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@bluebeaumont
Location: Manor of Hope Gala
Closed Starter: @bluebeaumont
A formal event like this was second nature to Iara, as familiar as repairing the engine on her motorcycle. She glided through the room with effortless elegance, blending seamlessly with the city's elite. While she usually remained composed and confident in such settings, she couldn't help but worry about how the rest of her group would be perceived. After all, a motorcycle club wasn’t exactly what one envisioned in the midst of grandeur. "Are you holding up?" she asked her leader nonchalantly. "No one's causing trouble, right? Because I know a few subtle ways to wreck everything without us getting kicked out."
adjusting the tie around his neck before sebastian slipped his palm into the depths of his pant pocket as he surveyed the crowd before him. he hadn't been this dressed up since court. he wore a classic black suit with black tie, his hair slicked back and cleanly shaven face. his sergeant in arms was far more accustomed to parties such as this so the group were taking their cues from her. as she came to stand next to sebastian, his eyes flickered to her before returning to the crowd. "lara." he nodded his acknowledgement. "i wish there was more trouble, honestly. im bored." sebastian smirked as he stiffled a yawn with this sleeve, eyeing the brunette out of the corner of his eyes. "forgot how well you scrub up. do i pass?" he questioned, turning his body towards her and holding his arms out to show himself off.
open starter;;
ava grace harland had mastered the art of effortless composure. she stood at the top of the marble staircase, champagne flute poised between two fingers, lips curved into the perfect approximation of a smile. below, los angeles’ elite swayed beneath chandeliers the size of automobiles, draped in silk, diamonds, and borrowed influence. the air hummed with whispered negotiations masked as pleasantries, power exchanged in the flick of a wrist, the arch of a brow. she descended the stairs slowly, aware of the eyes that followed. she was used to that — being watched, being assessed, being measured against the weight of her last name & her political rank. but tonight, she wasn’t just asa harland jr’s daughter. tonight, she was his heir.
the strings of the orchestra swelled, a haunting melody that threaded through the air like smoke. across the room, the barone patriarch held court, his laughter ringing over the din of conversation. beside him, castro men whispered among themselves, de la cruz heirs watching with unreadable expressions. the family had united, yes, but old grudges never truly died. ava turned her attention back to the person in front of her, someone who had caught her eye earlier on. her gaze was steady. she smiled—slow, deliberate. “who do you think will give the most tonight... will it be you? anything caught your eye?” and just like that, the game began. @bloodnglorystart
the point of sebastian's attendance at this stupid event was simple. to observe. to take note. to put away bits of information in his memory bank. if he could cause a little chaos that could be fun too. but only if said chaos didn't backfire on him or the club. the male's eyes scanned the ballroom the crowd stood. he was dressed appropriately for the event. he did not want to stick out like a sore thumb in his club kit and dirty fingernails. so he showered, shaved and wore the only suit he owned. sebastian even had to borrow a tie from a one of the brothers to complete the ensemble. he felt ridiculous but couldn't argue that he looked good. the last time he'd looked remotely this good was for court before he was sent to prison. now the president of the outlaws mc stood with his back against pressed against a marble wall towards the back where he wouldn't be immediately noticed by the crowd. a glass grasped in his hand full of ice cubes and an amber liquid. the alcohol was needed to help get him through the next few hours.
sebastian had noticed the blonde. he watched as she stood at the top of the stairs and continued to watch as she descended into the crowd. he hadn't expected her to approach him or even speak with him. he knew exactly who she was. it was hard from a harland to go through this town anonymously. so the male was taken slight off guard with her approach and by the words spoken in his directly. however, it was but a second before sebastian's usual mask of charm and arrogance fell into place. a smirk turning up at the corners of his lips. 'i don't give anything, darling. certainly not to this lot." he gestured around at the crowd. his sworn enemies. "plenty has caught my eye and something is brewing. how about you, trouble? what's your thoughts of this lovely evening?"
open starter @bloodnglorystart
location: manor of hope gala
Anya was beyond excited to be at the Manor of Hope Gala—it was the event of the year. Everyone who mattered would be there, and it was the perfect chance to play the part of a rich, high-society socialite. Not that she was short on funds, but there was something undeniably fun about stepping into that world for the night. "Has anything caught your eye?" she asked a nearby guest. The art section was beautiful, even if she wasn’t an expert on the subject.
Thinking he would blend in with the rest of the evenings patrons, sebastian didn't expect to be spoken to. he was dressed in his best, he had showered and shaved. he looked like he belonged. so no one should be speaking to him, especially someone he hadn't come across before. these people usually stuck to their own kind. not this woman. "plenty has caught my eye, love. but not the art. do i look like an art man?"
who: open ( @bloodnglorystart ) where: manor of hope gala
Santino knew this house like the back of his hand. He might not have grown up in this particular Barone estate, but he’d spent enough time in places just like it—grand, excessive, designed to impress. That meant he knew exactly where to linger, when to smile, and how to make it look effortless, even when he wanted to be anywhere else. Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in warm light, casting soft glows over silk gowns and pressed suits. The string quartet played something elegant and forgettable, underscoring the hum of polite conversation and thinly veiled posturing.
Santino adjusted his cuff, fingers smoothing over the fine fabric of his suit. Not his event, but he still found himself in the familiar role of ensuring things ran smoothly. Guests needed wrangling, conversations needed steering, and it never hurt to be aware of where certain people were at all times—especially in a room full of high society, law enforcement, and criminals all pretending to play nice. Standing near the bar, he let his gaze drift across the room, scanning the crowd. Someone was bound to make things interesting sooner or later. Lifting his glass to his lips, his eyes settled on the nearest person. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
this night was already exhausting him. he was bored. nothing exciting was happening. no one was threatening anyone else. no one had thrown any punches. it was a shame really. the guaranteed entertainment had failed. so the bar was his next best bet. he approached at a casual stroll so not to draw attention to himself. once he had arrived at the hard top bar, he lent in and over - visually sorting the array of alcohol on offer. with his mind quickly made up, sebastian's next movements were quick and swift. he reached over the bar and took one of the expensive looking bottles of whiskey. It was only once he had the bottle tucked under his arm that the other's voice reached his ear.
"and who are you to tell me what is and isn't something I would do? sebastian questioned, slight annoyance tainting his voice.
BASIC INFORMATION:
full name: sebastian beaumont nickname(s): bastian, blue, etc birthday: may 22nd age: thirty eight gender: cis-male sexuality: heterosexual occupation: leader of the outlaws mc education: high school diploma (barely)