「 ❝ play me a memory ❞ & — celebration 」

[Beatles.]

[Orion]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify;"]THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
And Frederick damn well wished the whole population would come, but he dearly knew they would not. Figuring that some would show though, he arrived at the bar soon with a smile and classy formal wear upon him. Soon enough, he was seated at the bar. Hazel eyes scanned in Elias' direction and waved him over, hoping that the male would make eye contact with him and would come over on command.

Whether he came over or not, would not shut Frederick's loud mouth. "Vodka straight," he ordered with a small mischievous glint in his eyes. "Looking to pass out by the end of the night, bartender." While it did sound like a joke, some peaceful sleep didn't seem to hurt him, so it was most likely that he was actually quite serious. Hell, it didn't hurt to get smashed once and awhile. At least he thought so. In the meantime of his sobriety, the sovereign took it upon himself to be polite. "Thank you for hosting us, Elias."

//stickied this!

[tinsel]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 20px;"]
bianca didn't usually turn up at parties. she was awkward in social settings, and more than one person could attest to the blonde simply standing up and walking away in the middle of a conversation — though, twenty years in a cage didn't really teach you social graces very well, so perhaps she ought to be excused for it. still, parties and celebrations were something she avoided, and one in her honor? well, obviously the blonde was more than a little tense.

shouldering her way through the crowd, the blonde found the two men of the hour, frederick and elias, at the bar. she wasn't really sure if you dressed up for these things, but she didn't exactly dress up much anyways. so jeans were exchanged for leather pants, light fabric exchanged for black in her camisole, bringing out the tan of her scarred flesh. her hair hung around her face, a social shield, but she offered the both the best smile she could muster, doing her best to ignore the anxiety that pumped through her limbs.

"can i have a fuzzy navel?" she'd learned the name of the drink recently, and this one she quite liked naming. there was something very satisfying in the dirty sort of name of the drink, and there was something sort of child-like in the way she giggled when she said it. but she was well over the legal age, nearly thirty, and elias knew this well enough.

[Orion]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify;"]THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
The male's eyes shifted over to meet Bianca as she arrived, a pointed smile appearing across his face as he did so. Finally she decided to show up. His general! His wonderful lady friend to note. Nevertheless, he stopped being so starstruck from her late appearance and offered a wave. "Why look who showed up," he grumbled with a laugh.

//kept this short bc bianca was dropped

[roman]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"][color=black]Per usual, Mare arrives to the party yawning. Not because she's physically tired, but because she's just so bored. Back home, before everyone she ever knew and/or cared about kicked the goddamn bucket, she helped out on the ranch. Primarily with the horses and cattle. Everyone used to crack jokes about her name—likening her to all the female horses she took care of like it was some sort of original idea. As annoying as it was, it made her feel apart of the community. Like she possessed a purpose. Like people cared about her. Here? It's too big and too full of concrete to ever truly feel like home. Mare is adaptable, though. It's not preferable, yet she's alive and everyone from home isn't. Best not to give up now.

An odd pair of one brown eye and one greenish blue sweep around the bar, drinking (hah) in the sight of all those gathered. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't know anyone. Great. Oh well, the two dudes are hot. One is younger and dressed in a fashion similar to her own. The other is older and sexy in the middle-aged guy with lots of Secrets™ kind of way. Both tall, dark and handsome. Both great to look at. On second thought, Mare is pretty sure the older guy is supposed to be the king or whatever, but that's never stopped her before.

"I'm feeling rather thirsty," she nearly laughs at the joke only she would understand (unless someone present can read minds), as displayed by the impish twist of her lips and the crinkle around her eyes. "Can I get something fruity? Like so fruity I can barely taste the alcohol?" Mare misses her Stawberitas but those aren't a European thing, unfortunately. She just wants to get drunk without having to taste it. Is that so bad? Her attention flickers between the two men, unsure of how to approach them, especially Frederick. Is she supposed to, like, bow, or something? Just because Mare lives in Griffingate does not mean she understands how anything works. Too much time spent drawing and zoning out to focus on real world problems.

[Beatles.]

[Orion]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify;"]THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
A snort left him. He would do as he damn pleased, no matter if he was the sovereign or not. "Bye gods!" Lord, he had no indoor voice. "That was an order, sir Elias." Of course, Frederick was saying that in a sarcastic tone, as he was no Prometheus or Blackfallen scum who barked orders. "Thank you, Elias," he finally managed to muster up with a wide smile, fingers fiddling on the edge of the shot glass. With that said, Frederick lifted up the bottle. Mimicking a tip of it, he then lowered it to his lips and quickly let the acidic liquid go down his throat. Tonight was going to go fast.

At the voice of Mare, the male turned to meet Mare. She seemed to be everywhere nowadays. "Looking fantastic, dear," he offered with a smile. Lord, she was pretty. It's a shame all the woman in their fourties were all wrinkled hags. Then again, he never really looked for anyone else. Man, Frederick missed his young days. All the woman in the world were his, but especially one was his prized possession. Heather... that damned wife of his. Even in the moment, he could remember his wife in his arms, the warmth of her body pressing up against her, and the sweet kisses she delivered to his neck. Nothing would ever be like it. Frederick would have to settle by being a widow. The sovereign still felt the lingering pain of her loss each day.

His attention wavered away from the two, finding himself looking over at the bustling men. "Ay now, fuck off with it, will ya?" the sovereign barked. Turning back to Elias, he laughed. "Now that's an order."