#cor.event

Where: The bar @the Conclave

She could see the freezer full of chilled martini glasses. Could see the lady in her stunning dress asking for her martini to be overshaken and the imperious man behind the counter just wasn’t. He kept trying to hand a martini to her that had been under shaken and criminally underchilled.

It was a matter of pride with some bartenders not to overly dilute their martinis. But it seemed to be more a matter of making the woman wrong on the bartenders part rather than a matter of pride in the craft. A proper martini usually had the thin shards of ice at the top but that required effort and a lot of shaking. This man had been tormenting his customer for almost 20 minutes and Charlotte just wanted a gin and tonic. So she did something she should never do. She pushed her way forward and leaned forward to snatch the shaker out of the man’s hand.

2 minutes later and she placed a properly overshaken martini in front of the woman. With a nod of shared appreciation for never being heard, Charlotte turned to pick up a pack of fever tree, a bottle of Hendricks, and a thick goblet of ice as she went to do what this counter obviously didn’t want to. Actually make a drink someone wanted to drink.

Shiv only came to this gala for two reasons.

One, to let all of Port Leiry, including their attackers, know that Kanta Shah is still alive and well. Two, to find a witch. Specifically the witch connected to this spoiled raccoon familiar and then the witch that tended to their comatose body, Thera Wendell. Whatever order in which these events happened did not matter.

If Shiv was lucky, these two witches would be the same person and they could kill two birds with one stone, but they're not holding their breath. "Wendell, Wendell, Wendell..." They mutter to themself. Wherever could she be?

Restless eyes hold a keen focus as they scan every face amongst the crowd, searching for anyone that could vaguely feel familiar. The hunter maneuvers through the venue with purpose, occasionally reaching for fancy hors d'oeuvres as an offering to the equally fancily dressed fiend on their shoulders. "Here. Try this one." The raccoon makes a face. She's surprisingly a very picky eater. Most of the food Shiv gave her has been tossed aside. So much so that it's leaving a snail trail of crumbs and half-eaten finger food behind the hunter.

All day, she's watched them setting up past the fences. Lugging in... stage kit, amps, speakers, subs, canopies. Clearing space around Warehouse 12.

The fucking fire department's there. The fucking cops are there.

This is a thing that is happening in her back yard, and she wants very much to know why exactly she didn't know about it until now. It's a complete failing, on her part. A complete fucking affront. She doesn't like surprises, never has.

Picking up the phone on her desk, she dials out on the ancient touch pad and growls a missive out to the other end of the line. Security doubles tonight. No chances.

Her eyes cant down from the window, observe the place. The fences are just that - chain-link and razor wire, Warwick-vetted rent-a-cops patrolling it every twenty minutes or so. The security chief, inside the security station, is busy getting his face melted off over the phone, the Alpha threatening that, should he prove to be as useless as his predecessor when it comes to keeping important files and dossiers locked up, there won't be enough of him left to fire. The small row of warehouses inside the shipping yard lock up for the evening, and Yuisa makes doubly sure that nobody's looking when she slips a very special key into it's hiding spot. The the offices close for the night, the shipping yard itself never truly sleeps. Security and Dockworkers are there in some capacity all night, even if it's quiet, and the rows of shipping containers create a strange maze for any who don't know their way around in the dark. Finally, just past the old Portside Tavern, beyond where the huge shipping freighters moor for emptying, a set of spindly piers lay quiet with a handful of small runner boats roped to the pylons, bobbing on the black waves of Leiry Bay.

Something itches at the back of her mind. Pulls at a monstrous instinct below her skin as her eyes drift from her stronghold over to a party unfolding as costumed and masked idiots begin flooding into the space.

SUPERNATURAL CONCLAVE & GALA

Bhavi Devi as “the Museum Robber”

Let’s face it: Bhavana has a sense of humor.

Everyone knows what exact recent heist Bhavi wants to reference but real people technically aren’t characters anyone from polite society should dress up as so she has to keep it vague. So ‘Museum Robber’. Which museum and which robber in media exactly?

With Remi a little down for the count Vanessa threw herself into getting their costumes together, hoping that pulling from one of their favorite movies will help lift Remi’s mood. She spared no expense, her assistant having found a “cosplay maker” that would make their costumes to measure and nearly perfectly accurate to the film. Vanessa is dressed as Meg, from Disney’s Hercules and @tenderrage-remi makes a very dashing Hercules. Vanessa begrudgingly agreed to the movie accurate flat sandals instead of her usual 6+ inch heels, making their height difference even more glaring.

Aurelia Kennedy as Helga Sinclair