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It was a normal afternoon, the day after a nice ceremony when a loud BANG resounded through the Sagrada Hall’s property. No one’s sure how it happened or why, but the staff quickly exited the building, just in time to see what was left of the kitchen go up in flames. Thankfully, no one was in there at the time of the explosion, with the Caterer out of town and the Servers in one of the break room. But that only raised more questions as to who did it. Sirens rang in their ears as the firefighters came to drench the bright fire. Sitting there terrified, covered in soot and worried was the staff, wondering if they would have jobs the next day. They wouldn’t, at least not there. With the crumbling structure devoid of flame, just a wet black mess, they went to survey the damage. The kitchen was severely damaged, with the industrial stove almost unrecognizable. The ballroom itself had fared better but just barely. The usual whimsical effect it usually had on visitors was replaced with a dark eeriness instead. Extinguished before the fire got past the ballroom, the offices and staff room were safe, with only smoke clinging to the walls within. Though all seemed to be lost, they promised each other they would R E B U I L D.

RSVPHQ is officially on hiatus, but only for a bit! We’ll be back with some fresher plots (some revolving the explosion and rebuilding of the hall), a few new character skeletons, and a lot more wedding mayhem. Thank you to our members both past and current for your participation, we can’t wait to see you for round two.

#rsvpnotice

I'd like to apply to this group but I have to take a hiatus for the best part of August as I'm going on holiday. Is that likely to lessen my chances of getting in?

That depends! As our rules state, you can only take a hiatus once you’ve been active for two weeks, and a hiatus only lasts for two weeks. So if you apply and are accepted this weekend, you would have to be active for at least two weeks and then you’d be able to take your hiatus in August, but it can’t exceed two weeks. If that works for the dates of your vacation then it shouldn’t be problem!

#question #Anonymous

I'm really scared to apply because you rejected the florist twice...

I’m sorry you feel that way, it really wasn’t a matter of bad writing in either case, it was just that my idea of the florist and theirs didn’t exactly line up. You’re still free to interpret the character as you’d like, but when there are fundamental differences I can’t look past, it’s hard for me to accept if it doesn’t feel right. If you’re interested in the Florist, maybe we can talk a bit about the character before you start your application? Feel free to IM the main and we can see if your interpretation and mine line up and I could even give you some tips on what I’m looking for in that app in particular. If it makes you feel better, I accepted the other roles on the first try!

#question #Anonymous

DAVID ( Diego Boneta ) and VAL ( Victoria Justice ) have just decided to tie the knot! Like every couple, they have their differences, and some communication problems, but they’re glad the time has finally come to start their lives together.

Val would like PINK AND PEACH ROSES in her bouquet and as the centerpieces, but absolutely no yellow flowers. There is no set theme, they just want a SIMPLE SUMMER WEDDING, and JORDAN ALMONDS in the guests’s party favor boxes. At the reception they want their first dance to be to their song (they have yet to come to an agreement as to what that song it is). Despite David’s choice to become a vegan, his mother would like to remind guests that this is not some hippie wedding where anyone can sit wherever they want. There will be sides for each family and she expects that to be respected. David would like a VEGAN CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN, Val would like a regular one as well. Because of their differences in food choices, they’re requesting TWO OPTIONS FOR THE MENUS, one being completely vegan.

GUESTS JOINING US THIS WEEK WILL BE

David Garcia (GROOM)

Valeria Rosado (BRIDE)

Estefania Jiménez (TEMP CATERER)

#rsvpfollow #rsvpevent

Hello everyone! Unfortunately this week we will not be accepting any applications. Thank you to those that applied! Feedback will be given if requested.

#rsvpnotice

Please follow your fellow staff members:

The Owner

#rsvpfollow

❝You don’t need to worry, this love will make us worthy.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Aaron Wright

Pronouns ; He/Him

Age ; Thirty-Two

to RSVP

Hometown ; Larkhall, SCT

Occupation ; Carpenter

Faceclaim ; Richard Madden

In the small Scottish town of Larkhall, there was no such thing as a private life. Sophia and Kit Wright weren’t Prom Queen or King, weren’t incredibly popular even by small town standards, but in a school as intimate as theirs, everyone knew everyone else, and so they knew too the moment Sophia realized she was pregnant. The impromptu wedding in a field behind Kit’s house, the lights strung up around a small barn, his dog as the ring bearer, all of it, their most private moments, were spread around town with the air of terrible, unfortunate gossip. But the stories never included just how much Sophia loved that dog or how she laughed until she cried when she saw it bounding down the aisle, or how she’d always wanted to marry Kit anyway, and how though it was not ideal, this rush job they’d done, it was still the life she’d wanted, just a life on fast forward.

And fast forward, they did: four years later, and the couple’s son, Aaron, was the energy that kept them going, the motivation through every missed payment, every moment they would have let their life slip through the cracks had they not seen a better one on the horizon. Years later, Aaron’s father would tell him that it was his mother’s smile that kept them going all those years. Though her parents disowned her quickly after the pregnancy was announced, though Aaron’s parents had no money to offer the down-on-their-luck couple, Sophia never stopped dreaming. She hung the first dollar she ever made on the tiny wall above the couch, worked herself ragged but always with a song on her lips. Or so his father claimed. (It would be much longer before Aaron’s father could admit the rest, that maybe he’d romanticized the past, maybe he’d never seen the dark spots under his wife’s eyes. Maybe he’d been too busy with his own tired life to notice her pain, or maybe he’d never wanted to. But he’d notice soon enough; a few days after Aaron’s ninth birthday, the dark spots under Sophia’s eyes grew darker, she got sick, and she never got back up.)

Aaron grew up with the same stars in his eyes and spoke of his mother like she was a saint, someone he tried desperately to emulate. But while memories–ones he barely had, ones that were carried on only in his father’s stories–could remain perfect, real life rarely could. Aaron spent his days working in his father’s department store, a tool box under his arm more often than he ever had a backpack. He had hoped to be like his parents, to go to school one day, catch a girl’s eye across the room, and feel it, that instant spark, the knowledge that his soulmate was right there for the loving. He never felt it, not truly, though he did come close once: a boy in the seventh grade who smiled at him during a game of dodgeball, but boys weren’t supposed to like boys, so when the kid tried to kiss him after school, Aaron had run and never looked back.

It wasn’t until he and his father had moved to America, settled in Los Angeles and opened up a new shop, that Aaron began to see it: boys holding hands of other boys. When he lost his virginity to his then woodshop partner and soon-to-be-big-hollywood-actor in the storage room of his father’s shop, he was sure: Aaron was very, very gay. He’d planned to keep it to himself; heaven knows his father’s life had been hard enough, and the man spoke so often about the grandchildren he’d have one day to “make his life worth it again” that Benjamin couldn’t bear to quash his hopes. But somehow, the simple question of “do you want sausage or eggs?” had Aaron blurting everything out over breakfast one morning in his Senior year of highschool. “Oh, I know,” said his father, and that was that. After high school, Aaron got a job as a carpenter–one that he’d practically been training for his whole life–and began dating without hesitation; everyone he brought home, he swore was the one. To him, everyone he dated was his soulmate, and every breakup was the end of his love life for good–at least until the next one came along.

While working as a carpenter, Aaron met Benjamin Solas, an overly enthusiastic manager who worked part time as the owner of a local event center. When Benjamin caught Aaron watching a soap opera that the client had “left on” during a house call and saw the starry-eyed look in his eyes during the marriage sequence, Benjamin invited him to the center to do some woodwork for the next wedding altar. From that day forward, Aaron was given an open invitation to help with the ceremonies, and by the end of the month, he had wiggled his way into a sort of apprenticeship in management. There, he met the wedding planner and the other members of Benjamin’s team, and found that he rather liked being part of the festivities. And if he had a bit of a crush on Benjamin–the two had so much in common, after all–he never spoke a word of it.

Aaron watched from the sidelines as Benjamin dated with far more luck than Aaron ever had, and when Benjamin got into a serious relationship, Aaron was truly happy for him–even if it came with a bit of a sting. A few months later, Benjamin announced that his adoption papers–which only Aaron had ever known about (Benjamin had insisted on keeping it a secret, always leaving Aaron in charge when he had to run off to meet an expecting mother)–had finally gone through. Soon, he would be moving to the suburbs to raise his family away from the chaos of LA. Benjamin planned to sell the center, but Aaron couldn’t stomach to let it go; the center had become his home, a place he’d learn to love as much–if not more–than Benjamin himself. So before Benjamin’s sale could go through, Aaron put enough money together for a loan and bought it himself. (Of course, it helped that Benjamin gave him such a suspiciously good deal).

Today, Aaron is the proud owner of Sagrada Hall, though he has kept up his job as a carpenter on the side to pay for the loan and his college tuition. It’s slow going–he only has the time for night classes–but it helps to love what he’s doing (even if it is exhausting). In the store room of the Hall, Aaron has hung the first dollar he ever made after Benjamin’s departure and will often go seek it out as a reminder of what it’s all for, a reminder of his mother’s strength, and a little something to quench the nerves.

Connections:

The Planner: A mind is not an easy thing to change, nor is it something the Owner wants to change about The Planner. Even if they don’t always see eye to eye, they still value each other’s opinions. If anything they both pose a refreshing point of view when the meaning of weddings come up.

The Florist: If the Owner was ever asked if they had a platonic soulmate, it would be the Florist. The Florist is the only other person in the group as passionate about weddings as the Owner is. The two are often seen in a corner at the wedding, in awe of the party they put together, and hopefully the happiness they’ll bring to the new couple.

The Other Server: Sometimes all you need is a bit of guidance, and the Owner thinks that’s all the Other Server needs. At least that’s what they think. If the Other Server ever comes around needing an ear, the Owner is happy to give it to them. Sometimes the two will talk or even sit in peaceful silence as they paint a couple of new chairs (to replace the ones the Server and the Drummer broke while trying to skate over them).

#bio #bio: the owner #the owner

It looks like someone RSVP’d, but didn’t show!

Sorry you missed the party! Maybe we’ll see you at the next one? Unfollow those below.

Our DJ Franklin had another event to attend. The DJ is now OPEN

Our Drummer Wes had another event to attend. The Drummer is now OPEN

Thank you for being such wonderful guests! Unfollow the guests below.

Our guest Camila has gone onto her honeymoon!

Our guest Tobias has gone on his honeymoon!

Our guest Antoine has moved onto his next event!

#rsvpunfollow

Do you have an app count currently? I had a quick look and couldn't see one but I'd love to apply - torn as to who (between the two open characters, haha) but I'd love to nonetheless.

We do! If you click the little link in our sidebar next to App Count it will lead you to the correct page or click here. We do have one app in the inbox right now, but don’t let that deter you from applying as the character of your choice! I can’t wait to see your app.

#question #Anonymous

Tobias ( Sam Claflin ) and Camila ( Barbara Palvin ) are a young couple looking to start their family and make their love for one another official through a grand wedding for their friends and family. Tobias is a member of the prominent Quinn family, who are very fond of Camila and more than happy to contribute to the wedding’s budget to make the event memorable.

Camila requests the presence of ocelots (preferably at least one as a ring bearer and one as a flower ocelot). The theme would be a mixture of elements Anastasia (the animated film), general alien themes, and again ocelots. She would also like to request a candy bar, various music boxes at each table, edible Fabergé eggs for each guest, Together in Paris necklace wedding favors, a stage for karaoke and a prepared secret performance dedicated to her fiance. Camila is glad to help and will likely bring her own party favors to contribute (in the form of toy dinosaur sponge eggs in cups and alien eggs hidden in the hall). Tobias’ main request is the presence of a wildlife expert to care for the animals, and a strict all black dress code.

Guests joining us this week will be

Tobias Quinn (Groom)

Camila Beaumont (Bride)

Antoine Liseaux (Wildlife Expert)

#rsvpfollow #rsvpevent #the wildlife expert's link will be posted soon

It looks like someone RSVP’d, but didn’t show!

There’s still time to get to the reception! Just a warning, let us know if you need a hiatus.

Can our DJ Franklin make it back in time? You’re 12 days late.

Can our Drummer Wes make it back in time? You’re 8 days late.

Can our Other Server Finley make it back in time? You’re 5 days late.

#rsvpunfollow #(not exactly bc there's no one that needs to be unfollowed but that's the tag)

❝Always hard to see past the surface, when it looks so perfect, but our eyes will disguise dirt on purpose.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Finley Davenport

Pronouns ; She/Her

Age ; Twenty-Three

to RSVP

Hometown ; Montecito, CA

Occupation ; Cater Server

Faceclaim ; Carlson Young

By all outer appearances, Finley’s childhood was nearly perfect, the picture of upper class suburban America. She’d never known loss or want in her life, and any refusals for something from her parents could often be dissolved by a few bats of her eyelashes and carefully placed pleading. The Davenports were always at her school events when they were needed, themselves often judgmental of parents that couldn’t keep up appearances as well as they could. For a young child, the lack of warmth between her parents wasn’t unusual at all. Finley never knew marriage to be any other way.

Of course, for the most part, Finley’s main concern was in material objects and attention. The former she got plenty of - the latter, not so much. While her parents were always there for her physically, affection wasn’t something she was given often. There were kisses on the head from her father and occasional hugs from her mother, but never anything like the close heart to hearts she saw on television or in movies. After school specials were make believe, fabricated emotions to get lessons across to viewers. Finley tried not to want it, and she succeeded for the most part, placing her desires in things. Toys, lessons, activities - anything that her parents could buy. The toys kept her attention for the most time, and the other things got her parents’ attention, even if it was for small bouts of time. Her trophies and photos lined the frames of the house, and she always felt a deep sense of pride when her parents bragged to anyone that would listen about their perfect little girl.

Despite the lack of emotional support, Finley loved her life. She was popular among her friends, had everything an adolescent girl could want that money could buy, and parents that touted her as their most prized possession. It was at thirteen, just on the verge of entering high school, that her picture perfect life was ruined. A boring, lower middle class man had stolen her mother’s heart, and her parents were getting a divorce. For her mother, the decision was simple. The cold, distant relationship she had with Finley’s father was nothing in comparison to what she had with John. Finley was no stranger to divorce. For her friends, it meant two houses, two bedrooms, two sets of toys and two of every holiday. Some part of her was almost optimistic - even if her family would be broken apart, she would have things to make up for it.

Unfortunately for Finley, even the divorce didn’t go as planned. Her father never fought for custody, joint or otherwise. The huge room she’d grown up in was traded for a tiny one across town, a block from the coffee shop her step father owned. Her father picked up and moved across the country to New York, where the stock business would be more profitable, anyway. To make matters worse, her mother announced that she was going to be a big sister. Finley could hardly handle losing her lifestyle, her toys and friends and even her father, and she fell apart when she realized that the focused attention she’d always had was being ripped from her as well. As expected, much of the attention was taken from her, and she had to share a bedroom with her new sibling.

High school was horrible for Finley. Her private school friends hardly had time for her, and she eventually stopped asking when they saw the tiny house she lived in and outlet clothes she wore. Her father sent a minimal amount of money, stating that she would only get more once her trust fund was released to her at eighteen. The elite status she had at her previous school was gone, and she had to start from scratch. Luckily, Finley still had a few things that she’d inherited and perfected all her life - a sharp tongue, a poker face, and a guarded heart.

The friendships she forged in her new school were like those her parents had - political, strategic, and distant. Finley tried out for the cheerleading team her freshman year, her gymnastics background making her a shoe-in. She climbed her way to captain by her junior year, adding the extra curricular to her multiple others. Her academic standing wasn’t what it had always been, but it was enough to get her into a decent school.

After coasting her way through college with a business major - the one thing her mother felt she was barely smart enough to achieve, and her father would be proud of - she was at a loss for what to do with her life. She had access to her trust fund while she was attending college, but unless she secured a job within six months of graduating, her father would put it on hold. Finley refused to live with her mother, step father and half sister again, and she immediately sought out a job at one of her favorite boutiques. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold the part time job for long - or the few she found after that. It wasn’t until she found a job as a wedding caterer server that her irregular schedule and general frustration with human interaction didn’t make her lose her job.

While it’s far from her dream career, Finley plans to work with the wedding crew until she can find something better. Though she doesn’t get along well with everyone in the group, she’s civil enough to keep her job, not willing to risk the loss of her trust fund and a home away from the family she can’t stand.

Connections:

The Server: For some reason The Server is more tolerable than the rest of the wedding crew, especially because they’re usually in a sharing mood. And when the Other Server is high it’s a bit harder for them to hold onto that cold and sometimes mean exterior.

The Owner: Though it annoys them to no end, the Other Server has to admit the Owner is like a father figure for them. After their mother left (and dragged the Other Server along), their father hasn’t so much as tried to call. Sometimes when the Other Server needs advice, they’ll find a roundabout way to ask the Owner.

The Drummer: One of the most annoying things to the Other Server is the Drummer who constantly has their drumsticks playing out a beat on literally any flat surface, along with a multitude of other annoying idiosyncrasies. They’re not sure when, but The Other Server knows that one day they’re going to lost their patience with them and snap their drumsticks in half, or worse.

#bio #bio: the other server #the other server

click the image above to see the updated app count {+1}

#app count

❝You seem to replace your brain with your heart. You take things so hard, and then you fall apart.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Michael Butera

Pronouns ; He/Him

Age ; Thirty

to RSVP

Hometown ; Orlando, FL

Occupation ;Freelancer

Faceclaim ; Matthew Daddario

“No.”

Growing up, Michael couldn’t have heard this word any more than he did. He never got used to it though. As he matured, this constant hammering through his head that he wasn’t good enough or that he couldn’t have what he wanted tore him down more than he would admit. Sure, maybe his passions and dreams were a little more unique than most. Maybe instead of dashing around in a hospital he preferred to dash around nature sights near the city, DSLR in hand, and maybe instead of sitting around in law firms he preferred to sit around on photoshop, recolouring his pictures. But did that really have to mean that they were inevitably impossible?

People thought so. No one talked to him much while he was in school, finding his interests a little weird. His parents had high academic expectations of him, because he was going to get “a professional degree, by hook or by crook”. Michael didn’t want to fight his parents; he knew they only wanted the best for him, so he begrudgingly obeyed. Perhaps he learnt at an early age that sometimes what you want isn’t what you need - whether that’s accurate or not - or maybe he was just never a fighter. He couldn’t look people in the eye without turning away awkwardly, couldn’t tell someone that was annoying him to leave him alone, and very obviously couldn’t walk up to his parents and tell them he’d do what he want. And what’s the point of an arrow without its bow? But he couldn’t really help himself when he still snuck out to capture the 5a.m. sunrise, the 2p.m. sea and the 7p.m. sunset. It was his calling, he felt. It was the only place he was safe.

Michael continued on to finish his degree in accountancy, just like his parents wanted him to. Took up a 9-to-5 job, and slogged his days off cramped up in a cubicle in a nondescript company. Still, he created a blog in his free time to post all his photography, which was mostly nature, but sometimes posted pictures of his own office. His neighbouring cubicle inhabitants got used to it pretty quickly, throwing up peace signs the second he picked up his camera. Sometimes they even photobombed his shots, but he never minded that. On the contrary, he smiled when that happened because at least someone cared, and no one thought he was insane (save for a couple older ones).

A couple of years passed, and he began accumulating a respectable following on his blog. One day, someone sent him a message on his blog, offering a job in photography for weddings. Even he was surprised that he was offered such a stable job in photography, to just form a group with a bunch of organisers and go around organising weddings. He didn’t have to consider for long - he was 27, knew what he wanted, and finally, for once, no one would stop him. He resigned, packed up and prepared to join this group.

To say his parents were happy for him would be an outright lie. “You will suffer,” his father reminded him. He was potent to Michael, which he found fitting for a name like Arsenio. His mother nodded along with his father. She wouldn’t stand up to him. Though she never saw it, Michael always drew parallels to her name and personality, much like he did with his father. Just like her name, Cecilia, she was blind to this battle that he fought with his father, including their backhanded compliments, the way he looked down on his job, and the way that he, no, his father, seemed unable to recognise him anymore. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting flowers and confetti, but this reaction was extremely unexpected, even for him. But he’d come so far already, and he knew that if he conceded defeat yet again, he’d never have a chance to win this game again. So, looking ahead, he began a process of reshaping his identity. No more would he let his parents take the wheel in his life, he was in charge now. And how long it took him, to finally let the world know exactly who he is! He felt like a fifteen year old, walking into his new job with a fresh mindset and the naivety of a wide eyed boy stepping into the city for the first time.

It was probably the most reckless decision he’d ever made, and still, his life continued to be far from perfect. It was a moment somewhere in the middle of the first wedding that he was the photographer for when it hit him - the way he was feeling right then was the same as the way he felt in high school. There were people around him up and about, fretting about, while he was just there, shooting photos from the outside looking in. The crew barely knew him or talked to him, and they had no reason to. They were the life, and he was a still. They were the present, and he was but a fleeting memory, just like he probably was to his parents.

Now he rarely talks, although when he does there’s no stopping him, and people are always extra careful with their words around him. He finds himself unsure if he really knows his coworkers as they are, rather than some censored, filtered person. As much as he wishes for best friends, he’s insecure about the friendships he forged within the company. But when his favourite wedding song plays towards the end of the night, he can’t help but feel that this was what he is meant for. When his camera is in his hands, be it while he’s doing his usual shots for his blog or crouching behind a bench to try and capture a couples’ first kiss as a married couple, he can’t help but feel that everything he’s done before, or will do now, is and will be worth it.

Connections:

The DJ: It’s hard for the Photographer not to smile when the DJ plays their favorite wedding song, winking after the Photographer whips their head around when the familiar song starts to play. The two had a one-night stand at the first wedding they worked together, but haven’t done anything since then because the Photographer doesn’t want to ruin their professional relationship in the event that things don’t work out.

The Bassist: Being a more sullen person, the Bassist is easy for the Photographer to get along with. They don’t have to pretend to be as alive and happy and “the world is love and rainbows” around them because the Bassist knows what it’s like to be an introvert in a group of extroverts. The two get along well mostly because they don’t actually speak to each other much, just enjoy each others’ silent company.

The Singer: The Photographer isn’t sure if the Singer is an annoyance or a friend. They try their hardest to make the Photographer feel like part of the group, but they can’t help but feel like the Singer is trying too hard.

#bio #bio: the photographer #the photographer

❝Last night I did things my mother told me not to.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Greer Eden Luo

Pronouns ; They/Them&She/Her

Age ; Twenty-Two

to RSVP

Hometown ; Hickory, NC

Occupation ; Vet Student

Faceclaim ; Kelsey Chow

Greer grew up in a small town where most people knew each other. Not simply in the cliche way of every one knowing each other’s business but everyone seems connected. A stranger could only be a stranger for seconds until they revealed their mother’s name, current address, or where they buy their fresh produce. Everyone seemed to have opinions of another’s life and she couldn’t stand the idea of her life being so transparent. Especially when they barely knew the inner-workings of their mind, heart, and soul. When she turned seventeen the fogginess of her identity because more clear, not completely, but she knew that she didn’t feel right being kept in a box. As far as gender and sexuality was concerned: she simply wanted to explore.

To be so different after so many years of “fitting in” or “blending” she worried of what the realization would bring so she turned to smoking. At first it was an escape or something she referred to as her personal invisibility cloak (just like the one from Harry Potter. A series she whole-heartedly believes is way better when high.) but with the years it became her way of taking a break from worry and overthinking. She often felt the most at one with herself when a joint was placed between her thin digits. The habit only harmed their performance in school which they didn’t let eat at them too much. Most in the town and in their family unit expected Greer to fail. It was in her nature to be dodgy and unaware of the world around. As a high school drop out and fresh-faced twenty year old she traveled to Los Angeles via hitchhiking and long bus rides. While traveling her side habit helped her connect to proper strangers.

After a few months of being in the city they realized they wanted more from life. Simply roughing it and living like a mutt on the streets did not feel as freeing as she hoped. They worked as many side jobs as they could while working towards their GED. Once she received the diploma she took her passion for animals and began looking into career options centered around creatures. Greer applied to a local community college after researching the requirements of becoming a veterinarian. She applied for the wedding server position a month or so after when she read a flyer that promised reasonable hours. They had never given much thought to weddings but free food and the promise of conversation with strangers gave her all the reasons they needed to apply.

Connections:

The Other Server: Outside of work, the Other Server is who they hang out with the most. Maybe it’s because the Other Server never judges them for their recreational activities or maybe it’s because they're really good at blowing out smoke rings. All the Server knows is they feel good around them.

The Caterer: More often than not, the Server will go out with a platter with at least three hors d'oeuvres missing and if the Caterer catches them, they’re in for some scolding. After working together for so long, the Caterer knows to bring extra everything.

The Florist: The Server has been trying to catch the Florist’s eye for some time now, but the Florist always seems to be just out of reach. Even if they happen to be the last two in the room, the Florist will make up some excuse and run out like a bat out of hell. The Server wouldn’t be so offended if they knew what they did wrong, but in order to find out if they did, the Florist would actually have to talk to them, which doesn’t seem too likely.

#bio #bio: the server #the server

❝In all chaos, there is calculation; dropping glasses just to hear them break.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Rosamund DiMarco

Pronouns ; She/Her

Age ; Thirty

to RSVP

Hometown ; Anaheim, CA

Occupation ; Foodtruck owner

Faceclaim ; Troian Bellisario

“No no no, do it again!” Every week it was the same order barked at a young Rose. Every week she was told that she was not enough, that she wasn’t doing it perfectly, thus leaving it to be completely wrong. ‘A lack of finesse’ she was deemed as having. It wasn’t Rosamund’s fault, what was she to do? Berating had become somewhat of a second conversation between her and her weekly ballet teacher. Every time that she was screamed at, she would simply try again. Persevere through the storm and try to better herself. Though the teacher was harsh, Rosamund understood that it was to make her a better dancer. It was to make her the best of the best, the crème de la crème. Even though there possibly was a kinder way to teach, it would not have taught her the resilience that she needed. Why come all this way through being put down, to only fall when your feet hurt a little? The way which her teacher had taught had been slightly unconventional, yes, but as Rosamund grew older, she began to understand her teacher more and more.

Until the age of sixteen, Rosamund’s entire life was ballet. Her parents would attend every recital, little brother irritated beside them. Another day of watching girls in tutus prance about. He didn’t understand it, the beauty of the dance, but that was okay. Rosamund didn’t mind that her brother – or any of her family – really understood it. She didn’t need them to understand it, she just needed them to accept it. It was on Christmas Eve of her sixteenth year of existence that her family were no longer required to accept it. The roads were icy, too icy to be out driving late at night, but her Nutcracker recital was the best one yet, and her parents wouldn’t have dreamed of missing it. In the back seat, she basked in the glory of her parent’s compliments, while her brother poked fun and pulled faces in the seat beside her. Despite the immaturity that her thirteen-year-old sibling displayed, she couldn’t get rid of the glow that emitted from her skin. Of the smile that was showcased proudly upon her face. It was during the point that she and her brother began kicking each other that it all went black.

Waking up three hours later, in a hospital bed that smelled of alcohol and a ward filled with childlike images on the wall, Rosamund knew. She just knew that she was done for, her career as a world renowned ballet dancer was over before it had even begun. And when she looked down to find a white cast binding her leg together, a tear rolled down her cheek. Her mother was at her side instantly, bathing her only daughter in an obscene amount of kisses. A croaky voice broke out from a prison of chapped lips, and the question on her father and brother’s location was posed. Her brother had abandoned her bedside for a soda, which hadn’t surprised Rosamund in the slightest, though the location of her father was still a mystery to the young girl.

Two weeks later, they buried him. A hole in the ground next to the one belonging to her paternal grandmother. Her mother broke down, wailing that it was unfair, while her brother simply stood there, refusing to move a muscle. Rosamund didn’t cry, she had lost so much in the past two weeks that it seemed redundant to still be crying by this point. All the tears within her had dried up, though they still left stains upon her cheeks. The day that she buried her father, her dream of becoming a ballerina was buried with him. Now six foot under, it was clear that she would have to find something else to do, and it was during a zombie phase of classes that she happened upon it.

Sophomore year was somewhat of a blur. At least after the new year. Everything seemed as though it was in slow-motion, almost. The days would pass her by and she had nothing to do. Nothing to say. Everybody understood, of course, though they treated her like a broken bird. A long shot away from the girl who could make a room light with her smile, and attended class every day with a colour-coded binder full to the brim of notes on the topic. There was one person who still tried, however. Still tried to retrieve Rosamund from the dark place in which she resided. “I lost my parents at your age.” The woman had told her. “I didn’t get out of bed for six weeks, simply refused.” Her home economics teacher was a woman of only twenty-five, with auburn hair and a constant smell of vanilla. “Try this,” An A4 piece of paper was handed to her, “It was the only thing I ate, too.” It was unconventional, giving Rosamund a recipe. She debated ripping it into shreds for a while, pondering the mere notion that someone could be familiar with the emptiness that she felt inside. Something told her not to, however, so at two in the morning in the midst of another insomniac night, she cooked.

Maybe it was the food. Maybe it was that she was the first teacher to actually talk to Rose. Maybe it was just that it was beginning to hurt less. Whatever it was, something had clicked within her that night. Nearing her seventeenth birthday, it seemed as though she was returning to the girl she was twelve months ago. It started with cooking the basics, before it evolved into developing recipes from a book. Soon, she was inventing her own meals. Hosting dinner parties for her family of three, laughing over a dauphinoise potato. Slowly the colour seemed to return into her eyes. Rose was growing to be a phoenix. Rising from the ashes of the girl she was, and becoming a woman to be proud of.

After consulting with her Home Ec teacher for seemingly weeks on end, each day growing more and more panicked at her future, when the letter came. The Art Institute of California would like to offer you a place at our San Diego campus. That one sentence allowed all the emotion from her weeks of anticipation to flow. Emotion that was still left from the death of her father and her prospected career were all culminating within her, leaving Rose to sob uncontrollably while she grinned at the thought of the future that would await her.

Even now, she isn’t sure how she got into catering. It started as helping out a college friend who was a caterer, and simply developed from there. After working with them for a year, learning tricks of the trade from her friend’s family business, Rose decided to set it out alone. Start her own catering company in Anaheim, promising a wonderful menu providing that she was allowed creative control. She would take away an element of stress from the wedding party, and wasn’t that what they were all there for? Her brother had come back from college with a business degree, and somewhere between the second and third drink of the night, it was decided that they would go into business together. His money skills and her cooking, they would be an unstoppable force. Everybody loves a family business, so DiMarco Dining was born.

On days that weddings aren’t needing her attention, Rose can be found inside of the truck. A white coat that usually ends up stained in whatever food that the siblings decided to fight in. Keeping the truck in Anaheim, Rose is able to live her own life while checking up on her mother, spending as much time with the woman as she could. Isla never remarried after the death of Rose’s father, so she knows that her mother must be feeling at least a little lonely. Whether she’s only there for an hour or whether she’s falling asleep in her high school bed, she likes to spend as much time as she can with her mother. Though she’d never say it to her mother or brother, Rose harbours a lot of guilt in regards to the death of her father, which is the entire basis for her needing all weddings she caters to go off perfectly. If they get only a short time together, then it is her duty to ensure they get off to a good start; if that means dragging the band up to the stage by the earlobes and reprimanding the DJ for attempting to knock yet another tray of hors d’oeuvres then so be it.

Connections:

The Florist: The Florist is probably the kindest in the group and the most open to suggestion. For every wedding the Florist and the Caterer work together, it’s practically guaranteed that the food and the flowers will match perfectly, both in color and mood.

The DJ: The DJ can be a bit of a goof, always trying to get people on the dance floor at any cost, but sometimes their antics get them in trouble, especially with the Caterer. If they knock over one more dish doing the electric slide, the Caterer will serve their head on a platter.

The Server: No matter how prepared the Caterer thinks they are, the Server always proves them wrong by eating at least half a tray of appetizers before the guests even arrive. The Server can tend to make the Caterer’s life difficult, but once they hit the Caterer with their full out puppy eyes, the Caterer can’t help but sigh and wave them off to arrange the salads.

#bio #bio: the caterer #the caterer

❝Power and control, I’m gonna make you fall.❞

please remember

Full Name ; Leigh Morris

Pronouns ; She/Her

Age ; Thirty

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Hometown ; Sacramento, CA

Occupation ; Party Planner

Faceclaim ; Aja Naomi King

When Simon and Freya Morris announced their divorce after twenty-six years of marriage, everyone who knew them – friends, family and colleagues alike – were absolutely shocked. Aside from the length of time they have stayed married, the Morrises were seen as one of the perfect families in town – happily married couple with five successful children, the nice house in the suburbs and the respectable neighborhood coffee shop. While that can be considered the truth twenty years ago, it has been a long time since they have been an ideal family, whether or not the family themselves realized it. However, Leigh did notice the cracks of their household very early on, making her one of the few people who weren’t all too surprised when her parents decided to end their marriage.

Leigh is the second oldest child in her family, coming after her oldest sister Gail, who was four years old when Leigh was born. For a couple of years, it had been just the two of them, and life as a family of four was picture perfect as far as she could recall. Having only one other sibling at the time, the two sisters were close growing up. The two would share their toys and have extravagant tea parties. When they started going to the same school, Gail never pushed Leigh away despite being in different years. The years they shared as just the two of them established a strong bond that has stood the test of time, even during the toughest time their family has faced.

While they had lived comfortably as a small family, three new additions – though not unwanted – added a wrench in the family’s finances, especially with their mom having to quit her job as a nurse to take care of the babies. No longer being the youngest sibling, Leigh, along with Gail, began helping out their mother more with running the household as their father began to focus more on the coffee shop. During the summer, the two even began a small babysitting business with some of Gail’s friends to earn some money for the family; being the youngest in the team, Leigh was in charge of scheduling the activities while Gail and her friends executed the plan. When their father called Gail to start helping out in the coffee shop, Leigh took over the business with her own friends.

Despite the two sisters doing what they can to help, that didn’t stop their parents from arguing, first about money, then the little things in the house, then about each other. Though they tried to hide it when any of their children were around, the older sisters knew better, and Leigh could pick up the signs that things between her parents were falling apart. She noticed how the date nights stopped, how the affectionate pecks disappeared, how they rarely spend time in the same room together unless all the kids were there. When many of her friends’ parents started to split, Leigh started fearing her parents’ as well. She threw herself into her studies to distract herself from the idea, taking up AP classes as soon as she could and joining various clubs, including student council. Another welcome distraction was her then-boyfriend Logan.

They were from the same neighborhood and went to the same school; they hung out in similar circles, but the two were particularly close as both of them were older siblings in their respective families. They shared with each other the trials of taking care of their siblings but how they would do anything for them regardless; they like spending time with each other because it was a break from their responsibilities but each of them would understand if one had to leave suddenly for a family emergency. So when Logan asked Leigh to go out with him, she didn’t hesitate to say yes, and when they became an item starting the eighth grade, no one was surprised. They shared a lot of firsts together, and to this day, Leigh doesn’t regret loving Logan. He had been there for her during her best and worst times; she wasn’t afraid of letting loose around him after a long day. He had been her rock, the one who would tell her to let things she couldn’t control go, and for a while that was what she needed.

By senior year however, Leigh needed something else. Gail had decided to forego college in order to help out at home and in the coffee shop. While Gail had been content with that, Leigh refused to go down the same road. She worked hard to pull up her GPA, spent more time executing projects for the clubs she was in, and applied for scholarships to colleges around the country. Though Logan would protest the amount of work Leigh was taking in, she had already planned her schedule meticulously to cover all of her school, work, family and girlfriend duties. But the more Logan showed concern over his girlfriend’s workload, the more Leigh realized that though she found comfort in his words, they no longer tug her heartstrings; that though she cared for him, who she was right now didn’t love him as much who she was before did. He was the anchor that grounded her, but that was no longer what she needed, and she knew then she had to break up with him, making him the first of her relationships she had cherished and let go for the same reason.

After graduating with honors, Leigh went on to study in UC Berkeley, which was close enough to home but not completely. Taking up business administration, Leigh knew she could use the skills to help the family business, but in the back of her head she wanted something more from it – she wanted an empire, as she knew she was capable of nothing less. Where she wanted to start it however was less clear in her head, but that was quickly resolved when her oldest sister announced that she was getting married to her high school sweetheart. Though their family was in a much better position than before, a big wedding wasn’t in the picture, but in Leigh’s opinion, her sister deserved a great wedding, and a small working budget shouldn’t stop her from having one. So, to save money on a planner, Leigh volunteered to be her sister’s, and after many phone calls, Google searches, checklists and meetings, she managed to organize a vibrant celebration of her sister’s marriage.

Although Leigh herself wasn’t too keen on marriages after hearing so many of them fail, a fire in her ignited after seeing all her plans come together and giving her sister and her new brother-in-law a day to remember. And if she were to be honest, it was quite the ego boost when the guests complimented the overall event. When Leigh started receiving messages from friends and acquaintances asking her if she can help them out with their events, some even willing to pay her to do so, the hurdle in her path to success suddenly cleared, and she knew then that this was what she wanted to do. Since then, she started to accept requests to plan events, mostly weddings of her sister’s friends. When Gail’s friends started referring Leigh to their friends and friend’s friends, Leigh started to see the foundations of her empire being set.

As soon as Leigh graduated from university, she invested herself in the small empire she was building. She took short internships where she could learn more about events management, and enrolled in some specialized courses. When she was prepared, she got a business license to make her one-woman business official. Work just came pouring in afterwards, and while it occasionally got crazy, Leigh thrived in the challenge of time, money and people. Though being organized and an exceptional planner was one of the skills of the trade, Leigh believes that it is her knack of listening to and understand people is what made her successful. After all, people are much harder to manage than time and money, and in her line of work, she had to handle her clients, their families, different service partners and the guests of the wedding itself.

Initially, Leigh based her business in Sacramento, where she found great success, having established great connections and a network of clients and partners that made her business what it was. But as always, Leigh wanted to expand her empire, and while Sacramento was great, slowly it seemed like a lake when her goals were the size of the sea. In order to make them happen, Leigh began taking on jobs outside Sacramento, slowly building up her portfolio and her network. It didn’t take long for her to realize that the big money was in the state’s most prolific city – Los Angeles. So, when she was twenty-seven, Leigh took the plunge and decided to move to Los Angeles. Being new to city with relatively fewer connections than in Sacramento, Leigh had to basically start from scratch, with the first challenge being finding partners she could call to provide the right services her future clients would need.

Before Leigh realized it, she found herself a crazy group of people, almost as crazy as some of her guests could get, yet she couldn’t get herself to let them go because despite their hiccups, she knew when things got tough, she could rely on them to pull off quality work in the end, and that was what she wanted her empire to be built upon. But more than just partners she could trust, she’s started to see them as her second family, and that both warmed her heart and caused her to worry if the little thing they have going on would have an end, too.

Connections:

The Owner: The Owner and The Planner don’t usually get along. Though the Planner creates other people’s dream weddings as a career, they don’t actually believe in marriage. The Owner however is a bit of a hopeless romantic and thinks that marriage isn’t so bad if it's between the right people, but the Planner fights them on it at every wedding they do together. The banter is welcome within the group, though.

The Bartender: The Bartender pretty much keeps everyone sane during their events by supplying a steady stream of alcohol, but they’re The Planner’s secret weapon. If a bridesmaid threatens to overshadow the bride, the Planner sends her over to the bar for the Bartender to keep them occupied. It also helps that the Bartender isn’t too crazy about weddings or marriage either.

The DJ: The Planner considers the DJ the life of the party --from a purely profession point of view, of course. Without music, no one's dancing, and if no one's dancing, everyone's listening to the Bride's drunk uncle talking about her worst Spring Break. From a personal point of view, they do suppose the DJ can manage to wrestle a smile from them on occasion.

#bio #bio: the planner #the planner

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