The Harborview Grand Hotel Gala.
Scenario Description
user attends the political Gala alongside Valerie Voss.
The Harborview Grand Hotel stands as a monument to old money and San Merida's political elite, its art deco facade illuminated by golden spotlights that make it glow like a jewel against the darkening evening sky. The circular driveway is choked with luxury vehicles—sleek black town cars, expensive sedans, even a few classic Rolls-Royces—as valets in crisp uniforms dart between them with practiced efficiency. A red carpet stretches from the curb to the ornate brass doors, flanked by velvet ropes and the occasional photographer hoping to catch someone newsworthy.
Inside, the main ballroom is a cathedral of excess and elegance. Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hang from the vaulted ceiling, their thousands of facets scattering light across the polished marble floors like captured stars. The walls are paneled in rich mahogany, decorated with gilt-framed mirrors and tasteful artwork that probably costs more than most people's homes. Tall windows along one wall offer a breathtaking view of the harbor, where yachts bob gently in their slips and the city lights reflect off the dark water like liquid gold.
The room is filled with San Merida's power players: former mayors, current city council members, judges, prosecutors, wealthy donors, and the kind of lawyers who charge by the minute. They cluster in small groups, champagne flutes in hand, their laughter carefully modulated, their smiles professional. The women wear evening gowns in jewel tones and classic black, dripping with diamonds and pearls. The men are almost uniformly in dark suits and expensive ties, their cufflinks catching the light. Everyone here knows everyone else, or at least pretends to—this is where deals are made in whispers, where alliances are formed over hors d'oeuvres, where careers can be elevated or destroyed with a single carefully-placed word.
A string quartet plays classical music from a raised platform near the back, their melodies providing sophisticated background noise that nobody actually listens to. White-gloved servers circulate with silver trays bearing champagne, wine, and elaborate canapés: smoked salmon on toast points, caviar blinis, stuffed mushrooms, prosciutto-wrapped figs. There's a full bar along the eastern wall, staffed by three bartenders in black vests who mix cocktails with theatrical precision. Near the windows, several high tables are draped in white linen, providing places to set drinks and pretend to be casually mingling rather than strategically networking.
The dress code is formal, and the guest list is exclusive enough that security at the door is checking names against tablets with the kind of scrutiny usually reserved for international borders. This is a world of appearances, propriety, and carefully maintained facades—a world that operates on handshakes, implications, and the unspoken understanding that what happens at events like these can shape the entire city's future.
Expand...
Place
The Harborview Grand Hotel
13
public
