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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! |
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Glinda laughs, breathlessly, as her nose brushes against his. She watches him through her thick eyelashes, pulling away just enough to look at him easier. "I could have sworn I've said it at least twenty times," she teases back. "Which means you must have said that an equal number."
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He does, of course, because he's said that just as many times, but that look on her face and the way she looks back at him through her long lashes is worth teasing her each and every time. It will probably not be his last time saying it before the night is over, either, if she tells him again that she's glad he invited her.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks after a moment of swaying quietly with her.
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"Tomorrow?" Glinda repeats as she tilts her head. "I don't have anything planned... Why do you ask?"
She still hasn't found an actual job- just volunteer work as required. So there's no job demanding she be there at any point in the day. She likes to keep her schedule open. (And- okay- she's a little picky about the work she commits to.)
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Giving her a little facial shrug that turns into a smile, his shoulders move into a shrug as well. "I don't know, I thought maybe if you didn't have anything else going on, we could go out."
For a moment, he almost says "hang out" but decides at the last minute that that sounds entirely platonic in the context of the conversation and he doesn't want to make her think that it has to be that way when it doesn't. He'd be happy with that, too, of course, but he's mostly looking for a chance to explore whatever...this...could be. They may or may not be able to go any further than being friends who've shared some kisses and dances, but it's worth looking at a little, at least, isn't it?
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She hadn't come to Cadelle in search for something more than volunteering- to be perfectly honest, she didn't think she was deserving of anything like this. Whatever this was, or whatever it could be, without presuming anything. "I'd like that a lot..." It's best to emphasize, after all.
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Derek shakes that thought off, because now is neither the time nor the place for it and, besides, this isn't Beacon Hills. It's safer in Cadelle. She's safer in Cadelle.
"Good, then I'll call you in the morning and we can make plans?" he asks, eyebrows lifted with question. Not that he plans on leaving their conversation at that, because he'd much rather they continue dancing, but this way, he'll have that all nailed down and he can stop losing focus to the desire to ask.
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They could make the plans now, they were here together after all. But just as much as she wants to make those plans now, she also wants to revel in the here and now before it ends... Which reminds her:
"We came out to see that hedge maze, didn't we?"
They haven't made it to the maze just yet- though she was hardly complaining. Perhaps it would allow them a little more privacy, though.
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"Yes! Yeah, yes, you're right. We did," he agrees, stepping back slightly and taking her hand with a smile. "And so we should."
With that, he starts to lead her toward the edge of the maze. "I can probably sniff our way back out if we get lost," he says in a low voice. "So should we just wing it and see what we can do?"
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Glinda laces her fingers with his and follows him towards the edge. "Oh thank goodness."
She's not actually worried about getting lost in the maze, she could just as easily float the both of them out, but that doesn't really matter. "Though, there's no one I'd rather get lost in the maze with," she adds, tugging on his hand as she takes the lead into the made. For now.
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"Can I tell you something and have you promise not to freak out...again?" he asks with a lopsided smile that borders on apologetic. It's kind of important that he let her know that he knew who she was as soon as she said her name. He needs her to know that so that she can decide whether or not to keep seeing him. It occurs to him a little belatedly that he shouldn't keep that secret any longer.
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"Of course," she assures him as she glances back up at him. "You can tell me anything, you know."
Or perhaps he didn't and that's why he was so careful to confide in her. It's not that she could blame him, there were things she had yet to tell him... Things she had yet to really tell anyone here (or back home). Maybe, just maybe, she should confide in him as he's done with her...
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At her response, Derek gives a small little smile that looks a little bit preemptively apologetic. He slows to a stop, then, giving her hand a little squeeze as if to reassure her before he's even spoken yet.
"You know how we kind of all come from different worlds, here?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows slightly in question. "The thing is...in my world...your world is...from a story. Books adapted into a couple of films." He pauses a moment to let that sink in, wanting to get it all out before he lost his nerve, but not wanting to barrel forward before she can process what's been said. "...I already knew who you were. I don't know your whole life or anything, but I know a little portion of it. I know what Oz looks like, or looked like, depending on when you're from. It wasn't a real place, where I came from, but I just...thought you should know that I know a little. I felt bad kind of keeping it to myself when you deserved to know."
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It was a bit to process- that her life was a story to some people... or at least part of her life was. In a way it was almost comforting that he at least knew what Oz looks like, that there were some things he already knew. "Thank you for telling me," she finally manages with a small smile. "You don't have to feel bad, though. I can't imagine having to break that kind of news to someone."
It's probably just as awkward for him as it is for her. She brushes her hair from her face with her other hand and takes a deep breath. "I think... maybe tomorrow? We can talk about just how much of this story I'm in."
(Maybe all of it? She's nothing if not a star... Though, perhaps, that's the old her talking.)
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When Glinda tells him she wants to dismiss it until tomorrow, that's actually a huge weight off Derek's chest, because it means that he's got time to sleep on how best to gently proceed without breaking her brain more than he probably has. "I don't know the whole series, but what I do know, I'm willing to share. Tomorrow. That works for me."