![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL. | |
![]() 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! |
no subject
Here, I — you know what, I don't think you're supposed to have alcohol with aspirin, but a little bit can't hurt, right? Just a couple sips?
( who knows. kara doesn't know. alcohol doesn't really register with kryptonians, and her sister has been on the verge of casual alcoholism for so long that it's just never been something she's thought about. a beer with advil never stopped alex. surely a few sips of wine and aspirin won't kill felicity.
at least, kara sure hopes it won't. )
Are you sure you're okay? You're not seeing double or weird floaty lights or hearing things backwards, are you? Because I'm pretty sure those are bad signs and we should probably get you to a hospital if that's the case.
( she could, in theory, scan felicity for internal injuries. she's done it before. but she doesn't want to freak her out too badly in the process, so kara holds back on that particular talent for the time being. )
no subject
To be fair, she really does consider it for a second, before she waves off the concern with her free hand. That ice pack for her head is really starting to numb things out. ]
Mmmm. No floaty lights. Or dancing stars.
[ She smiles, in an effort to comfort Kara that she's okay. That everything is totally and completely fine. All she did was bump her head on Kara's shoulder! But if her head hurts this much ... ]
Kara, how's your shoulder?
[ Because the two of them must have hit pretty hard if her head needs an ice pack. And aren't skulls supposed to be stronger than the bones in your arms? Maybe she made that up. ]
no subject
( but she's brushing off the question as soon as it comes up, a hardly believable deflection that's quickly swallowed up by the next motion; kara's eager to grab the attention of a passing waiter and request a glass of ice water to replace the glass of red wine she's given felicity to nurse. )
I'm pretty sturdy.
( this would make more sense if felicity actually remembered her. if she remembered the last time kara had been on earth-1, when she'd seen much stranger things than a flying supergirl with super cool ice breath. but for whatever reason, felicity doesn't remember. she doesn't know anything, and kara's terrified of being the person to spill the beans (again).
so, instead, she'll just continue to try and toddle around the truth until someone a little more experienced manages to figure out a better way to do this. )
Do you want me to get you anything else? Water's coming... and you still have ice. It's not melted, right? Because I can go get you more ice or something if you need it.
no subject
You must be. [ Pretty sturdy, that is.
In terms of anything else ... ] No I'm good, Kara. If you're okay, then you should- you know, go and enjoy the party! [ Is she trying too hard there? She probably can't pull off excited and wincing at the same time quite yet. ] I'll be fine, I'm promise.
no subject
but hovering over the other girl and making her feel uncomfortable isn't her intention, so when felicity tries to shoo her away, kara is willing to take the hint. somewhat, anyway. ) Okay, okay. If you promise you're okay, I'll go.
( but not without one last offer. supergirl is nothing if not super persistent. )
But if you feel light-headed or dizzy or anything, call me. No stumbling off and then passing out on your way home, do you hear me?
Oliver would kill me if anything happened to you.
( not to mention her own personal guilt complexes... )
no subject
[ A beat. ]
This place has hospitals right?
[ She never quiet thought about that before. Since you know, it's as close to paradise as she can imagine. ]
And right. Yes. I'll call you Kara. Thank you. Really.
[ AS FOR OLIVER THOUGH. The mention of the name triggers something in her — mostly the memory that someone who seemed to be Oliver Queen messaged her once. And then literally never replied again. ]
Oliver ... Queen?