#prochnostevent

[ofgamesandblades]

date: july 1st, 8:07pm. location: bridge of tears. availability: closed to @prizedfox.

Today was... pleasant. Pleasantly disappointing. Who went to festivals for the latest technology and designs? Not him. He’d gotten his hands on those items weeks ago. He had actually gone for the theatrics and thinly-veiled threats. Loose lips had a way of clearing his skin and making him glow; sharp fangs looking more like pearly white teeth that invite you to pour out more than a few good shots of whiskey. But, he hadn’t had that. It has been depressedly apparent that no one has tipped the burly sap enough to begin to see true divinity on these streets with just one bite out of a blue snow cone. Worthless fuck! He wouldn’t be making any quick bucks tonight after his piss poor performance on the street corner. He’d be lucky if he survived the bitter night now as it seems a night in the cherry woods, naked and half-dead, would remind him of how performance is rewarded. 

This day now heavy with languor had drawn him towards a place that has always smelled of carnage and stirred a deep unease for most who walked its slippery path. Fearing what one slip might bring. He was not most, though, and neither was she. She who he hadn’t expected to see tonight. Or any night soon. The sight of her stirred a mad war in his bones and he couldn’t help but look strained, on edge. Wary of his surroundings and all of its deep shadows. Yet, the shadows couldn’t compile any hard evidence tonight, could they? This was a festival. A day where all were encouraged to mingle with the enemy. Who's to say he couldn’t be having a little fun right now with a possession. A plaything of his. Quieting his apprehension, he steps up to the edge, arms resting on the railing with the gatehouse looming behind them and casting long shadows across their features. “Surprised you can still stand, Evie.” Unable to resist, he drawls out the ‘cutesy’ nickname in an effort to rile her. “You’ve usually drunk half the town by noon.”

[caporlova]

𝖜𝖍𝖔: @prizedfox 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊: the summer festival; shopping district, central rosnovy 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓: early afternoon, july 1st

It was a rarity to see the Orlova heiress traipsing the streets of Central Rosnovy so blatantly, without the slew of half-hidden bodyguards by her side, or a blacked out G-Wagon tracking her every few blocks. Truces eluded to peace, and peace was a dual platter, best served with trust, meaning today (and only today), she was able to skirt the protective service that seemed to follow her like a pesky shadow. The only reason Tanya even bothered to show up to this piddly festival was because she was required to by the big man himself, and the only reason she hadn’t ignored Isaac’s direct order was because, well... she enjoyed her limited freedom, even if she was using it to shop. Bahler Designs had really outdone themselves for the summer season, Tanya herself clad in their red, double-breasted wool design, obligated to match the festival’s theme even if she found its existence taxing. When she had heard from her valet that they were already rolling out their fall designs, well, what better way to waste away her day? She spent the entire morning losing herself among the racks, making polite small talk with the shop hands and some nearby Rosnovians whose interest was undoubtedly piqued by her presence among them.

When she finally exhausted her politeness reserves, Tanya began taking her leave, having limited herself to a single outfit purchase so she wasn’t carrying bags around all day. She was all smiles and well wishes as she moved away, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw the quick movement of a man who didn’t want to be seen, ducking behind a corner and giving himself away. Without pause, Tanya turned on her heel and stormed away, a scowl permeating her features. Of course Antonio was following her, and of course she was infuriated by it.

There was no time to lose; heels clacking against the pavement, she dove off down an alleyway, then another, weaving her way through the shopping district until a familiar haunt finally presented itself. She practically dove through the back door of Gray’s, shedding her coat and shoving it away with her other purchase before attempting to sidle up to the bar. Having shouldered her way between the tightly packed bodies and perched herself on the farthest barstool from either entrance, Tanya finally breathed a sigh of relief, though it was quickly cut into a breathy gasp as she realized just who she was sitting next to.

“Un-fucking-believable, are you following me too?” the heiress groaned, ducking her head toward none other than Evelina, hoping a curtain of blonde curls would be enough of a shield from the prying eyes of her tail. Of course, now that she was this close, Tanya could smell the bourbon leaking off Evelina, liquor seeping off her skin and lingering on her muted breath. “Ah, no, you’re just drunk. You know it’s barely past noon, right?” she smarmed, a touch of a smirk dragging up her lips right as the back door opened once again, sending Tanya careening toward the other woman as she ducked beneath the bar top. At least no one, not even Antonio, would suspect Tanya willingly spending time with the most infuriating soldier in their ranks - she just had to hope to every God she didn’t believe in that Evelina would be too drunk to make a scene and blowing her cover.