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

[ At some point he does realize that he's forgotten to breathe. If she was worried about her heart hammering away then she wouldn't have to be too concerned. She has to hear his. Either that or the two of them have canceled each other out.

His whole body gets warmer and he squeezes her closer with his arm looped around her. Stiff fingers from his fake hand pressing into her lower back. ]

I do. Very much so.

[ His voice a whisper. ]

You'd like that?

[She knows part of their disconnect is that he feels she's not getting a fair trade. That he's taking. He's not, not in her eyes, but she hopes this helps. She'll be selfish for his sake.

No better time than after a night of dressing up and going out.

And maybe she's finally at the point where she simply wants to feel something more.]

I want you to touch me. [Her, wanting him.]

[ She's not wrong. It's part of what he was worried about. Well mostly. He was scared he was taking from a vulnerable woman. Upset. Trying desperately to repair their friendship. He didn't want her to just keep giving to him.

His lets out a sound and seems to melt against her. A puff of hot breath fans out over her neck. He swallows hard and then nods. ]

Gods, I want that.

[ Part of him terrified she's going to retract. ]

[What she doesn't mention is that she's hoping to touch him, too. That's easier than letting him pleasure her and probably much for the same reason: she doesn't want to take from him when she's already hurt him. She's given this some thought over the night. Before the night, really.]

It's yours.

[Not her, but the promise of the act. She lets go of his hand to wrap both arms around him, hugging him. Still swaying a little to imaginary music.]

[ The phrasing is enough. He catches on. He doesn't think too much about it though. It won't devastate him, but if he thinks too hard he'll get inside his own head about it. ]

Absolutely perfect.

[ He lets out a pleased him as his other arm comes around her. At this point they're practically stuck to one another as they sway to music he starts to hum once more. ]

[Maybe not it's intended purpose, but the humming soothes her racing heart. As her head settles on his shoulder, she lets out a sigh of relief. She's trying. This is her trying.]

You can carry a tune, too. It's nice.

[ It'll all come down to whether it happens. Because it could very well change at the last moment. Her choice really, but he cannot deny that it wouldn't hurt. But he did promise he'd wait forever for her. ]

Not truly. I can hum. Whistle.

[ He's not been one to do this often, but why not? He sings softly into her ear. An old sea shanty. Soft and slow, but sweet. ]

Filthy liar.

[Maybe the worst she's called him, but the words are soft, head resting against his. One of her hands move up and down his back. He's a lovely voice. This is a moment she won't forget.]

[ Strangely enough singing isn't something he automatically thinks to do. This is good though. Killian likes the soft gestures from her and the warm comfortable weight of her in his arms. He wants to melt into the ground with her. ]

True. I am filthy. And a liar.

[ No dirty tone. He's simply making a joke this time.

But he starts singing again while he strokes her back as well. ]

You don't often lie to me. [Or at least not that she can tell. And with that face of his, that heart on his sleeve, she thinks she might be able to if he did.

It's her that presses a kiss to skin, right at his jaw. This is comfortable, sweet. She's never seen this part of him.]

[ She's right. He doesn't lie to her. He cares about her too much to lie to her. He loves her. Lying to her would just hurt them. He used to lie quite a bit. But he also once dated a woman who could tell when you lied. It made lying difficult. He just stopped.

A shiver runs down his spine at the kiss. He smiles to himself. ]

That was nice, love.

[If that's the case, she'll give him another, just as gentle. If she thinks about it too much it's overwhelming: being in his jacket, in his arms, pressed so close. Having this moment with him. It's the wrong man but she'd be lying herself if she said it didn't bring her some peace.]

As was your singing.

[ A soft humming response. When she does touch him like this or kiss him so gently it makes him vibrate practically. His skin lights up and he can hardly think straight. He doesn't give this a voice though. Not out loud. ]

I fear you're biased. [ He smiles. ] Or drunk enough to like it more than you should. But your kisses are exquisite.

I'm not drunk. [She refuses to drink too much while with him. If she does anything with him, she doesn't want him thinking it's because of the drink, for better or for worse. Everything must be her.

But he did earn himself another kiss. To his cheek, now, arms giving him a squeeze.]

Well, that's lovely to know.

[ Out comes another pleased sound. He loves this. Being so close. He's not dumb. He's not falling into a belief that this is everything she's though of without hesitation. But it's damn nice. ]

Carry on. I'm growing fond of this.

[She has no problem having a little affair with his jaw. It's a nice jaw, and she slowly kisses her way along it, up to his ear.]

We're never going to get out of this maze.

[ Another heavy shiver. Killian practically purrs under her. Smiling to himself. ]

Do you want to go somewhere?

[ He's not really the fearsome Dark One anymore right now. ]

No. [Another kiss.] And yes.

[Typical Claire. She's content where she is, as content as she can be, but she wouldn't mind being elsewhere, either.]

Where would you like to be?

[ The chill in the air is wonderful. Being this close to her while she's letting her affection run wild is brilliant. His muscles have gone taut and he just wants her to keep going. ]

With you. [So, the place doesn't really matter. Confusing and conflicting as it can be, she's most at ease with him.] Tonight's been this good because of you.

[ They hadn't spent the entire evening together. He knows they talked to others. He wasn't going to bring up that it couldn't have entirely been him. But he appreciates the compliment. It's sweet. ]

Then we'll stay here.

[ His hand holds her hip. ]

You can stay with me as long as you like, Claire.

[A small smile at that, her nose brushing against his cheek before she lifts her head to look at him.]

I can't ever recall you wanting me to do anything but.

[ She's right. He does tend to be a bit of a sucker when it comes to her. He likes having her by his side. He's a very lonely pirate even on his very good days. Having her close at hand brings him great comfort. ]

Are you poking fun at me for liking you around me?

No. I'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of me yet. [She is poking fun, really. It's evident in the way she smiles at him.]

By my shaky, questionable math, we've known one another for at least a few years. Even if it's been broken up in places. So, I've at least known you for a couple, now.

How could I ever get tired of you? A couple of years? Couple of months? Couple of weeks? I'd never get tired of you.

[ His hand lifts from her hip to cup the side of her face. His thumb strokes her cheek as he smiles. ]

Never would I tire of the sight of you. The sound of your face. The feel of your skin.

[ He swallows hard and smiles sheepishly. ]

Was that too much for you to hear?

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