Post by giima on Mar 10, 2012 20:40:19 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 370px, bTable][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 30px; text-transform: lowercase; font-style: italic; margin: 0 0 -10 0; letter-spacing: -3px; color: #746B63; width: 370px; text-align: center;]luck, be a lady tonight ![/style][STYLE=background-color: #242121; width: 350px; padding: 5 10 5 10; font: 11px tahoma; text-align: justify; margin: -4 0 0 0; color: #746B63; border-radius: 0 0 50 50; -moz-border-radius: 0 0 50 50;]There it was: a grand festival set out for everyone to see. There were punch bowls, there were open bars, there was a DJ, there were poker tables, and (thinking of a few of his guests) beautiful, busty cocktail waitresses and their bishonen-counterparts (only distinguishable by the lack of cleavage) strode between the tables. Indeed, the place was looking pretty swanky, and to think, the owner of the venue had been a gambler and given Grimsley a night for himself to pay off a massive debt! (Keeping the Queen of Spades under a cuff always served him well. His hands were fast. One minute a card was there, the next another in its place, and no one could ever tell the difference. Cheating, some called it. Playing differently, Grimsley said. ) Speaking of the Queen of Spades, The Black Maria herself was curled up on one of the couches, wearing a gorgeous bejeweled collar. The Liepard was grooming one dainty paw, occasionally glancing over the growing crowd. Grimsley would probably return her soon, but until then, he preferred to keep her in sight. Maria had been his good-luck charm, a living testament to how he had pulled himself out of that gutter and into the lap of luxury. It was only after he had won her as a Purrloin that he actually started to go anywhere. The music started, the bars started pouring, and Grimsley glanced down at his watch, one that held a small bit of yellow string around the leather wrist band. Leave the bars alone, that string said. He hadn't gotten hammered since... Since a month after Unova got news of the war. He didn't need to break this streak now, especially with his current position. Yeah, he was a Sentinel. That's why he was throwing this party: get some Lux in Unova together, and bring in the new friends from Orre. Maybe discuss a bit of business under the table Should be a real party. By the way, he might have slipped a few invitations to Nox folks. Watch the waitors and waitresses, they might not be as loyal as they seemed. [STYLE=margin: 5 0 -10 0; border-top: 3px #746B63 solid; border-right: 3px #746B63 solid; border-left: 3px #746B63 solid; width: 70px; height: 70px;][/style][STYLE=margin: -73 0 -10 80; border-top: 3px #746B63 solid; border-right: 3px #746B63 solid; border-left: 3px #746B63 solid; width: 70px; height: 70px;][/style][STYLE=margin: -73 0 -10 160; border-top: 3px #746B63 solid; border-right: 3px #746B63 solid; border-left: 3px #746B63 solid; width: 70px; height: 70px;][/style][STYLE=border-top: 3px #746B63 solid; width: 330px; padding: 5 5 5 5; margin: 10 0 20 0; text-align: right; color: #746B63; font-size: 10px;]NOTES: AMERICA, FUCK YEAH TAG: Orre-Unova canons. Nox, your chance to spy. Lux, get drunk and party.[/style][/style] |