#ftwchat

Mid-morning, pool-side. It's still relatively quiet, because it's not quite hot enough to need the pool this early in the day. The smell of morning dew was still fresh across the greens, and it pleased Rodrigo as he enjoyed a late breakfast. The man was smart enough to know he should be taking advantage of this peace. If Hugo had his way, and if they continued on down the same jagged path, he wouldn't have a moment of peace for the foreseeable future. But the man knew what he was getting himself in to when he'd agreed to join along in his older cousin's escapades. Rigo was along for the ride. The entire ride. "Finally." He'd lay his fork to rest near the edge of his plate. "We pay you people enough. Mimosa's aren't rocket science." Rigo turned to catch a glimpse of the approaching body, amber pools flickering over the tops of his dark sunglasses. "Oh," dejection tinted his voice. "What do you want?" 

These were words Victoria had far too often heard from her father’s lips since she was nine. It seemed for the longest time her only goal in life - be pretty, make good impressions, get in with the right people. At first, she thought Girard just wanted the best for his daughter to make her happy, but now she knew better. She was meant to be his ears, and to know what she might be coming up against. 

Flashing a practiced smile at a passerby, Victoria plucked a glass from a passing tray, knowing that it was the only thing that would get her through without her sister by her side. Feeling a set of eyes on her, she turned and arched her brow, “Can I help you?”

WHEN. Around Midnight

WITH. Open to All

Where: Santorini Mansion | Second Floor When: During the fight

She could see it all unfold from a mile away: a Vittori bumping into the wrong person, the sudden raised voices, the first punch that made the party go silent. Like a flash, all sorts of bodies started getting tangled with each other, Emilia ducking down to narrowly miss a wine glass that sailed in her direction. This fucking city. There was never going to be a normal night out when a war brewed, was there? In the thick of it all, her eyes fell on the stairs not too far off. It was the perfect escape route out of the madness, security guards already gone as they tried to tear Vittori from Ivory. The King girl quickly turned on her heel, stilettos clicking up the stairs until the second floor manifested itself. The quiet was a contrast to the party below... and she knew all too well that she wasn’t supposed to be there. Nonetheless, Emilia pulled out her phone, fingers quickly texting Zephyr and Sera as she walked through the deserted hall. Fight broke out- i’m on the second floor. 

WHEN. Around 22:30.

WITH. Anyone.

Catching a quick coffee with an old professor in search of a small snippet off advice, had turned into far more than she’d bargained for. Frankly, she should have expected as much. Though it’d been some time since she’d stepped foot inside a classroom, it’s been almost second nature to her when he’d asked that she sit in on his next lecture - offer her own input. As difficult as her job was, the fact that she was yet so young and still standing was a feat in itself, without taking into consideration the city itself. Build on the foundations of violence, the city that stood around them held far more than the simplicity of natural history, when a war raged within it as they spoke.  Sat now, pondering old memories and hopes that she might have once held within the palms of her hands - now covered in ash and painted far differently than she might have ever pictured, Savannah felt the presence of another. Looming, perhaps barely on purpose beyond the bench she’d chosen. Light dispersed gently through the trees above and cast their shadow to her right. “It’s almost enough to make you want to go back.” The serene image painted before them. Though, she doubted she could teach, the crown prosecutor was not yet done with tearing apart the criminal underbelly of Montreal. “If, of course, you can manage to repress every memory of stress and anxiety this place ever handed out. Daily.” Lips pursed tightly, uncertain as to what the newcomer intended, though she certainly wasn’t paranoid - it never hurt to be curiously cautious. Azure hues cast across her shoulder to find them, “Decidedly, not a strong point of mine.” The ability of repression might have once been a godsend; to which she was only now thankful she was never granted.

David found himself walking in an aimless direction, staring down at his phone, deleting all the messages and wondering if he should try calling someone. Not knowing what kind of the stress the Ivories were under or if he had his name on the blacklist since he’d fucked up. So preoccupied he hadn’t stepped out of the way and banged shoulders with someone else, phone dropping from his hand and cracking against the sidewalk, “Oh jesus -- I’m sorry that...that was my fault.”