#cirqueevent

[invisiblebluelily-blog]

As much as she enjoyed the idea of performing and being able to show that she could attract crowds, Lily was not looking forward to performing nonstop all night, especially while everyone else was performing. The buzz of Cirque was filled with more energy than she was used to, it was none of the slinking mystery with a party going on at the same time, it was all bouncy. Everyone was everywhere and she could only count down the minutes until she was going to have to try and get people to bid on her act. It was going to be a long night, of that she was sure. “Any way I can convince you to abandon everything else and just watch me all night?” she teased to the person standing nearby as she gripped a glass, waiting for things to really begin.

[zarabishop-blog]

“How should we refer to this part? The exposition, or the climax of the story?” Zara mused, her voice barely louder than a whisper once the surprise in the shape of a grainy film was over. She’d been surprised to see goosebumps on her arms when the room had turned bright again, but the actress’ eyes sparkled with fascination and the desire to know more. Curiosity - it was such a driving force in her life. “Needless to say, I am intrigued.” she murmured to the person standing next to her, crossing her arms before her chest. “I can’t wait to see how this story will unfold.” 

[brett-fowler-blog]

While it could never be said that Brett was humble, his penchant for braggadocio has always seemed to be directly correlated to his blood alcohol level. One drink, and he may bore you with the same boastful story you’ve heard a hundred times before. Three, and he’s likely to pull a knife from nowhere and start doing tricks for whoever will indulge him. Five, and he’s at least once propositioned a Governor’s mistress (while she was on the Governor’s arm). And beyond that, well, his mind can twist just about anything into a challenge, a call to prove himself.

          ( But don’t worry, he’s only had three.                We’re not counting the ones before the party started, are we? Oh. )

That would explain why he raises an eyebrow, amusement on his lips but something sharper reflected in his eyes. Famous last words rush past his teeth as if they’d been waiting to get out:

                                   “Are you saying that I can’t?”

[brett-fowler-blog]

BRETT FOWLER +  SARTORIAL (PROHIBITION PARTY)

               A suit (of course); Navy blue, three-piece, a hint of shine. A bow tie; Lost early in the night, wrapped around Priya’s wrists as part of some trick. Likely turned into a dove or a fifty dollar bill by now. A pin; An heirloom. Not Henry’s, but passed down from some other mad, forgotten Fowler. Who can tell them apart anymore? Who could ever?

[ariakingfisher-blog]

K I N G F I S H E R A T T H E P R O H I B I T I O N P A R T Y

          {     she descends the steps like a thief in a night, and when she sees that eyes do not drift and heads do not turn, she smiles. good. she is not dressed to be pretty – she is dressed for war. she has cloaked herself in azure blue, tassels that fall like feathers over her form, and her nails are filed to talons, painted dark as the midnight sky. see now, how the kingfisher eyes the tumid river. she wears this new name like courage, like armour – this sordid city will not take her a second time. must not. she makes it clear in every word, every movement, every nuance of her being, that she is a girl reborn. she takes a breath, grits her teeth, and steps into night.     }

[zarabishop-blog]

THE PROHIBITION PARTY

Dress: Herve Leger sleeveless fringe embellished bandage gown Styled with: smoked out eyes, candlelight highlight, rosy lips, messy updo, fringe earrings, sparkly heels and a striped clutch.

[gordonlitwin-blog]

Lush, whispering olive green hues of tweed, 

not something extravagant but something festive, 

with a straw hat for a touch of playful innocence. 

[priyaduchovny-blog]

It always happens this way --- - Priya arrives all grass-stained freedom and star-light height, and they want to tie her down. It’s a condition of her countenance, a side-effect of her self. She comes in on the arm of the devil with champagne fizzle in her voice and money under her tongue (snatched from Daisy Buchanan, who can be spotted watching with envy from the corner).

So, here she is. In diamonds and pearls and feathers, and a knot of three gentleman’s ties binding her wrists behind her back. The men around her watch on with some kind of lascivious love, the pretty thing tied up by their honour in their shadow, but Priya only smiles -- a ghost of a thing, but it’s there nonetheless. Her gaze rebounds to the one watching her hands curiously.

“Go on, tighten it. Add more, if you like.” She encourages, turning to make a gift of her back. “Approche-toi - make sure it’s knotted.”

“Then raise your glass - I’ve made a bet that I can escape before your lips take the last drop.”