usual type. What interested her however was how Miss Empreya reacted upon seeing this new face joining the table, their conversation interested Angelina as she listened carefully "Aww, reunions. Don't they just put you in the best mood?" Angelina said but from her facial expression and her tone it was obvious that they did not put her in the best mood.

The group was next joined by a certain characther with an equally outrageous dress sense, he sauntered over drawn to Ann like a moth to a lamp, he gave her some sort of sleazy compliment before throwing his arm over her shoulder as if they were lovers, that is what made Angelina laugh as she glared at the blonde headed man "Look what the 90's dragged in." She spoke rolling her eyes at his shirt that seemed to have been robbed straight out of some thrift store somewhere "Are you going for the slight homeless man vibe that hits on girls who are clearly over you? or is it just coincidental?" Angelina asked him putting out her second cigarette on the table and then once again dropping it in the ash tray. Angelina glared at him her eyes filled with a fierceness as she gave him the once over with her harsh eyes. Angelina was about to insult him again when another joined the table, "A man of few words are we?" Angelina said to the new comer "Or is there just not a lot going on upstairs?" Angelina was already not in the mood to deal with all these people but the promise of money was what kept her firmly in her seat, along with the person sat beside her.

mentions: everyone.


​

 

[Shadow]

Sebastian Vincent​

The loft was simple, but tidy, betraying nothing about the man who lived there. Since it was in Empyrea, the quality of the very walls was apparent, yet the usual glamour common to other residents in the building was missing. Fortunately, today was another day that Seb wouldn’t be spending in this space, so he remained unbothered by the lack of personal touches. In fact, as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, he had eyes only for the small black machine on the stone counter as he reached for a tall mug in the cabinet. Typically, he would have taken it to go, but he had already accepted the possibility that he would have to make a quick exit from his appointment, and he was unwilling to put another one of his to-go mugs at risk of being left behind.

He moved back to the bedroom and through to the closet as he took the first long chug of coffee. Well, something in this closet would have to work for a meeting at a bar in the Reach. Standards shouldn’t be high.

~§~​

Well, he didn’t have a choice now. Coffee? Drunk. Outfit? Wearing it. Time? Winding down, and he hated being in a rush. He ended up taking a taxi into the Reach, but he was content to walk the extra distance to the bar if it gave him some chance to see if he was being followed.
The Crossroads Bar wasn’t glamorous, and the mild disgust Seb felt as he stepped inside proved that he had grown a bit too comfortable in his Empyrean persona. That gave him the extra push he needed to wave down a hostess and ask about table four.
“I can lead you over, if you like,” she offered. Seb flashed a smile and tilted his head, turning up the charm.

“No need. If you couldn’t just point it out from here, I’ll grab a drink from the bar first.” She gestured subtly and once Seb spotted it, he realized it should have been obvious as soon as he walked in. Sure, the place was pretty crowded, but that seemed to be the only table with quite a collection of...characters.

Walking over to the bar, he perched on one of the stools, taking a few minutes to check out table four from a safe distance while the bartender poured his whiskey. He couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or concerned by the variety of people at table four, but he imagined the right feeling would soon be apparent. Either way, he was probably going to deal with it, as long as he got paid. This wasn’t a chance that would come along often, and he knew better than to let it go.

Eventually there was no more time to be wasted, so he threw back the rest of his drink, left the empty glass on the bar, and headed over to meet his...rivals....or coworkers?
He lowered his voice a few octaves, then spoke as he took one of the last remaining seats, “Well, well, well. I’m sure you’re all wondering why I gathered you here today.” He lounged back in his chair for a moment, meeting each pair of eyes around the table with a slight, crooked smirk before he leaned forward, fingers linking together. “Before we begin, I’d like you all to picture a guy coming at you and the person next to you with a gun. What do you do?”

mentions: everyone​

 

[elytra]

NON-PLAYER POST; NPC (Oliva Hurtz, Owner of the Crossroads)​

Not all of the invitations had been accepted.

That much was apparent. Some of the seats remained empty; it was unlikely that more than needed had been put out, and it was well past the given time for the meeting. If the remaining invited members were not there yet, it was unlikely they were coming at all. And perhaps that was for the better. It wasn't as if things were easy-going. When putting criminals together (along with not-quite-criminals-but-possibly-getting-there folk), things were likely to get worse before they got better, especially considering the lack of information.

It probably didn't help that Q, whoever they were, hadn't shown themselves yet. Time ticked on, and no one else approached the table, though the waiters and waitresses watched it and whispered among themselves in hushed voices, the sort of attention that they did not give the other tables of patrons likely discussing their own schemes. To be fair, though, there wasn't a table in the building nearly as diverse as table 4.

It was about 15 minutes in that someone finally approached the table.

A tall woman, wearing what could be casual wear in comparison to the staff, though clearly known by them as she greeted them when she exited the back of the bar. She walked to table 4 with purpose, though faltered for a moment as she looked over the people occupying the table, a look of surprise on her face. It quickly fell to one of disdain, however. She pulled out one of the empty chairs, having a seat and removing a manila folder from her bag.

"Well, they sure know how to pick 'em." She said, though it seemed more to herself than anyone else, eyes flickering up briefly as she flicked through the contents of the folder. When she spoke next, it was louder (though not enough to gain attention from other tables), and clearly meant for the whole table "Alright, lets get this over with, hm? I'm not in the mood to deal with any bullshit, so if I hear one unneeded comment, I will not hesitate to kick your ass out of here. Are we clear?"

She didn't wait for an answer, seeming to figure that even if it wasn't clear, it didn't matter much. "You all accepted the job, but, ah.... Q isn't going to be giving you the information today. Secrecy and all." She seemed less than pleased with the code name she was forced to use, but soldiered on "So they asked me to give you the run down. Long story short, there's a magic object that needs to be grabbed, and you're a group of various talents that they thought would be useful." She placed the folder down on the table, sliding it towards the middle "That's everything that you need to know that we know, along with information on how to contact Q. The thing is stashed in the Vermilion Dawn Casino. Any questions?"

She seemed less than pleased about the possibility of questions, but remained seated anyway, a frown on her face and arms crossed.

 

[Pepsionne]

Vivienne Kline | The Crossroads Bar
Mood: Frazzled, anxious, annoyed​

The arrival of a new person gratefully shifted the attention of the table away from the awkward encounter between Vivienne and Alexei, but the alternative failed to lessen her anxiety and nerves as well. The woman who approached them didn’t look to hold any sort of status or commanding presence at first glance. The way she carried herself, the expressions on her face and the tone of her voice, however, struck Vivienne differently.

"Well, they sure know how to pick 'em." The woman huffed to herself. She rifled through some papers in her hand with disinterest clearly laden in her movements. "Alright, lets get this over with, hm? I'm not in the mood to deal with any bullshit, so if I hear one unneeded comment, I will not hesitate to kick your ass out of here. Are we clear?"

All Vivienne could seem to do was stare, seemingly dumbstruck, at the tone and words of the woman when addressing their hodge-podge group. She wasn’t used to hearing that type of language in professional situations and was certainly not accustomed to being addressed that way personally. She unconsciously tilted her chin higher in the air, an uptight habit formed when listening to something, or someone, she didn’t like.

The woman left no room for the group to exhale before plowing forward in their rundown, let alone allow for any questions or commentary. Vivienne felt a wave of relief in hearing that the woman in question was not the mysterious Q, whom she felt a deeper sense of respect and obligation to. She was putting herself on the line for this person, after all, she might at least respect them.

The ambient sounds of the bar continued to bumble underneath the woman’s voice, but there was a certain tension in the sounds. It was as if everyone in the bar was listening in on their conversation, talking on a glass surface so as to peer into table four’s conversation without shattering the illusion of their own empty words. Even the waiters and waitresses moved with a tightened sense of caution, setting down glasses and plates with a second of hesitation to soften the landing.

“...Long story short, there's a magic object that needs to be grabbed, and you're a group of various talents that they thought would be useful. That's everything that you need to know that we know, along with information on how to contact Q. The thing is stashed in the Vermilion Dawn Casino. Any questions?"

Vivienne’s misty blue eyes had been trained with a stark clarity on the manila folder, its matte surface contrasting against the glossy surface of the table it rested on. Upon the mention of the name Vermilion Dawn Casino, her expression jolted into a tensed look of concern. The name was not unfamiliar to her, and that made her nervous. If it was something she could trace even remotely to her ties to Empyrea and the royal court, it meant it was dangerous.

Her well manicured hand reached out to grab the manila folder before anyone else could, the small tattoo of a lightning bolt that made its home on her thin wrist flashing quickly as the fabric of her jacket pulled upward from the movement. Vivienne flipped through the papers carefully. Most of it passed through her mind quickly without the hope of retention. Two names, however, burned their appearance onto the page with a fierce sense of permanence. Ace Spades and Quincy Windsor. Vivienne closed the folder with a sharp snap and set it onto the table for someone else to look at instead.

Her stomach had dropped out at the bottom, the contents inside seeming to have turned to sludge, slowly dripping downwards. She had heard rumors at work about Ace Spades working with some of the elite rune workers, some of which her brother Edwin was bound to know and be well acquainted with. One of them specifically, was Quincy Windsor.

“The freckled bastard” Vivienne thought to herself. The head rune worker, who worked closely with Edwin and had strong ties to the Kline family. The Windsor and Kline families had an entwined history together, both providing elite rune workers essential to the royal family. One glance in her direction and Quincy would recognize something was up. So much for her “skill set” being part of the heist.

Vivienne cursed under her breath, downing the last bit of her drink in one go. Her nerves were beginning to make her fidget, and when she got to this point of fidgeting, her magic had a tendency to go on the fritz. She could already feel the snapping energy of electricity in her chest. She brushed down her hair, which was beginning to stand up with subtle static.