Please, Have a Drink! (MP Event Starter)
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Post by Lars Van Dyke on Nov 3, 2013 23:38:07 GMT
“Everybody, I would like your attention.” Lars’ voice was low, soft and welcoming as the corners of his lips turned upward in a handsome smile. The Commander stands in the middle of the ballroom, where everyones’ attention can be granted onto him just the way he prefers it to be. He lifts his gaze upward, allowing golden eyes survey the ballroom. He’s met with the impressionable smiles of beautiful women dressed in their most gorgeous dresses, and the numerous members of each legion hoping for a dance or two.
The ballroom in the Military Police Headquarters was one straight out of storybooks. It was lavished, pristine with hanging chandeliers and large windows decorated with silk curtains. The tiles were polished close to perfection and the pillars made the area seem impossibly taller. The room smelled of wine and sweets, courtesy of the large table covered with various foods, snacks, and alcohol. As the evening rolled around, faded sunlight peeked through the windows and illuminated the room with a hazy, golden color. The band behind Lars had stopped playing so the Commander could continue speaking.
“To begin, I would like to say I greatly appreciate everyone being here. I would imagine your travels were far from easy, but all the more, I myself, as well as the rest of my legion, want to thank you all so much for coming to the Harvest Dinner.” The way lies rolled off Lars’ tongue became a trained talent, still, people look onto him as if hes’ really appreciative of their being here. Some people smiled, and he can swear he heard an ‘aww’ or two.
Now, begins part two of his practiced speech. Which the ash blond can swear this is the fourth of fifth time hes’ delivered it, give or take a few words each year so he doesn’t sound rehearsed.
“As you may all know, the winter is coming around, signifying the end of the year. Another year spent fighting the Titans. And even though we suffered horrific losses at the hands of those monsters, this year was spent pushing our defenses forward and coming closer to a well-earned victory for Humanity.” Lars released a small sigh from his nostrils, although his smile remained in place. Many people nodded, and others even clapped. He refused to roll his eyes, were these people stupid? They were losing. Awfully.
But a few white lies are exactly what gave Lars the position he had today.
“This dinner is to represent unity and honor, a time to unwind and enjoy what we have to offer. We owe our undying gratitude to our brave soldiers. So long as we keep faith in survival, then we are going to make it another year. And the next after that.” He takes a few steps back to make his way on stage, and now even those in the back can see him properly.
“That being said,” The ash blond extends a hand toward his right hand side, watching two other blonds make their way on the small stage. “I would also like welcome my comrades, as well as my friends. Erwin Smith, 13th Commander of the Scouting Legion, and Ludwig Beilschmidt, 13th Commander of the Garrison.” Lars’ voice remains smooth as he allowed the word ‘friend’ escape his lips, he passes a glance toward the other men by his side, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. The ash blond takes some steps closer to stand beside Erwin and Ludwig; their height difference in proper order. All of the Commanders were wearing the exact same outfit; a darker version of their Military Jackets decorated with the appropriate crests, and a small broach on the opposite pocket. Tanned vests suited to fit each one of them individually, and bowties were tied nearly around their necks. Their white dress shirts were tucked into coffee-colored pants that followed long legs and topped off with high black leather boots.
“Commanders, if you would join me.” A server comes on stage with three small glasses of grape wine, and Lars takes one and passes it down to Erwin and Ludwig. When all three commanders have their respective glasses, the ash blond is the first to tip his glass to his lips. The other two follow suit, and soon they are all drinking their glass of wine, signifying the start of the festitivites.
“Welcome, everybody! And enjoy the rest of your nights.”
With that, Lars watches the music start up again and people begin to dance, making their way toward the dinner table like animals, and grab at the alcohol as if they haven’t drank in ages. (Which, more than likely they have not). He passes a glance toward his fellow Commanders, and his smile immediately fades to a disinterested, flat line before exiting off stage.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Nov 6, 2013 23:12:28 GMT
As Lars stepped forward to welcome the gathered crowds, Ludwig would have given almost anything to be anywhere else right at that moment.
Ludwig had coped fine with Lars being put in charge of the Military Police. His sometimes-friend, sometimes-enemy wasn't completely dimwitted, although he certainly acted like it at times. And he had nothing wrong with feasts or special occasions: celebrations and parties went hand-in-hand with the end of the harvest and the first frosts of winter. But he had never been able to abide the spectacle of the so-called Harvest Dinner. The entire event was orchestrated by the MP, and it reeked of wasteful excess. The overabundance of rich food and drink, the guests from Sina in their shimmering outfits, the band that had been hired specifically to play -- even the lavishly decorated room made Ludwig irritable. He liked art, he honestly did. But if they had decided to hold this party outside, in an empty field, or under several large tents, they could have invited more people. Most of this was pure pageantry, spectacle: a way for the MP to show off.
And Ludwig hated showing off.
Even the food had been fancied up, offered on delicate-looking platters or in careful arrangements of color and shapes. At the very least, the guests that didn't live in Sina would ensure that none of that would go to waste. Ludwig himself would take whatever was left to put it to good use, if he had to. And... well... Used to the hearty food served in the Garrison mess halls, things like vegetable stews and potato stews and... more stews, really, stuffed full of lumpy things to disguise the fact that most contained little meat, Ludwig had been determined to silently thumb his nose at the offerings on display. But despite the fancy way they'd been presented, the food looked good, and he felt hungry. He'd still probably take more advantage of the beer; the fanciest dressed guests were avoiding that alcohol on purpose, so... more for him and his kind.
And speaking of fancy clothes, Ludwig didn't like wearing those, either, but circumstances had apparently called for it. What he liked even less was that wearing 3D Maneuver Gear had been essentially disallowed. Strange as it might have sounded in his head, Ludwig felt almost naked without the familiar weight of the gear resting at his sides, and although he had insisted upon stowing his in a nearby back room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. If something bad happened here, everyone would be too drunk and under-equipped to handle it.
He always expected the worst.
As Lars concluded his pretty little speech, Ludwig helped himself to one of the glasses of wine, unsmiling. He had no idea why it had to be wine; he much preferred beer, and knew for a fact that Lars did as well, even if the Dutchman would rather die than admit that truth. But this was Lars's party, and Lars had insisted on wine, and so Ludwig took a deep drink from his glass, hearing the music and chatter pick back up as soon as he had. The party had officially begun, and guests were rushing the food and alcohol, although some of the more fancily-dressed ones carefully sidestepped the hungry crowd on their way to dance instead.
Lowering his glass with the hint of a sigh, Ludwig caught the entirely disinterested look the MP Commander shot him. Good, Ludwig thought vindictively, I'm not the only one who isn't enjoying myself. Yes, they all had a certain role to play. But this was a harvest feast. It would be more bearable if he allowed himself a little leeway. So Ludwig drained the rest of his wine and set the empty glass back on the tray of the now rather startled-looking server.
"Thanks for that," the Commander remarked graciously. "I hope they're feeding you too, after all they've done here." With that, he set off towards the crowd around the food table, hoping to find at least one or two familiar faces. He could always talk to Erwin if luck failed him there; Ludwig had a distinct feeling that the Scouting Legion Commander might like these types of fancy gatherings even less than he did.
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Post by Eiríkur Styrsson on Nov 10, 2013 4:43:09 GMT
His first ball... He didn't quite expect it to have been as he thought it would be, but then again, who the hell arrived to a ball wearing a dress if you weren't a woman? This was probably the most embarrassing night of his life, if anything... He was just glad now more than ever that no one even recognized him as of yet.
He definitely cursed the people that made him play cards with them, especially since he was already pretty bad at playing cards, but this was just too cruel. As loser of the game, he was expected to go to the Ball dressed as a woman, or else he'd have to suffer... Other things he didn't ever want to know about. So here he was, sitting at one of the tables of which was set up, this one being closer to the corner so people wouldn't think about coming his way. Wearing a long, white wig, he would say it matched his hair, except it was curled a bit and well, it was fake.
Brushing his fingers through the imitation hair, his light purple eyes traveled the room, catching sight of faces he knew and didn't know. Dress almost completely matching his eyes, he would say he probably looked exactly like a girl, which was probably something those guys had found in him as to why they made him do this in the first place. He had the curves, the round face... He swore he got it all from his mother. Having his ankles crossed over each other, he looked out at all the people, his cheeks dusted pink from the thought of being out in public dressed as he was... A ball gown that poofed out because of the layers upon layers of ruffles that seemed to make up the dress. It was irritating, to say the least, considering it had so much to it. He was definitely glad that it was long sleeved and the hat in which he wore kept his wig from falling off.
The talking almost instantly began to settle down as Eiríkur turned his attention to the front of the room where the orchestra had been playing, only to see that the commander of his legion was there, starting a speech. He was glad that took people's attention off him and to the commander long enough for him to go and find a new spot in hopes to not get seen. Holding his dress up a bit as he walked, he cursed the heels that he had to wear, trying not to trip. Soon enough, in the farthest corner, there was an empty table, which he quickly claimed.
By this time, Lars was probably finishing up his speech, the delay greatly appreciated by the Icelander. "Fjandinn... May I go unnoticed this whole night..." he silently cursed to himself, feeling so embarrassed that he was even dressed like a girl in the first place. Before long, the commander's speech was over and then the dancing was up once again.
Just great... Not only did he have to avoid people he knew, but he also had to avoid dancing, especially since he was already a pretty bad dancer.
Stomach growling lightly, he looked over at the buffet table, wondering how hard it would be to just get some food... He deemed it wouldn't be that hard, and went to stand, pushing bangs out of his eyes before he slowly and cautiously made his way to the food. He just wanted something small... Lest he wanted to throw up later. He was always sure to eat small amounts at a time, usually snacking, but he hadn't snacked all day, and he was famished. All the different kind of delicacies sparked his interest, especially the fishes. He went to get a small amount on a plate, then a bit of the punch before making his way back to his lonely table in the corner. His mouth watered, the very thought of food in his stomach sounding so pleasant to him. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad in the end?
All he had to do was be sure to stay away from the drunkards, people he knew, and... Well, if he kept this seclusion out, he might as well say to avoid everyone.
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Post by Emma Van Dyke on Nov 17, 2013 0:43:39 GMT
One of the most rare of occurrences in this foolish little world was to see a certain Emma Van Dyke without a smile on her face. It was during this ball, this "celebration" of the year, that the blonde girl in question was in fact frowning. The pout that was worn on her face was aimed rather pointedly in the direction of the commander of the Military Police; Emma's brother, Lars. Her mother, all decked out in her gorgeous finery as she sat there and enjoyed the delights of the wine, was too caught up in this new world of luxuries to even notice as her youngest child sat beside her at the table, sulking.
The girl had sat there and fiddled with the skirt of her crimson ball gown (Lars had practically forced her into the frock before dragging her off to this social event) and continued to do what she had been doing since arrival at the Military Police headquarters; ignoring everything and everybody. The speeches made fell on deaf ears, and it was only when her mother gave her a soft nudge did Emma eventually raise her olive green eyes to glance towards the stage and the three men stood upon it. Then, the pout had appeared on the girl's face as their toast was made.
Usually, Emma would have been so much more excited to be brought along to this sort of event. A ball; it was every little girl's dream to attend one and pretend to be a princess for the night! But... getting into a heated argument hours before the party would tend to put a downer on things. And this was the case for Emma tonight. The long-running "fight" between the siblings had been causing a rift in the family; one which neither particularly liked. However, Emma was just as stubborn as Lars was over-protective, and it seemed their arguments had reached a stale-mate as they continued to go round in circles over the same thing.
Emma wanted to be sent back to the Scouting Legion, Lars said no. It was turning out to be a never-ending cycle.
The girl let out a heavy sigh as the crowd all raised their glasses to... whatever had just been said, and reluctantly she followed suit. After a round of applause, the drinks were all knocked down as the laughter and excitement in the ballroom began to crescendo. Emma, still without a smile, eventually excused herself from her mother's company and stood up, striding away with an air of confidence straight towards the stage. She had a chance to try and fix this mess tonight, but there probably would not be much time. Best to try and get this over with as soon as possible.
"Excuse me?" Emma addressed the three commanders and gave them the famous military salute (it felt particularly strange to be preforming such an action in this ridiculous dress). A polite smile finally gracing her features as she faced both Erwin Smith and Ludwig Beilschmidt, though it did momentarily slip when she glanced at her older brother. "I would like to have a word with you, Commander Smith and Commander Van Dyke, if that is... okay?"
There was one goal to her polite request, one which Lars probably knew before she had even posed the question: could she return to the Scouting Legion?
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Post by Commander Erwin Smith on Nov 20, 2013 11:59:13 GMT
Erwin Smith felt rather peculiar wearing something other than his uniform while out in public but if he felt any awkwardness it didn't show on his face as he was welcomed onto the stage by the Commander of the Military Police. The speech he heard Lars speak was as familiar as he expected however just like Lars, Erwins lips were graced with a smile well suited for the event. Erwin had the ability to make any unease or irritation become absent from his face when the situation called for him to put up a certain mask even if it was not as visible as the ones adorning the guests in the crowd.
He was no stranger to lavish events having come to balls such as this yearly well before becoming Commander of the scouting Legion. Nights such as this were also one of the only times he would be in the company of his extended family on his Fathers side, all of which lived within the walls of Sina, perhaps he should dance with a few ladies just to make them happy he mused to himself. Of course such parties had long since lost their charm and tonight was just another thing that he classed as work. He was well aware that public appearances were important for public relations but he couldn't help but think he could be doing something much more productive and the longer he was surrounded by the opulent surroundings of the ballroom he just found himself becoming more irked at the fact that the funds that went to bedeck this ostentatiously costly event could go to something a lot more useful.
He took his offered drink wordlessly and nodded a thank you as they moved to toast the event. This would probably be the only drink he would have tonight, he hated the way it clouded the mind and even in a social setting such as this he probably still would not relax enough to start drinking and merry making, however he would participate in such activities as dancing if he was asked to, he had a sense of social etiquette after all.
He didn't feel alone however in the fact he probably was not the only officer or commander that was not pleased about having to be here.
The last thing Erwin wanted at this event was a confrontation but he had to respect Emmas determination and confidence to corner both himself and Lars at a place the realistically could not excuse themselves from, he had suspected she would aim for something such as this if she had the opportunity and he suspected that Lars had prepared himself for this sort of situation himself. Erwin seemed to have become part of an on going family feud between the two siblings since he held the power to support either one of them to the outcome they wanted to accomplish.
"Good evening Miss Emma." He said in that informal manner of his when he spoke to those he knew on a friendly term with or in this case showing that familiarity in front of his fellow commander. He nodded lightly, his face going to more of a polite neutral expression before adding. "My ears are free to listen at the moment, however I have no jurisdiction over your brothers." He glanced towards Lars, doubting that the man would allow him to have the company of his sister without his watchful eye.
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Post by Linh Nguyen on Nov 24, 2013 2:08:15 GMT
It wasn't often that Linh was required to make social appearances, but god did she hate it when she was. The air around her wreaked of tension and it was quite clear that the number of people who didn't want to be there far outnumbered the people who did. Honestly, the entire idea of the spectacle was distasteful to her and, up until now, she had avoided it most years. However, she was slowly starting to learn the benefit of having connections and–considering her current ranking–she figured it would be in her best interests to actually attend. Before hand, Linh actually had to go out and purchase a dress, seeing as she never had a reason for formal attire. Thankfully, she never had much of anything to spend her money on and had plenty saved up.
She sat at a table with some of her squad members, not speaking a single word to anyone, even before the commander gave his speech. His words fluttered in one ear and out the other, a dull chuckle escaping her as the crowd clapped–it was exactly what they wanted to hear. Linh could appreciate a talented silver tongue; after all, deception got her to where she was. She glanced around as his words concluded and she figured that she was going to take a step outside while the still had the opportunity to get away. She stood from her seat and moved quietly through the crowd, paying no mind to any of the people she passed or what happened to be around her.
Gracefully, she ducked here and slipped there, moving past everyone in the crowd without so much as a 'pardon me' and without bumping a single person. Coming to the edge of the mass, she slowed her steps, taking a few moments to look around, her eyes falling upon the bar a few paces in front of her as she blinked in quiet contemplation. She was by no means a drinker, but perhaps this was what she needed to get through the evening. When she was asked what she wanted she simple responded with, "I don't care, something strong." Sighing down at the cold drink in her hand, Linh quietly hoped this sort of lifestyle wasn't become routine. She turned to finally head outside but her feet halted her as her eyes met a far too familiar figure standing a few feet from her. Her lips pressed together in ill content at the unmistakable blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who had yet to notice her. So, without hesitation, she reacted–how she figured to be–the best possible way and began to quietly try and sneak past him.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Nov 24, 2013 20:08:57 GMT
Having retrieved a tall mug of beer from the servers passing out the alcohol, Ludwig turned and began to head back towards the center of the room, scanning the faces of all who had come. He recognized a few people, and he did a double-take upon spying a woman with a face he could have sworn belonged to one of the young men serving on the Military Police. Putting the weird coincidence out of his head, he went back to his course, pausing here and there to greet and say hello to the affluent Sina dwellers that occasionally interrupted his path.
Most of them were clearly citizens who had been invited by someone (Lars, perhaps, Ludwig guessed) and had nothing interesting to say. The subjects of their brief chats -- the harvest, the latest Sinian political intrigue, the opulence of so-and-so's new house -- didn't interest the commander in the least, but thankfully someone of his status could afford to keep conversations short. He and everyone else knew he would basically be kept busy being social this entire evening. Eventually, Ludwig managed to politely work his way back towards the center of the room, and had almost reached Commander Smith when he found himself intercepted by a much friendlier face.
Being friends with Lars, Ludwig had inevitably met Emma in the past, and he actually quite liked the girl. She lacked her brother's rudeness, for one, and whenever Ludwig had met her she'd been genuinely friendly and kind to him. He recalled that Lars had called her "stubborn" more than a few times, but he'd never really understood why, mostly because disagreeing with Lars seemed to come naturally to everyone, Ludwig included. He suspected that the commander of the MP had just been fussing about not getting his way. Regardless, when Emma cut him off, Ludwig stopped, giving a nod in response to the proper salute. Had he returned it, he would have spilled his beer. And he still wasn't used to seeing soldiers he knew wearing something other than the standard uniform.
"Hello," he greeted after Erwin finished speaking. "A word? I don't see why not..." He glanced over to where Lars had moved to, then his gaze slid back to Emma. She looked slightly anxious.
"I'll get him, just a moment," he offered, leaving their little group and making his way to where Lars stood, speaking to someone or other; he had no interest for that at the moment. During a break in the conversation, Ludwig seized his chance to interrupt.
"Sorry to cut in," he offered, "but I need to borrow Commander van Dyke. I'll return him in one piece." He shot Lars a significant look, then jerked his chin at where Commander Smith and Emma stood before turning and walking back to rejoin them.
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Post by Lars Van Dyke on Nov 27, 2013 6:29:07 GMT
The Harvest Festival was meant to be a distraction.
The sole purpose of the prolific event was so that everybody could unwind and forget for at least one second that the world was not overrun by humanoid monsters that eat humans for fun rather than sustenance; remind them that even though humanitys’ days were hilariously numbered, they could enjoy what would be left of it. Everyone could have shots of hard liquor until they passed out, eat tropical fruits, dance, even get laid if they were lucky enough.
Lars exits off of the stage with the purest intentions of just that: distraction. But to his dismay, he can feel an oncoming migraine because all of his problems are just accumulated in one room.
For one, The ash blond can feel the discomfort radiating off of his fellow Commanders, since he is feeling the same thing as well. Of course, all three were wonderful actors and could easily wear a convincing mask (it was apart of their job, after all) and although the ash blond did not particularly get along well with either of them (sometimes Ludwig, on a good day), appearances were still important in their line of work. It was good for people to believe that the Commanders had a good relationship, military and political.
When he exits off of the stage everybody seemingly approaches him at once, pooling around him like a flock of sparrows (which honestly makes the Dutchman kind of anxious) Men comfortably residing in the uppercrust of Sina wanting to discuss the latest government affairs, Cadets in other legions searching for an open position, even beautiful women batting their eyelashes in hope for a dance. Of course, Lars would be stupid if he thought this kind of thing would not happen. It was a party after all. He easily smiles and carries on conversation, accepting a wine glass or two.
He’s briefly distracted by a girl with snow-white hair that has made a comfortable spot for herself in the quietest corner of the ballroom. She was obviously rather shy, or waiting for someone to notice her…which was actually adorable. He excuses himself and takes even strides across the ballroom, offering her a drink. ”Forgive me for being so forward, miss. But this is a Festival, you know. And you are allowed to have fun. So please, indulge.” He does not bother introducing himself, since who he was is already a given. Still, he holds out his drink and watches her accept it with a smile. He’s about to ask for her name and a brief dance, but he hears a familiar voice behind him that makes his eyebrow twitch.
“Please, excuse me.” He says to her in an even tone, accompanied with a handsome smile; holding up one finger to the girl signifying a ‘be right back’. When he turns to face Ludwig, once again hes met with the same scowl very similar to the first day they met.
“This better be good, Beilschmidt.” Lars lifts his golden gaze to the direction of Commander Erwin Smith standing with his little sister. His lips part, eyes squinting a bit just to verify what hes’ seeing. Lars did invite his sister and his mother, telling them the event was absolutely mandatory, but hes’ unsure of that decision now. She looks positively radiant in her dress, the outfit something Lars had ordered and tailored to fit her perfectly, wearing her trademark headband and even the necklace he bought for her.
“What is she doing…” He asks, although he feels as if he already knows. With a slight huff from parted lips, he follows behind Ludwig to join the pair.
“Commander.” Lars nods curtly at the elder man, but the second he looks down at his younger sister his glare wavers and visibly softens.
Shit, she had the tendency to bring out the weakness in a man.
“….Emma.” He responds with a forced politeness in his voice. Lars is not sure if he likes being addressed as Commander by his sister. By someone so close to him… of course it was out of respect given their ranks, but it hurts a lot more than it should for some reason, almost as if she was speaking to a stranger.
"I'm free to listen." He snaps at Erwin without sparing him a glance.
“But it depends on what the subject matter is, and if you believe this is the appropriate time for it.” He states in a more scolding manner than a professional manner. It was slightly embarassing, everybody knew the ongoing family fued between the Commander and his younger sister. So it did not make sense to bring their personal rivalry to such a public event.
Of course, Lars had succeeded in receiving the pardon from Erwin for his sisters' freedom, but the victory was short-lived and rather bittersweet. Emma was back in the safety of Sinaian walls, which is exactly what Lars wanted. What he wasn't prepared for, however, was constantly being ignored or being cut off by curt answers, signifying her annoyance with him. Around the house she barely spoke a word to Lars, and if any were exchanged at all he felt brushed off. It makes him sad, but of course he couldn't expect her to just be happy with the Dutchman right off the bat.
'She'll get over it' He thinks to himself. And so he awaits for her to continue; completely ready to defend and justify his actions if need be.
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Post by Mihai Ionescu on Nov 29, 2013 3:07:55 GMT
As Mihai strolled through the party, he couldn’t help but be bitterly jealous of so much opulence. He knew people in Sina had it easy, but it hadn’t occurred to him they had so much to spare, on top of it all. There were hundreds, if not thousands of people around, from all branches of the military. The room shined golden along with all the candles, and it reflected back on the women’s jewelry. It’s almost too much… Was this what his life would have been, had he passed the test for the Military Police?
He was shocked when he first found out they had all been invited to the ball, but now Mihai felt slight out of place in his old uniform. He didn’t even bother looking for better clothes, as he usually just took the jacket off if the situation required it. It was a huge relief to be without all the heavy, uncomfortable leather gear though. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to walk around without all of it tugging and pulling on his body.
All in all, it was a happy night. It was a night to cherish Sina’s decadence, and Mihai couldn’t help but be a fan of the lifestyle. He reached a waiter to grab himself yet another glass, and he didn’t even bother asking the man what the beverage was. It smelled of strong alcohol, and it wasn’t beer, and that was all he could have asked the gods for.
He smiled over the rim of the glass, realizing he may have gone less than sober. Maybe he should’ve eaten more, it’s not like there wasn’t plenty of food going around as well. “It’s all you’re here for, anyways, isn’t it?” He leaned against the wall on the side of the ballroom, lost in thought as he swirled his drink around.
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Post by Nikita Arlovsky on Nov 29, 2013 3:58:09 GMT
Nikita leaned back against the wall as he sipped from his umpteenth drink, looking around but not really paying attention. He mainly came for the chance to meet at least one of his siblings (which turned out to be unfruitful) and would have left promptly if he didn't see all of the booze being offered. Damn the Military Police and their prosperity, he thought as his head rolled to the side. He felt a bit tipsy... and odd sensation for him since he hasn't been drunk in... forever.
There was some kind of... thing happening with the commanders after their long-ended speeches. That girl, the one that offered those delicious waffles from before, interrupted the scene right when all the formalities were going to end. Nikita walked closer, stumbling a bit. Something important could be happening you know, though maybe not as important as booze because midway he saw a waiter passing by with drinks and the Belarusian asked him for a refill (or rather, pointed his empty glass at the other with some incoherent murmur.)
He drank half of it in one go and continued to walk, only to bump into someone moments later. Woops, the clear alcohol spilled on the other's shoulder and back. It stood out and clung onto the other's skin, especially since the shirt was white and so made it look slightly translucent. Oh, he also lost grip of his glass and that ended up shattering on the floor. Drunk as he was, Nikita couldn't help but to giggle at that, despite the fact that it wasn't funny at all and that some people even turned their heads to see what caused the shattering noise.
"Sorry about that... Ah, what a waste," Without a thought, he bent down and started sucking the alcohol out of the man's shirt. Considering that it was part of the military uniform, it probably was a bit dirty and sweaty, even if it was washed, but Nikita didn't notice and wouldn't care even if he did. In fact, he didn't even notice that the person he spilled it on was Mihai, though whether his reaction would've been different if he did know was questionable at this point.
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Post by Mihai Ionescu on Nov 29, 2013 15:38:55 GMT
There were plenty of familiar faces in the crowd, some of his fellow cadets from the Scouting Legion and some of the higher, fancier crowd that he had known from afar. All the commanders were gathering, and he couldn’t help but smirk at it. It felt a little too friendly to be true. Anyone knew the little rivalry between the Survey Corps and the Military Police, but Mihai himself couldn’t help but hope the two branches would be closer.
The Romanian was just tipsy enough to settle in a corner of the room to watch the party as it went, and maybe he’d be able to spot Marko between the crowds. Not that he had any intentions of actually talking to the man, but he could use the opportunity to make sure his friend looked well.
That is, until he heard a shattering glass right behind him, and then the unpleasant feeling of something cold and wet splash on his side. Mihai normally wouldn’t care, heavens knew his uniform wasn’t the most spotless of all, but he had just gotten it cleaned up for the party. “Hey—!”
As soon as Mihai turned around to look at his distraction, he noticed the figure was gone from his sight. Not sideways, like someone walking away, but downwards. Looking down, a familiar blond head was leaning close enough to— Riiight… —Lick him clean. Mihai grinned, and pulled his friend’s head back to stare him in the eyes. If the brunette’s grin could get any more amused.
“Having fun there, Nikita?”
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Post by Lance Corporal Levi on Dec 2, 2013 0:24:30 GMT
Levi’s presence was an ‘official requirement’, and he curses those who made that decision and their fancy pay grade. These events were painful, as were most endeavors by the Military Police. It would almost be unbearable if it wasn’t for the free drinks. Levi wasn’t a heavy drinker but there wasn’t exactly much else to do. Hanji and her annoyingly chipper self, who actually came in handy during such times, had managed to avoid the event entirely by submitting an appeal in the name of scientific research, leaving Levi to play chaperone by himself. She was probably comfortably camped out in her lab writing up her latest discovery over a cup of coffee. Levi reminds himself to refuse her any future favors.
Levi was well versed in the art of self-restraint and wasn’t about to drink himself into a stupor but after two glasses of a wine from a bottle he couldn’t be bothered to pronounce the name of, the usual tension in his shoulders has eased away and his body has adopted a pleasant, tingling heaviness. He wears it well, with no change in his visible expression or stature but then again that wasn’t a particularly hard task to accomplish when one was surrounded by the babbling idiots of the MP by comparison.
Lars is giving some bullshit speech and Levi would almost feel bad for the crowd if he wasn’t already mourning his own eardrums. How Lars Van Dyke became a commander was almost a greater mystery than the titans themselves. The Harvest Festival was little more than a poor excuse to show off wasteful funding.
Somewhere to his left he catches a flash of blonde, the tall handsome shadow that is Erwin Smith and then Ludwig Beilschmidt – a man that deserved far more credit than given. They both were engaged in conversation with Lars and his sister, managing excellent impersonations of concealed misery. He briefly considers saving Erwin from it all but whatever drama they were handling was no business of Levi’s and he roots himself to the bar and orders another drink instead.
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♣ Welcome
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♣ Updates
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Hey guys! The Activity Check from November 2nd to November 14th is now officially CLOSED!
Also, the Military Police Ball Event is now up in the Events Section. Come to the Military Police Headquarters to dance with a date or unwind with some good ol' fashioned alcohol. The event lasts all through the month of November!
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♣Awards
Humanity's Hero: This honor is bestowed upon the soldier that has not only demonstrated impressive physical capability but has also proven themselves capable of great leadership and determination.
Most Courageous: This title is awarded to the soldier that has demonstrated true sacrifice and bravery.
Most Cowardly: This unfortunate title is given to the soldier whose fear has conquered their control over a situation.
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