InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "STOP REFRESHING!"

logan fox ✶ loki laufeyson (formischief) wrote in thereincarnates,
@ 2011-12-30 19:51:00

Entry tags:

!plot week, !three wishes, adrian wilder, ames hargreaves, ava prince, carter greene, cassie macmahon, charlotte evans, connor bone, evan gray, grace cash, graham wyatt, gregory delano, haley jacobs, jezebel white, jimmy lannigan, kane lewis, liam walker, lillie shipton, logan fox, mallory "frost" reynolds, nate henderson, oscar darlington, patrick callahan, quinn mcfarlane, rachel young, ren wentworth, sara taft, shane savage, sydney delano, topher strange

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: A New Year's Eve party hosted by Logan Fox.
WHERE: Happy Endings, Chicago
WHEN: Forward dated to New Year's Eve – the party begins officially around 8:00 PM, but your subthreads can take place any time during the night.
WARNINGS: Anything goes, kiddos. Go absolutely wild.

Logan Fox smiled to himself, surveying the fruits of his labors with pleasure. There was already a sizable crowd mingling in or around the dance floor, talking and dancing (badly) amongst themselves as they waited for the show to start. The pristine silver tile had been put in place especially for the occasion, taking up much of what had formerly been the dining area in front of the stage, but there were still enough tables and chairs closer to the bar to accommodate his guests, not to mention the private booths and boxes lining the outer walls. Standing placidly in his own private box – the only one that was slightly elevated – just to the right of the stage, Logan could see everything, up to and including tonight's main attraction.

And my, what an attraction it was. The dance floor was not the only modification Logan had made for tonight's party, nor was it the most important or the most noticeable. On the contrary, that title belonged to the conspicuous well just inside the doors of the club – a wishing well that, for all intents and purposes, looked like it had been in that precise spot for centuries. Logan was particularly proud of that simple touch; considering the enchantment he'd put on the well, he wanted it to look authentic. The devil was in the details, after all, though it wouldn't have mattered either way. The vapid attendant at the door of the club handed everyone who entered three coins, and everyone, without exception, threw the coins into the well as they passed it to enter the club proper. Some were thoughtful as they did so, some flippant, but none noticed that they had no choice. They all just knew, deep within their souls, that once they crossed the threshold, all of their wishes would be granted. They would find their happy endings here, if that was what they truly desired. Compulsory or no, who could possibly resist that?

Smirking, Logan turned to exit his box, glancing at the clock above the stage as he did so. Four hours until the stroke of midnight. The New Year was almost upon them. It was to be a new beginning no reincarnate would ever forget.

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Grace/Charlotte/Open

theothershoe
2011-12-31 03:45 am UTC (link)

Grace was undercover. For two completely different groups, so making her way around the party had been tricky. She was overly careful to avoid any faces that might give away her not so loyal status with the Resistance, while only somewhat avoiding her more rotten colleagues in an effort to appear with them but aloof to the scene at large. It was her and Cindy's way, and so far it'd worked like a charm.

It also helped that nearly everyone was already five sheets to the wind and falling over each other for one more refill from the watering hole. Open bars were a death sentence, if anybody tried to tell you anything different they'd be lying from the ditch they were laying in.

Grace was far too sober for a party like this, but she had to keep her wits about her. Still, she held onto a half-full glass of something clear just for show, making her rounds through the place like she was picking her way through a battle field. She caught a little bit of some of the on-stage acts, made an effort to successfully feign socializing with some of the more colorful characters in the place. It seemed ever since she'd stepped past that old looking wishing well and into the club, the place was buzzing with a curious sort of energy that she couldn't name. Not that she spent much time dwelling on it. Especially once she saw who was coming her way.

"Shit," she muttered, turning quickly on her heel to attempt a sort of disappearing act into the crowd.

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Grace/Charlotte/Open

deputyprincess
2011-12-31 04:36 am UTC (link)

Charlotte knew from the moment she'd arrived that she'd made a huge mistake coming to this party without telling anyone, but then again... No, that was a ridiculous train of thought. Just because Daniel had made her the head of reconnaissance didn't make her some sort of Bond-girl spy master, and really, when it came right down to it? She needed a bit of a break. Losing herself in a crowd seemed like the best option, even if it was a rather dangerous, ill-advised one. But maybe that was why she was doing it, too. Sometimes the castle felt too safe. Tonight, perhaps, she needed a little danger.

Weaving through the crowd, Charlotte avoided wandering hands and stomping feet, ducking her head and hiding behind her long black hair whenever she thought she saw someone she a) recognized or b) might tell her brothers she'd come here very obviously alone. As she neared the bar, she spotted Mallory Frost's all-too-familiar profile, and a surge of panic jolted through her. She turned abruptly on the spot and dove back into the crowd, momentarily grateful for the sanctuary it offered, then almost immediately regretting it. Now she felt catastrophic. Yes. This had definitely been a mistake.

But then, miracle of miracles, she saw a familiar blonde who didn't make her want to race in the opposite direction. "Oh, Grace!" she called over the noise, standing on her toes and waving in the resident Cindy's direction. Apparently, however, Grace hadn't heard her... or perhaps she had. Lowering her arm, Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the way Grace changed directions mid-step. Odd. Very odd.

Intrigued, she took a deep breath and followed Grace deeper into the crowd. She managed to catch up relatively quickly, grabbing the blonde's arm and nearly tripping over a stray limb as she did so, catching herself as best she could before he fell headlong into Grace. Which was perfect, really. A little bit of clumsiness was an excellent way to cover up suspicion. Hadn't she seen that in a movie somewhere before?

"Oh, bugger all – I'm so sorry, Grace! I wasn't sure if you'd seen me, and, well. Hello?" She smiled sheepishly. That, at least, was genuine.

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Grace/Charlotte/Open

theothershoe
2011-12-31 05:54 am UTC (link)

Double crap. That had been as much Grace as it had been Cindy swearing in her head when the ex-deputy mayor princess and current pain in their behinds finally caught up to them. Or, more accurately, plowed her way into them. Being a little bit more graceful, thankfully, Grace managed to catch herself before they both went down. Going tumbling straight to the floor would have created any even bigger scene than they already had, so Grace attempted to save what little face she had left by steadying them both as quickly as possible before dislodging herself from Charlotte and putting a good two or three inches of room between them. There wasn't a lot of room in the middle of a huge crowd to begin with.

What was she going to do? The answer was easy, or at least it was to Cindy. Blow her off, make her hate you. It was a small price to pay to not blow their cover, but looking at Charlotte, Grace almost didn't have the heart to do that to the poor woman. Was the Fabled Super Spy going soft? Both blondes quickly dismissed that notion before even allowing themselves to entertain it, and Grace quickly focused back on the situation at hand.

"S'okay, Charlotte," Grace managed to say through a somewhat cool, distant tone. Not exactly mean, but not all that friendly either. Indifferent, that's what she was going for. Couldn't act like they were real pals, that was too risky. Much too risky. "Didn't think this was your kind of scene. What are you doing here?" Keeping with the same tone as before, she almost couldn't keep the edge of desperation out of her voice but she managed to, crossing her arms over her chest and looking steadily at the woman in front of her.

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Grace/Charlotte/Open -

deputyprincess, 2012-01-01 04:11 pm UTC

Grace/Charlotte/Oscar/Open -

forgettime, 2012-01-04 04:14 am UTC

Grace/Charlotte/Oscar/Open -

theothershoe, 2012-01-04 05:22 am UTC

Grace/Charlotte/Oscar/Open -

deputyprincess, 2012-01-04 05:43 pm UTC

Grace/Charlotte/Oscar/Open -

forgettime, 2012-01-04 10:30 pm UTC

Grace/Charlotte/Oscar/Open -

theothershoe, 2012-01-05 01:07 am UTC

Frost/Evan/Open

nevertopple
2011-12-31 04:01 am UTC (link)

Generally, Frost avoided parties (and therefore, people) like the plague, but this one, well. The invitation itself was peculiar enough to pique her interest and pretentious enough to make her paranoid. Not a very good combination. It took her all of two minutes to make her decision: one, that she was going (no arguments), and two, that Evan was going with her. Her curiosity may have gotten the better of her this time, but she wasn't stupid enough not to take back-up. And in spite of his flaws? There was no one better to take to a party of possible ill-repute than Evan Gray, forger extraordinaire.

Still. It was tiresome. All these people, very drunk and very young and very.... Frost took a sip of her champagne, furrowing her brow slightly as she tried to pinpoint the word, but it was escaping her for the moment. Her better judgment told her it had something to do with those wishes she made in the lobby (that she could dream again, that Daniel would be safe in the coming year, and another one she could barely admit even to herself), but her better judgment was significantly impaired at the moment, diverted by the idiocy in front of her. She rolled her eyes and threw back her champagne, swallowing it in one gulp before setting her glass back down on the bar with a resounding clink.

"Honestly, Gray," she said loudly in exasperation, overacting as her eyes scanned the other patrons of the bar, memorizing their faces. "Don't you have anything better to do than hit on everything that moves?"

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Frost/Evan/Open

forgings
2011-12-31 05:39 am UTC (link)

Despite his less than stellar history with this sort of scene, Evan hadn't said no to Frost when she'd asked him to go with her. Well, more like told him, since Frost was never one to ask for much of anything. Still, he'd responded enthusiastically to the idea, not just because he would do practically anything for a stiff one (of alcohol, of course...), but because it had been awhile since he'd stretched his nimble, forging fingers. So to speak. He was here to work as much as he was to play, and it was just a pity that Frost couldn't understand the beauty in the balance.

"Oh come off it, you're exaggerating," Evan drawled lazily from where he was seated practically lounging in his chair next to the woman who was technically his superior. That didn't ever stop him from mouthing off and generally being a complete smart ass of course, he was just lucky enough to be useful in a way that kept her from giving him the boot. ... Hopefully. Truth be told, as a rule he counted a bit too much on his charm than he probably should most days.

"It wasn't everything... Just, most things," he added after a second's 'thoughtful' pause, sly grin in the corner of his mouth as he took a casual sip from his drink and winked at a not so subtle admirer twenty feet over in one direction. This place was an odd sort of party, even by Evan's standards, but at least it was an interesting one. "Couldn't hurt you to have a little fun once in awhile, you know. Ever thought about trying? Promise I won't tell. It'll be our little secret. Well, ours and whoever else is unlucky enough to share a dream or two with us."

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Frost/Evan/Open -

nevertopple, 2011-12-31 06:21 am UTC

Frost/Evan/Open -

forgings, 2011-12-31 06:44 am UTC

Re: Frost/Evan/Topher/Open -

cherry_mase, 2011-12-31 06:57 am UTC

Frost/Evan/Topher/Open -

nevertopple, 2012-01-01 04:51 pm UTC

Frost/Evan/Topher/Open -

forgings, 2012-01-02 01:26 am UTC

Frost/Evan/Topher/Open -

cherry_mase, 2012-01-05 07:40 am UTC

Frost/Evan/Topher/Open -

nevertopple, 2012-01-07 03:03 am UTC

Liam/Open

starkshonor
2011-12-31 04:28 am UTC (link)

Liam wasn't normally the type who attended parties. Or made an effort to socialize in any large groups. Or socialize at all. Neither was he the type who made wishes, in wishing wells or otherwise, but he'd done so without a thought almost as easily as he'd made the decision to come here tonight.

Well, his reasoning behind coming here tonight had been easy, in a way. There'd been talk, nothing more than rumors mind, but talk nonetheless about a certain kind of shady that tended to hang around this place. The kind that Camelot might want to know about, and being the gung ho soldier he was, Liam was all too eager to scope out the scene when he got the party invitation. Why not? It wasn't like he had anything better to do on New Years damn Eve.

He was nursing a beer by the bar, giving the appearance of a casual observer with his back and elbows leaning against the edge of the bar as he drank and looked out over the growing crowed. The girls on stage were good, especially Peyton who he knew hated the shit out of this place but she did a good job of pretending otherwise. Liam was a good pretender too, pretending to be completely engrossed in the flashy sequins and short skirts when all he was actually thinking about was all the Resistance assholes that could be in here that he might like to kill given half the chance.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Liam/Jimmy/Open

shitforhonor
2011-12-31 05:00 am UTC (link)

Unlike his practically agoraphobic brother, Jimmy loved to socialize. Absolutely loved it. Granted, his hard-core partying days were over and done with, but when the occasion arose, if the party was good enough? He'd certainly make an appearance, and a memorable one at that. Seven hells, the damn invitation dared him to prove his worth. How could he come to this party and not do exactly that?

As for the politics of the host, well. Jimmy could give a shit about that. He knew the company was less than savory here, more of a Targaryen (circa Aerys rather than Daenerys) crowd than a Stark one, and even though he was officially a member of Camelot now, there wasn't a bone in his Lannister body that cared for intrigue or to exploit the current situation. "Everyone who is not us is the enemy," Cersei was fond of saying. Jimmy happened to like fraternizing with the enemy. You never knew who was going to show up.

His brother, for instance. More out of shock than anything else, Jimmy let out a loud bark of laughter at the sight of Liam at the bar, and he sauntered over without a second thought, arms wide and eyes bright. "Well, look who it is! Never thought I'd see the day you'd crawl out of your wolf-infested cave and join the rabble, brother!" He laughed loudly again, clapping his brother hard on the back. "Clearly you're not drunk enough. Hey! Two more over here, barkeep!"

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Liam/Jimmy/Open -

starkshonor, 2011-12-31 06:12 am UTC

Liam/Jimmy/Open -

shitforhonor, 2012-01-01 05:14 pm UTC

Liam/Jimmy/Open -

starkshonor, 2012-01-02 01:45 am UTC

Liam/Jimmy/Open -

shitforhonor, 2012-01-03 11:19 pm UTC

Ames/Open

usemyname
2011-12-31 04:29 am UTC (link)

Amelia absolutely adored parties. Ever the social butterfly, she was often found flitting about from one attendee to the other, all dimples and nauseatingly convincing innocence. Ames the first, well, that was another story entirely. Keeping a low profile often meant avoiding the public eye, which, in turn, rendered parties somewhat of a big, resounding no. This regeneration, however, was very much enjoying itself already. Ames grinned, this face looking rather like a cat who'd just eaten your favourite pet rat. Happy Endings — Oh, he remembered this place fondly. Now, he was seeing it through brand new eyes. How .. poetic.

He observed the crowd, interested in the way everyone seemed to be interacting with the next person. Reincarnates from all over the world had apparently turned up for this little occasion. His hat was off to Logan (If he'd had a hat that evening) — few people could do something so impressive with colors as bland as green and gold.

With one leg crossed over his knee, Ames sat quietly on a bar stool. He didn't need to speak to anyone. His amusement was already set into effect. Human beings had no idea just how hilarious they were, and they never truly would. With a contemplative sniff, he took a sip of the scotch in his hand. His wrist moved counterclockwise, and with it, the ice in the glass hit the sides with a nice, gentle clink. What a night this would be. And it had only just begun.

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Ames/Kane/Open

misterdark
2011-12-31 05:37 am UTC (link)

Kane didn't have much use for parties anymore. Since Briar's exceptionally memorable New Year's party, he'd lost his taste for them. Nothing could ever top the fear he'd inflicted upon her that night, back when he was merely Carrion and not the pure Dark he was now, nor did he really want anything to. Perhaps that was the reason he'd wished for what he did upon entering the club. As inhuman as Kane was now, he wasn't immune to nostalgia. He'd made countless mistakes over the past year, but returning from the dead had a way of teaching one to learn from them. He knew, absolutely, what not to do in the coming year. He also knew what to do. For symmetry's sake, it was only fitting that he started with Miss Hayes. After all, why not?

A small, dark smile lighted the corner of his lips as he very casually parted the crowd. Mundies and reincarnates alike gave him a wide berth whenever he went out in public, usually without realizing it, something he didn't mind in the slightest. When the time came, he was the one to decide to approach them, and how. Tonight he paid the majority of them no mind. They were too drunk to be afraid of him, and as annoying as that was, he knew it was only a matter of time before his fun started. The night was far from over.

Before long, he found himself at the bar, where a new (yet not unfamiliar) face was sitting all by his lonesome. Kane took a seat next to him, tipping his ridiculously incongruous hat to the man and raising an eyebrow nonchalantly. "Bored, are you?"

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Greg/Open

againstyoursoul
2011-12-31 04:58 am UTC (link)

A New Year — that's what they called it. A time for change, for keeping promises soon to be broken. Greg didn't have the patience for time, nor did he have the time for promises. In the end, all the little boys and girls folded, and they did so with such contempt for themselves, that most times, he hadn't needed to step in at all. Thank God. He couldn't be everywhere at once, but even if he possessed the ability, he certainly wouldn't abuse it. Gregory Delano had better things to do than to focus his better talents on the pointless vices of the human condition.

With a cigarette between his teeth and a suit that fit right in with the decorum, Greg now moved through the crowd, a snake slithering through blades of grass. He flashed a charming smile this way, nodded his head that way. It was almost relieving, having an identity so precisely concealed that to everyone else, he was probably just some minor, thrown-away character in a Shakespearean piece. When in reality, no one knew they were brushing shoulders with the very Devil himself. Life was funny that way. Too bad that Abrams fellow couldn't grab a handle on the thing.

Taking a long drag off the filter, Greg slipped it from his mouth and let the cigarette extinguish in a girl's glass of champagne. It sank to the bottom, and before she could realize what was happening, he was good and lost within the sea of people around her, leaving behind only the smoke from his lips. Now, he had to find a way to keep himself occupied until better prospects came along. An easy enough task. Everyone was catering to their gluttony in a way that made everything simple.

His kinda place.

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Greg/Shane/Open

callmesir
2012-01-02 12:53 am UTC (link)

In the wake of Austin - Mary Winchester's - death, Shane wasn't sure how to feel about it. Well, no surprise there, she was possibly even more emotionally stunted than John himself was, but then that was really the issue here, wasn't it? She'd barely known the guy, but he had been the reincarnate of John's wife. And now killed just like the reincarnate of John's wife. She wasn't sure if she should feel guilty or just angry, so of course she overcompensated with the latter. She could have prevented this from happening, but she didn't, she was too caught up not giving a damn and steering clear of her reincarnate's love so she wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness. Now John was angry with her and she was angry at herself, so the prospect of going hunting was more than welcome at this point.

The hunters had arrived here and almost immediately felt (and probably looked) out of place, though considering this was a bit of a different back drop from their usual hunting grounds, Shane had at least tried to fit the part. She was wearing a short, jean skirt and a top that actually passed for feminine. The last time she'd dressed like this was probably when she was still in her early teens, so Shane was already at her max as far as her discomfort level goes before they'd even gotten to the party. She just couldn't stop fidgeting. Then there was that wishing well by the door, and Shane didn't even want to dwell on the things she'd wished without thinking. So, she drank.

She'd been drinking for a good couple hours now, as had the rest of the crew most likely but they were hunters, they could hold their liquor. Shane had a pretty high tolerance herself so she was still barely more than buzzed, for the moment nursing a beer and leaning against a wall by herself away from the crowd. She felt utterly miserable, but apparently she at least passed for a run of the mill party goer because she kept having to fend off drunken idiots who wanted to dance.

"No, thanks. Beat it, ass wipe," the blond said none to kindly to the last one before he walked away discouraged, rolling her eyes heavy with dark eyeliner and picking at a stray fringe from the edge of her skirt that had fallen onto her knee. The odds of them sniffing out Austin's killer in here were pretty slim, but Shane wasn't willing to give up. Not just yet.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Greg/Shane/Open -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-03 04:31 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-03 07:24 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-03 09:30 pm UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-04 06:09 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-05 12:41 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-05 03:17 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-05 04:42 pm UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-06 02:11 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-06 04:45 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-06 06:13 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-07 01:10 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-07 05:37 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

againstyoursoul, 2012-01-08 04:09 am UTC

Greg/Shane -

callmesir, 2012-01-08 05:51 pm UTC

Rachel/Nate

absorbings
2011-12-31 05:06 am UTC (link)

The party's festivities were in full swing, and had been for a couple hours now. Rachel was used to the place being this alive and buzzing, but never quite like this. Maybe it was just the sort of insanity that came with New Years Eve, but everyone seemed a bit more off their rockers than usual. Or maybe that was just because Mr. Fox had declared the bar open to the public, and everyone was getting their free money's worth and much more. Personally, Rachel didn't see what was so appealing about drinking until you were stumbling and puking all over yourself, but obviously some people didn't care enough to cut themselves off before that happened.

For Rachel, tonight was all business and very little pleasure. Since Happy Endings was hosting the party, she and the other girls were all performing throughout the night, but that part of the job she never minded. The entertainment theme of the night was Greatest Hits, or greatest hits throughout the decades, so all their costumes save for the last two decades were all period, and their performance numbers all clever mash ups of songs from then and the songs of now. There was hardly a thing Rachel loved more than a good mash up and a glittering costume, so she was in high spirits for the first part of the night, until she paused long enough to start feeling the exhaustion and was pretty grateful when her break finally came.

Unlike the other girls she didn't bother changing out of her costume first, which was currently a flapper costume after doing a lively Chicago-style rendition of the 1920's. Feeling the pressing need for air, Rachel was quick to escape the crowds (with one drink in hand, and that was it) and duck outside through the staff only door that led to the alley. She plopped down on one of the stray crates they always kept back there for employees who came out for cigarette breaks, intent on sitting there for a few minutes to relax before going back in when the door opened a second time, a loud whoosh of noise from the party coming with it and Rachel jumped up in mild alarm. "... Oh! Hey."

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Rachel/Nate

ragincajun
2011-12-31 04:02 pm UTC (link)

Nate and Remy were two of a kind in some cases. They both knew the value of a dollar--one because he was in the thieves guild, and the other because he hadn't had a dollar when he was trying to live on his own--and they both knew that sometimes? Sometimes an honest living was overrated. Sure, he made a few bucks tending bar, a good sum in tips if he was friendly and charming enough (and Remy tended to take over where charm was needed because he wasn't so sure the boy had enough finesse to talk his way out of a tin can). But the real money from these types of parties came from what the customers didn't realize they were paying.

Boozed up men were the easiest. Ever the cocky bastards with too much pride to let the girls hold their wallets, Nate had no problem snagging the money-holders from their pockets and replacing them after he'd gotten the cash he'd needed. By the time he headed outside for his cigarette break, he was sure he'd made a grand already--and the drunk assholes would probably think they'd spent that money on booze.

He'd pulled out the cigarette and lit it up before he'd exited the building. Always the cocky rebel, even when Remy advised against it. Sometimes, he liked to say, sometimes it's good t'let dem t'ink you be on dere side, mon ami. Nate always responded with a scoff and went about doing whatever the fuck he felt like. Fuck the system! Yeah, that was a good mantra.

He blew smoke out as he stepped through the door, cool as a cucumber. There was that trademark grin at Rachel jumping. "Startle you?" He took another puff on the cigarette and leaned against the wall just next to the door. He had Remy's patented trenchcoat on, and it looked pretty alright without the stupid cowl. Easy dere, copain. Dat ain't very nice.

"You makin' good money, or are people being stingy pricks?"