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Willow Glen Performing Arts

#ProteinPacked #DecadentStart #VeganBreakfast #ChocolateTofuScramble

Eva stood one of the many palace balconies, watching the people below. They were revelling, as she had expected. It didn’t matter that the king had died; the wealthiest had come to celebrate. She shook her head, grinning wryly. Hearing the footsteps of someone approaching, she said, “Aren’t these always a pleasure?”

#decadentstart #decadentevent01 #open #c

Rome’s sister’s were off courting while Rome watched over them. Ever the protective brother he had often become physical with the men that came on too strongly with his sisters. However their current companions seemed rather dull, overly talkative in his opinion and he was actually becoming bored watching them. His eyes gazing around the room he looked for someone alone, someone who might be willing to entertain him for a while and walked forward, hands jingling beneath the sound of the music. “Would you, perhaps, be willing to dance with me?” he asked the person he had approached.

#decadentevent01 #decadentstart

Whispers —— the incongruously harsh grating of a lowered voice prickling the shell of a lord’s ear as a lady-in-waiting ushers scandal into his mind. He grins an uneven, gleeful smile at the words, a sweaty, meaty hand screaming around her bodice with praise, and her resulting wind-chime laughter proof of her pleasure to be of such use, especially to a man of deeply sewn pockets. Henri did not abhor a great many things ( to do so would be an immeasurable waste of time ), but he does grit his teeth at this awful cacophony of gossip.

He’s long tired of this chess match of tightly corseted vixens and a prideful cattle of men, with checkmate infinitively a few moves away — the shove of a stablehand or king across the board. There's nothing sating about an assured victory, the ease found in earning something. A Levett, by contrast, depends on that sense of struggle, the splintering of flesh and titanium under his nails and a worked ache in his bones which creaks with a chorus of triumph.

It touched on his thoughts as he pinched nonexistent flecks of dust from the shoulder of a velveteen coat, perhaps for the sake of gesture or, more likely than this, in that deceptive way with which all his movements were made, calculatedly. In another show of this same nature of his, always meticulous with thought and stratagem, he leant against an arcing entryway feeding into the palace gardens — looking no less poised in even such a languid position as he resolved to wait there in those following minutes.

Yet, the gunshot of disappointment in his gaze couldn’t be missed as an unanticipated figure meant to pass by him, not that malicious arc of a body which belonged to Lilith, but he seldom allowed an opportunity to pass him by regardless of unforeseen circumstance.

“Gone off to commune with the roses then?”

#decadentstart #open #come meet henri if ya like!!!#i'll be replying to starters in the tag as well for the next hour or so

Rome’ right and left hands each were decorated with his own creations. He may have been born of his parents but to be a de Laval he had to create and he did so with more skill than he did anything else in his life. On his left pinky was a thick gold ring that looked as though it were vines tightening around his flesh and bone. While his right ring finger carried a much larger wolf with eyes made of emeralds.

“Think I could get a scotch no rocks?” Rome asked of the bartender before him. The opera was the most boring place in the whole fucking city and yet it was where he spent the most amount of his social time when he was not dating. Where else in the city could he wear such elaborate suits and see women sauntering around in glamorous gowns that showed just how practically perfect they each were.

“Anything I can get for you?” Rome followed, lifting his right hand to scratch the side of his face, mostly to show the wolf ring to the person standing beside him. Partially a show of wealth but mostly a show of pride. A person deserved to be proud of their work. However he had forgotten about the bruised knuckles he showed in the process, so used to the purple and brown hues of the flesh over his bones.

#decadentstart #bruises tw #injury tw

"I have to say, watching the 1st bassoon was a treat today." Kiera smiled, shaking her head. "Throughout the show, he was battling a massive sneeze. What I wouldn't give to have seen him do it mid-note."