EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

[cuddlemods]

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?

Comments

Rip Hunter | OTA (whether he likes it or not)

[directed]

[Truth be told, Rip originally had no intention of coming to the event itself; he's put his time into making an appropriately colored cake to be delivered for the evening, marbled on the inside as had been per the city's request, and surely that should be enough "good will" to offer up for the present. But as he is coming to learn, Rip will likely get away with very little during his stay in Cadelle; all too many insistent messages to his phone have him relenting, donning a white suit for the evening and showing up to spend some time at the ball.

But coming in through the side entrance, thank you very much. Rip has absolutely no desire to have his name announced to the gathering at large.

Of course, now that he's there that means he can hang by the sidelines and watch the goings-on, doesn't it? Not that he won't participate at all; there's a rather fine looking meal, and Rip, there on his own, will try to find an empty seat to enjoy it at (but only after asking politely). Same goes for the champagne. But dancing cheek to cheek and moonlit strolls lack much of their appeal when one is on their own and not necessarily looking for the romance the atmosphere implies--though he does head outside a time or two, just for a bit of fresh air, and time away from the thick of the crowd.]

{{ooc: open to all and to just about anything; hit me up if you want to hash anything out.}}

[leaguer]

Nnnnot so fast, mister.

( it's a declaration that's accompanied by a hand, lightning fast, seizing rip's wrist as he tries to take a seat at one of the large dining tables on one side of the large hall. this entire thing is entirely sara's fault, and she doesn't have an ounce of caring in her system; rip may have attempted to forego the event for reasons that vex her, but she knows how to be persistent. allowing a member of her team, a friend, wallow in a tiny starter apartment by themselves all night instead of mixing and mingling just isn't gonna cut it.

good thing rip's not in the mood to dance, because sara sure is, tugging him towards the dance floor and taking extra caution not to step on her dress. white felt a little cliché for her, a little expected, so she's glad to rock bedazzled black, a sharp contrast from the clean white of rip's suit. ) I think you still owe me a dance.

( you know, one that's not a part of an undercover mission to stop a blood ritual from happening. )

[directed]

[Well, always nice to see that League of Assassins training paying off.

Rip knows he's caught the moment he feels Sara's iron grip on his wrist, as sure and unyielding as the woman herself so often tends to be. He's got just long enough to look at her—and to think that she does indeed look stunning in that dress—before he's being pulled not towards the safety of tucked away tables, but the center of the hall, where the dance floor has been set up for all to enjoy.

At least he can dance; this would be worlds away worse if Rip lacked that particular skill.]

I wasn't aware I owed you a dance, Miss Lance. [Or that she'd become so fond of it since their last one. Unholy blood ritual aside, Rip remembers a fair bit of reluctance on her part that time, a claim that she wasn't so much a dancer.

Perhaps this is not a case of a debt then, but revenge.

Yet even he must admit there are worse ways in which it could happen. So he doesn't put up nearly so much resistence as he likely could, instead following after Sara as she moves smoothly through the crowd.]

[leaguer]

( she knew you'd appreciate that, rip hunter, league of assassins fanboy. it's not every day she gets to utilize her league skills, especially not here in cadelle.

sara's grip on rip's wrist doesn't remotely loosen until they're well-placed in the midst of swaying couples partaking in dances of their own to the swell of the music. ) Of course you do. Our last dance got cut short.

( not that she'd minded, as pretending to be drunk and kicking a few goons in the face will always be more exciting to sara lance. there is something appealing about whisking rip onto the dance floor, though — the spontaneity of it, welcome for her as she's sure it is for him after so much time spent trapped in the waverider and miniaturized.

the hand around his wrist gives way as her fingers instead brush over his palm and take his hand, the other settling on his forearm, mouth quirking into a wry smile. )

Maybe you can tell me if I got any better.