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[color=#de9b8f][b]#de9b8f[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0024/5936/9523/files/Ecommerce_Crop-24-10-30_KaleidoBallerinaDress_GOLD__0099_ECOMM_556x.jpg?v=1731686287][color=9b9b9b][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=9b9b9b][b]chariselle's cabin -> party[/b][/color]
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Sometimes fashion was preparing for war.

In her experience, an outfit could make or break what she needed it to. An invitation to a party? Getting in to a nightclub with a 3 year waitlist? Chariselle knew that if she put something together it would open doors. Sure, she could hack it by using her powers, but sometimes it was just easier to let the basic human instinct take over.

She knew this would be different. She knew she was amongst others like her. And while she was confident she could win over the hearts and minds of everyone, it was better to be equipped. A warrior didn't go into battle without armor, after all. Chariselle stood in her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her outfit for the party hung on a hook by the door. A dress she specifically asked for, tailor-made to give her figure every ounce of highlight, shimmering without the need for light. While she had plans, grand plans at that, tonight was merely step one. She wanted to make a good impression, perhaps even find some allies. If nothing else, at least a warm body to bring back home before the night was over.

Chariselle flopped back on her bed, letting the soft threads mesh on her skin. She took a moment, only a moment, to let out the breath she had been holding since she set foot off the plane. She was in her own space so she allowed this moment of weakness. Her mind raced to her mother, the ever-not-present being whom she dedicated most of her life finding and vying to impress. What would she say to all of this? Would she be proud of who Chariselle turned out to be? Crafted to make the most of the gifts bestowed upon her? Chariselle felt goosebumps across her arms like the temperature dropped suddenly despite the heat in her cabin. She shut her eyes. Some part of her loved the thrill, the chase, the game. But at times, few moments stretched out in front of her, where she hoped for anything but. 

The moment passed as it so often did. She quickly got up and turned back to the mirror. A look of determination drew across the reflections face as if to say 'you got this'. With a nod, Chariselle made her way into her bathroom, hew full glam on the counter as she got ready. Hair perfectly flowing down with hints of glitter speckled throughout. Shimmer on her eyelids and cheeks, an ever present kiss of strawberry champagne on her lips. Once satisfied she took the dress and put it on. She strepped on her heels and checked the mirror again. Satisfaction warmed her back up again. Battle-ready, she headed out the front door, into the cold night.

[hr]

Well, she assumed it would be a cold night. As it turned out, despite the snow that contiued to fall, it felt perfectly fine outside. Chariselle was a bit surprised and then remembered she was amongst her kind, of [i]course[/i] someone would be able to control the weather. Chariselle was left alone with her thoughts, a dangerous combination, so she took the time to admire the camp itself. She expected it to be catered to the literal children of gods and, thus far, everything seemed just so. Chariselle wondered if elsewhere in the world there were people enjoying the New Year like they were. Sheltered in their bubble. A pleasant bubble, to be sure, but one all the same. 

Chariselle walked along the path that led to the party proper. Whoever had designed all of it (it was probably that one woman Sylas mentioned, Andy or something). Chariselle had to admit it looked nice. Everything one would need for a New Year's party complete with a countdown clock, food, and drinks ever flowing. 

Chariselle made her way straight to the booze and procured herself a glass of something bubbly before she turned to face the rest. A few others were there, noticeably. She lifted her glass to them in passing but her senses were still on. A figure she had glance at briefly before caught her attention at the....what was it called?....the beanback throwing game she saw at many bars where some liqoured-up, horndog, college-frat type always made a beeline toward to show off before inevitably tripping over his own feet. 

The man himself was certainly not a frat guy. His vibes along sent her in a meditative state. He was someone to get-to-know. She made her way over allowing him to take her in before she fully approached. [color=#de9b8f]"I'll admit, I've seen this game many a time but never played it myself. You mind if I join you?"[/color] Chariselle got the sense there was someone else there, but her focus was on the man in front of her. It was as if the edges of her vision blurred and anything else not in her line of sight was a foggy, ethereal figure. Chariselle asked for invitation but body language all but read that she invited herself. [color=#de9b8f]"I'm Chariselle, nice to meet you."[/color] Her eyes quickly scanned his frame, taking it in as if downloading all the things she needed into the motherboard that was her brain. [color=#de9b8f]"So how does one play this? I imagine alcohol will only make this more fun."[/color]

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[color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] Elysium [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] Andy, Sylas, Evenlyn (Kind of)[/color]
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