Difference between revisions of "Logs:Party Foul"
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− | | location = Halekulani Hotel, Waikiki | + | | location = Halekulani Hotel, Waikiki, [[Honolulu]] |
| plots = [[Plot:The Happy (Eco) Warriors]] | | plots = [[Plot:The Happy (Eco) Warriors]] | ||
− | | categories = | + | | categories = White Court, Jade Court, Pure Mortal, Scion |
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The Halekulani Hotel is one of the swankier places in Waikiki -- and one of the more expensive. Therefore, it isn't generally known for its accessibility to all comers. Tonight, however, it's hosting a beach party, and while one still had to buy tickets, one could probably have scored them some way or other that didn't involve paying the full price. Or maybe one just payed the full price. | The Halekulani Hotel is one of the swankier places in Waikiki -- and one of the more expensive. Therefore, it isn't generally known for its accessibility to all comers. Tonight, however, it's hosting a beach party, and while one still had to buy tickets, one could probably have scored them some way or other that didn't involve paying the full price. Or maybe one just payed the full price. |
Latest revision as of 09:48, 12 November 2017
Party Foul | |
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Dramatis Personae | 3 July, 2008 A supposedly fancy gathering takes a turn for the weird. |
Location
Halekulani Hotel, Waikiki, Honolulu |
Plot(s) |
The Halekulani Hotel is one of the swankier places in Waikiki -- and one of the more expensive. Therefore, it isn't generally known for its accessibility to all comers. Tonight, however, it's hosting a beach party, and while one still had to buy tickets, one could probably have scored them some way or other that didn't involve paying the full price. Or maybe one just payed the full price. Either way, it's pretty busy at the moment. There's a private beach area that's cordoned off from the rest so people can't just wanted by too close, and a dance floor has been placed over it. There's a very well-stocked outdoor bar on the side, and the affair spills into the restaurant, too -- La Mer, in case anyone's keeping track. Nacho is there, of course, and while he has done much of the preparations of the food, he's also supervising the wait staff, some of whom are just for this occasion, and because of this may need some...well, extra supervising. He's currently conversing with one of them in low tones, a waitress who has the right look in terms of her face and attire, but maybe not her expression, which seems a little nervous.
She's near the bar, sipping a drink that's a vibrant shade of pink. She's in a creamy white cocktail dress that sets off her naturally tan skin; her hair has a bit of a wave in it that it normally doesn't at work, and her makeup is... well, she's wearing makeup, which is something she doesn't always do on the job. She might even, at a glance, look like a different person altogether -- one who is making an effort rather than trying to slide into the shadows.
A long set of legs escaped the confines of the car first, feet covered in a set of black heels that looked long enough to use as an ice pick, or a scraping device for an inner skull itch. As Eve came to standing, a silken, almost transparent skirt slinked its way along her legs, loosely and flowing, til it hit nearly to her ankles at the hem and rode low on her hips. For a top, a black, one piece bathing suit that looked pretty damn brief considering it was all one piece. Her entire back was bare, all the way down to just above her rear where the skirt rested at the very end of the curve of her lower back. The front top of her swimsuit was simply two, wide triangular strips of fabric that stretched up over her breasts, leaving a central V of flesh open to expose the inner curve of her breasts, all the way down to her belly button. While the two strips of black fabric did tie at the back of her neck, the sides of the fabric didn't cover much either, and left most of her sides exposed along with hints of side-boob as she moved. Looking over the top of the car once her door was shut, Eve waited til the driver ran around the front of the car and opened the other rear, passenger seat, calling out softly. "Oh, grab the tickets, Heath darling. I left them in the back pocket of the seat!" She ran a hand back along the side of her head, assuring herself that the absolutely smooth finish of her sleeked back hair was complete. Sure enough, the tightly braided bun at the base of her skull didn't have a single hair out of place. Along with her ruby red lips and the stark line of her black lashes and smokey eyes, Eve's pale, silken skin almost looked like a smooth, blank canvas waiting for color. "Bar first." She stated, after she was satisfied with her hair's texture.
The bartender, happily for us, is quite fast, and soon he's gotten to Fiona. "What can I get for you, Miss?" he asks her with a bright smile, the kind of smile that belongs on the front of a catalogue of university courses, as does the rest of his clean-cut look. None of that is worth noting, perhaps, except that maybe to make our nameless NPC worthy of a tip. There's a waterfall of sorts that has been set up on one side of the dance floor, and things are being projected on it in coordination with the music that's being played. It shifts right as Eve and Heath enter to a music video -- Everything by Mary J. Blige. The actual music that's being played is a sped-up, danced-up version of it, but it still gets cheers for its Hawaii scenes.
It's just then that the waitress comes out from behind the bar again, her tray laden with drinks. She starts to walk by the trio toward the tables set up next to the dance floor, when suddenly she stumbles. Or something. Whatever the case, a second later the drinks -- a beer and some kind of highball -- end up in Heath's lap. At least the shirt is spared. "Oh my god," she exclaims, wide eyed, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She cuts a glance toward where Nacho had been standing, and then says, "I'll get you a towel! I'm so sorry." She turns then to start hurrying away. Nacho has glanced back just in time to see this mini-disaster, and he winces, the smile on his face getting a tiny bit tighter. He starts to make his way over there too, but it takes him a second as he's stopped by someone else. He doesn't stay and chat, but it takes up a second or two.
When the waitress comes their way and stumbles, Fiona frowns, jumping up to grab a couple of napkins for Heath, and then looking at the waitress as she moves to get the towel. Fi's head tips slightly, curiously, then in the direction she looked, toward Nacho. "What'd you trip on?" she asks the waitress curiously. "Make sure the flooring's secure." That is *definitely* said a little wryly. She glances Heath's way. "You know her, maybe forget to call her?" she asks with a smirk.
Of course, she turned just in time to see Heath get a lapful of drinks he hadn't ordered. "Did you start the wet T-shirt contest early? Usually those don't happen until the after party, darling." She looked at the waitress with mirth in her eyes as she spoke, despite the fact that the poor girl ran off like she was afraid of lighting on fire. "Oooh, poor dear. Maybe it's her first night. Maybe she's pregnant and scared to lose a job." She stared after the waitress for a moment before she tore her dove gray eyes away from her and looked back to Heath. "Do you need my skirt, darling?" She made the offer without a second thought, reaching to her waist band to unfasten the top of it. As Nacho approached, looking a little tight lipped, Eve gave him a wide, dangerous smile that flashed white teeth so very evident against the red lips. "I hope your waitress is alright, it's damning to self-confidence to trip over nothing like that."
When Nacho comes over to check on Heath, she quiets, letting him give his apologies to Heath. She simply shakes her head at the question posed to the three of them, but the others might need something. Like a pair of pants, in Heath's case.
Turning her attention back to Heath, Eve just nodded and left her skirt on, since he didn't need to change. Swim trunks, even $250 swim trunks, were meant to be wet, after all. Giving a brief smile and a glance to the bar tender, she didn't make to help with the clean up, but did a quick check over the supplies handed out before she took a sip of her own bourbon with lemon and ice. Since Nacho had offered, it took Eve a moment to verify that Heath was alright, before she lookd back to the man in charge of the poor, tripping girl. "You could give her a tip from me. I haven't had a good chuckle at Heath's expense for a while." She slipped her fingers into the interior of a slim wrist band she wore that looked far too ornate to be anything but a bracelet, and pulled free a rolled set of bills, peeling one off them off the roll, which turned out to be a $100, she held it out to Nacho. "Just tell her that she made someone smile, would you?"
It's about twenty minutes later when a waiter, non-clumsy this time, comes over with a plate of various appetizers that seem Hawaiian-inspired, though 'elevated' appropriately for the gathering. Or whatever thit's called. They are not the normal stuff that's being passed around, either. "Compliments of Mr. Garay with apologies," the waiter says. And if they should try them, they are all quite good.
"Whenever I buy shoes in some crazy color, I regret it and end p sticking to the black or silver, myself. Luckily most of what I own is black, so it works," she says to Eve. Today's shoes are in fact silver, strappy sandals. When the appetizers arrive, she raises a brow. "That was nice of him. Perks of being shiny," she says, taking a sip of her drink (well, okay, her third drink, somewhere in that time there were refills). Her eyes narrow, though, as she looks to the dance floor, before she raises a brow. "There's a weasel on the dance floor," she says, pointing it out. It's a mongoose, but she's not a zoologist, okay? "That sounds like a euphemism," she muses, chuckling a little into her drink.
"Chase, what a perfect last name for you, Fiona. I quite like it. And no woman should live without a collection of available black heels, or shoes in general. They are, after all, the one thing you can always count on. You're exactly right with the colors, unless you purposefully have your silks died to match the shoes because you can't live without them. It's a pain otherwise." Eve downed the last of her drink and set the empty glass down onto the bar before ordering herself another drink, this time a top shelf gin and tonic with lemon. As the appetizers arrived, Eve looked them over curiously and raised a brow. "How kind, Heath, look at these delightful little treats. It reminds me of that fundraiser at the Chelspeth Organization, the one that brought in that chef from Charleston? I think we should at least try them if Mr Garay sent them over." She took one and popped it into her mouth, as.. come on... appetizers at events like this were meant to be one bite. Chewing thoughtfully, fully leaving the waiter there to stand, while she finished, she then took a second ofa different type. "Mmmm, quite good. You should tell him they're well received, would you?" She asked the waiter, before she put the second flavored morsel in her mouth and turned to look at the dance floor where Fiona had directed her. "Oh my." Naturally, she covered her mouth while she was speaking, because ladies don't speak with their mouth visibly full. When she finally swallowed, she cleared her throat softly. "I'd venture a guess that the poor, fuzzy, fellow's not alone out there, the others are just trapped in suits and ties." Eve plucked up a third, different appetizer while she waited for her new drink and watched the antics on the dance floor.
Suddenly the music cuts off, and instead there's a very 2008 computer-type voice that drones out, "//TOURISTS GO HOME.//" The waterfall display panel suddenly shows a picture of a sad dolphin in some sort of body of water, as well as a little land mass and a tree sticking out of it. Honestly it looks like it was done in Microsoft Paint, and not all that well. Along the bottom, it says, *RaNEW -- FIGHTING FOR NATURE*
"There's another," she says, pointing to another of the mongooses (mongeese?) just as it makes a break for their trio, climbing up Eve's leg. She's about to wack the thing off to help Eve out when it jumps off again. "Are you okay?" Fiona asks, but then the music cuts off and the terribly rendered motto appears on the water screen. "Middle school activists?" she muses.
Eve had started to turn her head to Fiona, simultaneously reaching for her new drink the bartender had provided, when... calamity. She didn't really have anywhere to escape, and leaping over a bar is something you leave to highly paid actors and bodyguards. So, up her leg came an oversized rodent, clawing through the fabric. "OH! For fuck's sake!" Shock was the primary color in her words, but somehow Eve's crisp, precise American accent didn't even falter when she tossed around loud obscenities. Eve gasped loudly as the fabric of her diaphenous skirt was fairly shredded by small claws, then leaned back against the bar when the creature ran off, taking a solid gulp of her drink. There was a moment to nod to Fiona when she asked after Eve's status, before Eve blinked and looked at the horrible pictures done by an utter non-professional, and heard the voice over the loud speaker. Just after Fi asked if it was middle school activists at work, Eve took a moment to stare. "Ran. Ew." She scrunched her nose slightly as she said the last word, as her eyes lit up with absolute delight. "Oh, that's hilarious." While most people were likely just staring in shock, Eve let out a lighthearted, completely innocent sounding laugh. It was filled with cheer that shouldn't exist in a jaded person's soul. Almost like her laugh wasn't used often enough to grow up as much as the rest of her had, and it almost made her shimmer with youthful glee. "Oh that's so good..." And she kept laughing, leaning back against the bar, like someone had made a rather excellent joke and she might start slapping her knee.
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