Si stellae vivere.

If the stars live.

Whatever that's supposed to mean, that's the code to get into this gala. A coronation, and a very important one at that. Charleston Incorporation's own CEO, Malachi Charleston, has chosen to retire after fifty years. His son, your target for tonight, is about to be announced as the new CEO and owner of the company.

But not on your watch. According to your employer, a man you owe a large debt to, this son of Malachi was a lying, cheating, immature man that would never run the company as it should and is better off dead. As... gruesome as it sounds, you're not meant to ask any questions other than how to complete the mission. So, being whisked right past security with a venomous blade in the end of a pen, and a few other undetectable OOC's (Optional Operations towards Action), aka weapons, you make it in.

With a formal black dress on--not too sensual, not too mature--and dark heels clicking along the shiny floors of the tall building, and your alias's story in check, you begin.

~

After a bit of casual chatting with the other people at the party, most of them go off to dancing, and you're left to momentarily enjoy the snack bar. There's food from all different cultures, and you lean towards the food most alike what your family always made. Since your family is from (press edit to make your choice) , it felt a little bit like home to eat those treats.

"I can't blame you, I spend a lot of time planning all of these," said a voice behind you. With a sweet cookie treat stuffed in your lips, you turn around, finding the man of the mission.

Ashton Charleston. He had a friendly, polite smile on his face, and his hair was a sun-bleached blond and... messy, but in a charming way, like he couldn't quite keep it nice, as hard as he tried. He wore a navy suit that complimented his dark, intense blue eyes, and he had a light, rebellious stubble along his jawline.

"I'm assuming you're the one who's my age?" He guesses with a wink, raising a glass of wine.