---

A four note tune chimed through out every hallway through the Begich towers signaling the start of an announcement.

Margorie Bouvier's petite and faint giggle came over the speakers. She had been sitting on the lap of the mayor after a few drinks and was trying hard to keep her composure. "Oh stop.." she insisted, pushing his hands off her and she cleared her throat. "Good evening residents!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking at the end, with the familiar chuckle of the mayor heard in the background.

Margorie continued, "As you all may know, tonight is the last day of the month. Tomorrow marks the start of the annual month of no sunlight that we have all encountered while living her in Whittier." she continued, "We'd like to invite every one up to the 14th floor into the meeting room where we have set up a little banquet of sorts for us to enjoy the company of one another before the hard, cold month ahead. There will be food and drink provided.." her voice traveled off as she thought of anything else to add. "See you soon!"

Slowly but surely the residents of the tower made their way up the stair case or elevator up to the 14th floor.

---

A month of darkness.

Jasmine had been seated on her wool-draped couch, tilting her head up as the announcement sounded throughout the building. She'd been told about it beforehand and, honestly, she was looking forward to it. Perfect excuse to just sit around and not do a damn thing.

She had her TV remote in one hand and a can of Sprite in the other. When the announcement made out the word of a banquet, her brain immediately boiled it down into several other words. Free, food, and bloodsports.

God she loved the idea of bloodsports. Wished they were still around.

"Feast." She whispered to herself.

She shut her TV off without checking whatever channel she'd mindlessly flipped to. The standard cable selection here never struck her fancy with any programs. She downed the last of the Sprite and tossed the can into her little kitchen's garbage bin. She contemplated washing her hair or putting deodorant on for about two seconds before remembering who she was as a person. Armed in some baggy jeans and a few layers of shirts, she made her way out her apartment door to begin her long and arduous journey up to floor fourteen.

And while completely unnecessary, she mentally prepared herself to die historic on the Fury Road.

Click.
Click.
Click.
Flash!

Lola Earnest sat comfortably on her bed, though it may not look like it. She had a sultry smile on her painted red lips, her long legs were stretched out infront of her, her toes kept in a point, her back arched. All these poses were natural to her, even better, she was making a lot of money off this special talent of hers.

The day, before a gentlemen had taken an interest in Lola's 'modelling' website, paying her a few thousand in advance for a set of special pictures for his private collection only. There was a promise of another few thousand when he received said pictures.

Lola sighed contently, more than satisfied with the money she was making.
"It's so easy being this pretty." Her voice was low and raspy, imitating Marilyn Monroe. She jutted out her hip, leaning against her pillows to show off more of her voluptuous figure which was clothed by lacy lingerie; Lola was a regular pin-up girl.

Flash!

Later into the evening, Lola's attire changed into a small, pink housecoat with curlers in her lovely blonde hair. Lola sat at her computer, uploading all her pictures to her new favourite client's email, sending it with a smug look on her face. "I'm rich, bitch." She enthused, breaking into excited giggles. She leaned over to the armoire that stood side by side to her computer, contemplating if she should put on her sparkling silver eye shadow.
The announcement over the intercom confirmed the answer to her own question.

"...We'd like to invite every one up to the 14th floor into the meeting room-"
"Yes!"
Before Lola listened to the rest of the announcement, she was up, removing the curlers, putting on her face, and pulling a wine red dress out of it's plastic cover. The smirk on her face couldn't stretch any farther.
Soon after finishing off her outfit with black stilettos, Lola was off on her way to the meeting room on the 14th floor.

Aaron sat at the desk, staring blankly out the window. It was almost dark. And it was going to stay that way for a whole month. He didn't mind the dark since he rarely got to go outside anyway. The only thing he detested about it was the extra shifts. Certain residents in the building liked to venture out, and it was Aaron's job to stop that.

Almost nodding off, the announcement, played through the speaker that was fixed to the wall in the corner of his room, brought him back to reality. Informing him of the banquet that was to be held on the fourteenth floor, Aaron contemplated whether or not he should attend. Realising he was one of the few police officers in the building, he decided his attendance was pretty much mandatory.

Already dressed in his uniform, Aaron retrieved his service pistol from the drawer in his desk and ensured it had a full clip of ammunition and a round already loaded in the chamber. He slid an extra magazine into his duty belt, just to be safe. Some residents were likely to get more drunk than others, and Aaron enjoyed acting the higher power in those situations.

Assuming he would need to be briefed on the evening's events upon arrival, Aaron sauntered up the stair case, alone. He wasn't fond of crowds, and hung back to let the initial rush of people go by. He was fairly relaxed tonight. Nothing really went wrong in the building, aside from the occasional drunk, which he would probably have to deal with as he arrived at the fourteenth floor meeting room.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Samuel Everglade's study was silent, but for the tapping of a pencil and quiet breathing. Staring at the copious amount of papers in front of him, Sam found his eyes listing lazily to his decanter. For such a small community, the amount of homework and assignments Samuel received in a week was ridiculous - and that didn't even include the extra credit stuff that the more troubled students were doing.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

"God above, is this tedious." He thought to himself, still tapping his pencil on a particularly dull essay from one of his students. He could always leave it for tonight and go to the bar. With any luck, Aaron would be in there and they could indulge each other's company for a small while. It certainly beat sitting in his apartment with nothing tempting him but alcohol. He needed to conserve his personal stash, after all - they didn't get any deliveries during the 30 days of night. For some reason, the truckers found the night-time too scary.

Glancing up as the familiar voice of the Mayor's assistant came through the intercom, Sam rolled his eyes upon hearing the giggles. Honestly. The girl was an airhead, and the mayor was a bastard for exploiting that. And now they were inviting everyone was tea. Wonderful.

"Oh... bollocks it. At least I can drink some of that expensive whiskey he has." Samuel muttered to himself with a wry smile, stretching and running a hand through his blond hair before standing up.

---

After having a quick shower, change, (and a short), Samuel was making his way to the elevator. He hadn't put much effort in - the Mayor wasn't worth it. Either way, with simple dark jeans, a grey t-shirt, and black jacket, he'd be looking good.

Well... better than Goodge anyway.

---

Fourteenth floor, elevator opens. Rasta-woman exits and nearly collides with famished patrons making their way towards the layer of the feast. She allows the ravenous mongrels to pass by her before carrying on with her journey, for she too hungers.

She follows the pack of ingrates to the meeting room, catching every other half of their eyes and losing them just as quick. It's the hat. It's always the friggin' hat. It was probably the only one of its kind in that entire building, but the people of Whittier wouldn't have to worry about seeing Jasmine's ragged crown too often during the long night. Once this preemptive feast was concluded, she would march back to her hovel and hibernate like a bear, waking only to consume food items or play video games out of horrible boredom.

She enters the meeting room. There are people, already feasting, around the chairs and tables lined with glorious hunger-reducers. She weaves past the crowd and makes a bee-line for the buffet line.

God help the soul of anyone who stood in her way, for they would most likely have their shit smacked.

Ichiro had been painting when the intercom sounded, reminding the residents of the banquet. He'd nearly forgotten about the affair and the upcoming thirty days of darkness. He'd been too absorbed in a new series of paintings that had come to him in a dream. They were bloody and demonic scenes, but held a terrible and cruel beauty about them. He gathered his supplies and gently washed his brushes free of ink in his art studio's sink. After putting away the art tools and paints, he took to the walk in shower. He'd forgotten to do so the day before, so intense was his desire to put the images his nightmares had inspired. Even as he had rejoiced in the painting, a sense of foreboding had stolen over the man. The paintings were a bad omen and he hoped his superstitions proved false.

He dressed in a sharp black suit with a charcoal grey shirt and black tie. Before he left his suite, he knelt in front of the Buddha. He lit the three incense he had prepared beforehand at breakfast and began his chants and prayers. Soon, his rituals complete he stood and smoothed out his clothes. For some reason, Ichiro had decided to carry a gun for the first time in many years. A compact hip holster was well-concealed by his suit jacket. Luckily he had already filed and been approved by Aaron, a friendly acquaintance, to carry a concealed sidearm. The license and permit had not come cheap, but Ichiro valued his safety above all else and it was a fool who was not always prepared. He tamed his long black hair, pulling it back into a tight ponytail. Several silver rings adorned his ears and many adorned his hands.

Deciding he wanted the exercise, the well-built Japanese man opted for the stairs. He made his way up the levels quickly, spotting the chief on his way up to the banquet. "Officer McKenna, it's good to see you. How have you been?" He straightened his jacket as he came abreast of the police officer, falling into step. He secured the top button of his suit jacket, not wanting to put the man into unease even though he had gone through all the proper channels. "Looking forward to the banquet? I hear there is an open bar," he said the last with a bit of shared amusement. He himself didn't care for most Western drinks, preferring hot sake.

"How quaint." A sarcastic titter was drawn from Margorie's lips as she watched the trail of people come in for the banquet. "You don't have to be so cruel Margie." the mayor replied with his lips pressed to her ear, trying not to draw attention- but their affair had been not secret. He was old enough to be her father, but that didn't seem to bother them much.

Several round tables we're arranged around the room for people to sit and chat at. The food table was not as magnificent as imagined, containing only servings of herring, asparagus, and mashed potatoes. It wasn't the most generous offer but at least it was free.

Dave and Jenny Warbler had brought their selections of whiskey and vodka from their bar to share, propping it on the table next to the food. It too was lacking much excitement, but again- most things in Whittier were just that:

Lacking in excitement.

As most of the residents arrived, the mayor cleared his throat at the front of the room to begin his welcoming speech. "Good evening my neighbors and my friends." a wicked smile drawn across his face, "I'm so thankful you all have made it and we are blessed and delighted for such.." he paused looking at the sparse table, "fantastic food, and even better company." he looked towards every one to see their reactions before continuing. "I don't tend to keep you much longer now, but some of our leaders have some announcements to make...so don't go anywhere!" he exclaimed, trying to be humorous. Margorie laughed alone, as the mayor and her quickly scattered to a seat.

Derek Yates and Daryl Davis both nodded at one another as they stood up and approached the front of the room together. They we're the head of the police department and fire station within the towers and fairly respected members of the community. Derek took lead in the announcement as he spoke with a slight commanding tone as he would to his officers, "As we all know, tomorrow is the start of our annual month of darkness. These are hard times for us all. Please be aware of any suspicious activity in our premises and report them immediately. Thank you." he nodded and stepped away leaving Daryl on the floor.

A warm smile swept along his face before speaking, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I won't keep you long from one another, but I just wanted to give you a friendly reminder that because of the increase of fireplace usage in the building during this next month to be extra cautious of your surroundings. We don't want another incident of last year do we Hubert?!" the man chuckled and a few of the residents laughed at the old man's expense as well. Even Hubert gave a faint smile as he remembered setting his apartment a blaze when he had left his fur coat too close to the flame and fell asleep. "Anyway." Daryl continued as the crowd settled back down, "Let's have a nice night, and a good, safe, and easy month here..Cheers!" he too then scurried away.

Rosemary Adams, the pastors wife and one of the two teachers in the towers piped up cheerfully, "I also made my famous apple crumble cake for everyone to eat for dessert!" setting the pan down next to the food.

Residents began helping themselves to the food and drink that had been provided.

---

Mashed potatoes. Simple foodstuff, glory of casual gods, served well with anything, let's go bitch.

Jasmine had reached the table after conquering the queue of patrons, grabbing nothing but a bowl and a spoon and scooping her bounty into the bowl. She earned the distasteful glares of folks who were looking to get their share, to which she retaliated with her own gaze that could make an alpha wolf shit itself.

Once she was satisfied with the amount of sustenance she pilfered, she turned and raced towards the first empty table she could find, narrowly beating a couple of teenagers to it.

"Taken." Jasmine said, staring down the group. Wild eyes and some teeth grinding convinced them to continue their search for seating elsewhere.

Jasmine commenced the devouring of the mashed potatoes, darting her eyes for a moment in case anyone were coming to take her holy land from her.

Then it'd be dinner with some entertainment.

The click of Lola's high heels, echoed through the halls as she swayed her hips seductivly; The way about her appearance and the way she moved usually had people drooling over her, and she knew it well. It didn't help that she was wearing a rather revealing dress that hugged her form tightly either.
She had entered the meeting room, fluttering her fingers at Margorie, giving a wink shortly thereafter. She hadn't talk much with Margorie, but she respected the girl for going after the Mayor, as it was quite obvious that she had a thing for that old man. Lola still couldn't help but wonder if she was in it for money or if she actually had a fetish for senile men who wheezed through their noses.
"Disgusting."
Lola said under her breath, though she wasn't any better than the Mayor's assistant.

Scanning the room, Lola made mental notes on who she'd be interested in tonight, or even for the entire month if she was willing to put in the effort, though not everyone was in her view. Sneaking over to a far wall, she put her hands on her hips to survey for someone who looked like a good time, though the girl with baggy clothes caught her attention. Looking over at Jasime, Lola sneered, wondering if she should offer a makeover or a shower. She decided not the involve herself with someone who would probably just kill her mood. All that was expected to happen tonight was get a drink and get a man or woman to spice up the night.

Aaron eventually made it to his destined floor. The grey walls and staircase were mind-numbingly boring, and he was half tempted to let the hippy girl tag the place just to liven it up a bit. Before he was able to head into the meeting room, he was stopped by one of the tower's residents. A Japanese man who's name, if Aaron remembered correctly, was Ichiro Takenaka.

"I've been fine, Ichiro," answered Aaron. "Just biding my time until the endless nights. Gotta get everything ready, y'know?"

He smiled as he finished his sentence, and patted Ichiro's shoulder in the most friendly manner he could muster. Aaron wasn't an intimidating type, he just didn't go out of his way to find friends. But, like with every other person, he chose to remain polite. The last thing he needed was a bunch of pissed off people committing crimes for the next thirty days.

The crime levels were relatively low during the other seasons. They ranged from petty theft of miscellaneous to random vandalism. He normally suspected the younger residents, but never pursued his suspicious. He preferred to stay on the good side of those in the tower, since living together in close quarters could turn some insane.

Eventually, he reached the meeting room, with Ichiro beside him. Aaron opened the door for the Japanese male, and waited for him to enter. As he did so, Aaron peered inside and spotted Samuel. He grinned slightly, since Samuel was the only one he could actually vent to without the worry of others finding out and causing annoying consequences.

Ichiro smiled knowingly, the officers had actual work cut out for them every year of the dark month. Something about it made the residents impulsive and much more of a threat than any other time of the year. Which is the reason Ichiro was so well armed, several other firearms safely locked away in his suite. "Of course, I wish you luck with the coming month. It's always so.. turbulent," Ichiro agreed in an accented voice.

Ichiro knew Aaron meant well when he patted his shoulder, but the officer's natural demeanor was never what one could call warm. Nevertheless, he didn't flinch like softer residents of Whittier might. Instead he huckled as he stepped through the doorway, turning to Aaron. "Thank you, I hope you have a good time tonight. I think you'll need it." Bowing slightly to show his respect, he crossed the floor and made his way directly to the bar, where he was poured a small cup of sake. A beige bottle, warm to the touch, was set beside the cup. The bartender was aware of Ichiro's particular tastes and accommodated the Japanese man to best of his abilities.

Sipping his drink, Ichiro took a perfunctory scan of the room, his eyes alighting on a few of the more interesting residents, as well as the Mayor and his new fling. The older man always amused Ichiro, the man's vigor never really flagging with the years. He made sure to remind himself to stop at the table and pay his respects to his friend. Yet, Ichiro's real interest fell to Lola, who'd recently entered the room. She was a sight and would intimidate a lesser man. He met her eye and raised his cup slightly in recognition and welcome, before tossing back the alcohol. Turning back to the bar, he refilled his cup and began the ritual anew.

Samuel couldn't have been happier to see Aaron. Although now somewhat more at home with a glass of whiskey in his hand, it was obvious tehre was some tension between himself and the Mayor. Naturally, Samuel had said hello, as is typical of your classy English gentleman - and also because his politeness to Goodge simply ran him up the wrong, because no matter how much fake sincerity Samuel poured into it, the Mayor knew it was fake.
And, oh, was it fun to see him squirm.
However, what with the dull atmosphere of the ''party'', and the substandard food, it had grown tiring immensely quickly. Seeing Aaron walk in just after their only asian neighbour gave him a slight glimmer of hope - perhaps this night wouldn't be all too bad. They could bitch to one another like they would at the bar.

"Aaron. About damn time - I ready to go and throw myself from the bloody window." Samuel said with a wry smile as he approached his friend, handing him a short of whiskey. Thankfully, the local bartenders had been good enough to bring some with them.

"Any trouble this year? We'd hate to have a repeat of 2013, wouldn't we?" He said with a dry chuckle, draining the remainder of his glass. It had been fairly quite two years ago - until some kids had decided to bring a bit more light to the apartment building by setting fireworks off in the basement.

Truly genius.

Lola gave a soft yawn then huffed impatiently, her cherry red lipstick made any movement from her mouth much more noticeable. The frown she made was incredibly cute, even upset or irritated, Lola never lost that classic 50's beauty from her face. Her finely manicured nails tapped against her hip as she swayed them, adjusting her posture to better suit where she stood, though it only a constant repetition of her shifting her weight from hip to hip, back and forth. The Japanese man who sat at the bar caught her eye with his own, peeking from her, a bit of curiosity, and perhaps, mischief- What was his name again? Ichiro? She thought carefully, after all, she didn't want to mispronounce his name and offend him, especially on first impression. Rolling a shoulder casually, she strolled past the crowd, making her way to the bar. Even in her unnecessarily high heels, she stepped lightly on her toes.

"Good evening, Ichiro. I hope you don't mind if I drink with you."
Lola's smirk had a way of making a man's knees turn to jelly, so she might as well try it on Ichiro. "I don't believe we've conversed before, but I've definitely noticed you in the halls. It's hard to miss someone as striking as you.
She leaned against the bar, purring into the ear of the bartender for a shot whiskey, which she swung back, swiping her tongue across her top lip.
She definitely earned herself a few glances from the other men around her.

---

Potatoes consumed. The beast is satiated and the masses are safe from her idle wrath.

Jasmine leaned back in her chair, hand rested on her abdomen. She took out her phone and eyed it for a moment, mindlessly flipping through some unspecified pages. As she sat there, she was approached and verbally accosted in a most uncouth manner.

"Hey, uh..." A teenage girl said, tapping Jasmine's shoulder. The rasta-beast turned her head with a half-scowl-half-look of question. The teenager, accompanied by a few friends (not the same group from before, mind) continued, "None of the other tables are open, are you done with this one?"

Jasmine paused for a moment, eyeing her empty food bowl.

"Nah." She replied.

"But you're not eating?" The teenager retorted, starting to pick up some lip.

"Well maybe..." Jasmine said, "I've got the mind to go get seconds, and I'd like to keep this table to myself in that scenario."

"Are you serious?" The teenager exclaimed.

Another pause. Jasmine twitched ever so slightly as she looked around the room, then said just a little quietly, "You know what? You want this table... you can fight me for it."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me Gretchen, fight me. This banquet sucks and I wanna burn off this bowl of mash through unarmed combat."

"You can't be for real."

Jasmine slammed her hand on the table, her look of anger growing. "Fight me or relocate yourself, Jennifer."

The girl eyed Jasmine for a second before turning and, as suggested by the pygmy viking goddess, relocated herself. Jasmine grit her teeth as she slowly sat back down. Some folks were starting to stare and whisper.

Jasmine just sat there, looking irritated. She didn't even go for seconds or check her phone.

Ichiro turned around as he heard quiet clicking of heels on the marble floor, his eyes falling upon Lola's scintillating form. He'd seen her in the hotel only a few times, but the few times were more than enough to inspire an interest in the classic beauty. He dipped his head in welcome, offering his trademark grin that was equal parts mischief and mystery.

"Of course not, Ms. Earnest. In fact, it will be my pleasure."

Her smile did not help his self-control, but he managed with his rigorous discipline. Good things came to those who waited. Yet, he was beginning to rethink the adage when she threw back a shot of whiskey and licked any remainder from her mouth with a sensual swipe of the tongue. He felt the familiar fire of lust and allowed himself that same smile. He brazenly looked her from her well-styled hair down to her wonderfully painted toes. He poured another cup of sake into the small cup, tossing it back easily, not to be outdone by anyone. She was not the only seductress he'd known in his illustrious life, but she was the most confident he'd met. That trait might have been just as appealing as the form-fitting dress and her bedroom eyes. "You look simply ravishing in that dress, Lola. Yet... probably more so out of it," countered Ichiro, comfortable and confident. He had begun to lean towards her, one arm laid upon the bar, his hand resting just past the arm she leaned with on the counter.

He was briefly distracted by the sound of an altercation, but it was merely the rasta girl asserting herself over another. Inconsequential when the real event was the vision of a woman in front of him. His focus re-centered on his drinking companion. He poured another shot of sake and indicated for the bartender to do the same for Lola. He picked up the whiskey, holding it between three fingers and offering it to Lola as he held a shot of his own sake.

After having been given luck by the Japanese resident, Aaron watched him as he headed to the bar. He debated on whether or not to join Ichiro, but decided against as he was on duty. Besides, he couldn't afford to get fired. He had no clue what he'd do if he did end up leaving the police department. Aaron's main goal was to rise to chief anyway.

Snapping out of his daydream, Aaron realised Samuel was standing right beside him. With Samuel's threat of suicide out of the way, his friend then went on to reminisce about the time some more distasteful residents of the tower set off fireworks in the building's basement. That took about two weeks to clean up, with Aaron forced to oversee it. He never did find out who did it.

"I hope not," Aaron started. "Especially not with Yates on me to get everything locked down this month. Guy seems more uptight than usual."

Aaron chuckled, but his happiness was cut short by the sound of a fist banging down on the table. He looked up to see the tower's resident delinquent causing hassle once more. Aaron didn't mind her, he just had never bothered to remember her name. He recognized her though through previous encounters. He glared at her though, regardless of whether or not she noticed.

Lola bit her lip, quite pleased with Ichiro's response, leanings in as he had done so. She traced the tip of her fingernails softly across his hand, her glistening eyes looking up into his own. "Perhaps..." She put her lips against his ear, walking her pointer and middle finger up his arm to his neck. "...You could help take it off."
Ichiro was certainly bold, and from how he held himself before, it was unexpected from a man who look strict and in control. She didn't complain though. She was practically in his arms by how close she was to him, inching towards the Japanese man until they were exchanging body heat.

The rasta girl's sudden outburst startled Lola momentarily, wrapping her arm around Ichiro's as she looked around to see where the distraction had come from. She chuckled, putting a hand to her exposed chest to feel her heart beat quicken. "Forgive me for jumping, Ichiro. I know I shouldn't worry being next to you." Lola accepted the drink from her new lover, downing it with one swig so she may continue nuzzling him.

Ichiro's skin crawled with goosebumps as her manicured nails traced a path on his hand, then arm, and finally the sensitive neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in Lola's heady scent for a moment, before opening and staring into the woman's seductive gaze. "I think that could be arranged.." He tossed back his shot and let his hand go from the counter to her lower back, with a gentle yet insistent pressure. This woman could bring a dead body back to life with her actions and Ichiro was a long ways from the grave.

Ichiro laughed throatily, enjoying the show her startled reaction had wrought. "You're right, you're safe, at least from danger, with me." He stood then, taking the half-empty of bottle of sake in his free hand as his arm trailed from her lower back to her hip, pulling her into side. "What do you say to leaving this stuffy party? My suite is much more... intimate."

Lola smirked at Ichiro's physical response to her sensual actions. He was certainly easier to seduce than she thought, and as delighted as she was with this result, she keep her heartbeat even. Pressing her chest to his, she swung her fair hair away from her shoulders to show her entire face as she looked up at the Japanese man. "Please, lead the way." She gestured towards the door, flickering her delicate fingers, using her other hand to stroke Ichiro's jawline alluringly.
The blonde temptress thought out her plan with Ichiro as she smiled at him, wondering if she should stay with him for just the night or if she should focus more on another, like the British man or police officer she often saw in the halls. From what she knew, Ichiro was strong, attractive, exotic, and from how secure she felt just being beside him, she trusted him to protect her from any ex-hooligans or the occasional mugger.
Lola finally made up her mind; She was going to stay with him, at least until she found someone better.