#ftwchat

[wickedmxse]

10:30 A.M. @ ROSEMONT COUNTRY CLUB

Mid-morning, pool-side. It's still relatively quiet, because it's not quite hot enough to need the pool this early in the day. The smell of morning dew was still fresh across the greens, and it pleased Rodrigo as he enjoyed a late breakfast. The man was smart enough to know he should be taking advantage of this peace. If Hugo had his way, and if they continued on down the same jagged path, he wouldn't have a moment of peace for the foreseeable future. But the man knew what he was getting himself in to when he'd agreed to join along in his older cousin's escapades. Rigo was along for the ride. The entire ride. "Finally." He'd lay his fork to rest near the edge of his plate. "We pay you people enough. Mimosa's aren't rocket science." Rigo turned to catch a glimpse of the approaching body, amber pools flickering over the tops of his dark sunglasses. "Oh," dejection tinted his voice. "What do you want?" 

[victcriamartin]

Make a good impression.

These were words Victoria had far too often heard from her father’s lips since she was nine. It seemed for the longest time her only goal in life - be pretty, make good impressions, get in with the right people. At first, she thought Girard just wanted the best for his daughter to make her happy, but now she knew better. She was meant to be his ears, and to know what she might be coming up against. 

Flashing a practiced smile at a passerby, Victoria plucked a glass from a passing tray, knowing that it was the only thing that would get her through without her sister by her side. Feeling a set of eyes on her, she turned and arched her brow, “Can I help you?”

[stefanvalenti]

WHERE. Le Rouge Bar

WHEN. Around Midnight

WITH. Open to All

LONG LIMBS CARRIED THE MALE TOWARD THE EXIT, shutting the door behind him with a subtle click. Reaching a halt at the balcony, Stefan fixed a cigarette between his teeth whilst producing a lighter from the confines of his pocket. Rolling his thumb against the spark wheel, his free hand lifted to cup around the end of the stick ; shielding the naked flame against the light breeze. Taking a long drag from the smoke, the dark-haired male reclined his head slightly to blow a cloud of vapour into the cool night air. The sudden sound of door hinges creaking roused the Capo’s attention, dark eyes drifting to settle upon the figure hovering in the doorway. “ Care to join me? ” He inquired, an indifferent tone settling into his voice as he flicked the end of his cigarette ; watching the flecks of ash drift toward the ground beneath his feet. “ I promise I won’t bite. ” A lazy smirk slid across his lips then, a glimmer of mirth shining in his inky gaze.

[emiliaking]

Open;

Where: Santorini Mansion | Second Floor When: During the fight

She could see it all unfold from a mile away: a Vittori bumping into the wrong person, the sudden raised voices, the first punch that made the party go silent. Like a flash, all sorts of bodies started getting tangled with each other, Emilia ducking down to narrowly miss a wine glass that sailed in her direction. This fucking city. There was never going to be a normal night out when a war brewed, was there? In the thick of it all, her eyes fell on the stairs not too far off. It was the perfect escape route out of the madness, security guards already gone as they tried to tear Vittori from Ivory. The King girl quickly turned on her heel, stilettos clicking up the stairs until the second floor manifested itself. The quiet was a contrast to the party below... and she knew all too well that she wasn’t supposed to be there. Nonetheless, Emilia pulled out her phone, fingers quickly texting Zephyr and Sera as she walked through the deserted hall. Fight broke out- i’m on the second floor. 

What caught her attention was a room on her left, reminiscent of her mother’s study. Books and papers were scattered across a mahogany desk, a dim-lit inviting her curiosity. Would it hurt if she looked around? She’d just situated herself in one of the armchairs, fingers shuffling through what looked like property deeds when her eyes noticed the shadowy figure in the doorway. Shit.  “I... I’m waiting for someone- you haven’t happened to see a brunette woman? Purple dress?” 

[rossbancroft]

WHERE. Santorini Vineyard.

WHEN. Around 22:30.

WITH. Anyone.

THE SANTORINI ESTATE WAS LAST ON A LONG LIST OF PLACES THAT ROSS EXPECTED TO BE TONIGHT. Admittedly, the man hadn’t entirely anticipated receiving an invitation to such an extravagant soirée. Nevertheless, here he was, long limbs carrying him away from where the masses collected at the mansion and toward the expanse of grapevines. With a cigarette dangling rather precariously between his lips, his footsteps finally reached a halt, settling his back against the trunk of a mammoth oak tree. The fair-haired male spent a solid minute fishing in and out of his pockets, a curse muttered under his breath until he produced his Zippo lighter, one hand lifting to cup around the end of his cigarette; shielding the naked flame against the breeze. Taking a long drag from the stick, Ross reclined his head slightly to blow the smoke into the cool night air above him, sapphires observing the coiled vapour dissolve with the light breeze. He’d broken away from the crowds in search of some solitude, in the hopes of finding a spot where he could be alone and avoid any pretence. You could say that Ross Bancroft was a man far from amused by having to plaster on a faux smile of feigned geniality. From no age, Ross had possessed a rather acute perception, far surpassing that of those around him. Thus, once the shadowy figure in his peripheral ghosted alongside him, he soon realised that his tranquility was sure to be interrupted. “ Fair warning, ” he began, seemingly unbothered whilst flicking the end of his cigarette; watching the flecks of ash drift south only to scatter to the dewy grass at his feet. “ I’m not in the most sociable of moods. So, if you’re approaching me for pointless conversation, I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. ” Eventually, after a beat, azure eyes rose to peer at the other, the twinkling of the fairy lights illuminating Ross’ face against the twilight backdrop of the vineyard.

[sdclxre]

Location: University of Montreal Time: 1pm Status: Open

Catching a quick coffee with an old professor in search of a small snippet off advice, had turned into far more than she’d bargained for. Frankly, she should have expected as much. Though it’d been some time since she’d stepped foot inside a classroom, it’s been almost second nature to her when he’d asked that she sit in on his next lecture - offer her own input. As difficult as her job was, the fact that she was yet so young and still standing was a feat in itself, without taking into consideration the city itself. Build on the foundations of violence, the city that stood around them held far more than the simplicity of natural history, when a war raged within it as they spoke.  Sat now, pondering old memories and hopes that she might have once held within the palms of her hands - now covered in ash and painted far differently than she might have ever pictured, Savannah felt the presence of another. Looming, perhaps barely on purpose beyond the bench she’d chosen. Light dispersed gently through the trees above and cast their shadow to her right. “It’s almost enough to make you want to go back.” The serene image painted before them. Though, she doubted she could teach, the crown prosecutor was not yet done with tearing apart the criminal underbelly of Montreal. “If, of course, you can manage to repress every memory of stress and anxiety this place ever handed out. Daily.” Lips pursed tightly, uncertain as to what the newcomer intended, though she certainly wasn’t paranoid - it never hurt to be curiously cautious. Azure hues cast across her shoulder to find them, “Decidedly, not a strong point of mine.” The ability of repression might have once been a godsend; to which she was only now thankful she was never granted.

[davedlore-blog]

Open: Whoever Location: On the street somewhere David had woken up in the hospital with not much of a clue of what had happened or where everyone was. The last thing he remembered was trying to get Milena to safety and then just black. He’d checked himself out of the hospital before he could be questioned by the staff or by the police, knowing they’d probably end up blowing his cover and right then he wasn’t sure he could risk it. With a throbbing headache and finally outside he checked his phone to find over 100 messages relaying the same information. Milena King is dead. He felt absolutely nothing for the woman, the only thing that had his stomach sink was that she had been his responsibility. No doubt some blame would be put on him and Riley...Riley. Was she still alive?

David found himself walking in an aimless direction, staring down at his phone, deleting all the messages and wondering if he should try calling someone. Not knowing what kind of the stress the Ivories were under or if he had his name on the blacklist since he’d fucked up. So preoccupied he hadn’t stepped out of the way and banged shoulders with someone else, phone dropping from his hand and cracking against the sidewalk, “Oh jesus -- I’m sorry that...that was my fault.”

[masonhcll]

It didn’t happen very often that Mason went to a bar by himself, but he needed to get out of the house before tension would get too much and he’d snap. It wasn’t anything in particular that had set him off, but rather a string of events. He felt like he was losing control over things that happened, and he hated that. Even if the city had been a little calmer ever since the storm – though, was it ever really calm? There was always some sort of karma waiting around the corner. The bar he’d chosen that night was a little too packed for his comfort, and sitting at the bar alone with a glass of whiskey didn’t help his situation. “I swear to all the Dios up there, if anyone offers me another one of those fuckin’ neon-colored cocktails I’m gonna shove it up their goddamn ass.”