#rc134

The mix of the music, the vibes, the drinks, it was not hard to get caught up in the ethereal nature of the party that was happening in a place that know one truly knew. Pyxis's hair hung, gel making it seem as if she had just climbed out of the ocean, the pearls in her headpiece catching in the light as she danced with the others. The fabric wrapped around her shimmered in the lights, making her feel as if it was shimmering water in the soft light of dawn.

Pulling herself out of the mix of people, giving a smile to the woman who had been keeping her company on the dance floor, Pyxis watched her move on to her next partner as the redhead left the area. Walking to the bar, she raised a hand lightly to summon another drink as she looked at the person who was next to her.

But now . . . now things were more confused to her than ever before. Things she thought she knew, she did not. It reminded her of what happened all those years ago, where those watching her had said it had been obvious all along. Had it really be obvious? It was these thoughts, the realization that she didn't quite want to be home yet, that made her finally take the invite and go.

And naturally, as the Fates would have it, the one who caused all of this mess, the veil to rise from her eyes at least a little, was here. Honestly, he probably had more place than her. It was his birthday after all.

It was Cress' party, after all. Monty swept in, glittering in his gold, his collar high and dangerous to those around him. He commanded the room, and people noticed as he walked by - just as he liked it. A few people reached out to touch the golden robe - just as he liked it. And no less than three waiters hurried towards him to offer him drinks - just. As. He. Liked. It.

Oh, how he wanted to control the room. To take people by the jaw and kiss them, to run his hands through their hair, or to dance with them dangerously close. But it wasn't his party, so he must first attend to the hostess. He shouldered his way past people, uncaring if the giant structure around his shoulders pierced anyone, and pushed into the throne room. Elaborate. Decadent. Sensual. Just as Cress liked it.

Monty took a deep breath in, and slowly exhaled as his smile widened, showing off every single wolfish fang he had. There she was, the queen herself. "Your majesty," he breathed, eyes alight with glee. "I wish you the happiest of birthdays, and extend the most gracious thanks for the invitation to celebrate you this evening."

He took two purposeful strides forward, then elegantly fell to one knee, bowing his head deeply at her feet. He remained there for a moment, suppliant, the back of his neck fully bent for her. He then reached a hand out to take hers, and raised his head only far enough to press his lips against the rings on her knuckles. "May your majesty enjoy many more birthdays, each one happier than the last."

He released her hand and rocked back, lifting his gaze to look at her while remaining knelt before her. The slightest knot formed in his jaw. "Is the bastard king around?" He asked, trying to force the smile into his voice. "I'd love to..." A small hiss of breath as he forced a lie through his teeth. "Pay him my respects."

It was unlikely she would have noticed the man if she had not been actively keeping an eye out for anyone who may be hiding (as if they may jump out at any moment, ready to attack-). Retreat to a dark corner of the room herself had come from a brief moment where she could feel the lingering headache threatening to come to her temples. It was the lights, she was sure. Something about certain lights always forced her to need to blink her eyes and take a moment. At least now she knew the best places not to stand.

Pyxis Flannan || District 0 - Royal Court

The wine was flowing, and Monty had ditched his ornate collar in some back room. He'd find it later. Or not, and just buy another one next time he needed it. His loose, golden robe was a fine statement piece as it was. But as he tilted his cup backwards, he found it was - disappointingly - empty. Fine. He'd find another. There was always another somewhere in District Zero.

A few steps almost solved his problem. A silent waitress, dressed to the nines in frills and lace, appeared from seemingly nowhere to take his empty cup. A tingle ran through his body as her fingers brushed his, sending a shiver that seemingly caused her to vanish. And what a problem that was, because Monty was suddenly aware of just how alone he was in this room. Oh, what he would give to have that waitress back, even just for a few moments longer --

What was he thinking? This was District Zero. With a growl behind his smiling teeth, he struck out into the hazy darkness. He pushed through a curtain and stumbled across an unusually familiar face.

"McCreary?" Monty purred, confused but delighted. Mahlon was someone who he had seen in passing plenty of times, but had never conversed with. District Twelve typically didn't seek out his funds. And typically for good reason. But Mahlon was known for other things than poor Mentorship, and so it stood to surprise that he and Monty hadn't ever been more closely connected.

"What brings you to this back corner of the club? You shouldn't be hidin' - there's a party happening, y'know."

Finally. Montgomery was fully, truly, and honestly in his element. Even if the atmosphere of the club were still... tainted by the lingering aura of their false Victor, Monty didn't have to pretend to celebrate him here at D0. Here, he could melt into Cress' wickedly perfect persona and indulge in everything she had set up for them.

A bright smile sprung to Monty's face as he clapped both hands on his little brother's shoulders. "Everett!" he exclaimed, giving him a little shake. "This isn't your typical scene. This is more... my domain." He smile widened as he swung an arm in a large gesture behind him.

"But welcome." He couldn't imagine a better person to celebrate the past several months away with. His eyes swept across the party and landed squarely on the swords, glistening in the dim light. The medics nearby belied their danger, though Monty was sure they couldn't do more than cosmetic damage. Well, he guessed that, at least.

"Oh, we have to!" he exclaimed, dragging Everett towards them. He picked up one of the swishy rapiers. "It's just like when we were kids. Do you still remember all the training I gave you?" He held out a blade to his little brother, hilt first.