St. Peter In Chains: The Collection. [OPEN!]

[meanwhileback]

Who: Penelope Lane, her models, her muses, her admirers, the curious and the critics. ANYONE. EVERYONE. GET IN HERE!!
What: Penelope's long-awaited runway show! Finally!
Where: St. Peter In Chains, abandoned cathedralish church.
When: Friday, June 29th! Eveningtime. Show starts at 7pm and goes... well. Until everyone isn't there anymore, I guess!! For whatever reason.
Notes: IMPORTANT: There's going to be a bunch of subthreads for different parts of the night. Feel free to tag around in them as you want! I'd like fabulous things to happen here, people. Fabulous. Things.
EDIT: NOW WITH ADDED TERROR!! SEE LINK BELOW!!
Warnings: Scary things, NPC death, injuries... horrors!!

The venue has been done up quite well for the occasion, all things considered. The old pews that were still salvageable have been repurposed and rearranged to face the aisle down the center of the enormous main room, where a raised runway has been set up. Lighting and temporary walls, and even an audio system have been brought in and installed for the occasion, and the impressive wreathed columns have been dramatically lit from below to emphasize the height of the room.

All told, it looks like it cost absolute scads of money to renovate an abandoned space to this level of elegance; whether this is actually true or not is largely immaterial. As with so much of society, it's the appearance of the thing that matters most, not the reality of it. Perhaps that's a statement Penelope Lane is making intentionally. Everyone knows the designer is one of the most outspoken members of her cohort, after all, and not one to misrepresent herself.

And she is, tonight, for one, brief, shining moment, entirely in control. Take plenty of pictures; it won't last long.

AND NOW: THE REAL SHOW BEGINS

Comments

[gramarye]

"I'm not sure how gay opposite sex friends are, um... Yes, um. Except you stay in a cabin, and it has air conditioning. And they spell it so there are no bugs. And you have food brought to you. And there is electricity, and indoor plumbing. And someone comes and cleans up after you, and takes out your trash. Um... and they have animals like, brought in. Deer and such, not bears. And it costs like 500 marks."

He scratches his head, squinting. "So I guess actually it's just 'staying in a hotel'." At the bar, he gets another cocktail, something green, and another glass of champagne for Benji. He'd like something harder but is definitely not supposed to get drunk.

[cestrumnocturnum]

She's laughing at this explanation, in that sort of politely silent way that is more of a smile, coming to halt at the bar and accepting her drink with a 'thank you'. She won't be aiming for actual drunk herself, for reasons of keeping such excesses contained at home, or generally feeling a little sick if she indulges too much too often, but this goes for most things.

"I think it circles back around to being not very gay at all, but." But, what does it harm? Benji has no idea. She will just drink her champagne as a good distraction rather than dissect the intimate (OR NOT???) details of her housemate's friends. "I think this idea of camping, though. I went hunting exactly-- mm, a few times. It would have benefited greatly with all of those things."

Or, you know, living day to day would have to, but if wishes were fishes.

[gramarye]

"Mm. It's probably more fun than actual camping. I wonder if they give you a discount if you're okay with bugs? Or bring your own food? Think how many groceries you could buy with 500 marks."

Not to say that people can't spend their money however they want, because it is their money, but — Wolfgang is in this really weird space now where outside of the cohort, most of his 'friends' in Baedal are obscenely wealthy. That's deliberate, because he is... not, and he owes his current relative financial comfort, currently, to them. If it weren't for people like Kahnde, he'd be sleeping in the street, or in the Spatters, or in jail, or dead.

Even being here makes him feel weird. He feels like an impostor, like someone's going to call him out on trying to fool people.

Speaking of...

He waves a hand. "It's probably bad form to speak badly of the rich here, though. Probably. Should we be pretending to be rich?"

[cestrumnocturnum]

Benji bites her bottom lip, partly habit, partly indicative of quite literally biting back tempting words, a smile still teasing at the corners of her mouth. Where Wolfgang navigates strange social circles of the wealthy, Benji navigates apartments with trash on the floor and plastic in the window frames and then tries to help the people that live there with their literacy and that's how she earns her money. The rich can be entertaining if she wants them to be.

"It's only bad form if you're too loud," she points out, over her champagne. "And someone hears. Like this?" Here, she raises her little finger off her glass of champagne. Transformation into the financially elite: complete.