Sierra Madre: New Beginnings Part I (The Gala Event) : Fallout Series Discussion

» Sun Nov 03, 2013 12:36 pm

Sierra Madre: New Beginnings Part I (The Gala Event)

OOC: If your characters are Sierra Madre staff, they’ll already been in the resort. Otherwise if you are a guest, you can either have them arrive the day of the Gala Event (now) or they could have already been staying in the Sierra Madre for a week or so beforehand.

Morning of the Gala Event: 8:03am – 16 Hours Remain

“Do you like it my dear?” The gentle voice of Fredrick Sinclair said as he placed a beautiful sapphire necklace with on Vera Keyes, snapping the ends together as she held her hair up.

“Oh Fredrick its lovely,” Vera replied as she turned around to give Sinclair a kiss. Unbeknownst to her, Sinclair grimaced slightly before continuing to put on a loving face. He had to keep up this fa?ade, no matter how much it pained him.

“I’d hope you might wear it to the Gala Event tonight….” He said, “You’ll look absolutely ravishing with it on Vera.”

“I will! I definitely will,” Vera stood up from her seat and twirled happily around for a few moments before she fell back into Sinclair’s arms, “Oh I can’t wait for tonight….its going to be so much fun. The Sierra Madre is finally opening!”

“Nor can I,” Sinclair continued, taking Vera by the arm and escorting her out towards the balcony of the Suite. The glass doors had been opened and the curtains pulled back to reveal a lovely morning sky and a bright sun. The Sierra Madre and the Villa below seemed to shine brightly as the sun bounced off the walls and roofs of the buildings. Beyond them, a wide expanse of desert with nothing but the occasional desert hill and crevice made it seem like the Sierra Madre was an oasis of paradise.

“It’ll be a night to remember I can assure you. Everything I’ve worked for….everything I’ve lost and regained….it’ll be realized tonight.”

“A new beginning,” Vera said, resting her head on Sinclair’s shoulder.

“Yes….a new beginning for us all.”

» Sun Nov 03, 2013 2:14 pm

Aliander Weiss
The Tampico Theater
6:00 AM; October 23rd, 2077

"Alright everyone, let's take another run-through." Aliander says to a group of finely dressed men and women standing upright on the Tampico's stage, underneath the beaming lights of the Sierra Madre. He looks up at them, watching as they file backstage for yet another practice run of the day's big show.

From the fine art deco tables, he leans back in his seat, with a hand in the air. "And, lights!" he announces, with a flick of the wrist, motioning for his crew to begin.

The tiny bulbs at the ceiling of the Tampico dim into twinkling stars, and the limelights aim toward center stage. Fast paced music then drones in the speakers of the theater, making for a classic high-fashion scene, which reminded him so much of his time in Milan. The velvet walls of the Tampico alternate in varying shades of pale blue, and the first round of models stride past the stage curtain, with their shadows growing huge behind them as they approached the end of the catwalk.

"Ah, lovely." Aliander says to himself, feeling ecstatic that today was the big day. He had spent about three weeks at the Sierra Madre already, though not indulging much in the resort's leisurely attractions. Instead he had spent his time organizing and reorganizing his show, making sure it was absolutely perfect.

A few minutes into the show, with only him in the crowd, Aliander's focus is broken by his approaching assistant. She was dressed in the Weiss brand, wearing only the finest of his lines. Her heels clacked confidently against the tile of the theater lobby, and dulled as she stepped onto the dark carpet of the theater itself. "Mr. Weiss." She begins, with a whisper in the relative silence of the theater, despite the ongoing show. "I regret to inform you that mister Dean Domino is nowhere to be found."

"What!?" Weiss hisses. "What do you mean he is nowhere to be found? The Villa is only so big. Find him! He is our opening act, how can he have just vanished?"

"Apparently, Domino and Sinclair have been having quite a few problems as of late... Shall I schedule Ms. Lee in his place? Perhaps Mr. Sinatra?"

"No, they will never do. They're all washed up -- Domino is the big deal, it's been all over the papers already! We can't just replace him, the show is tonight!"

His assistant nearly cuts him off in offering a solution. She had recalled a very particular detail of the Sierra Madre, and decided to make mention. "Well, Mr. Weiss, there is another option. As you already know, the Sierra Madre's holograms also serve as means of entertainment. And, if I recall correctly, Mr. Domino had one made out for him just before he went MIA. Maybe we could use that. I mean, it is definitely something our audience will not have seen -- we may even make history."

When she said that, Aliander's eyes lit up with content. "Yes! Perfect! We will treat the world to a show in lights! Lovely. This will take a bit of reorganizing, but I think it can manage. Call up Sinclair, make sure he knows we'll need those hologram holotapes."

» Sun Nov 03, 2013 4:29 am

John Warshington, 0800

The alarm rang, waking John up. Goddamnit. He had forgotten to set it for a later time. He sat up on the side of his bed, looking at his room door for hd not look in the mirror at this hour in the day. It was a good night's sleep, although he went to bed later then he had hoped. He stood up and walked to the bathroom, feeling the shaggy carpet between his toes. I need to get this in my personal plane. He splashed water on his face, then flattened his hair down with his hand. Now I can look in the mirror. Still feeling a little repulsive, he got in the shower.

It was 0815 when he got dressed for the morning to come; he opted to wear something more causal for the pre-Gala: tan trousers, white polo shirt, a black jacket and his signature aviators. He laid his suit that he was planning to wear for the Gala on his spare king-size bed. All of his clothes was from the illustrious company, Weiss Form. They are the finest, or so he was told. "Some notable people such as Aliander Weiss, Stuart Worthington, and recently acclaimed writer Michael Marston are some of the few notables who are to attend." He remembered his assistant saying on the way there.

John checked his pockets for his cigars, money, and his special lighter. He held his lighter in the palm of his hand, it wasn't too heavy. The number 13 reminded him of his time Canada, the gold for his luck, and the silver for luck. He put it back into his inside pocket of his jacket as he headed to the door. His room was 803. Damn Sinclair for not giving me the best he has. I put in a good amount of money. He was angry that his room wasn't on the next floor.

After a brief elevator ride down to the lobby with a rather strange looking man, he entered walked to the bar area. Nobody else was yet in the bar other then the staff, it was far to early. Not early enough for me. He walked up to the counter and too a seat on the stool. He took the glasses off and put them on the collar of his shirt. "What is the most expensive liquor you got?" He asked the bartender.

OOC: I assumed there are 10 floors above ground. One and two being the lobby/casino/Tampico/restaurant. Three - eight are just average rooms, and nine and ten being the Executive Suites.