[Thread] [EVERYONE] OPEN

[srsbznsmods]

WHO: EVERYONE
WHAT: The 2009 Cervello Publishing and Media Awards.
WHERE: Namimori Cultural Center, main theater
WHEN: Sat the 21st, beginning arriving between 7PM and 8 PM
RATING: PG-whateveryouwant
WARNING(s): *insert evil character here* oh, also, Cervello

Comments

[aesthetic_ally]

Dino's fashionably late, and he enters alone - amiable smiles to the hundreds of cameras and reporters. The flashes are almost blinding, but Dino has been in this industry long enough to be sporting. He has a first-class flight to London scheduled at four am, with enough time for him to mingle at the post-event parties.

That is where most of the action is, after all. He would barely have time to himself before he got caught up in the massive glitz and glamour of the fashion industry in London. (Fashion Week, after all, is such an important event, and he had already missed the one in New York. But that is a story for another day.)

He shakes hands, affords brief hugs and air-kisses to the models and assorted designers, as well as who's-who in the industry. A necessary procedure, especially after the news of the editor of Fashionista being pulled over to the Millefiore. Siren was still the Cavallone's signature magazine, but it had still been a significant blow

[srsbznsnpc]

If there was one thing that didn't change at all about the publishing industry in Namimori, it was the way everyone threw their parties: with liberal amounts of glitz and glamour, and just the right edge of mystery to keep everyone on their toes. Timoteo Vongola was usually right at home with this sort of setup (he had been on the scene for the past fifty years and then some), and nothing he did at that moment made any indicator of any discomfort, but that evening, he would've given the world for a chance to stay curled up in his favorite chair at home with a good book and a fire burning cheerily away in the fireplace. What he would do, for a quiet night and pleasant company

[aesthetic_ally]

Dino brightens - that voice is familiar. In the early days when Timoteo and his father were fast friends, and when the Ninth had treated him like his own son - almost. Even then, Dino knew his role, knew what the Ninth had expected of him and the Cavallone family.

It is rare to see him out and about - Timoteo Vongola had always been as elusive as they come, and it is difficult to blame him. He looks over, and it seems as if Timoteo had aged so many years since Dino had last seen him.

Older, but still kind. Still warm, and Dino goes over to him. He does not let Timoteo come to him, because there is a measure of manners, of courtesy that he abides by out of respect and affection for the old man.

"Ninth." He greets warmly. "Indeed it has. You still look as healthy as ever."

[srsbznsnpc]

"Come now, you're an honest boy! I've been better. You and I both know that."

Timoteo smiled up at the brilliant young man standing before him. It was a little hard to believe that the clumsy blond with a strange fascination for whips and a big, big heart had grown up to become one of the rising stars and most eligible bachelors of the publishing industry.

"So, were you finally able to meet Tsunayoshi?"

[xx100dontkillme]

Sitting at the back of the company issued car was bad enough (Tsuna loved to drive) but having a stiff looking Hibari Kyouya at his side was worse.

The brunette hadn't planned for this to happen but everything that can go wrong goes wrong, which on hindsight shouldn't have been surprising for Vongola Decimo considering the amount of bad luck he attracts.

First, he forgets his invite and had to go back to the office to pick it up and that was when he literally crashed head first into one Hibari Kyouya. Second, his tie was askew, shirt tucked out, hair in a mess (not like it would make any difference styled) and looking like he had seen a ghost (Hibari Kyouya). Third, he noticed a small print next to his name: Sawada Tsunayoshi +1 and before he knew it, his plus one effectively became Hibari Kyouya.

[derridamustdie]

If there was one thing that Hibari was learning to appreciate, it would be the joys of having his own car and thus being able to do whatever he wanted to with it and in it. If his car wasn't out of commission, he would not be where he currently was, seated beside a fidgety Sawada Tsunayoshi, itching for a cigarette, wondering why he had to go to an event like Awards Night. He never really enjoyed himself in the previous ones, with the possible exception of the few he had attended at a much earlier age, when he and Xanxus had been scruffy-faced boys chasing each other through the skirts and pants legs of distinguished authors and critics in order to dodge their caretakers.

How things change.

"Timoteo is going to be around," he said aloud, mostly because speaking more meant thinking less. "He contacted me."

Their car pulled up at the curb at that moment. Hibari stepped out first without waiting to hear Tsuna's response, and went around to open the door for his boss, to the flashes of hundreds of cameras.

[xx100dontkillme]

The Ninth? Tsuna stopped half way through his insert cufflink into slot A and repeat with slot B to turn his face to the voice, parting lips, only to meet air. Susuga na, Hibari-san, he thought with a sigh, wondering when they would be able to have more than just a fleeting one-liner as some bad excuse of a conversation.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he fixed the knot of his tie haphazardly and carefully made sure he didn't scratch the cufflinks (from Gokudera) before squaring his shoulders, wishing they fit better in the double breasted blazer jacket (from the Ninth). He was just about to reach for the door handle when said door flew open to blinding lights and a cacophony of sounds. Startled, Tsuna nearly scuttled back into the comforting darkness of the car. He hated attention. Present tense.

But from the corner of his eye, he spied a flash of sharpest grey. Hibari Kyouya. And for a moment, he pretended it was something else, something else to give him strength.

So he stood. And walked, head straight, eyes clear and as tall as

[derridamustdie]

The boy, to his credit, seemed to know how to move when he had to. Hibari took his rightful place behind Tsuna, hovering just at his shoulder, aloof to the cameras and the eyes following their every move. Entering the actual venue was a welcome relief, although it did not last very long - there were already a lot of people waiting around with their champagne and their caviar, chatting idly, watching everyone.

"Our table's over there. Shall we?"

[kaki_chikusa]

Chikusa stuffed his hands in his pockets, lurking in the shadows of the theatre. Getting to the Cultural center had been a problem, if only because Chikusa did not own a car and as such had to walk from where the bus let him out. Getting into the Cultural center had meant Chikusa had to skulk past the reporters and their irritatingly flashing cameras. If Chikusa had known it would be this much work, he would have stayed at home. Still, it was worth it to be the sore thumb in a sea of fancily manicured nails. Chikusa was wearing worn grey slacks, a nearly threadbare white shirt, and a black tie hanging loosely around his throat

[cueitup]

Handling the security for an event like this was like committing ritual suicide. Several times over. With a blunt knife.

After barking another string of orders to separate people over three different cellular phones and a walkie-talkie, Gamma continued with his patrol, making sure that the perimeter was secure. He had to, of course. His bosses were going to be at the event.

...And they certainly weren't going to be put in danger of any suspicious figures. Like the young man just ahead.

"Excuse me. Are you a participant?"

[kaki_chikusa]

That sounded like an authority figure, and not one he actually had to respect because they were paying his bills.

Though, Chikusa did not particularly respect Xanxus either. He hadn't seen anyone fed to the Liger *yet*.

Chikusa turned and looked blankly at Gamma. Ah, security. Giving a slow shrug Chikusa met Gamma's suspicious gaze. "Yes."

[cueitup]

What was with this punk? Gamma wanted to be polite and take things at face value, but with types like this, it was just a LITTLE difficult.

"Where's your invite?"

[srslyevilbzns]

One might think the Millefiore had a preoccupation with white, Byakuran mused as he slipped free of his coat and long, white scarf, surveying the crowd of much more subdued colors before him.

It wasn't often that he was able to attend award shows. After all, the Millefiore had only been in existence for a few years and in its earlier incarnation, it hadn't won many awards that a CEO's son would need to be in attendance for. Of course, in the years near the end, that had changed quite a bit.

"And, now, here we are," he mused to himself, handing his coat off to an aide.

[aesthetic_ally]

Seeing Byakuran there definitely dampens the spirits - but they weren't in grade school, and Dino is mature enough to live with it. After all, he knows that the Millefiore had been emerging as quite the winner in a few awards categories in the past few years.

He goes over, a flute of champagne in hand and a pleasant enough casual demeanor. "Came alone? I'm surprised."

[srslyevilbzns]

"Actually, I'm meeting my date here," Byakuran matches Dino's pleasant demeanor with one of his own as he surveyed the young Cavallone with eerily pale eyes.

How rare, he thought, for the other man to address him. At least, how rare for him to address him when he hadn't been caught dabbling a bit too much in the other's affairs-- and, oh, Byakuran was always dabbling no matter which company it was.

"Things have been busy, after all," he muses, "We've had to do a bit of rearranging to accomadate some recent staff changes."

[aesthetic_ally]

Dino's unfazed, unmoved at the last comment, tilting the glass just slightly in a sort of acknowledgment. No use letting Byakuran know how much it needled him, or the damage control he had to do because of the man's latest stunt.

He could handle this setback, definitely, and he's already more than halfway through it - making sure that most of those contacts on the old editor's list didn't decide to jump ship and follow her. That would be quite devastating. It's too early to tell, of course, but he had a reasonable amount of faith that they would stay, even if it was under the assistant editor now, who had risen to the challenge just fine so far.

"Of course. It seems like quite a mess."

[scarfyoutodeath]

Fuuta kept telling himself he wouldn't be here if not for Lambo. This was all for Lambo. He had to make sure Lambo sat at the right table (and not the one at the front probably reserved for people like Giglionero Uni), wore the outfit that Fuuta had picked out earlier for him and generally, behaved himself.

And it wasn't like Lambo didn't know how to behave himself. Fuuta trusted him, trusted that Sawada Tsunayoshi knew what he was doing when he appointed the younger boy as department head - but there was no harm in making sure. And so Fuuta entered the hall, coat over one arm and scanning the crowd rapidly for Lambo, or anyone with a familiar face.

[bovinocretino]

Lambo was disappointed to see that the shirt Fuuta found for him was not as bright as promised, and was actually even considered tasteful in some circles. How would he be remembered if he didn't stand out? He had put it on with great reluctance, though; there wasn't really time to go back to his apartment to get a change of clothes. He felt more than a little out of place without his trademark cowprint, and the unease was showing.

The fact that the people at the door wouldn't let him in and he'd forgotten his invite made the situation even worse; his reputation preceded him, and no one would believe the well-dressed young man standing in front of them was Lambo Bovino.

I'M SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR SHIRT, LAMBO. ;_______;

[scarfyoutodeath]

He couldn't see him, there was no point in staying here. Fuuta turned to leave and stopped short when he spotted someone at the door - or actually, the very person he'd been looking for.

"Lambo!" He half-ran, half-strode forward quickly pulling out the invite as he went and passed it to the lady standing guard at the door. "I'm with him - or rather, I was looking for him. Lambo-san, I'm glad to see you made it!" Glad? Fuuta was beyond relieved.