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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.
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[He can see her approach, but it isn't until she's explaining herself that he asks the question. And, honestly, it's sort of a good thing she says what's going on, in a way, because a brain can only take surprise kissing so many times before it has a not-so-heroic bluescreen.]
[Air kisses included.]
[But he stoops a little, one hand on her shoulder to complete the look. Hopefully.] You too. You're lucky you caught me before I left.
(Are you okay?)
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( I'm alright. They just ... possessive. Like they own me. )
[ It's the minutest movement, how her fingers curl up tightly in his jacket, holding tightly to let out some bit of vexation. ]
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[He knows it's not. The way she's acting, it isn't anything like okay. But what else can you say? What else can you do but try and reassure?]
(I've got you. Stay here as long as you need to, okay?)
[The arm he puts around her shoulders is light. She could pull away if she wants to. There's no pressure. Just a wall between her and the rest of the room.]
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Has to be careful, doesn't want to ruin his nice clothes with her so heavily made up face - ( carefully painted as a porcelain doll, doe eyes and full lips ) - so she tilts her forehead into his chest instead. A high-strung tension in her shoulders and spine that has so little give sometimes except where her back is used to being broke, and where his arm settles around her is a wall, immovable blocking out the people that so viscerally disgust her. Like ants, creatures that she could melt skin from. Not that worst of Pandora, but the worst of the rest of galaxy. They are just creatures of civilised cruelty.
They like to pretend they're Gods, Apollos and Athenas of cultured, speaking of their noble intentions and thoughts. They believe themselves higher, perfect, pure, and if they have faults, well, such is the price of greatness, isn't it? Adorning themselves in laurels and shields, and pretending there are trees and spiders crawling forgotten in their path. Like that would save them.
Gods die, she thinks and eases in the space he provides her too, Gods die. ]
( Thank you. I'll be okay. ) [ A laughter of a thought, like she's trying to soften it for both of them. ] ( They're just... sometimes things are like home when you really wished they weren't? )
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[While he's doing his best to just keep things locked down, to boost up walls made of stars and galaxies around his thoughts, the only thing visible through the cracks is that sense of I got you. No judgement. No disdain, or a change in opinion. She's wildly good at something he isn't -- he respects her.]
[But even the best fall down. Or get into things they can't handle, for whatever reason.]
(Are you sure? I can get you something if you need it.) [Something softens around his eyes. And he nods. He could do that mentally, but he doesn't.] (Sometimes you just can't get away from what you want to get away from? Yeah.)
[If that's what she means, then he gets that. Very, very well.]
(Stay here as long as you need to.)
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Didn't work, apparently. But, she breathes out again, he's got her. He's got her. ]
( I'll be glad when we get off this planet, I think. I hope what they're doing works so it hurries up. )
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[His expression flickers in an almost-smile, trying to keep it hidden for the sake of the mission. If someone notices them smiling and reacting to nothing, then that's some kind of giveaway, isn't it?]
(How many planets have you been to, since you got here?) [Change the subject a little. Maybe that will help.]
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[ Smiles, faintly, it was a lot less complicated there, in its way. But she would never forget it, the first planet she saw when she stepped outside for the first time in years. The sun had been weak, but it had been on her face: it's there again, that hopeful feeling she had first shown him when his mind wanted to wander away to something worse and she tried to draw him back. That is the same feeling now.
Avera would always be a good memory, to start with. ]
( We got to do some real good there. Not that we're not here, but the whole planet was due to get crashed into by some meteorites pretty soon. We managed to help a bunch of families off. Makes the effect pretty immediate, you know? ) [ Then, everything felt good, and maybe it still would later, knowing she could stop the androids from enslavement. But, still... ]
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[He remembers that, certainly. And remembers how much he'd missed it. Not as much as another voice, younger, more longing, that pops up in his mind, amid the impression of blue. Lance always had some weird need to see the stuff. But by now, he can't blame him.]
(I'd love to feel that again. Or snow.)
[And a snowball fight. That would be fantastic. The quiet, muffled feeling from snow. All of it. But the topic changes from weather to missions, and he follows. Nodding.]
(Yeah. I know how that goes.) [Thanks Balmera.] (It does make standing around at a party feel a lot less important.)
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( A lot less. It was so... satisfying. I finally got to experience, what it was like for everyone else... and I understood why people could risk their lives for that feeling, knowing you'd genuinely helped. )
[ She'd felt it only at a distance, through the vault hunters and that had been more - pleased for them. At the end of the day, she had done what her father had told her too, and left so many of them to die. It was how it went.
It was never her feeling, it was borrowed from their victory.
Of herself, she had only been able to die to get it.
She curls in that little to him, no care that it's strange to an outsider that they haven't spoken, just stood, burrowed against his side in relative silence after the cursory hellos. ]
( Then we're here, and I guess I should be thankful it's something I know, but... )
[ That echoed feeling that she wasn't doing something good, something wholesome, not as mild as disappointment either. But disgust, for these people, for herself in being part of it. This is what she's good at, granted, but she loathes it. It's bubbling quick, and it's gone again. ]
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[Maybe that's why he kept with the team. Even in the face of... of everything lurking at the edges of his memories. Maybe that's why they all did it. They had to. They had to stay strong. They had to stay together -- fight.]
[They'd had their victories -- even if the fight wasn't nearly over yet. But the feeling, knowing you'd done some good, something right? Angel's right about that. It made the reason you fought more clear.]
[For all of them.]
[When she moves in, curls in, he glances down, concerned something's gone more wrong, or she's looking for an exit from someone. His weight shifts a bit, in response, to put his back to the room more. Block her from immediate lines of sight. A reflex.]
(You don't have to be.) [After all -- he certainly wasn't, when things like arenas popped up in peoples' minds.] (Just because it's familiar... that... doesn't always mean it's okay.)