cuddlecity | EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

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EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

Blink, and a week goes by; close your eyes, and the evening of the fifteenth comes to life, the cool glow of moonlight illuminating the quiet streets of the city. For once, it seems like the entire city's come to a standstill — many of the local businesses have closed early today, with signs advising they'll reopen first thing in the morning, and even the dependable, cheerful squawks of the street vendors have hushed for the time being. Hurried as this year's event may seem, the annual celebration is a city tradition that's not to be missed; bakers and booksellers alike know this all too well, and any lingering souls in their shops will be gently but firmly shooed to the exits by late afternoon. They've got to get all dolled up too, after all, and such finery takes time.

Whether the Social Committee's video enticed you or you've been dragged by the metaphorical scuff tonight, the Samhain Ball hopes to offer you an evening of seasonally appropriate escapism. There's something for everyone tonight, from the comforting swells of smooth jazz and upbeat swing pouring out from the stage where a live band plays, to the mouth-watering smells and tastes of a gourmet plated meal served early in the evening, to even the simple beauty of the decorated ballroom itself.

The first hour or so of the evening allows for guests to enter at their leisure through double doors at the north end of the ballroom, where all are greeted by the smiling faces of Flora and Cornelius in their matching cream pantsuits. Should you choose this main entrance, you and your companion — or companions, if you've brought more than one — will be announced in grand style, befitting the occasion. (Savvy — or sneaky — attendees may note the auxiliary entrance on the west side of the ballroom. Follow the garden path, and be mindful of the sprinklers. They do have a tendency to go off at the wrong moments.)

Take a look around, and soak in the sights. The ornately carved ceiling of the ballroom has been obscured for the evening with tasteful black draping dotted with the gentle glow of strung lights. It lends a twilight quality to the evening, enhanced by the soft flicker of tea lights placed at the center of each table on the east side of the ballroom and the sconces hung on the wall throughout. Each table, too, features a soft cream tablecloth and a bounty of autumnal florals, perfectly arranged to match the golden chairs surrounding. There's plenty of seating for all, and no assignments — feel free to claim a table for you and yours, and free your hands of anything you may not wish to carry.

The slow fade of music from the stage signals attention to a single woman illuminated by spotlight, whose silhouette should look familiar to anyone who's spent time in the city. With a small, tired smile, Mayor Drake welcomes you and yours to the city's annual Samhain Celebration Ball; her speech is short, but touches on the importance of the holiday, from the appreciation of the harvest to the welcoming of the new year, and reminds both natives and visitors alike to take time in the coming months to cherish their blessings — including this most immediate one, the promised Samhain feast.

Once you've settled around a table, the ballroom welcomes you to chat with strangers and friends alike, encouraging conversation with soft instrumental music and the quiet, pleasant generosity of passing waiters carrying flutes of happily bubbling champagne. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone, after all.

Dinner is an affair in itself, plated and served by hushed but skilled waiters whose capable hands whisk courses in and out with no more than a smile. No matter your dietary preferences or needs, there's an appetizer, entree, and everything in between available for you — simply raise a hand, and a member of the waitstaff will be at your side to assist in taking your order when you're ready. Linger as long as you like at the table; there's no rush to leave, but when you're ready, let the swells of the music from the stage entice you to the west side of the ballroom, where a dance floor's lit by the warm glow of so many twinkling lights overhead.

The music itself goes on through the wee hours of the evening, so there's plenty of opportunities to fill your dance card with any number of partners. The songs themselves vary from gentle waltzes perfect for cheek-to-cheek swaying to faster rhythms suited for swing dancing's signature dips and twirls, and requests are always welcome if you've something particular in mind. There's even a microphone tucked to the side, just in case you feel the urge to croon with accompaniment to someone special as the night goes on.

Of course, if you don't feel like dancing, or just need to rest your feet, there's plenty of entertainment tucked in the hall. In a small room just off the ballroom, you might find a collection of old-fashioned photobooth machines, ordered on accident and set here where they won't clash with the rest of the decor. They're operational, of course, and free of charge; feel free to take a few silly photos, but be sure to wait for them to print. There's the gardens, too, equally decorated with twinkling lights, though the effect is muted by the moonlight that trickles through the canopy overhead; the adjoining hedge maze and walking paths have often been a perfect site for quiet walks and romantic interludes in years past.

While a perfect world might allow such a charmed evening to last forever, unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and as the late hour of the evening gives way to the promise of dawn, a familiar tune is played to signal the end of the event. As the lyrics go, you don't have to go home... but you can't stay here. Time to make your way to the exit, and see where else the night takes you.

Whew, talk about words. Should you need a recap: be pretty, because this is a fancy event. Bring a friend or come stag, whatever you choose; eat, drink, dance (or don't) and be merry, for this is an event without any dramatic accidental consequences. Well, except the sprinklers... and maybe your own excessive consumption of champange, but that's up to you!

And, though we say it every time, please don't forget that your mod team is here for you with answers to any questions you might have, whether related specifically to this event or the game in general. If you have any further questions specific to this event, we encourage you to ask away on our QUESTIONS COMMENT here in this post. If you have general questions, or prefer a more private venue, our GENERAL INBOX (and SCREENED INBOX) is always available for you.

Enjoy your evening, cuddlers, but if you would, please — save the last dance for us?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The lessons that she had made him take hadn't been so awful, even if he'd scowled his way through most of them, especially when the instructor would pick and snap at his hips, like he could somehow fix everything he was doing so quickly. Vasquez just thought it lucky he'd left his guns at home and wasn't feeling like a fist-fight, but he has to admit, now, that maybe he managed to pick up at least one or two little tricks.

Smoothing a hand through his slicked hair (still aching for his missing hat), he adjusts his suit again, not feeling very comfortable despite the similarity in layers, before he heads to Buffy's side, holding a hand out very properly, just like he'd been taught.

Apparently, you can teach a rabid dog at least one trick.]

So, are you going to step on my feet during the first dance, B? Or will I have to wait until later for that pleasure.

[ The scowling had been adorable, not that she was ever going to say that to him out loud. To be fair, she knew it was a lot for him to take in so quickly. She also wasn't expecting it to be professional dance level standards. She really would have just been happy to sway back and forth while holding onto him.

But truth be told? Vasquez in a suit was a sight she could definitely get used to. She wasn't entirely sure she'd made it known well enough by the way she'd just started at him with a dazed look and crooked smile for a full minute before finally managing a very articulate huh? when she'd first seen him.

Buffy took his hand with that same crooked smile and then faced him as they stood on the dancefloor. Her eyebrow crept up as she laughed. ]

I don't know, V, how would you cope with my heels pressing into those shoes of yours, or should I just kick them off?

If you take off your heels, I think I will have to hunch to dance with you. Do you want me to have a lump in my back?

[He's only teasing, really, because he doesn't think that she'll actually end up stepping on his toes and even if she does, Vasquez is willing to endure a little pain in order to be close with her in a proper way. He fiddles a little with the collar of his shirt when it flips the wrong way, settling her hand on his shoulder the way they had done at the lessons.

This is all so much more work than he's used to, but then, what he's used to is fairly rough and tumble, so he ought to get used to that.]

I know it's not what we were taught, but...you lead.

No, I don't want you with a lump on your back. Even if it would give me an excuse to offer you a massage.

[ She arched an eyebrow before grinning a little and ducking her head. She also wasn't going to express all the ideas she had for how they could help close the height difference. Not yet, anyway.

Buffy looked up again, surprised at his request but she wasn't about to argue. She felt bad enough putting him through all of this when he was surrounded by culture shocks. She frowned a little as she adjusted her thinking and then started to lead him. ]

Hey, we'll make a modern man out of you yet. You're already embracing equal opportunity.

I didn't know your hands would somehow be involved if I had back problems. Maybe I should rethink this, then?

[No, he's not going to, because it would be very awkward and he hadn't really felt very confident during his lessons to feel good enough to be able to do anything but the basics, but he's trying to make an effort because she's a beautiful, kind woman. He makes lots of efforts for those, even if he's still terrified to death of what that could actually mean.]

A hundred and fifty years' difference, I have new clothes, odd jobs. What more does it take to make me modern?

Maybe you should. It's very therapeutic and good for the soul.

[ The massaging. She smiled at him still, maybe picturing him shirtless again and what it would be like to "help" him in that way. She's not entirely altruistic in her motives to have him learn dancing or to come with her to the ball. ]

Ah, how about watching movies or TV? Listening to the more modern music. I think you'd really like stuff from the seventies. And I'm pretty sure you haven't spent enough time in a candy store. Sugary goodness.

I think you can convince me about this massaging, maybe even after my back aches from too much spinning?

[He wants to make sure that she's in her right mind this time, of course, because the last thing he needs is another temptation like before, especially when he's not sure he would be so strong as to hold off, because his patience and his willpower only stretch so far.]

I didn't listen to music much before. Candy, though, something sweet, that you could persuade me to try. I have a little bit of a bottomless stomach, not sure if you noticed.

I think it's the least I could do, even if you seem to prefer being repaid with food.

[ Buffy was most definitely in her right mind. She was flirting because she liked Vasquez, and frankly, at least this was easing into it a little bit more comfortably for both of them. And this way she hopefully had nothing to feel embarrassed about the day after, but she knew her own track record well enough. ]

Then it's a date. Another date. Or maybe after the ball? I don't know how late the candy store stays open, but they'd be stupid to shut early. There's so many wonderfully awful things to make you try. And I have noticed, it's another reason I like you. I'm not shy about eating either.

[ Benefits of a boosted metabolism thanks to getting her Slayer powers. She was pretty sure she could keep up with Vasquez. ]

What can I say, food is delicious and before here, I didn't know when I would get to enjoy my next meal.

[It's true, though. As much as he's been hungry for food, he's also been hungry for touch. Buffy asking him to dance with her and giving him food after satisfies both those needs, which means that he's more than willing to curl into her touches and dance badly, all for the rewards he can reap from them.]

I think maybe another date. Mostly because after the next cigarillo I'll have, candy in my mouth is only going to taste like tobacco and ash.

[So will he, but he's not thinking about that so much. It's not something he ever really had to think about before.]

Oh no, I get it. Wasn't a complaint. I like that I get to introduce you to all kinds of food. Just don't expect me to cook. Not yet. I'm working on it. Gonna get lessons.

[ And he was the clean break from her romantic past that she needed. No history in Sunnydale. No dumb curse preventing them from touching. No clash with her ideals and no saving the world to get in the way. Although it was maybe a little harder now to keep from rushing things after being so close to doing so the other night.

Her nose crinkled a little as he mentioned candy tasting like tobacco and ash. He would be the first smoker she'd been involved with. Maybe she needed to gently steer him towards chewing gum without giving up his habit. ]

I can handle that. Not that I'm in a rush for tonight to end. But next dates are nice to think about.

[ As was a first proper kiss, but she wasn't about to bring that up. She didn't need him looking like she'd lost her mind again. ]

I don't really know that I've had a home cooked meal since before things went bad at Rose Creek.

[It had been better than he remembered, but then, it's not hard to impress him when he had been half-starved in the wilderness before that, hunting and trying his best to find whatever he could.]

I think I owe you at least a few more dances to make up for all the lessons we took. Prove I can be a good student, yes? So, tell me, how am I doing so far?

[He asks this just as he twirls her, though the motion is stopped when he trips up in the middle and his elbow gets caught near her shoulder, which isn't how this is supposed to work.]

Something to work towards, but I really wouldn't subject you to my cooking at this point. Honestly, you're better off just leaving me with the swords.

[ She could joke about it now. But back when she'd prepared a Thanksgiving feast for her entire Sunnydale family, she hadn't found it so funny when they'd complained. Buffy was capable of a lot of things, but not cooking.

She had been nodding in the affirmative before the twirl became a misstep and managed to untangle them before she repositioned his arm. ]

Re-do? And you're doing fine, even with that fumble. Maybe you're no Fred Astaire yet, but it's not like you need to go around dancing in the rain. Perfectly okay with taking it easy.

We still need to arrange for you to teach me swords. I can teach you the lasso, maybe gun-spinning, if you like?

[He also wants to learn how to use a sword, so it's very selfish of him. Not to mention, he very much likes to think of a woman who knows how to handle herself with weapons, so there's no bad side to this. He grimaces when he fucks up the turn, sighing as he gives her a wary look.]

I never know what half the words people say here. It's all fancy and English and very strange and I'm not.

[Really, he swears, Mexican cowboys from the 1800's are perfectly normal as far as he's concerned.]

Just name a time, I'll work out the place. And the equipment. Oh! Gun-spinning. I wanna look cool. Plus at least I won't have to actually shoot anyone here.

[ Buffy had only ever had to show the basics to her friends, so it was going to be new territory for her to teach someone properly. And there was definitely a part of her starting to feel the urge to show off and let Vasquez see what she was really capable of.

Buffy's smile was a little more apologetic this time and she shifted so that his arms slipped around her waist and hers slid around his neck. Not entirely unlike the way they'd danced at the Deviant but this time she wasn't grinding against him or trying to get his shirt off. This time she just guided him into a gentle sway. Who cared what the lessons had tried to teach him? She really was fine with simple. ]

And I'm probably not the best girl for you to keep hanging out with if you want proper English. My Spanish is... atroz. I need to make more of an effort.

[Vasquez is never going to rule out the need to shoot someone, because you never know when someone might be plotting against you or coming to murder you or any other number of things that he doesn't think about regularly. So yes, he'll keep his gun license and be ready, but he won't seek it out.]

We'll find a day, then.

[He readjusts his fingers on her waist, finding himself more comfortable versus the strange position from before, sliding them a little further so that he can tug her in against him, moving slowly to the music.]

I know enough English, but it's the modern slang I don't understand. It's all different from the English I learned as a boy. That, I can get by with.

[ For as long as there's no vampires looking to suck anyone's blood, Buffy is embracing the whole weapons down retirement thing. Even if there's this constant restlessness at never quite exerting enough energy. Or maybe it was just the fact that she'd gotten used to going out every night and hitting a lot of bad guys. ]

As long as it doesn't clash with any shift Faith gives me, I am all yours, V.

[ The dancing had been too formal even for Buffy. This was better. This felt more intimate. She smiled at being pulled in closer, eyes flicking over his face and the slicked back hair and trimmed beard. ]

By the way, have I told you enough times yet that you clean up pretty well? I'm definitely filing this mental image away for later.

You get by really well, trust me. Honestly? A lot of it just comes from movies and TV and you have mucho to catch up on. You'll pick it up the more you talk to people. Which I know is not always your favourite thing.

I still have to meet this Faith of yours, see what I think of her.

[He thinks that so long as Buffy's opinion remains decent, the woman has a leg-up, though he also knows better than to guarantee he's going to like someone. Then again, on the other hand, he has a history of liking people that most don't, becoming friends with people who ought to be frustrating and annoying.]

Haven't had a reason to clean up in a while. I spent three months without a mirror, things got let go.

[He's vain enough to admit that he's grateful for the chance to dress up and work against that wildness, but still, he also thinks it will only be for special occasions. Easing her in against him, he gives her dress an appraising look.]

You look very good too, you know. Even if you are talking about talking to people, who could be very annoying and make me want to shoot something.

You know what? I'm really looking forward to hearing all about it.

[ Buffy wasn't even sure which way she wanted to place her bets. It could either end in Faith and Vasquez drinking heavily and bonding, or one of them getting thrown across the room. She was hoping for the former. Not that she needed Faith to approve of the cowboy, but it would hold the truce between them. Maybe.

She blinked at his comment, trying not to smile as she considered the fact that she really was starting to develop a type; tall, out of time, and lacking in mirrors. ]

Understandable, and hey, you had the scruffy thing working for you too. Pretty sure you won't ever actually look bad.

[ Buffy grinned at the compliment. She would have maybe twirled for him but she was enjoying the closeness far too much. ]

Thanks, V. I was hoping you'd approve. How about I do you deal? For every conversation you don't enjoy I'll give you a kiss.

The scruffy thing was also because I didn't trust a man with sharp things at my neck.

[ Five hundred dollars is a lot of reasons why things didn't happen, like haircuts and spending nights with women or going into towns. None of it had been worth his life. That's not so much of a problem here, he's discovering. ]

You're making me want to not enjoy a lot of conversations, B. This is a dangerous thing, you know.

[ He's been thinking about more than just a kiss since that night with the drinks and the dancing. He had restrained himself then, but he's not sure he could do it again. ]

Just so I prepare myself, should I be expecting you to sleep with one eye open?

[ Not that she couldn't blame him for still expecting the worst. It was an adjustment for most people used to a life of danger. Buffy probably shouldn't have been as quick to let her guard down and relax, but honestly? She was just tired. And probably selfish in wanting to forget about Slayer duties. ]

Well, I figure it's the fun kind of danger. And since we both sorta like danger, why not?

[ She gave him a wink and started to laugh before she let her arms slide down from around his neck and her hands rest against his biceps. To say she had been thinking about more would have been a lie, but she also felt nervous like it was her first time. Unsure about how to bring it up, or if she should. She still felt foolish about the other night despite it not being entirely her fault. ]

It's a bad habit, but yes, I do.

[It had been how he stayed alive, and even then, people like Sam Chisolm still managed to track him down, so he's not sure what else he could have done. Now, he doesn't worry about that, but he also can't go and stop himself from worrying about it all the time.]

I like fighting and danger where I know I'm going to win. Danger where my head might be on the line? Okay, then, yes, still entertaining a bit.

[He can't help his shiver when she touches him a little more, as needy and wanting for it as he is. He inhales deeply and gives her a half-lidded look as he steps in a little, brushing some hair back from off her face.]

If I took what I wanted, would you be cross at me for it?

Got it. I'll try not to make any sudden movements of my own.

[ And she wasn't really one to judge. It was still highly possible she slept with a cross nailed to the wall, and garlic hung from the curtain rod. That was definitely going to take some explaining, but baby steps. ]

We definitely have that in common, but I guess I also kinda got sick of the easy wins. I needed the real challenges.

[ But maybe Glory had been too much of a challenge. Buffy had sacrificed herself so the others could survive. So her sister could live. But at least she was here now.

She instinctively rose to the touch, trying to close that gap between them even further. ]

I think I'd be cross if you didn't. You've earned whatever you want to take.

I've had too many challenges. The last battle I fought, that was how I got my scar. I was the lucky one to survive, but odds were against me. Four of us died, out of seven. It's maldita, bad luck.

[He's not feeling such bad luck right now, though, drifting in and staring down at her, clucking his tongue against his teeth a few times as he debates his actions, pressing his hand to the small of her back.]

You're not drunk, no? No strange feelings outside of the normal tonight?

Wow, those are some pretty crappy odds. I'm so sorry, V. I'm still trying to even picture what it must have been like in those times. Even though you survived, I'm glad we both ended up here.

[ Buffy rose up completely on her tip-toes to bump her nose against his, giving him a softer smile as the swaying seemed to slowly becoming to halt even if the music was still playing. She couldn't deny that her heartbeat kicked up a notch either in anticipation. ]

I'm clean, promise. I have only had a limited amount of alcohol and none of it was gold or mysterious. This is just me.

You saw the scar, that's where it's from. You can't argue what a Gatling gun does for damage. It's better for me that I'm here. After, it would've been bad too. Too much hiding, too much loneliness.

[He aches from that loneliness even here, sometimes, when there are people and the distance closing between them means that those old touch-starved instincts are kicking in and he needs something more than just a touch. Careful not to ruin her hair, he lets his fingers rest lightly on the back of her neck as he bends down for a kiss that's neither slow, nor hesitant. He knows what he wants, now.

It's this, a sure kiss as he presses against her body, knowing that she's not drinking anything strange and she's herself. He hasn't had a cigarette in hours, his breath tasting of mint from the sorbet he'd eaten, and though he doesn't press, he's hoping she responds and gives him the permission he's silently seeking.]

dancing

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