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OPEN.
"Everything alright?" She didn't need any sort of magic to sense something was off, it was clear in the other person's face. An instinctive hand comes to rest on their elbow with a small smile. It's the lightest touch, poised to move away should they seem upset by it. "You look about a thousand miles away right now."
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open event starter, spencer avery
one thing is for certain, there are far more people here than were on the guest list. this fact may have his father in law in a tizzy, but spencer is determined to make the most out of the night. these big, flashy events are ironically his least favorite part of being an avery despite them being the very thing his mother sought after until her bitter end. he's eager for the end of the night where there's less prying eyes so he can tear up the dance floor uninhibited. for now, he's settled into nursing the beer that he's carefully stowed away in one of the bar set-ups and being an extra set of eyes for security since the masquerade has become more than anyone anticipated.
spencer spots a drunk woman teetering on her heels a little too closely to one of the museum displays. and speaking of that beer, it splashes out of the champagne flute and across the sleeve of his suit jacket as he collides with someone just two steps into his beeline toward the young woman. instinctively, his free hand reaches out to steady the shoulder of his unsuspecting victim, the burnt caramel smell of his malt beer now permeating the air between them. ❝ how un-hostly of me. are you alright? i didn't getcha with my drink did i? ❞
who & what: everyone (open) when & where: the soulstone
To say that the witch Svetlana ❝ Lana ❞ Romanova has been complacent over the years would be an understatement. Even with her membership in the Nightshade Coven, she has found a way to just coast by without exerting any self-perceived unnecessary effort to complicate her blissful peace. That way includes The Soulstone, an anomaly in her life’s philosophy because even if it helps give her a stable source of income, it still requires much effort in sourcing crystals and other objects to enchant as well as ingredients with which potions are brewed. Fortunately for her, mining was a passion, not just a means to an end. Unfortunately for her, she could do with some help around the shop. Lana had been reading an aged book on minerals and ores when a potential customer, more likely a curious straggler, entered the Soulstone, which made her immediately bolt up, especially if this one was actually looking for a job, ❝ Hello! Can I help you, fair stranger? Or maybe you want to help me? ❞
where: the forest who: open to anybody
The winter hadn't killed everything of use to her; hellebores and pansies grew well enough in the forest even under a blanket of snow. Though her fingers were beginning to freeze in her gloves. She needed to reup her ingredients; for purposes both personal and otherwise. What kind of potions witch would she be if she had no stock for her coven, right? But didn't have enough disposable money to be throwing around, not until her next paycheck came through, so she had to go about picking them by hand. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the first time, either.
The crunch of snow sends her bolting upright from her crouched position, though she stumbles in her jolting. Losing a fistful of flowers in the process. Her hand instinctively going to the pocket of her puffy jacket, clutching around a yet unused bottle of pepper spray. "Holy shit, dude, you scared the crap out of me," She chuckles, the other hand going to her chest, where her heart pounded. But she doesn't release the pepper spray. In this town, who knows if she would need to use it, however innocuous the other person looked. She bends down to scoop up her discarded pansies "You a night hiker, or...?" As if she weren't also out here dangerously close to sundown.
where: the emerald enchanted who: open to all
"The next drink's on the house," Aurelia leans across the bar, hand resting ever-so-lightly on the wrist of the person on the neighboring stool. Indicating exactly whose drink she was comping. If it wasn't clear who ran the establishment before, the unquestioning nod of the bartender before they ventured off to the next customer certainly gave it away. The smile on her face is dazzling as she turns to face her neighbor fully, head tipping with all the grace & curiosity of a cat on the prowl. "I don't see many people come in here alone, are you waiting on anybody?"
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Emilie sat at the bar, eyes scanning the crowd with quiet interest. The day’s weight was settling on her shoulders, but something in the air felt different—almost electric. She glanced up as a figure entered, a fleeting sense of recognition stirring in her mind. She took a slow sip of her wine, her voice low as she murmured to herself, "This town’s never quiet for long." Her gaze shifted to the newcomer, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "You’re not here to cause trouble, are you?" Her eyes glimmered, a spark of anticipation flickering beneath the surface. In truth, she almost hoped they were. Emilie never did like things to stay quiet for long.
where: westray christmas market (specific location is your choice) with: OPEN
"what?" theus asked with a smirk and a soft laugh in his voice. he ran his hands down his jacket, smoothing it out. "i always wear a suit for work. i had to bring out the big guns for Christmas. 'tis the season, after all."
who & what: everyone (open) when & where: oyster royale
❝ Welcome to Oyster Royale! ❞ The often unavailable (and secretly, to most humans and passing tourists at least, merfolk) owner of the restaurant, Izumi ❝ Umi ❞ Tokugawa, beamed with pride. While most people would see her more frequently at the beach or at the docks than at her own restaurant, today was a special day. Well, it was supposed to be. Her head chef had asked her to come and taste their proposed addition to the menu, which she didn’t really care about. At least not as much as most people, including the chef, would think. To her, the chef was the more experienced when it came to food and the menu, so why would she say no to something said chef thought was fit to add to their list of palatable, delectable, and profitable dishes? Umi smiled sweetly from the waiter to the customer at the table, having found a way to free herself from further conversation with her chef after already agreeing to their proposal (she just came to enjoy the food, not be drawn into more talk about sauces and temperature preferences), ❝ What can I help you with? ❞
