#bkevent01

[giannacarcone]

The day the Kovalis had been talking about since the moment their eldest son was imprisoned had finally arrived: his homecoming. It wasn’t often that Cassidy was permitted to attend an event like this without working, and though she had no doubt that there would be eyes watching her tonight, the party provided her with more freedom than she had been lucky enough to enjoy in quite some time. She looked pretty, she wore a dress that cost more money than she’d seen in years, both of those thanks to the Kovali queen herself. You have to look presentable, the woman expressed in a note left with the garment bag on her bed the night before. It was like some sort of fucked up Cinderella story.

Nevertheless, there she was at the biggest gathering Navy Pier had seen in months, determined to enjoy every second of her quasi-freedom. “The prodigal son returns,” she murmured before red-painted lips met the rim of her champagne flute yet again. She was more than a few drinks in at this point, and why shouldn’t she be? Cass was going to milk this night for all that it was worth.

[shadowyavuz]

open || outside the conservatory

Alp didn’t normally smoke—if years of coaches’ lecturing hadn’t turned him away from it, his mother’s diagnosis definitely would’ve—but there were some times when being able to step away from the action, to use the excuse of a cigarette to hang back and observe, came in handy.

Like now, as he stood just outside the conservatory door, the night breeze off the lake carrying a breath of smoke away as he flicked ash off the ember. The huge windows made it easy to see inside, and so although his body was angled toward the ash can, he could still keep an eye on things—make sure Wes stayed safe, see how all the guests interacted with each other, try to figure out if the Kovali were as happy to have their eldest son back as they wanted people to believe.

But when someone else stepped through the door, Alp looked to them instead, offering the cigarette case from his inside coat pocket. “Need a light?”

[thehxtshxt]

Loc: Navy Pier, Mirror Maze entrance. OPEN.

As a designated member of the family, Valentine Marshall had to attend the coming home party for dear Eldar. Of course; it wasn’t that Val wasn’t happy that Eldar was out of prison; he was simply not in the mood to deal with a drunk crowd. He already had enough of it at The Cabaret- and the last thing he wanted to do was fall into the role of the bouncer. As fate would have it; he was already standing guard at the nearest entrance to one of the mirror mazes; and he felt like an idiot in the three piece suit he donned for the evening. It was either stand here; or mingle in the conservatory with the folk he’d rather not touch. And perhaps his motive was a little be less ‘i-hate-parties’ and more ‘where-the-fuck-is-Archie.’ 

Sentry he was, hands tucked into his pockets, gun tucked at the small of his back underneath the lapels of his coat, desolate gaze scanning every face that passed with a tight lipped smile as if he were simply enjoying the view- of the wall ahead. As a drink sloshed down his front, his hand shot out to grab the wrist attached to it- “mind watching what you’re doing there?”

[eldarkovali-blog]

All that glitters is not gold. Eldar knew that his Father didn’t embody sympathy. A true body of power would only view it as a weakness. Emotions got in the way of too many important decisions that could cause destruction and demise. Logic was more understandable. Half of the man knew that this party was not to be served as a sorry to his son. Eldar knew that this was about being unified. To show their enemies that the Kovali’s were now solid and what better way to do so then throwing a Welcome back gathering for the oldest son. He didn’t want this but the man anticipated it. It was a smart and justified mood of his Father. But, it didn’t heal the open wound for Eldar. That only would be done by having things go back to normal. Before, his whole world felt apart. His devotion wasn’t served. And even with that hole in his heart, Eldar was still here. He was loyal even after all these years. Especially now, with the aftermath. Even though he would continue to stand by his family and their choices, that didn’t mean that he had to take too much of an initiative.

 There was only so much he could take. He knew there would be whispers and constant, repetitive questions. Being alone for so long. Eldar seemed to become way more accustomed to not seeking that kind of attention. So, he found himself being pleasant but drifting away from the crowds to a more peaceful scenery. Of course not without a bottle of Whiskey held securely in his hand. Something he had missed dearly. Eyes peered across the water. The fresh air brought solace. He was free. A feeling that the man was afraid deep down that could vanish in the blink of an eye. Obviously, he was a master of appearances. Like Father, Like Son. “I hope your excuse is better then that the line for the Ferris wheel is too long.” He knew why he had separated himself from the crowd but assumed the other’s wasn’t similar, but nonetheless slowly turning towards his company. 

[nicpclltier]

It burnt , her eyes, her throat and it seemed with every given turn, the inferno around her loomed higher, the brazen glow of the amber flames flickering shadows all the more eerie the deeper she went --- the further she clawed for an exit. “C..-- Cassidy? --- Vinny?” The rough wheeze of her voice broken as she coughed into the crook of her elbow, the dress she wore didn’t exactly allow for any sense of protection from the smoke in her lungs, with little more than her hand to cover her mouth. “Isek?”  They’d been in here somewhere, though how long it’d been since she’d seen either of them was entirely up in the air. A sharp turn to her right blinded her, the petite brunette staggering back slightly, the raging flicker of flame climbing the edge the walls of the maze viciously, but when she’d whipped around to find another way, she plowed into another, “-- Dead end.” Nic spluttered, shoving at their shoulder in some effort to get them to turn around. “It’s a fucking dead end, move before we get fucking fried.”

[bloodkingdomrp]

→This just in...

Good evening Chicago! We here at ABC 7 just received word that no more than thirty minutes ago, Navy Pier was bombed by an unknown group. As first responders and our fire department battle the flames to help get trapped guests out, the death toll has been marked around 25. This number is expected to climb. Host and notable businessman Rafal Kovali has been transported, alongside his wife. to Northwestern Memorial Hospital following serious injuries in the blast. Details remain murky... 

...Among that missing person list is Zephyr Jackson, local club owner, and Ismael De La Torre, owner of Cargo Exports, as well as....

We urge anyone with information to contact the police department at 911, and will keep you updated as information reaches our news desk.

It didn’t stop there. In the smoke, a few faction members seized an opportunity. Armed and ready, they dragged the unconscious bodies of the Contractor and the Cataclysmic to a nearby van... after all, with the King and Queen near death, it was time to make sure the chain of command toppled in on itself. Cut the head off the snake. They awoke in the Sigara Warehouses, arms and legs bound to metal, with hungry Faction members waiting to pounce for information. Hostages of this level were valuable... and they would make damn sure to squeeze every detail out before disposing them into the river...The Spy looks out at her employers, a noose tightening around her neck to do something.

CURRENTLY: Zephyr Jackson & Ismael De La Torre are being held hostage in the Sigara Warehouses. They were brought by the Faction Representatives & the Illegitimate. Remaining Kovali members and guests are fighting to stay alive on the pier, waiting for the saving grace of first responders to get to them before the fire does.The Mirror Maze is beginning to fall apart under the flames, the heat becoming unbearable... Rafal and Irena Kovali have been taken out of the fray, the ICU doing everything in their power to keep them breathing. 

[wesadler-blog]

navy pier || OPEN

A most unwelcome fly upon the wall, suddenly mingling unabashedly with the enemy masses; Wesley’s mother had always told her not to attend parties to which she was not invited, but dear mother surely had never expected her to be quite as unwelcome as she was at present. Surely they were all capable of civility -- she certainly was. But at a soiree meant to celebrate the very man who she had put behind bars, and unapologetically so, was something far beyond unwelcome. She could only imagine it to be utterly hostile. 

But she knew that she could not be squashed -- nor could she be silenced. In one hand, quarrelsome fingers tapped upon the neck of a full-to-brim champagne glass, and in the other perched a cigarette, which flew to her lips for a steeling inhale. Perhaps it would be fun to see a scene unfold. 

Or perhaps she would be the scene. Her vivid imagination had already graced her with visions of enacted revenge. But she had forgotten to care, it seemed; she stood before a viperous wonderland, small pad of paper in her breast pocket and her father’s pen tucked within. It burned against her chest, begging to be filled to the brim with secrets and lives laid bare again -- but before indulging, she would need to survive the return of its last victim. The idea of waltzing in on his homecoming, entirely unbidden, made her giddy. Perhaps her pad and pen would indulge that story for the evening. 

“One more for the road,” she hummed in a billow of smoke, voice an unabashed drawl -- she never had quite learned to be quiet -- as she propped the cigarette between her lips once more, “And champagne to wash it down. I knew I liked these parties for a reason.” Her eyes searched the undulating crowd, a shadow chasing shadows -- and dared anyone to meet her gaze. 

“Although, if I’m honest --” her lips quirked up at the corners, “-- it’d go down a bit easier with a beer.”

[jxsperlee]

location: navy pier, close to the nature conservatory who: open

Crowds of people were a bother. Crowds of people were even more of a bother when they were progressively getting more and more drunk. Perhaps Jasper was a hypocrite for mentally complaining about how much people were drinking and how loose they were bound to become when he, himself, was on his third drink of the night, but he could tell from a quick glance who were going to be the loud drunks and too much of the crowds fit that category. The noise and lights got the better of him, eventually, and Jasper attempted to make his escape to a more reserved part of the pier. Honestly, it’s like they wanted to single out someone who was coming down from a high that spanned hours with the fireworks. He was certainly not about to partake in any of that.

“Fucking... whole goddamn marching band out there with all that noise,” he muttered to himself, lifting his glass up to his lips tip sip enough so the liquid wasn’t in so much danger of slipping out. Jasper had to make that one last. He wasn’t eager to head back into the mass of bodies just yet. Jasper all but threw himself onto a bench along the edge of the hall. There were still people around, to his surprise, but ones that at least appeared more sober than the rest. “As long as no one invites that horrible band to come in here. Really, some people shouldn’t be able to purchase an instrument if all they’re going to make with it is noise.”