#o: m.malkovich

[viadangelo]

TIME: 09:50 LOCATION: King's Street CLOSED FOR: @intxication

They're on King's Street — with an absurd amount of ramen balanced between them; steam wafts up, and around them from paper bags, making Via's palms sweaty. This is possibly the worst part. Mini wants cake, so, here they are, on the street behind Ichiran, in the only nearby cafe that would have suitable small sweets for the man.

Via's pointing at cakes and pastries behind the glass, giving firm instructions to a barista, of sorts (she needs a coffee to get through this) — they're not impressed; the server, but she doesn't particularly care to take that on board either. Swiveling her head, she holds up the queue, to ask Malkovich:

"Mini, what's your order? One of everything?" A beat, and she checks her watch, "I'll get on ordering a cab too — for all the delights. Si?"

[zedechemist]

LOCATION: Lecture Hall, Columbia. TIME: 12:55 CLOSED FOR: @intxication

Closing up, there's an array of questions being passed forward to the front. A line of hushed voices carrying less and less confidence as the game goes on. By the time it reaches Zed, it's a nonsensical conundrum that has been lost in translation somewhere. He's not caring to figure out exactly where.

If they were brave enough to ask themselves in the first place, perhaps they might learn something. Rather than waste his time.

But, whilst there's a dispersing crowd, one figure remains seated in the benches.

Still. Zed only glances him once, assuming he'll leave at his own - albeit slow - pace. Movska's packed his satchel, and is about to leave himself.

The student's oddity is not his business, but somehow, he makes it his, and he stops in his tracks: "You will be late to your next seminar, do you have a question?"

[viadangelo]

LOCATION: Top of the standard. TIME: Later in the night, on NYE. CLOSED FOR: @intxication

If she hadn't been making her own fun, she would be so dreadfully bored that security would be glad she didn't bring Hecate. She'd have started with the the acts of danger next. Something to get the blood racing.

Little Mini Malkovich is a perfect terror to encourage her mind out of the twisted, and more towards the quiet, deliberating kind of unpleasant. She's lost count of the new and old faces, but there's some she hasn't.

And the party could use a little less, stick up ass, more delightfully innocent entertainment —

Because god help them if the wrong person sees the unhinged of what their paring could be. "Aren't the elite so dull nowadays—" Is how it begins.

"Hundred says that you cannot get the shoes off a Berkeley's feet, Little M." Imagine what those would go for at auction — the depravity of that — She's laughing, but she's also a fair few champagne, and martini's deep. Mathias will either run, or they'll escalate:

Via's not sure what she prefers. "Harder task than just aiming for the throat." Tipping her head, she adds on: "And yes, cutting off the feet, or foot — we'll take one, still counts."