unsea: (ᴅᴀʀᴋ.)
the darkling. ([personal profile] unsea) wrote in [community profile] station722016-10-22 07:17 pm

AINT NO PARTY LIKE A SAFFIT FUNDRAISER (DAY :47)

Just prior to the mission, everyone will receive handwritten copies of Sheena Frey's lists, previously held by Lexa. These lists contain the names of friends and enemies that Sheena Frey believes are not associated with H+H1. The Darkling has acquired the list, and immediately dispersed it among the nest. Because he is That Guy. There is a neat note from him at the top of each page, indicating that one of their goals is to match names to attendees at the fundraiser and to either confirm or debunk Sheena's legwork. There is also the matter of the well-earned findings, dredged up from Ngozi's files.

Under the cut, you'll find the mods description of the venue, some of the NPCs you might find there, and other general information!

THE VENUE --

The event itself is a benefit dedicated to raising money for those injured in the recent bombing, as well as for the families of those killed in it. It is being held at CAVANAUGH HALL - aka "THE OPERA HOUSE" - a live theatre and performance hall in the Beta Block. Some hosts (cough Mara and Hux cough) might be more acquainted with the layout of the building since they recently attended a performance there.

Most of the fundraiser is taking place in the Hall’s grand foyer rather than the theater itself. The foyer is four levels tall with balconies overlooking the main floor on each level. There’s a fabulous stained glass dome roof. The whole Hall is primarily decorated in shades of red, white and cream - white walls, ornate naturally cream woodwork, stunning glass-like fixtures, red carpets. For tonight’s event, a number of small white cocktail tables have been scattered throughout the foyer and a small circular platform has been erected in the center of the room where a small orchestra is playing music at any point that someone isn’t speaking over the microphone for the purposes of the fundraiser.

The catering is extensive, the outfits are lavish. The security is tight, so expect to either be in possession of an invitation or get ready to use your credit card to buy one (this IS a fundraiser after all - and for such a good cause!). Sorry Nathaniel, this is mostly a mingling and eating party and not so much a dancing party. On the plus side: that sure is an open bar!


THE MISSION --
The hosts initially have a twofold mission for this one: Carata, Aoba and the Darkling have secured a private meeting with Goram Saffit, and will be picking his brain for information. The rest of the party is a free-for-all for intel-gathering and - you know - in case you want to actually contribute to charity. There are a number of events-within-the-event to experience as well, including a lovely and rather familiar lion tamer, a silent auction ( all proceeds go to charity!! ), a live orchestra, and whatever else you all want to throw in there.

THE ATTENDEES --
Most of Saffit's guests are as follows:
  • middle (and above) aged politicians
  • business professionals
  • media figures

    There are also a few theatre stars, but it's unclear whether they're actually there to support the fundraiser or if they're part of the deal with the opera house. Despite that the event is a fundraiser, most people in attendance seem to be Saffit supporters and more or less share his sensibilities - that androids are useful for production, but they’re just advanced machines and their increasing numbers of the workforce are creating problems for people on the economic fringe. Many of the politicians are for increased regulation of androids in the workforce, though that point is clearly one for casual debate among even Saffit’s supporters. By and large, everyone is mortified about the violence that’s recently plagued the city; some seem to be unsurprised - “It was really only a matter of time” - but no one seems happy that bombs are going off in the city.

    There are a few people in attendance, and they are clearly there for the charity and not for Saffit. There are a few small time politicians, or media affiliates - and there is at least one journalist from a semi-serious EXTRAnet news outlet, though she spends most of her time camping by the bar and eating hor d'oeuvres. This is probably the fifth or sixth fundraiser she’s covered this year.


  • For the hosts who were not as gung-ho about fraternizing with a bunch of wealthy anti-synthers or attending fancy-schmancy events, feel free to take a much-needed and well-deserved break. Have a movie night at the Bearings - I hear that one flick "keeping tabs on your fellow hosts through the security cameras at the event and commenting on every move they make while throwing popcorn at the screen" is a great one. You can assist with observations, hack where you please, run detail and defense from the outside and even feed intel to the hosts at the party. Otherwise, you've got the Bearings and the whole city to yourself for the evening.

    100mitsubishis: (I'll do whatever you say)

    C // Petre // post-Ilde upset

    [personal profile] 100mitsubishis 2016-10-26 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
    [Sirius was a balm placed over a burn, sweetly cool, but ultimately temporary. He was sand crowded on top of the fire, but not enough to fully enclose and extinguish it. The blood Kavinsky wants hasn't been drunk as of yet; the eye of the storm is passed, but everyone's smartphones should still be lighting up with weather hazard alerts. Back at the gala, he's fizzling to a safer temperature, not so distracting to the hive, no long a potential upset to the mission should someone latch onto his ferocious emotion. He isn't really that guy, anyway; Kavinsky has never been ruled by anger.

    But he needs something. He needs a hit. The baggy of coke has been kept in place on the inside of his slacks only by their tightness, but movement has caused it to slip down from his waistline to the top of his thigh. There it brands him, a constant reminder of its presence. But he can't return to the balcony and being alone has never sounded less appetizing.

    Then he sees him. Less him, than the memory of him ripping off the space pod's door like it was nothing. Paper to tear. Kavinsky's trajectory takes a sharp turn and he's walking in a straight line, pushing through a group of jabbering businessmen who make all sorts of flustered noises at the rude boy disrespecting personal space. Three feet from Petre. One foot. Contact. He grabs for his arm.]


    C'mon.

    [And starts to walk again.]
    inflori: in treatment (096)

    [personal profile] inflori 2016-10-27 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ Petre's like the odd one out in this party. The free food's nice, because apparently that's all he can think about in this stupid mission, but everyone stares at him wondering why the twerp with a scowl and idiotic remarks was allowed here. Some whisper that he's got something to do with the video game world, others simply guess that he's the son of some rich asshole who didn't teach him how to be any different.

    He doesn't care about that any more than he cares about being here. It ends up being about having company and being among other hosts; the hatred for being alone grows with each day, each new experience, be it good or bad, and whatever happened between him and Angel only strengthened the thought.

    So he may be the walking, talking equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, but at least he... cares? In a really grating way?

    And then, as if on cue, here comes another grating factor in the hive's life. Petre is yanked off with a loud hey, a kid whining and about to ask what he did wrong this time. Except it's Kavinsky, and since when does this guy ever reprimand others for anything? He's the class clown every teacher wants to throw an eraser (and brick) at. ]


    The fuck, man! What do you want?
    100mitsubishis: (shit for luck elbows shredded)

    [personal profile] 100mitsubishis 2016-10-28 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Kavinsky doesn't know Petre; they've met once and parted ways with less than polite speech and more than the necessary amount of teenage swagger. The only linking chain between them is that of the hivemind, the shackles clutching them all close together like a sorry bunch of prisoners. But it doesn't take more intimate knowledge than that. The surface level thoughts are good enough. Petre doesn't want to be alone and neither does Kavinsky.]

    To blow your mind.

    [He keeps walking, dragging the other boy along unless he makes too large a fuss to be ignored.

    When Kavinsky first came to the party, he did a quick walk around to see where he'd be able to sneak off alone if need be. There's a supply closet not far from here with his name on it.]
    Edited 2016-10-28 22:32 (UTC)
    inflori: in treatment (078)

    [personal profile] inflori 2016-10-30 02:27 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ He's still offended that he's being dragged along like some child, but the truth is that Kavinsky's as close to someone who likes to get in trouble as the people Petre would corrupt back home, and that's what draws the boy to him in particular. What makes him crave his attention while he simultaneously wants to break his face for being a self-centered turd.

    Apparently he's chosen Petre for the night, for whatever this is going to do. Trouble, he hopes. But Kavinsky would get boring otherwise. ]


    Yeah, it fucking better be. I was eating.
    100mitsubishis: (maybe I've been slipping back)

    [personal profile] 100mitsubishis 2016-11-02 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
    [Trouble, trouble, trouble. That's what Kavinsky is. Aliongby students are Lost Boys, following after whatever Peter Pan or Pied Piper can lure them away from their regular hours of studying. Few have parents in the state, let alone keeping a watchful eye, so when they fall in Kavinsky's clutches, it's only a matter of nature and time. Public schoolers are something else, but they're also desperate. They spread his name like wildfire, doing all the promotion he could ask for. If you want the good stuff, got to Kavinsky. If you want a bad ride, Kavinsky can give you that, too. The information trickles through an endless pipe. Trouble.

    Nobody's learned it here. Not like they should. They will. Lots of trouble.

    He finds the supply closet, waits for a woman in the hall to walk by, then wrenches open the door. Peter's stuff inside first, then Kavinsky follows right behind. The door's shut behind them and they can only hope there's no locking mechanism to accidentally trigger or this will get real embarrassing.]


    You're gonna take a hit.
    inflori: in treatment (086)

    [personal profile] inflori 2016-11-04 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ A trouble-maker for a demon who did nothing but find it, reined in back home by his creator, Diana, and here by his broodmate Angel. Despite their guiding hands, however, Petre still acted out and acted dumb, searching for every kind of cheap thrill he could get his hands and teeth on. Adrenaline was as much of a drug as whatever Kavinsky is ready to hand him over now, and odds are he'll take it. ]

    I'm gonna take a what? [ He interprets 'hit' as in a punch. He's Romanian, idioms don't always land. ] Are you stupid?