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

( guess who actually cleans up pretty nice, when he gives a shit? rene goddamn ramirez, that's who.

okay, well it's not so much that he gives a shit, but hey, it's something to do. besides, oliver was nice enough to give him a little fashion advice beforehand 'cause rene's never been one for these fancy kinds of things, and mr. formerly-rich formerly-tabloid-beloved former-playboy oliver queen's got enough experience for the both of them combined. "rene ramirez! is announced as he arrives and he feels more than a little weird about it, mainly cause it seems like everyone and their mama came with a damn date, but that's aight.

who needs a date when there's this ridiculous feast, completely gratis? anyone knows rene from back home knows about his (probably disgusting, in their opinion) ability to wolf down a triple stack from big belly burger — this meal's a piece of cake. figuratively, although he's kind of hoping that there is some actual cake later on. he doesn't know anyone at his dinner table, but, with his main course plate completely cleaned, he may or may not sneak a glance to his neighbor's as they set their fork down, ask with a skeptically raised eyebrow: ) You done with that already?

( so, about that dance floor. dateless, he's not about to start getting down with his bad self in the middle of all the couples doing swing dancing and waltzing all fancy and shit, but rene's pretty content to watch idly from the sidelines, sip a flute of champagne or two, scan the crowd for a familiar face or two. ask him to dance, won't you? or maybe just stand there and commiserate with him. god knows he never shuts up — and you might be surprised at the kind of rhythm this gun-toting vigilante's got going on.

or wildcard me, or plot with me at

frickin / canary#4628. cool cool cool. )

( dear rene ramirez: you didn't think you could spend hours in her apartment getting formal wear advice and shooting the everyday shit with the other occupant and somehow not be required to dance at least one time with kara, did you? because that was certainly not going to happen, not if she had anything to say about it.

especially not when the bright sounds of brass roll through the room. definitely not when the band just so happens to bring out a particularly cheerful-sounding tune, conveniently timed for when her default dance partner just so happens to be otherwise occupied with his one obligatory brother-sister moment. oh, no. this is an opportunity that will not be missed. )

Come on, Wild Dog, ( is the only verbal warning he gets before slim fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging him off the sidelines and into the crowded dance floor. ) Don't be shy.

( has she had a few glasses of champagne by this point? maybe. were they tinged a little extra golden thanks to a particularly friendly looking bartender? maybe. don't judge her. she's just here to have a good time. )

I ain't shy, ( comes rene's only protest as he's dragged out onto the dance floor by a certain alien. there's little to no resistance as she drags him like a dog on a leash, but either way, he's pre-tty sure that there's a little bit of superstrength going on right now amidst her tipsy excitement.

all in all, it'll be a welcome change to finally step foot on the dance floor tonight, considering he's kinda been feeling like an idiot for not asking anyone to this shindig. a hand is placed respectfully at her waist (just in case a certain someone's got some arrows hidden somewhere that he feels like busting out tonight), the other taking her hand.

the song's faster than most of the other sappy, lovey dovey stuff that's been playing, got a little more energy to it, which rene takes to with ease, stepping in time with the beat and even going so far as to twirl kara around. when she returns: ) You guys got prom where you come from? In space?

You're pretty good at this!

( she's not exactly a trained dancer, but rene's surprisingly quite good at leading; kara's all smiles as he twirls her out onto the floor and then pulls her back again, the waves of her hair spilling out behind her as she does her best to match his movements. she might have dragged him, but she hadn't exactly expected to do much beyond bouncing to the beat, leaning back and forth the way she had in every dance thus far tonight. this is a surprising — and definitely enjoyable — surprise. )

And prom, on Krypton? I don't think so... ( granted, prom was more of a high school invention, and kara's schooling up until leaving her home planet had been decidedly on the private tutoring side. ) But definitely in Midvale. Which is where I went to high school.

You don't gotta sound so damn surprised, ( rene quips, but the hints of a grin spread across his cheeks say a hell of a lot more about how he feels about her surprise than anything.

he's good to keep her close now, though, keep on stepping to the beat so they can keep their conversation going. twirling her around over and over again might be fun, but it's bad for chit chatting and bad for dizziness. )

Oh. Well. I didn't know you went to school here. ( here being ... not cadelle, obviously. earth. ) Kinda just figured you just woke up one day and decided to fly down and cheerfully save the day in a random Earth city.

( if kara's disappointed by the gentle tap on the brakes when it comes to spinning and other more showy dance moves, she does her best not to show it. besides, it's kind of nice to linger here like this, and even more so to have an actual conversation for once. like this one. this is a good conversation to have.

a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth, and kara nods in understanding before offering a little more background. ) Most people do. At least with Supergirl, anyway. ( there's a bit of difference between kara and supergirl, but she doesn't make too much of a fuss about it. maybe someday he'll see her as the former and not just the latter, but for now, kara's content to let the argument lie. )

I was thirteen when I came to Earth — my planet was dying, and my parents sent me away to watch over my baby cousin Kal, and I would have been able to if my pod hadn't gotten stuck. ( a wry little laugh under her breath ) I woke up a couple dozen years later on Earth... and here I am now, I guess.

But I didn't actually start — ( a vague wave of her hand, as if to imitate the pattern of her cape in the air ) — well, you know. Supergirl'ing. I haven't been doing that very long, actually. I'm still pretty new at the whole hero thing.

[He's being judged for being hungry. Staring at him with narrowed eyes, he deliberately reaches his fork over to the man's plate in question to steal part of it, but then he finds that there's nothing there.]

Never met anyone who could eat something so fast as me.

[Well, he could, but usually it's someone in similar situations to him and they're fighting. This can't stand, though, because if his new acquaintance is someone who appreciates food as much as Vasquez, then they need to eat something more. Turning, he searches for where there's a waiter nearby, whistling to get their attention and gesturing to his and his neighbour's plates, gesturing for two more.]

See? We can fix that, easy enough. More for both of us.

( you're being judged for all the right reasons, buddy. rene's just glad that he doesn't have to judge the hell out of his neighbor for leaving such a delicious plate full of food almost untouched.

this guy knows what's up, he thinks, as vasquez orders more food for them. nice. )

Why do I feel like we're about to get into some kinda epic food-eating competition? I'd win, for the record.

You say that like it's a bad thing.

[Is it? How could it be? Vasquez has spent so long not getting regular meals at all that the thought of a competition where the result is that winner or loser, you get to eat a lot of food? Well, that sounds blissful. He grins at his new companion, delighted and thinking he's met a kindred spirit.]

I know why I eat so much. What's your excuse?

Oh hell no — it ain't a bad thing.

( rene sounds almost offended at the notion that a food-eating competition would be anything but a dream come true. in fact, he's already getting antsy waiting for their round two to get set down in front of them. )

Does there gotta be an excuse? Food's good. Gotta keep up a big caloric intake, too, if I wanna look like this. ( with a gesture towards himself 'cause he's jacked underneath this suit, okay?? )

Sometimes, people always think there should be a reason for why there is so much food eaten.

[In Vasquez's opinion, it all has to do with his circumstances, because it's not something that he would have done otherwise, rationing it out to other people who needed it more. Now, though, he takes what he can get, because he needs to put the weight back on.

It's a good thing that this place is ore than willing to provide and he's looking forward to round two.]

Look like what? Why do you need so much food for that?

[They didn't exactly carry Men's Health back where he's from, plus, he's still of the opinion that regular smoking and drinking is perfectly good for you.]

[ Well, when Rene's entrance is announced, something loosens up a little inside Claire. She's not the only one who's come to this shindig dateless, at least. She throws the man a look when he walks in, but quickly loses him in the hustle and bustle of the evening, off to do her own thing, have a few conversations, meet a number of new people. It's the night to do it, at least - nobody is naked this time around, there is no blood and no hostage situation going on, it's... surprisingly tame, really. Claire might be a little too used to all sorts of terrible things happening in her life.

She finds the man - Rene, she reminds herself, later on, as he stands by the dancefloor and looks on, drinking from a delicate looking flute. Claire has got her own as she sidles up next to him, tilting her chin towards the couples dancing. ]

You look like you're thinking about jumping in and starting a moshpit. [ Her tone is amused, a smile hinted at the corners of her lips. ]

( it's a shame, rene will soon realize, that he got here a little late to the game. if he hadn't, well, he could've seen this gorgeous chick beside him walk into this ballroom like she owns the damn joint, head held high and basking in her single status for the evening. maybe he would've felt a little less weird about being announced all by his lonesome, too.

luckily for him, the night decides to repay him for his misfortune, and here this girl is. her remark earns her a breath of laughter, a glance cast towards her before it's redirected back to the couples before them. )

Would probably need more than one person to start a moshpit.

[ Claire chuckles right back, her mind going back to indie nights in dingy clubs in Harlem and Queens when she was younger and trying to impress. ]

Well, you could always throw yourself into the dancers. Got to start somewhere.

[ Her smile is a little crooked as she looks ahead at the dancefloor. ]

I'd offer to join you, but I've promised my 20 year-old self I would never jump into a moshpit, ever again. Getting punched in the face once was enough.

[ Now if she's about to get injured, she needs to have a good reason. ]

Might not be the worst thing in the world. The cops here must be so bored all the damn time — maybe I should make their night a little livelier.

( he could do that. or he could gulp down the last of his champagne and place the empty flute atop the tray of a passing waiter, fold his arms across his chest and look over at his new companion with an expectant eyebrow. )

Or maybe we could save the punch throwing for another day and you can dance with me.

( coupled with an outstretched hand, because rene is smooth. )

And, if you get punched in the face, I can look after you. I'm a certified nurse, after all, and I'm also a little bored most days.

[ She grins at him, obviously kidding, before making a face, like she's considering his offer. Only a moment later, though, she slips her hand in his. ]

You're lucky that sounds a teensy more pleasant than starting a full-blown brawl.

[ She's still grinning, very willing to let herself be pulled close. He is - scars and all - very, very handsome, so why not? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

rene ramirez . ota

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feast

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