Jack. (
mightyfallen) wrote in
multiversallogs2012-06-10 01:51 am
party post ✶ now i'm ready for the last hurrah, dying like a shooting star
Who: EVERYONE.
What: A swanky party.
When: Sukkardi, 8 PM to the wee hours of the morning.
Where: Gibeah, Jack's new house in Syriac Well.
Warnings: None! Please place warnings in your subject lines as needed and I will edit them in.
Jack wasn't kidding about inviting half of Syriac Well. He may in fact have invited all of Syriac well but is only expecting half to show up. Still, it's his first chance to impress the people who will, with any luck, someday become his constituents. That goes for Syriac Well and the new cohort. (He doesn't plan to stop at city councilor, after all.) But, one step at a time. He hasn't even announced his candidacy yet; first, he has to meet the neighbors.
And so the house is done up with no expense spared, although care has been taken not to look too over the top. Syriac Well is upper middle class, and that means appreciating the finer things but perhaps not appreciating snobbery. There are servants, but not too many, and guests in fabulous gowns, but no shortage of cocktail-length dresses either. No one is turned away. The lights are hung, the food is served, and music wafts through the building. It's time for a party.
What: A swanky party.
When: Sukkardi, 8 PM to the wee hours of the morning.
Where: Gibeah, Jack's new house in Syriac Well.
Warnings: None! Please place warnings in your subject lines as needed and I will edit them in.
Jack wasn't kidding about inviting half of Syriac Well. He may in fact have invited all of Syriac well but is only expecting half to show up. Still, it's his first chance to impress the people who will, with any luck, someday become his constituents. That goes for Syriac Well and the new cohort. (He doesn't plan to stop at city councilor, after all.) But, one step at a time. He hasn't even announced his candidacy yet; first, he has to meet the neighbors.
And so the house is done up with no expense spared, although care has been taken not to look too over the top. Syriac Well is upper middle class, and that means appreciating the finer things but perhaps not appreciating snobbery. There are servants, but not too many, and guests in fabulous gowns, but no shortage of cocktail-length dresses either. No one is turned away. The lights are hung, the food is served, and music wafts through the building. It's time for a party.

no subject
She steps out onto the terrace, reaching down and grasping a bit of her dark gray silk dress in the fingertips of her left hand. She pulls a little, to raise her hem just enough to clear the ground as she walks down the steps and then onto the grass. A glass of wine dangles from her other hand, and she's momentarily distracted by the sky above as she heads for an empty table. There aren't as many bright lights out here as there are in her neighborhood; the stars are a little more visible.
She settles at the table, a second seat free for company she certainly wouldn't refuse.