Post by Elizabeta Héderváry on Jul 29, 2012 17:49:30 GMT -5
((This thread is currently for Elizabeta and Romulus. It is set a couple of years before Elizabeta joins the Axis.))
This wasn't good. Elizabeta peeked out from under the floor-length gold tablecloth, watching the large feet of Olivera's personal guards move closer to her hiding place under the champagne fountain. They were combing the dancefloor, looking for her among the party guests. She had minutes before discovery, and then she faced being summarily ejected, tortured, and worse, the loss of a scoop that could pay her bills for the next three months. She scooted over to the other side, cursing the restrictions imposed on her movement by the tight party dress which by now had seen many better days. The coast was almost clear, just one elegant gentleman reclining on a burgundy velvet couch. And past him, a door. Not the way she'd come in, but this place was a warren. It must have multiple exits.
The man looked familiar. Elizabeta had missed him at the party so far, so she must have met him somewhere before... She mentally cross-referenced the guest list with past encounters. Vargas? Romulus Vargas... She scrolled through the memory on her instacam, trying to recall the date of that particular scandal. There it was! Zooming in, Elizabeta was sure it was the same man. He hadn't aged a day.
Elizabeta took another quick look for the bodyguards. Their feet were close, but facing away. She could do this, if she was quick. She smoothed her hair down, patting the flower clipped above her ear for luck, before darting out from under the table towards Vargas. She hoped the music of the string quartet would cover her movement.
Putting on her best smile, Elizabeta whispered urgently as she took the man's hand to pull him towards the unguarded door. "There's something very important I need to tell you. In private."
This wasn't good. Elizabeta peeked out from under the floor-length gold tablecloth, watching the large feet of Olivera's personal guards move closer to her hiding place under the champagne fountain. They were combing the dancefloor, looking for her among the party guests. She had minutes before discovery, and then she faced being summarily ejected, tortured, and worse, the loss of a scoop that could pay her bills for the next three months. She scooted over to the other side, cursing the restrictions imposed on her movement by the tight party dress which by now had seen many better days. The coast was almost clear, just one elegant gentleman reclining on a burgundy velvet couch. And past him, a door. Not the way she'd come in, but this place was a warren. It must have multiple exits.
The man looked familiar. Elizabeta had missed him at the party so far, so she must have met him somewhere before... She mentally cross-referenced the guest list with past encounters. Vargas? Romulus Vargas... She scrolled through the memory on her instacam, trying to recall the date of that particular scandal. There it was! Zooming in, Elizabeta was sure it was the same man. He hadn't aged a day.
Elizabeta took another quick look for the bodyguards. Their feet were close, but facing away. She could do this, if she was quick. She smoothed her hair down, patting the flower clipped above her ear for luck, before darting out from under the table towards Vargas. She hoped the music of the string quartet would cover her movement.
Putting on her best smile, Elizabeta whispered urgently as she took the man's hand to pull him towards the unguarded door. "There's something very important I need to tell you. In private."