[YLIP] viva la romance! :: limo entrances

[lance]

♡  ACHILLES .

It's a hell of a thing, being pulled out of virtual obscurity back home in Eight and brought to the Capitol of all places to supposedly get a big break. But Achilles has seen weirder. Experienced weirder. Hell, he's probably in the minority in that this is not the first time he's ever left his home - just one extra tag on the debt he owes Lore that he'd never be able to pay back.

It was ironic, really, to the point of even being called karma. Lore had sent him to Six to meet a girl just like her (and just like him) to help mold Achilles into the boy he'd always wanted to be since he'd first had an understanding that the world was a hell of a lot more fluid than one could imagine. And then no sooner had he come back that summer a new man than had Lore practically yeeted herself into the Games in order to pay off some longstanding debt or something like that. Achilles had never bothered nosing around in her business - some things were just meant to occur on their own, and who was he to interfere?

If it was karma that it was the eventual victor from Six that took her out, well, Achilles preferred not to dwell on it.

But he knows that this would have been far more her style than his, that even though he had applied for this (it got lonely back in Eight sometimes, okay?) there was a not insignificant chance that it'd been his relation to Lore herself that had gotten him here as much as his own merits.

Ah well. You win some, you lose some, and if one of the wins comes because he'd pulled every page out of the Dummy's Guide to Nepotism 101, then so be it. Fact of the matter is; he's here, he's queer, and he's mothafuckin' ready to have someone pound his-

Oh, who is he kidding. He'd already said that this was more of Lore's scene than his, right? Yeah, well, he's scared shitless out of his mind because what the fuck had he been thinking this entire damn time?

But, too late to back out now. He adjusts the collar of his suit (and thank god they hadn't looked twice when he'd sent in his application and had let him wear a suit without fuss, because he's still not one hundred percent sure that the paperwork that Lore was supposed to send it dictating that he was a boy in all but the legal system ever got sent in before her death) takes a deep breath, and then, well, it's showtime.

"Thanks, mate," he mumbles to the driver before stepping out into the next several weeks of his life. But for all his reservations, Achilles was a fully fledged member of the Haus of Gaultier, and by the time the cameras have hit him he may as well have been preparing for this moment for his entire life.

It's not hard to find the hostess - even if he didn't have somewhat of an idea of who Petalia Quartz was, the woman's aura was unmistakable - and he plasters on his biggest grin as he goes in for a big, firm hug. "Miss Quartz!" he exclaims after the embrace. "Achilles Zhao. It's an honor to be here, truly."

And with that, let the motherfuckin' Games begin.

[ 💌 ]

[napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

♡  BENITO .

Again: he is the wrong sibling for this.

It should have been Donata. Everyone knows she, the dazzling pearl of the family, has been waiting for a chance like this: a fairytale romance, opulence, and grand gestures.

But mother says she isn't ready and so here Benito is in her stead, cladded in a suit far too taut for his own good as the limo glides across the concrete, trying his best to not sweat through the silks. It costs more than a year of your allowance, he warns himself. He tries not to linger too much on the fact that it most probably costs more than a lifetime of labor for some.

Let’s rewind the footage, find out why he’s really here: spite. It has always been Benito’s biggest strength and deadliest flaw. If someone told him that he couldn’t do something, he would take pain to master it, become perfect at, simply in spite of their comment. And someone did tell him that he wouldn’t be good at these sorts of competitions.

Well, Trylle Fray hadn’t told him told him but … the insinuations were there.

So it was a surprise to his mother when he volunteered.

“Sigurado ka ba?” she asked with a smile she couldn’t contain.

“Yes, mama.”

Benito knows it made her happy to see him put himself out there. To see him work towards what all Bridgertons are destined for: utter adoration. Because despite them being careers, they are not meant for bloodshed or glory found in the games, but for the love and the worship they seem to garner from others. Benito has seen this quality, this so-called dazzling magic, in his mother and Donata, in Cedric, and hell, even in Adrian, but he has never quite felt it himself.

He has always been self-doubting, and this is the last chance he has to prove himself wrong. All the times his film screenings had three to zero people don’t matter right now: if Benito can win this game, then he has what it takes to be a pearl, a star, a Bridgerton.

And maybe a part of him is also wondering if that’s what he truly desires, but the limo crawls to a stop and the cameras are already click-click-clicking.

He draws a fortifying breath and knows:

His debutante ball is about to begin.

[ 💌 ]

[Python]

♡  AJAX .

This is the story of how daddy's disappointment reached new limits. Mr. Coldwell certainly imagined his prized son in a limousine in the Capitol, but for a different reason. And that was the game; do the opposite of what his father wanted. Oh, to see his expression! His betrothed son riding in luxury not for glory, not for wealth, but to hook up with men.

He was going to suffer a severe lecture when he returned.

In the meantime, Ajax was ready to thrust himself into the romantic spotlight. There would be cameras, drama, and a grand prize. He didn't need more money, and he didn't care about fame. Love was a rather strong word, he wasn't quite sure about that one, but he did enjoy a challenge. And he enjoyed men. It was the opportunity of a lifetime!

Plus, someone simply must teach these fools how to dress. The Captiol was known for its bright colors and starstruck fashion, but throwing rainbow colors onto a scarf doesn't make it beautiful. Ajax found them to be rather...tacky, at times. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

"You're quiet, good sir. Are you still upset about our game?" He questioned the driver when he already knew the answer. They had played an idle game of chess before takeoff, ending in an easy victory for Ajax. Biggest turnoff: a sore loser.

The driver's silence was long forgotten when they pulled up to the house.

"So, this is where the adventure begins?"

[ 💌 ]

[Tom]

♡  PSYCHE .

Leaving the island is a big deal.

A family gathering of all the sisters and mothers and daughters had occurred where tales of the lands far beyond their island were told. Psyche hadn't understood why she'd been pulled for this out of all the applications. A full on joke of an application which her sister, Nyra had pushed her to fill out in a stare that broke down the walls she's built up herself. A sigh from her own lips as she stares at her vibrant hands, soaked in rose water and attached with rings that drip with fabrics and jewels as if the ocean itself had created her. May the gods protect her is what she had been told on that boat with their grandmother who'd stared with heavy cold eyes at her.

Eventually, the main land had taken her away. Too many people moving around her as the capitol closed in. Women having talked to her on the way, telling her of the beauty. The brightness of the capitol had only been awe inducing after the architecture had filled her vision. A smile on her lips as the view comes and goes like the setting sun on the waves of the sea. seafoam bubbling along the coast like the producers and workers of Your Love in Panem. Women taking her from the stop and immediately sending her to a place so solemnly alone; her heart in her ears. Fingers itching to build and break, build and break, and build and break. Alone, she waits for them to give her to go ahead. Caring for her, but in the way that the capitol views them as objects. No guidance or tough iron walls to bleed onto. Her voice feels quiet for those two weeks; women checking in on her over time until finally she gets pulled away.

Alone in the limo, she's been prepared with the capitol's picture of their home. Areto was the only vision they've seen of the island. Areto, a sister lost to the bloody ocean of the capitol's games. A sorrow-filled mourning deep in her veins knowing that the sea churns still for her. Deep ocean water, whispering to the sisters of the island, setting rain across their skies for days and days. A heavy remembrance until time heals those wounds. Nyra's plan was to get Psyche a lover after all of these years. Despite the good intentions, she's trapped in an ocean of mystery with no net to feed herself. No fish as far as the eye can see.

The beautiful gown they've put her in is covered in blues and greens; fabrics attached to rings hanging off of her as if she were the ocean's goddess herself. The hair she's so used to having tied up and out of the way, hanging to the middle of her back; looking as if the ocean itself has given her life. A breath of the beauty where the sea meets land; almost as if the island's myths were meant to come alive in her form, but Psyche didn't see the same image that the stylists had told her. Instead, she felt overdressed; stuck in a place where they dazzle up people and sell an image of their past to the world.

The light flowing fabric blows as if the sea winds themselves could reach the urban mess of a place that is the Capitol. Her steps are slow, filled with the anticipation before the waves crash against rock. The mourning cry of two lovers who never can meet once more. A nervous smile pulling along the edges of her cherry lips; the ocean's deep still in her head before she stands before the resort. A spotlight set on her. The rising sunrise of an ocean glittering around her as the ocean blues and greens glitter in the light just barely; her own words slipping out; smooth and quiet like a calm ocean before the tide pulls in.

"Hi, Miss Quartz! What a pleasure it is to meet you!"

The producers had told her to lay it on thick; play up to the cameras like the ocean's tide.

"I'm Psyche of the Amazons! You're almost as pretty as the goddesses of the island!"

Everything tastes of sea salt fakeness.

At least, the architecture was phenomenal. She couldn't wait to get her hands on the blueprints to the resort.

[ 💌 ]