What's this? Accompanied by two Alolan Meowth, a beautiful woman with neck-length, sky blue hair confidently struts up to the casino's entrance, her stiletto heels clicking against the whitestone archway. She is clad in a stunning, black dress, a white feather boa elegantly draped around her bare shoulders.

Little did all those people gawking at her know he was actually Rico in drag. No, he wasn't planning to transition. He just liked getting in touch with his feminine side every now and then, so tonight he would be 'Rika', the mysterious socialite from a faraway region.

//outfit

☉

Barnaby was running a little behind. He'd been caught by some acquaintances and dragged into a conversation about the Grand Opening. Nothing unusual there, but it had derailed him from meeting up with a certain POG Bank CEO. Hurrying, Barnaby's checkered coat and the decorative scarves tied to his waist billowed behind him. Bellona, his beautiful birthday gift, followed diligently at a heel by his side.

Cobalt eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, looking for one in particular until... there.

From this vantage point Barnaby could see Mars in his gorgeous white tuxedo standing beside the main fountain, but only the back of the woman he was talking to. As the journalist approached he heard the tail-end of their introductions. At an opportune lull he'd make his entrance.

"Excuse my intrusion— oh! Ms. Fiorelli!" Having moved beside Mars and now in full view of the woman across from him, Barnaby practically beamed down at Elisabeth Fiorelli. This would be entertaining. "What a splendid surprise seeing you here."

Leaning slightly toward Mars in a companionable and friendly manner, Barnaby added, "Sorry I'm a little late. I hope you weren't waiting long." This came out only slightly apologetic, as it was hard to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Even so, you were in admirable company. Kalosian royalty, if you can believe it." Barnaby's wide smile settled into a pleasant smirk.

"So how do you know Martín?" A question asked in a light, conversational tone.

Barnaby was already aware of how she knew Martín del Mar , of course. But he was curious of her answer nonetheless.

Martín del Mar & Elisabeth Fiorelli
outfit check

☉

Rika's emerald eyes were drawn to the little people fountain that had formed around the literal fountain. So many important and influential people! It really went to show how far Team Rocket's reach could stretch. Ravishing as he was in his black dress, he couldn't hope to hold a candle to Elisabeth Fiorelli's beauty. And BARNABY FINCH looked like an exotic prince in his flamboyant attire.

"My, my, what pristine company we have here!" The cross-dressing grunt approached the trio, making no attempt to alter his voice. His high-pitched shrill wasn't the pinnacle of masculinity anyway. Naturally, his boss Martín del Mar should have no trouble recognizing him, but there was nothing wrong with doing a little bit of role playing. "Oh, I should introduced myself. I'm Rika, and these adorable babies are Czar and Duchess." He gestured at the two Alolan Meowth.

Rika leaned in front of Martín's shiny Kantonian Meowth, lowering his gloved hand in order to pet its head. "Mmm, how lovely... The face of POG Bank is looking radiant as always." He remarked, his hand moving down and gently scratching the underside of the Meowth's chin, which he knew was their favorite spot.

//outfit

☉

"Told you it was a bad ide- fuck." A frustrated snarl cut through the night as she stumbled on polished cobblestone. Her fingers sunk into the fabric of Angelo's suit, holding on for dear life while the crease between her eyebrows betrayed an increasingly mercurial temperament. "Next time you're the one wearing them."

Them meaning, of course, the death traps she'd put on her feet and which added at least 4 inches to her height. Unfortunately, it also meant that walking had become a hazardous enterprise at best for the good ol' captain, constantly teetering on the edge of falling on her ass.

And wouldn't that be a sight.

While gambling was more her husband's thing, Skyler was no stranger to the rush of adrenaline-fueled competition. She simply sought hers elsewhere, as evidenced by the web of scars over sun-kissed skin.

Tonight, however, she stood in the casino's wide courtyard with the ocean breeze shivering up the curve of her exposed back. Her dress slid down her body like liquid mercury. A slit on the side split the fabric, allowing a full range of movement - shoes aside.

"Look there, Angel." Teeth flashed sharply as she motioned to Martín del Mar , who was currently engaged in conversation with a group of people. "Isn't that your friend?"

Or, as we know him best, Side Hustle#2. 

angelo vestri | OUTFIT

open to interactions!

☉

Beholden of an addictive personality and an unquenchable thirst for the ambrosia of random chance, gambling had been staunchly avoided in Cyg’s life. More than once she’d watched her father trade his final dimes for the dust of a scratch ticket-- she can picture them slipping from behind the sun visor in his car like clipped obituaries or paper snow-- and never had she ever had the desire for just one more thing to sink her hard-earned money into, suspect taxation charity be damned.

So originally the casino held little interest for her and she’d more than intended to ignore it completely until it was revealed that at least a portion of their sinful spending was going to be free. Having come into some money of her own with working at Elisabeth Fiorelli ’s flower shop (where most of the revenue was made from peddling and delivering poisons), Cyg decided that she could splurge, if just a little bit, on a nice night out, for her own sake.

But she wouldn’t gamble.

After a brief pre-game of pulls of cheap vodka straight, she climbed into the backseat of a hired vehicle-- something black and shiny, like the shell of a beetle. She slipped from the patent leather interior of the SUV and straightened her bowtie, smoothing the tiny black buttons down the front of her shirt as a second attendant brought the item she was most excited about for the evening-- her cane. A walking stick fashioned out of black wood and a golden handle in the shape of a Swanna, it had been an ironic present to herself at 4:00 AM after a few too many beers and had showed up at her flat a few days later along with a sampling of hot pepper seeds and a toilet paper holder she had also forgotten about.

She gave her chauffeur and his assistant each a $20 and slipped her hand into her pants pocket, boots thunking heavily up the cement walkway as she parted the crowd of onlookers. The flashing of cameras lit up her peripherals, here to celebrate the casino opening and the actual celebrities that would be in attendance, but it was nice to pretend, every once in a while, that she was important in the world.

After grabbing her free gifts at the entry she made a brief pitstop at the bar where she snagged a whisky sour before launching herself into the crowd. Buoyed by alcohol and the cloth armor and just how confident she felt she almost didn’t feel the need to look for familiar faces-- but the one she saw made her grin flash like the sun.

“I figured you’d be here,” Cyg cheered her boss, tipping the snifter towards Elizabeth in her glorious, gold-embellished gown. “Looking fabulous, as always. Hi, Mars. Hi, cats.” She grinned at Martín del Mar , too, finding it amazing that she had come to an event such as this and not only knew people, but felt like she belonged.

What a world they lived in.

She knew BARNABY FINCH , of course, through Elisa’s staunch opinions of the man, and flattering ones they were not.

(Also, they’d met that one time at the SPECTRA event. But there were weird hidden identity factors at play here. It all got very confusing sometimes and so this meeting was rather one of inconsequence, and not entirely one she'd be aware of).

Speaking of people who didn’t remember her…

…she flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her flannel-clad shoulder, using the brief reprieve in eye contact to search the crowd for a familiar, dark-haired face; not that this seemed like the type of event Felix Gallagher would roll up to, honestly.

He was just on her mind a lot, was all.

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WEARING | HAIR | MAKEUP
Elisabeth Fiorelli Martín del Mar BARNABY FINCH