<div class="floatright">(https://78.media.tumblr.com/2920a153723ecb0839325321967508c3/tumblr_oplvw8Nk7Y1w6bn9yo1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Evion Raymond (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=281599.msg13847475#msg13847475)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>White suit as pictured (https://78.media.tumblr.com/2920a153723ecb0839325321967508c3/tumblr_oplvw8Nk7Y1w6bn9yo1_500.jpg)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Hilton Hotel Ballroom<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jon, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Evion grins, an easy substitute for hello I`m dying inside please help. He takes a moment to collect his breath, “Mo-model citizen? You? Never, not, no hadn't thought possi-possible.” The fuzzy, blurred, weirdly angled memories of Jon that float into his mind like polaroids on a really old string don`t confirm or deny. They never talked much.<br/>Evion reaches back with a laugh and lays the empty plate on the table, close elbow position for easy access. Every awkward conversation needs getaway food. Every conversation has the potential to be awkward.<br/>Fingers idly tap on the tabletop, a beat vaguely mimicking the song playing over the crowd in a hushed atmospheric haze.<br/><br/>Radio host. Star entrepreneur. Lead vocalist in a hit series. Evion gives a one sided shrug.<br/>“I`ve ah, yeah, been-been around. Ten years. Long time. I- how do you even start?” he blows out air, posture relaxing into the conversation.  “Cruised the block, bought a block, though a-about kids, Haven`t had kids. Its, that’s uh, its weird to say that, say that about kids… I think I`m an uncle now?”<br/>The crowd ebbs and flows with arrivals. Brown eyes flick habitually over the passers by, on the lookout for friends, foe and those he always meant to gather courage to talk to. Masses of people, brunettes, blondes, suits and gowns. Half still tower over him. That at least is a constant.