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

[he might not admit it but he finds it awful nice too, chin coming to rest at the top of her head as they sway back and forth.]

Lucky for you, I might know a guy who knows a thing or two about music.

[beyond that one little comment though, he remains silent, thoughtful, as they continue to slowly dance along to the fading plucked notes by the band. until at last the song has ended.]

I think they kind of want us to, but I'm not exactly ready to call it a night. Are you?

Mm-mm, ( comes her wordless answer, accompanied by a soft shake of her head. ) But I don't want to go home yet, either.

( as the song comes to quiet and the band begins to pack up, kimberly lets what's left of the crowd guide them off the dance floor and towards the dining tables, where forgotten accessories and neatly packed leftovers are scooped up and collected before their owners meander out the doors.

in the late hours of the evening, the temperature difference is strong; no longer warmed by so many bodies in a small space and with the addition of a breeze, it's easily twenty degrees cooler outside than in the middle of the ballroom, and kimberly can't help the light scattering of goosebumps that skim over her bare shoulders as they meander towards the parking lot. )

Any ideas?

[wordlessly, he shucks off his jacket and drapes it around her shoulders.]

Let's get you warmed up. I think that's important. [and he has a few ideas about how he can manage that. the suggestion he offers though, is more sweet than seductive.]

Coffee and donuts sound good?

( she likely could have brought her own. a shawl, a wrap, something to cozy up in when the evening inevitably dipped into cooler temperatures. but she can't complain about the gentleman's gesture, or the fond smile he offers as they tuck into the front seat of the charger for a second time that evening.

or, really, the suggestion of a warm snack. when has kimberly hart ever turned down a sweet treat? ) Hot chocolate and donuts sounds even better. ( she's still not much of a coffee kind of girl. )

[he reaches over to slip his hand in hers as they drive away. she may be cold, but he's far from it, fingertips as warm as ever as he rubs against her chilly digits.]

Hot chocolate works too. Glazed it is. [he speeds them through town, blessed by good luck and no red lights the whole way there.]

( perhaps it's the fact that the late hours of the evening bump into the early hours of the morning, or that the city's hosted party is an annual tradition that often lets out hungry patrons at this hour — regardless of the reason, she's quite happy to find the bright neon sign of glazed welcoming them in, the scent of sugar and yeast in the air.

it doesn't take long to order, and the shopgirl behind the counter shoos them away to a booth by the window to wait; it proves a perfect place to curl up, heels kicked off yet again as her head leans against the cool back of the booth. )

If you're lucky, maybe I'll give you a bite of one of mine.

[there's no glowing sign proclaiming that the donuts are "hot now" but glazed manages to be as delightful (and delicious) as the ever popular krispy kreme. of course, krispy kreme doesn't have such comfortable booths, a fact that robbie's especially grateful for as he loosens his tie while they wait for their order to arrive.]

You're so generous, babe. I'm just glad I managed to find the one flavor donut that you don't like.

Wow, rude. ( but she really doesn't like coffee flavored anything, even things where the coffee's met with sweet caramel or thick chocolate icing, so his donuts are safe even if she is feeling a bit petty. ) No strawberry donuts for you, then.

( said donuts thankfully take less time than ever to arrive, coming piping hot and brilliantly decorated just a few minutes later. maybe that's the benefit to coming in to the shop in the middle of the night. nobody else's order gets made before their own, so no waiting around. the cups of hot chocolate arrive soon after, towering spirals of whipped cream piled high, and kimberly doesn't hesitate to let her hands wrap around one cup, bringing it to her lips for a much -needed warm sip.

there may or may not be whipped cream abandoned on her nose afterwards. )

God, that's good.

I'll just kiss you after. All the taste. None of the fighting over the last bite.

[he retorts with a slight grin and a wink. a brief wait and he can finally tuck into the warm, coffee-dusted, caramel-filled concoction. a please sound slips through his lips as takes that first bite. it's only after the third that he looks over at kim sitting there with whipped cream stuck to her nose.

a hurried swipe of his finger and the offending whip is removed. his next words are spoken around the digit which he is judiciously cleaning.]

Must be some really good hot chocolate to make you sound that pleased.

It's about as good as you seem to think that donut is. ( said donut appears to be just as messy too, leaving smears of chocolate and caramel icing at the corners of his mouth that just beg to be taken care of. no need for a napkin, though; kimberly's mouth does the trick just as well, leaning in for a kiss that's surprisingly chaste even as her tongue darts out to swipe away the sugary remnants. ) Not bad, actually. Not as good as the strawberry, of course, but not awful.

( speaking of strawberry... there's two still on the plate, and kimberly's ready to dive in to one. please don't ask her to speak until she's finished at least half. )

My donut is delicious. Thank you very much. [he says with a smile as she leans in to kiss the last bits of donut from his lips. it takes everything in him not to deepen the kiss, though he certainly wants to.] Suit yourself on your opinions. Guess there will be more for me.

[he picks up his mug, watching carefully as she tucks into another one of her donuts. if there's a wink or two when she catches him staring, well, is she all that surprised?]

( is she surprised? no, not entirely, but the wink does earn a giggle around a mouthful of donut, one that continues as she does her best to swallow it down. as the first circle of strawberry glazed dessert disappears, she's left with just a few smears of icing on her fingertips, easily taken care of with a quick pull of her tongue along the mess. )

Mm, ( a bit exaggerated, maybe, but all in good fun. ) Whatcha thinkin' about, babe?

Hmm? [what was that that she'd said now? how long had he been staring exactly? and just how was it that she managed to be so damn attractive eating a pastry?]

Are you gonna share or what?

Nope.

( a wide grin around the word, lips popping the second syllable before taking in another piece of donut. this time around, it's torn off by nimble fingers; it's hopefully a little less messy this way. )

The strawberry's all mine, babe.

[from his vantage point it doesn't look any less messy. nope. not at all. not as she plops the piece of donut into her mouth, and basically dares him to try and refute her claim.]

Yeah? You sure you can stop me? [and with that he reaches for her plate, fingers in classic pincer shape aimed at grabbing with speed and precision.]

Pretty sure, ( echoed out as she swallows, a hand reaching out with ranger reflexes to grab at his wrist, tugging it aside before it can lay claim to the last piece lingering on her plate. )

You were going to steal my dessert. I'm pretty sure that's against the rules, Mr Reyes.

Is it really stealing if I promise to buy you another one?

[he shakes free of her grip and takes another sip of his hot chocolate.]

Maybe. ( but she's smiling all the same, even as she finishes off her own dessert to leave her plate bare. )

But I'm good on donuts, actually. You don't have to buy me another one.

( her own cup is empty, too, just the last bits of chocolate lingering on the edges. if they don't buy more, they might as well leave, lest the girl behind the counter think they plan on moving in. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT: A VERY NICE BALL.

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