12th annual YMCA Winter Gala

Jan 17th, 2012 01:48 PM

12th annual YMCA Winter Gala

The expansive lobby of the 4Seasons is quite the sight to behold. Costumed revelers stream in, making their way down the hallway that leads to the conference and ballrooms. The crowd is dressed in the garb of the 1920s and 30s, with varying degrees of authenticity. Women wearing faux pearl necklaces and flappers mix with men decked out in suspenders and fedoras. Voluminous zoot suits clash with folks dressed as classic train hopping hobos.

A velvet rope cuts the flow in the hall before two ballrooms, opposite each other. At the rope are an older black man in a double breasted suit totting a tommy-gun and three college aged boys, dressed as 30's thugs stand. The boys collect donations from arriving guests and hand out gambling money while the older gentleman asking for the secret password. Everyone gets in eventually, those without the password are playfully questioned about being a 'snitch' and 'G-Man.'

The two largest of the hotel's ballrooms, which face each other, have been transformed for the event. In the first, a buffet and tables are laid out for party goers to experience the culinary wonders of Mrs. Rosemary. Captain Blood and The Jazz Singer are projected without sound on the walls of the room and live jazz music is supplied by the hotel's entertainment staff. FDR election posters are side beside mug shots of the likes of John Dillenger and Al Capone. Part of the room is left completely open. a small sign indicates it will be the location of prize auctions later on in the night. Some couples use the area to dance to the live music.

The second room is far more lively. A bar runs along one of the walls, manned by several bartenders. Roulette and Black Jack tables dominate half room, manned by a mix of college aged kids in varying degrees of period garb. The other half the room is a dance floor, classic era bands like the Benny Goodman Orchestra and the all female Blue Bells are played by a DJ in the corner, mixed in are contemporary sounds like Big Bad Voodoo Daddy and Matt Dusk. Posters of bootlegers and rum runners dot the walls.

YMCA members, local business owners and a variety of philanthropists mingle in the rooms. Otto Fishcer the evenings MC, zoot suited and armed with a dirty martini, meanders the gambling room. The Beast mingles with the more finely dressed party goers entertaining them with a very authentic sounding 30s dialect. Little do any of the humans he speaks with know that he had actually gown up in the 30s and the evening was one big nostalgia party for him.

**Kathritana** · Jan 17th, 2012 04:48 PM

Regina stood in the lobby of the Four Seasons, amused by the masses of people attending the charity event. She had reinforced her mask, as the notice had asked. She is dressed in a red and black flapper dress that likely isn't wholly accurate but is comfortable and easy to dance in.

Walking down the hallway, she is able to admire the many others in their costumes and period clothing. It was nice to see so many people had turned out for the event, joy and excitement written clearly on their faces.

She could almost feel their emotions press around her, and for a moment she wants to feed on the joy, luxuriate in the strong emotion. Being a little low on glamour strengthens the urge, and she feels herself waver. It would be easy, so easy, to just relax a little and feed on the all the emotion around her.

But that would lead to the possibility of exposing herself. She could risk such a thing at the nightclub, with the dark lightning, drunk masses and general acceptance of the weird. Here it was important to appear as human as possible, and she was not going to cause trouble in the freehold, especially as she had just made herself known to the courts.

Shaking herself mentally, she firmly tells herself 'no'. It was neither the time or the place for such a thing.

Reaching the doors to ballrooms, Regina stands on tiptoe to whisper “Chicago typewriter” in the ear of the man who seems to be guarding the entrance of the fundraiser with a tommy gun. With a smile and a laugh, she moves onto the boys standing near the armed man, handing them her donation and accepting gambling money in return. She certainly had the money to spare, between forging documents and working as a bartender.

Deciding that she needs a distraction, she heads into the gambling room. She grabs a mixed drink at the bar before moving along to watch a game of blackjack.

Flapper Dress

**Rust Mane** · Jan 18th, 2012 12:49 AM

Suits are fine, but formal period clothing is a different animal altogether. Rust ignores the way the cloth bunches at his stiff joints, the way the shoulders hug too tightly.
He should have seen a tailor.

The mass is of people is like an ocean and Rust forgets for a moment he is a cloud of oil. The warmth of flesh is soothing and soon the chill of the night dissipates from his real metal form.
He is just an intense looking man with a dry sense of humor and a tendency to forget to smile.

Raw rust colored hair is slicked beneath the fedora and his spats are straight. Rust thinks he might have made an excellent Mobster back in the day. Perhaps he would have? Time in Arcadia is tricksy that way. Spartan largely believes he was born in ancient Greece.
If that could be true.

The thought of his brother makes Rust frown and so it is with a snarl he shoulders past the man asking for passwords. "I don't need one." This likely drew a gail of amusement from the normal folk behind him. But Rust has already moved on to trad his donation for the gambling money. He is not really here for the jokes. Rust takes a drink as a martini platter drifts by. The atmosphere of the Seasons draws on other memories of when Rust ruled this place as a King.
As a good King. Rust wondered if that even mattered now. One wrong choice means everything and nothing. It was done.

It's not easy to spot Otto, even as he moves about like a celebrity in the party.
"Otto. You devil of a rat." Rust reveals a roguish grin as he squares off with the beast. Too many teeth to be pleasant, too bright to be cruel.
"Anyone else here we know. I'm a poor one for faces sometimes."

Mobster Pimp

Jan 18th, 2012 07:57 AM

Rook turned up because he had to, not because he particularly cared for the 30s. In his opinion, nostalgia was a waste of energy. Sure, he could have spent all his time moping for the 70s, when he'd been a young man and the biggest problem in the world was presumably, the odds of whether or not the Soviet Union would finally do what it had been threatening to do for some years, and turn the entire world to ashes. Or whether it would be a pre-emptive strike that would do it first. As it turned out, neither of those things had happened.

Or he could have tried to live in the moments when he'd still been a married man with a family that wasn't broken by his own actions and the machinations of something, something that had interfered for no reason that the Constable of Calefaction could understand. All of those things were possible.

They were also a sign of weakness. Living in the past was for people who had given up on the present and couldn't face the future. His concession to the theme was that he was wearing a fedora. And he looked like a G-man no matter what he did, so why not? The mirrored sunglasses only helped that.

Rook was really there because he was the 4 Seasons pianist, because he played a mean Jazz tune when he felt like it, and because he'd promised someone a piano lesson. He did however, pretty badly miss his cue when he heard the furore at the door from Rust's entrance. Irritated at the miskey, knowing full well it had been made because for a split second, the Board had swung into his mind, he redoubled his playing until it was near-flawless again.

I wouldn't have made a mistake like that before.

It would remain a source of irritation until he had played flawlessly for several nights. Rook was a proud man, and he took his own mistakes extremely personally. Particularly when it came to something he knew perfectly well that he was talented at.

Had been talented at.

Seige weapons don't play the piano.

failure, reroll 4 successes

Mask hardened

**Terri Nutkins** · Jan 19th, 2012 11:35 AM

When Terri entered the 4 Seasons, she couldn't hep but be impressed by the change of scenery and just how magnificent everything looked. She had even found a dress from the stock she'd been packing away, ready to send back to the designers. At first, Terri had glanced over it without a second look but actually trying it on and she realized it would suit the evening's events just perfectly. After leaving the store, she'd stopped off at the bank to get some cash, ready to try her luck at the roulette wheel. WHen she heard the music, she smiled. Maybe she would even have a dance later.

Seeing some of the freehold's fae already arrived, Terri gave a friendly smile and wave, noting how Rook was once again at the piano, working. Leaving him for the moment so as not to disturb his playing, Terri approached Otto and Rust.

"My, my, gentlemen, both looking rather dapper, I see."

Dress

**Kathritana** · Jan 19th, 2012 12:39 PM

With a sigh, Regina wanders away from the blackjack tables. Watching the game wasn't as diverting as she had though it would be. The press of humans around her makes her feel more alien, and for a moment she feels the sharp ache of loneliness. She hates feeling lonely.

She moves about the room again, looking for other changelings. Surely others had shown up by now; the notice had been posted in the freehold for a while. Looking about the room, she finally spots some familiar faces. With a soft smile, she approaches the group, noticing a new face in the bunch.

“Hello, Rust. Greetings, Otto,” Regina greets them, a soft smile on her face. The loneliness abates, and she feels herself again.

She looks at the other girl. Upon closer examination, she did look familiar. From the ash run, perhaps? “Hello. I'm Regina,” she introduces herself. “It's good to meet you.”

**Terri Nutkins** · Jan 19th, 2012 02:34 PM

"Hi there," Terri says, extending a hand to the Elemental. "Terri Nutkins-Pereg. Love the dress!" she added, her friendly manner shining through.

Jan 19th, 2012 04:46 PM

"Well, I do make a good rat." Otto said with a smirk and a shrug. Glancing around he made to point out Regina when both her and Terri so conveniently approached them. "Well Terri, me and Alex are dapper. But you are most definitely Dillinger in that dress. " The Beast said with a wink, specifically using Rust's..well human name. He mental note to try and not think of Rust as Rust anymore. "Hey Regina." Noting the lack of drinks in the women's hands, he decided to remedy that. "I"ll see if I can rustle up some drinks for you skirts." he says as heads for the bar.

zoot suit

**Rust Mane** · Jan 19th, 2012 04:47 PM

Rust beams wide at the compliment. Thrilled to see Terri.

Only now she is married, Rust coughs and shoves a mask of simple pleasure over his enthusiasm. "I think 'dapper' is what was called for?" Rust glances at Otto then turns as Regina steps up, recgonzing her beneath the gorgerous woman she pretends to be.

Suddenly Rust feels ashamed for thinking in such a way. This is Regina. She is not pretending.
So neither is Rust? The Elemental's head begins to ache. "Regina, you look stunning."

**Kathritana** · Jan 19th, 2012 07:48 PM

Regina smiles back at Terri, admiring the woman's dress. Terri had excellent taste in clothing. "And you look lovely as well. You'll have to tell me where you got that dress!" She would have to check out the store where the woman had found such a creation. If they had anything in her colors or style, she would certainly have a ball shopping there. She has a slight weakness for beautiful clothing, one that she doesn't mind indulging.

She looks up at Rust, practically glowing from the compliment. "Thank you, Rust... or would you prefer Alex?" She pauses for a moment, looking him over, a gleam of appreciation in her eyes when she finishes. "And Terri and Otto are correct, you do look quite dapper. The style suits you."

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2012-01-18 07:52:35	Rook rolls 7 to Dexterity 3 + Expression 4 + Spec -1 reroll	9, 6, 9, 10, 4, 8, 2	4 successes
2012-01-18 07:51:58	Rook rolls 8 to Dexterity 3 + Expression 4 + Spec	2, 5, 4, 7, 2, 5, 6, 3	failure

12th annual YMCA Winter Gala

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