#wod:starter

[sweetrobinprods]

A happy smile on his face, a glass of champagne between his lithe fingers, his gaze darting around the room, his blue women’s-cut suit laying well-pressed over his shoulders. Robin couldn’t have been more delighted. A night like this was a perfect reason to get away from the busy work that school provided for him. 

This sort of glitz and glamor was just his speed. The party was beautiful, seeing everyone dressed to their finest, with alcohol provided, and a crowd to mingle in. Using his thumb to spin a ring that was around his left middle finger, he looked around. Giving his mother a kiss to her cheek, he dismissed himself from the conversation, not wanting to be roped into political discourse that he couldn’t keep up with for the rest of the night. 

Looking around as he walked, the heels of his dress shoes clicking quietly with every step, he found himself lost in the crowd. He absolutely didn’t mind being in the middle of the room, especially considering the compliments he was getting on his appearance, but he found himself needing a refill of champagne sooner rather than later. Heading towards the edge of the crowd, he felt himself jostle someone; he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, too focused on the quest to refill his glass. “Oh - I’m sorry, my bad, I didn’t mean to bump into you. There’re far too many things to be looking at, aren’t there...?”

[aryaorarentya]

The tips weren’t great, but working at her brother’s bar was certainly better than any average job. Arya could reasonably set her own schedule, and there was no fear of being fired. Besides, what was better than spending an entire evening with Jon? He’d been her best friend since before she could walk. However, nights like this weren’t her favorite to be behind the bar. She took a rag from over her shoulder and began to wipe down the wood. The entire building was packed with heart-eyed fools looking for some sort of love with Valentine’s so near. Arya would rather stab herself in the eye. A man crossed his arms and leaned up against the bar. He had that familiar look that made the she-wolf squirm. “D’you want a drink or what?” She asked in a tense tone. ‘Or what.’ His voice dripped with sleaze. Arya rolled her eyes and flipped a glass onto the table, filling it to the brim with water and slid it over to him. 

The palm that met the skin of her arm was slick with sweat, but the fingers dug into her skin. Arya’s head whipped around to look at the man so sharply that it was nearly a danger. “Hands off, you prick.” She whipped the rag with a crack against the side of his head. The man didn’t let go, but now he was without a doubt more angry than he’d been interested before. He grumbled some harsh words under his breath. All the while, he didn’t let go of her arm. Arya was getting steadily more angry now. She ripped her arm out of his grasp. “Either you can leave in one piece now, or you can leave a corpse for staying.” Another person had approached the scene. She glanced over, but didn’t quite process who was there. “And that goes for you too if you’re planning on making a problem.”

[littlerxsequeen]

who: margaery tyrell and anyone when: february 12, 2020 where: benefit gala, highgarden

It was no question that Margaery would be attending - it was her brother’s event, and it was her home - of course she would be there. So far, the event was going smoothly, no unexpected drama in sight. If she had it her way, that’s how things would stay, a welcome relief from what they had all been through.

Her dress brushed the ground as she moved through the room, before locking eyes with a familiar face and making her way over. “And why are you looking so lonely over here?”

[thegildedseashell]

Open 14 Valyrian Way

Everywhere she looked, Jeyne assessed. The champagne glasses were full, the refrigerators were well-stocked, and the musicians seemed to be having as good of a time as the guests themselves. It had taken her months of planning - months of trying to find the perfect flower and a menu that would cater to all while offending few - but Jeyne found herself immensely pleased with the result. As she lifted a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter’s tray - she would have much preferred an Arbor Red - she thought that perhaps she might allow herself to enjoy at least part of the evening. 

That thought was to be short-lived however. The musicians continued playing and Jeyne felt a hand at her elbow; she turned, instinctively, her curls cascading over her shoulder. The expression on her place was placid and only those who knew her exceptionally well would be able to notice the concern in her eyes. “Is something wrong?” she inquired.

[thetarlygroup]

Open 14 Valyrian Way

It was inevitable, Talla supposed, that she would run into her father, that she would be unable to avoid him, him and his intrepid stare. She was on her fourth glass of champagne -- having promptly finished her previous one upon seeing Randyll Tarly approaching -- and after listening to her father blather about the importance of family and the hierarchy of one’s house, she was rather ready for a fifth. If it would not be incredibly rude, Talla would have opened her handbag and texted Jon to come save her; but she knew that her father seeing Jon at the moment would not do either of them any favors. 

Her gaze moved past her father’s shoulder, focusing instead on the attendees as she wondered if they were enjoying their conversations just as much as she currently one. Talla’s eyes widened as she saw a familiar face and she latched on quickly, reaching for the other person’s arm as they passed by. “I’m sorry, Papa,” she said in the tone that had always gotten her out of any trouble she’d found as a child. “I simply must go, but we shall catch up later.” She tightened her grip slightly and only loosened it when they were out of her father’s hearing.

“I’m so sorry about that,” she murmured quietly. “I needed a reason to...extricate myself from that conversation.”

[crownofash]

The guttural screech of death had bloomed both shock and pity to aureate features, and in a manner of mere minutes death divides and rearranges to murder, and whispers begin to fester; palms had lifted to the swell of mouths to mask syllables from her view, pupils narrowed to something feline and Daenerys could see the beginning of blame starting to stitch to her throat like a noose of pearls. Ghostly, her silhouette relocates to the stretch of the balcony, and the shadows suit her fondly: she's pearlescent, something otherworldly, snow falling and saturating light tresses. "Winter has come," it's tangled with a sigh, perhaps of awe-- and an audible approach prompts the tilt of a chin, gaze relocating to her newfound company. “I can leave, if you were looking to be alone.” 

[action-breeds-confidence]

[theanymosity]

‘I’m going to kill you.’ She mouthed across the room to one of her sisters. They’d abandoned her to go shag some bloody idiot from the stormlands university, and thus left her alone to fend for herself in a room full of other politicians and rich snobs. While normally that was par for the course of her career, but usually, she didn’t allow that career to reach into parties she attended. However with the guest list here, it wasn’t exactly an option to abstain and get drunk. Nym turned around and nearly jumped to find someone standing all too close to her. “How may I help you today?” She purred. “I’m sorry. It seems I may have had a bit too much to drink. You simply must remind me of your name.”