#event.bh

During the Phantom Manor Halloween Rave, the annual costume contest results were announced at midnight! Three frightfully fun prizes were to be awarded in first, second, and third place! Everyone who entered the contest had amazing costumes, and we want to congratulate all who participated in their enthusiasm and creativity, and thank them for their participation!

Third Place — Emir Yilmaz as Dr. Dementus. Congratulations Emir, on your interesting and visionary take on a character from the Mad Max universe! For your efforts, you have won a spookily adorable Halloween Treat Hamper! — @fridaynightmuses

Second Place — Leopold Fowler as The Goblin King. Congratulations Leopold, on your stylish, creative take on an iconic character! For your efforts, you have won a $50 drinks voucher at Aurora to be used anytime by the 31st December 2024! — @eclvpses

so far, so good. there had been a few hiccups here and there, but the first hour of the luncheon had been running smoothly. the food was to be served in half an hour, guests were still streaming steadily in, and saul had the distinct honor of making sure everyone was having a good time. he flitted through the burgeoning party, greeting familiar faces and complete strangers, when he was nearly struck dead by the next guest that he laid his eyes on. guests. thalia edwards and leon wozniak. the most familiar face of them all: his third ex-wife… on the arm of his… friend. boyfriend was too familiar of a term for his relationship with leon, but what else was he supposed to call the man that he had been sleeping with all summer? leon and thalia certainly looked familiar to each other, and if his heart didn’t ache just a little from seeing leon with another woman, or to see thalia with another man, it was the fact that they knew each other at all. and that saul didn’t know that they knew each other.

saul got distracted by other guests walking around the party, shaking hands or discussing the benefit’s goals for fundraising, which was a task aided by a nice cocktail. there were many on the menu at the banquet hall’s bar, but nothing would hit the spot better than a french 75. the first of many that morning, saul had been waiting in line to order when he saw thalia—alone—walking by. he exited the line without another thought and jogged a few steps to catch up with her. “hey, thalia!” saul called her name, raising a hand to place on her shoulder before he thought better of it. “how are you? are you enjoying the luncheon so far?” the pleasantries were hurried and flat, but thalia never appreciated delicacy anyway. “i saw you with leon.” best to get his curiosity out of the way. “i’m not being some shitty macho me-tarzan-you-jane kind of guy or anything, i just didn’t realize that you knew each other.”

Scarlett had been feeling...relieved lately, less stress and worrying than she had become used to over the last few years. It was a nice change for her, made her feel almost normal again and not just some random person in the shell of who she used to be. In an effort to continue shoving herself back into more social scenarios the redhead made sure to attend the charity luncheon that her colleagues had been talking about all week.

Good food with the added benefit of donating to a great cause? Sign her up anytime. Scarlett enjoyed donating, whether it be her time or her money. Navigating her way through the crowd of people with food in their hands, she made it into the line where the plates were being offered. "Can I buy about six of them? One for me and the rest for the next five people in line?" she asked the workers with a smile, hoping the next few people would follow her lead once they realized what she had done. Handing over a one hundred dollar bill, and insisting they keep the change, Scarlett grabbed her one plate and walked away—hoping to find a familiar face in the crowd she could speak to.

One forkful of food had been shoveled into her mouth when she spotted somene she knew...just not someone she necessarily wanted to talk to. However, upon seeing him she started to remember the picture of his face that had been punctured more than once and how it was safely tucked away in her purse. In that moment she had changed her mind—she wanted to talk to him more than ever.

Walking up towards him, Scarlett tried to sidle up next to him quietly at first, watching as he chewed on food from his own plate. "Boo!" she said loudly next to his ear, hoping to scare him before taking another bite from her plate. "You would think they'd keep the riff-raff out of events like these...right?"

location: The Weissberg Law Firm's Charity Luncheon

Having grabbed her food, she sat at the table and settling down she was highly surprised when she noticed the person who was at the table with her. "Micah! Hey! I hadn't realized you were back in town!" She exclaimed, unsure of when exactly he came back, but also was unsure if Saul knew that he was back. Rachel figured that he must if Micah was here showing face. "What did you get to eat there? That looks so good, I don't even saw everything that they had to offer because my plate was full before I got through with everything." She gestured to her own plate before she moved to scan his food. She definitely was catching the smell of weed coming from his direction which briefly reminded her of her own weed walk with his father. She felt like food was a safe enough topic, or at least according to her mind it had been a safe enough topic now for her conversation with Thalia.

CJ didn’t get scared. Not really. He fully believed in the afterlife, and monsters. He had seen Bigfoot in the flesh and no one would be able to take that from him. However, he didn’t like people jumping out at him. And on the way to the rave, may have flailed his hands a bit  too wildly as he rounded the corner, and smacked one of the actors right in the jaw. So there he was, by the entrance door to the party, perking up similar to that of a puppy hearing the ‘W’ word and hovering in anticipation, messing with his Batman mask — the hard, dark plastic a stark contrast to his bare chest — as he tried to ease the foreign feeling of anxiety in his gut.

“Dude, hey! D’y’know if the dude in the Jason mask is alright? Like from the corner?” He jumped to ask maybe the seventh or eighth person who came in through the door, as if they had any news or knew of the context of the situation at all.

Antonio’s been dodging most questions about his face — oh, yes, had a fun trip down the stairs, no, don’t worry, had an incident with a car door — and save for the people who’d been there to witness the random assault (Clementine) and the people he hadn’t found it pertinent to lie to (Rachel), most people seem to gloss right over the subject, probably thinking they’re sparing Antonio from further embarrassment. Nice of them, he thinks a little tersely, considering most of them are rich assholes who think about themselves more often than not.

He knows this is a good cause — tangentially, he’s aware he’s probably going to have to donate an obscene amount of money to the center to make himself feel better about the real reason he’s here: to find and confront Roman.

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, that it’s only really been two days since he’d last seen or spoken to his friend, but after spending nearly every single hour of every single day together for months, he thinks he’s entitled to being a little pathetic. Never mind that the man had shown up at his house and kissed him, made Antonio rethink everything he’s ever known about fucking intimacy in less than five minutes, and then dipped, nothing but an emotionless ‘no’ as a response to Antonio’s request for him to stay.

Roman Daniels does not get to leave him, too. Antonio won’t let him. 

It’s a little hard to find him in a crowd this dense, and even more so when he knows the other man’s probably hiding from him — but it’s after his brief interaction with Rachel that he finally spots him, marching his way into the bathroom, looking as sullen and miserable and fucking handsome as he always does. Even resentful, Antonio can’t help the way his heart squeezes at the sight of him, the ghost of his touch so prevalent it almost feels real. He pushes past some of the crowd, excusing himself in mutters, until he finally reaches the bathroom door and turns the handle.

At first glance, it’s clear there’s no one but Roman in here — good. Antonio lets the door shut behind him, then leans against it to prevent his friend access to an exit. Without looking, he scours for the manual lock with his hand until he feels it, then turns it over to lock the door completely. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stares at Roman for a second, before he finally decides his friend isn’t going to say a fucking word — leaving him to pick up the slack. “So that’s it? You’re gonna — what?” He raises an eyebrow. “Avoid me until you forget you ever kissed me?”