Iosefa A. Tamaroa | Hierophant

How was it when he said "I have no further comments at this time", somehow zero people understood it? Samuel, normally hawklike eyes still a little dull and with rings under them that he hadn't managed to shake quite yet, removed himself from the podium after strictly instructing any constables he had pulled with him to deny making any comments to anyone, especially the ones that pressed themselves against the arms of his officers. Shouting over each other, waving microphones too close to people's faces for comfort. Lots of pictures being taken of his back.

The fiasco at the Liddell Hippodrome was still a mystery. Hector hadn't given him anything he could use, he was sure Viktor was conducting his own set of interviews and interrogations pertaining to the event and as he subconsciously reached down to thumb idly at his grandfather's aged bronze pocket watch, he concealed a twinge of his brow when it was still not there. There were too many questions, too many loose ends. His insides burned, but not from the toxin that had been administered to him.

All questions that lingered in Dante's mind as he effortlessly locked eyes with his... replacement. Temporary? He wasn't sure yet. He fully expected the other man to be here, but part of him wondered if their paths would cross, what with Dante's new fluctuating existence with the Jabberwocks nowadays. Whatever was going through that mind was well-hidden behind a trained mask, and it wasn't the one that tastefully danced on one side of his face, caressing his stubbled jaw. A practised smile had the man looking up at the replacement, but he kept his own hand to himself, an expensive glass of rich red wine swishing about in it rhythmically.

When: March 2024

Where: Liddell Hippodrome

On principle alone, Nikolai tried his damnedest to avoid these events thrown by his family. It seemed Viktor finally managed to outsmart him by figuring out that he was not expected to be at the Royal Opera House for the entire week. So, there Nikolai was outside of his house and among the masses. He sullenly drifted among the crowds, half mask pressed to his face (as if it did anything to truly hide his identity), in search of Max or Eliza.

As trays of drinks passed by him, Nikolai's eyes searched until they finally noticed a piano by the stage. A lighthouse in the ocean. Nikolai beelined for his beacon of hope when he stumbled into someone else. He coughed at the impact, mask only slightly askew, and lightly patted the shoulder of whoever he brushed against. "My apologies," he said, before lifting two drinks off the tray. Well, now he had to play social. It was the least he could do, he supposed. "Care for a drink as an apology?"

He closes his eyes, taking a breath and trying to recenter when he feels someone brush past him. Sefa starts a little, but looks back at Kolya with a bit of relief. "No you're alright, it's fine-" He sighs, but takes the offered drink anyway. "Where are you headed in such a hurry? Something else go wrong?"

He’s easy enough to spot in this crowd, due to both his height and the tattoos revealed by rolled up sleeves. Max’s babysitter, and perhaps the man with some influence on Viktor – gathering information isn’t particularly her job, but the opportunity is too amusing to let pass. Lottie smirks and makes her way casually through the crowd, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing server.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” her smile is all playful charm as she hands him the second flute. The bit of tulle across her eyes does little to hide her face, her dress covering even less of her body – wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen her in some varying state of undress, though usually with Max. “Charlotte Astor, but my friends call me Lottie. Not off chasing Max or one of his siblings today?”

Sefa feels like he's stuck on the outside again, pulled in six different directions as small things keep going wrong, but still out in the cold. Victor's been texting people, but no word to one of his most loyal who's practically working this event instead of attending.

He's about to reach out himself, has a most of "what's you plan for the rats, we're infested" written out and ready to send before hearing her voice, and turning quickly. Sliding his phone quickly back into his pocket and only pointedly looking at her face out of practice.

"I... No, I guess not. Pleasure, Charlotte. Iosefa, but Sefa's fine." He sighs, summoning a polite smile from somewhere deep down. "No, actually. Finally giving Max a night to breathe, I've got other things to chase instead."