oh, we dance in misery

[headandhand]

WHO: Open to all Dualizens!
WHAT: the Plague Memorial Masked Ball
WHERE: the Mayor's Mansion (central Dualis)
WHEN: the evening of November 16
WARNINGS: Visuals/discussion of disease and death in the setting. Anything else, please use appropriate warnings!

At 8 p.m. sharp, the lights inside and around the Mayor's Mansion turn up, and the doors are opened to the crowds that begin to trickle inside. All entrances are manned by Iterations, and all party-goers are scanned for both proper attire (formal and masked, mandatory) and weapons (absolutely forbidden) before being allowed entry.

Once inside, attendees are greeted to a spectacle of warmth and light and lavish decorations, all themed in white accented with gold and violet. Venture into the ballroom, and you'll see intricately carved ice sculptures in various representations of death, all laden with garlands of marigolds and violet chrysanthemums. At one end of the room, a rotating cast of musicians plays soft music in differing arrangements of strings and piano. Long tables at the other end of the ballroom are piled high with punch fountains and platters of delicious party foods, and a few bar stations serve beverages of the more adult variety to those of age.

Outside the main ballroom are seven smaller rooms, for more intimate conversations and quiet recovery from the main gala (or just skulking like a brooding weirdo, if that's your thing). Six of the rooms are decorated in monochrome blue, purple, green, orange, white, or violet, and the seventh room is pitch black with red accents.

Throughout the night, the mayor herself winds in and out of the crowds, shadowed by a pair of bodyguards. She is all smiles, greeting people with a friendly handshake and effusive words of thanks for attending the ball, but she never stays in one place long enough for a true conversation. This is a celebration of life and a remembrance of the dead, after all - not the time or place for talks of business or politics.

Enjoy yourselves tonight, everyone! And remember - death eventually comes for everyone.

Comments

South Dakota | OTA

[whosthemonsternow]

South isn't exactly planning to go to this ball event. If she wants to get a drink and hear music, there's plenty other places she can go where she doesn't have to dress up or even really be on her "best behavior" either. A ball at the Mayor's mansion? No thanks. Hard pass. Not happening.

Except there's the whole being one of the bodyguards for the Mayor things, and while she probably put up a big enough stink to get out of it, well... She's pretty well stuck having to attend at least for a bit. It's not so bad, really, she's been to formal shit in fancy clothes chatting to snobs before. Funding events and the such, getting trotted out so possible donors can see the soldiers they could be funding or whatever. Just a bunch of bullshit where she can't even wear something she wants to, has to play nice with snooty rich bastards, and is bored out of her mind.

So far, not much is different this time, either. She's stuck wearing a bunch of shit that's not really her style, she can move and easily bust a nose if she needs to, but she's not thrilled about any of it. And she's stuck trailing along with the Mayor, keeping an eye out for threats while eavesdropping for any useful information. Which, of course, she doesn't hear a word of, nothing worthwhile in any of the brief encounters. It's all meet, greet, move to the next fancily dressed dope.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to be glued to the Mayor for the whole ordeal. She wasn't told specifically she has to stay at the ball, but she figures it's pretty much implied she should, just in case shit goes down or someone tries something stupid. Her mild indifference about the Mayor has turned more to slight distrust after everything with the murderbots and such, so the instant someone else comes in to relieve her of duty, she's off in a flash.

She can be found mostly around the "adult drinks", or overfilling a plate with food, maybe even peeking inside or possibly hanging out in the quieter rooms. Occasionally, she's outside, getting a break from the nonsense inside. Hell, depending on who asks and how, she might even humor a dance with someone. She hasn't danced formally in years, but she's not really itching to get out there, either. More or less, South is roaming around a little bit of everywhere, keeping busy and somewhat avoiding any risk of getting too close to the Mayor and getting roped back into babysitting duty.

Re: South Dakota | OTA

[sirentologist]

This is decidedly not the sort of thing Tannis usually attends--in fact she'd rather not be here at all, except she'd been asked and now she's reluctantly here, wearing clothes she's never worn before and the simplest mask she could find--just barely enough to qualify as "mask" and she'd followed the rules exactly. So there.

Mostly she's sticking to the edges of the main room and trying not to have a breakdown over the sheer number of people in the room until she spots a familiar face. That's better than nothing, right? So after another deep breath to try and calm down (how are there so many people in the same place) she steps up (maintaining personal space, of course), and tries to pretend she is anywhere else.

"I'm not certain what this is supposed to accomplish, may I leave now?"

Drifter | Destiny

[be_notorious]

1) Enjoying The Show - Closed to Kyoko

Drifter's gotten pretty good at find places to stash himself away, both in life and here. He isn't really the dancing type. Now, the fact that there is a buffet out there? And he's not raiding it? That is killing him. But honestly he's not much in the mood to be caught in the same space as a whole lotta people. Especially all of 'em stuck in clothes that aren't exactly the best to fight in.

Now he did, if it became necessary, procure himself a tux with a mandarin style long coat, a bowler hat, and a plague mask because like fuck was he going in there without the full of his face covered. But right now he's just sitting there, staring down the scope of his rifle.

The clothes will be waiting there until he really wants a better look at. Until then? He's just gonna sit back and see what people do.

2) Putting On A Show - OTA

Drifter first notices the iterations as they move towards the building, and that's when he decides to break his guns down. He makes a quick change into his oh so stylish masked attire, makes his way down to the building and the few people that are lingering outside, and finds a decently high piece of architecture that he can put on a performance for.

"Excuse me! Ladies and gentleman and everything in between, I got a trick or two I can show off, if you take a notion to indulge me."

And then he performs one of his coin tricks, tossing it high, kicking it up with his heel and toe, spinning around to catch it in his hand.

He's starting to gather a little bit of attention, and from his perch he can see what's going on.

2. Putting on a Show

[whereishe]

Yuna slowed to a stop just outside the front doors as she watched Drifter's performance. She didn't know who was hiding behind the mask but the display was impressive. After a few seconds of staring she stepped out of the traveled path and over to the small gathering of masked faces.

She was wearing white with a long braid pulled over one shoulder. Her attire was white and lovely and yet Yuna lingered clapping when he spun and caught the coin.

"That's impressive. Are you not here for the ball?" Was he a guest or entertainment but if he was entertainment, why wasn't he inside?

Lorna Dane | The Gifted

[ferrokinetically]

A. "Mingling", Drinks, and Didi.

For the most part Lorna kept to herself. She's never really been the fancy party type, or the fancy anything type, but she's learned to blend in. Back home that meant dying her hair and dressing a part. Here it just meant dressing the part. It's not something she's thrilled to be doing, but it also doesn't feel like something she should just skip out on. Maybe something would happen. Or maybe there's a chance she could find something worthwhile in the Mayor's mansion. Or maybe she's just trying to cling to any hope that she can find her way out of this shit place and back to her family.

Regardless of the reason, she manages to find a dress and mask that work for her. Their main positive point happens to be that the dress has metal buttons and the mask is completely made out of metal. The line of work she's in back home left her with a constant need to feel like she's prepared to defend herself. Which means that despite dresses and formal events not being her thing, she's still walking around the room with an air of confidence. And only the slightest leanings of a resting bitch face. It's an accomplishment for her, okay?

At various points in the night she can be found in oddly invested in analyzing one particular death, grabbing another champagne and making a twisted little face as the bubbles tickle her nose, and pretending to listen to the musicians while actually listening in to other people's conversations. What she isn't doing however is starting up conversations with other people. Maybe she should have prepared a bit more to at least try to mingle.

B. Green Room is Best

Eventually, she gets tired of standing and listening. That's when she takes her leave of the main ballroom and tries to take a look around. What she's hoping to find is a room that leads to an office or a computer that she can try to hack. Instead she just finds the colored rooms. Of course there's a green one and, because she has to be properly predictable, she can't help herself from going in it. Did someone suggest they might be good for skulking like a brooding weirdo? That's good, because that's exactly what she's going to use it for. That and pouting slightly that she actually put on this ridiculous shit to come here only to be met with absolutely nothing of value.

Except a pretty cool green room. At least there's nobody else here so she can set her champagne glass down and take one of her black stilettos off. These things hurt like a real bitch. Might as well take advantage of a moment alone and away from people. Besides, who else was actually going to go exploring the small weird color rooms?

Green Room

[magneticfields]

As it turns out, there is at least one other brooding weirdo who is exploring the colored rooms. He's enjoying the ball as much as he ever enjoys anything, the gauzy haze of his improbable honeymoon with Charles still softening the edges of everything. Well. Mostly everything. Erik's edges are never exactly "soft". Just sheathed sometimes.

He comes across a remarkably pretty, if pouty, young woman in the green room. The slight crumpling of the hem of her skirts suggests that she is not currently wearing the shoes she arrived in. "Find anything good," he asks as he strolls in, hands in pockets. "Other than the pleasing aesthetic." He nods toward her, acknowledging the green in her hair.

Hank Anderson | Detroit: Become Human

[sociallychallenged]

1) Securing the Premesis - OTA

When he catches sight of a couple of familiar faces, ones he knows not from their little dormitory building but rather from a secret performance affair, Hank immediately has a wave of awkward paranoia. He occasionally checks under tables, around plants for disturbed soil, under the depictions of death.

He's spending a great deal of time looking for bombs or devices that aren't there, just so he's sure that things won't go further downhill for everyone. They're all going to be under a scrutinizing glare now. He doesn't want them to come searching for them with any more determination than they already have.

There's nothing to find, but for right now it's something that can hold his attention, and he wanders around commencing operation "discreetly check the back rooms".

2) Please Rescue Him - OTA

And when there is nothing there, there's just a fuckin' creepy-ass set-up of death imagery. You couldn't convince him that the Head doesn't at least have some sort of fucked-up sense of humor. He wonders how often he does this shit. Haha. Fucking look at the images of death. I'm gonna fuckin' kill you. Fuckin' bullshit.

Hank's a little grouchy. He's realized at this point that he's doomed to spending the evening alone, and that's making the bad, hateful parts of his personality scrape at the surface again. Because he bothered to fuckin' get dressed the fuck up and now he gets to play wallflower like a stupid-looking asshole. God, he even fucking did his hair. How fucking long has it been since he spent more than two fucking minutes making his hair look like a reasonable human being? He even managed to pull off that Rooster Cogburn era Jeff Bridges look.

But nope. He gets to stand here and look like a fuckin' prettied the fuck up horse's ass, fielding the occasional department pleasantry with a tight smile and occasionally a tight fist. At least he's pulling off 'stoic' in a dark blue dress uniform with gold-braided trim and a metallic mask.

He snags a drink off a bar station, listening to someone tell him all about 'these kids today' if Hank didn't already live through being the butt of that and will agree with him, searching for an escape. All he has to do is hang in there long enough for it to feel natural and then he'll leave.

2

[doesnotsparkle]

Michael shouldn't have come, by all rights hes probably on a watch list for the heart by now. He got canned from his job two days before like he predicted but he wasn't to upset. He had managed to sneak his samples out on slides it wasn't the fresh samples he would have liked but it worked. And now with an abundance of time why not fuck with the 1%.

Seeing his buddy darkling, he knew Hank's body build and hair anywhere, even if it was styled, stepping up from behind him he came to stand at his side and grinning, his suit was the usual black but with a red shirt and a red mask. His eyes glowing and his fangs on display. come at him Robo-bros. "Hank. How are you doing? You look miserable."

Yuna 🔮 Final Fantasy X-2

[whereishe]

Whistle;

She had come to the party dressed to blend with the crowd though Yuna never did blend very well. She was wearing white in a style that reminded her of the traditional garb of the temples and yet it was more comfortable than that. It was like a mix of her new life and her old one; perfectly balanced. Her mask was white as well, simple in its design but perfectly accenting the sweet curve of her cheeks. Her hair was flared as it always was, it was a little too short for her to do much with it but her braid had been released from its usual pink ribbon and now hung over her shoulder with silver twisting through the chestnut strands.

She was lovely, the party was elegant and stunning, but Yuna had a singular goal when she stepped through the door.

She was looking for someone.

Discretion was the better part of valor but in this case Yuna hoped that those around her might excuse the sudden interruption. She brought her fingers to her mouth and a loud clear whistle shouted from between her lips as the air evacuated her lungs.

There were probably better ways to walk into a party.

Exploring;

The decorations were interesting. The ambiance might have been alarming if the point of the masquerade hadn't been known before she'd walked inside. There was so much death in Spira and Yuna wasn't particularly comfortable celebrating it but everyone should be remembered.

By remembering someone, they became immortal.

She walked around the different rooms and listened to the bitter sweet music that floated through the halls. Each room was a little different and each color reflected across Yuna's white dress as if she was the final piece of that room. All but the black room. It felt as if nothing fit in there.

Yuna found another decorated skeleton, this one looking too real for her liking. Spira didn't have things like this. People didn't leave anything behind when the died... except for the fiends. Without thinking about it, Yuna did a simple prayer of sending, bowed her head to the statue, turned and returned to the main party.

From then on she could be found watching people dance, even dancing herself, speaking in each colored room but she never returned to that black room or the skeleton she'd blessed.

Wildcard;

[ooc: Yuna is happy to dance, drink, eat and enjoy all of the colored rooms. I will honestly go with any starter if there is something you want to do with my lovely High Summoner here. If you aren't sure then PM me or hit me up on plurk! mizuyoko. You can also run into her at any point in any one of these two posts.]

Exploration - Purple Room

[helpdesk_hero]

Sometimes what you need at a party like this is a little alone time. In David's case that alone time definitely took over him when he started exploring the colored rooms. Nothing he could hack into. Nothing he could gain new information from. Nothing that really would satisfy him that the mayor knew more than she had been letting on. That she was actually just another pawn of the Head. So, in the end, he had settled himself down and chosen to take some time to rest. Which meant enjoying a chair in a room that looked good with his white and black and silver motif, and he smiled when he watched the woman walk in. The white worked so well, catching all the hints of purple and turning her into a decoration in the flesh.

"You know," he speaks up as he lifts his glass to her, "if the mayor had any idea of how you would look in this room, I think she might have hired people to just stand in outfits like that to serve as living statues. Accents, if you will."

And spies, of course. People loyal to her and the Head. He was quite happy that wasn't the case.

Naminé 💙 Kingdom Hearts

[really_sketchy]

Arrival;

It was the most beautiful thing that Naminé had ever seen. The hall was decorated with lights and trimmed with gold and violet as if a burst of color had splashed in an insistent wave through the building. She wanted to capture all of her senses in a painting: the delectable scent of the food, the echoing sounds of the instruments and the hum of those trickling through the front door.

She didn't realize that she was standing in the middle of the hall and likely blocking the way. Everything was too overwhelming for her to see and experience more than the color that flooded her gaze.

The mask offered her some anonymity but it placed her in a sea of unmoving faces.

She'd never been to a party like this and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing. She wore a nice dress, orange, like those around her but it was less elegant than some. Naminé had liked the simple design and the soft blending of color at its hem but it wasn't as grand as many of the other dresses she saw. She had a few golden beads around her neck and wrist but it was very subdued compared to much of the party.

Dancing;

Naminé wanted to dance but she wasn't confident in her abilities. Dancing didn't seem difficult but she didn't have the coordination to follow without a few missteps and the last thing she wanted was to accidentally step on someone's feet. She'd decided to wear heels to the party and Naminé got the feeling that it wouldn't feel good for whoever her partner was.

So she ended up at the edge of the dance floor, longingly watching as the people move in lovely graceful circles.

Once again she had the urge to paint or somehow mark the scene but perhaps it was lovely because it was fleeting.

Everyone looked so elegant.

An Accident...

The party continued late into the night and Naminé was determined to enjoy the whole thing. She hoovered by the food table and even got herself something to drink. What she hadn't realized was that the drink she'd taken had alcohol in it. It wasn't enough to make her sick but having no alcohol tolerance meant that she felt a little dizzy before realizing that something was wrong.

She abandoned the drink on one of the side tables and made her way outside. She was breathing heavily and her body felt too warm to be sequestered in the crowded hall.

Naminé continued to move away until she found herself alone. The hum of the party filled her ears along with a distant ringing that echoed just at the edge of her awareness. "What was that?" She placed her fingers to her forehead before taking a seat at the foot of a tree.

She'd return to the party, once the world stopped spinning.

Dancing

[skyward_eyes]

Well if there was one thing Nida knew well, it was the look of someone who wished to be on the dance floor. Perhaps it came from the fact that he so loved the activity himself. So when he notices Namine, alone, staring at the dancers? Well, it would be rude of him to not approach her. Her very own uniform-clad prince, bowing as he offered his hand to her.

"Would you, miss, do me the great honor of a dance?"

He doesn't know she can't. But he's been told he's a very good teacher. Maybe that will help.

Nida | FF8

[skyward_eyes]

Dancing’s Not a Crime

There was nothing like a party to make someone, well, relax probably isn’t the right term for it, but Nida likes to pretend it is. So, parties for relaxation, even if he moves with a bit more control and purpose. He had, after all, had SeeD uniform, and a matching black mask with intricate gold patterns, prepared for himself for the night and the festivities. He does mostly avoid the ice sculptures and the mayor’s entourage for that matter, and wanders around until he finds the dance floor. 



The best part of any party is the dancing. And Nida smiles in spite of himself and moves to the nearest unpartnered person. Time to trot out a line that is hopefully just as effective as last time he went to a ball, if less accurate. 



“If I say it’s my birthday, would you dance with me to celebrate?”


Because Nida? He’s never been able to resist a good ball.




Morbid Curiosity

Of course dancing can only last for so long. In Nida’s case that meant that he really needed to consider the advantages to being in a place like this. Which, in this case, is poking around. Glass of bubbly apple juice in hand he moves carefully through the main ball room, quietly shadowing the mayor and doing everything in his power to not give that away. Which, of course, means occasionally breaking off to duck into the variety of side rooms. It’s not until he comes into the black and red room that he stops. Stops and shudders, wrapping his arms around himself. It’s… not a good shade of red for him, and from his rapidly accelerating breath, definitely causing the start of a panic attack.



Isn’t that a fun way to live his life? Especially with him standing in the doorway, temporarily blocking it.

Dancing's Not a Crime

[etherealsage]

It's a wonder that Rinoa hasn't found her way onto the dancefloor yet. It's probably because she's not exactly well-versed in dancing in extravagant ensembles and gowns. At least, if she is, she's somehow magically forgotten. Nida catches her by surprise with his question where she's been watching everyone else, trying to formulate just how one needs to move in a ballgown. After a moment to compose herself, her head tips as she looks him over.

...That uniform still looks so good. She recognises it right away, but not exactly the eyes behind the mask. At least wouldn't if he didn't speak.

"Is that a pick-up line?" She laughs, a bit incredulous by his invitation. But she offers him a hand all the same. "Because it's not necessary. Although I guess you should probably bear with me. I have no idea how to move in this thing."

David Alleyne - Marvel Comics

[helpdesk_hero]

For David getting ready for the ball is a simple affair. A brief shopping trip with Tidus before the event led to him showing up in a suit not unlike what he'd arrived in town with, white pants and coat, a crisp black shirt, but he adds an accent with a blood red tie and a mask that covered his face fully, a silvery owl with a crimson edged beak. Fitting, he'd thought, given owls being a symbol of death in some cultures.

After a bit of time in the main ball room he does find himself forced out of the room with a pressing need to recover. Strange how he'd never thought himself bad with a lot of people. Or perhaps it was just that he'd never been as paranoid in a large group as he was now. With that in mind he chose to settle himself down in the purple room, knowing that would set off well against his own color choices as he nursed his glass of white wine, carefully lifting his mask to sip at it without leaving his face uncovered long.

Re: David Alleyne - Marvel Comics

[whosthemonsternow]

It's not South's first trip into the purple room, she's slipped in a handful of times already. She doesn't stay long, just pops in while getting away from the tons of people, or to duck out of sight when the Mayor and her little herd roam too close. She's not looking to get roped back into babysitting duty just yet, there's too much food to eat first!

Which is what she's planning to do, a messily piled plate in her hand as she glances around on her way to a seat. She sees David as she scopes out the room, but she doesn't right off recognize him. While her mask doesn't exactly hide her identity whatsoever, it seems most people tried to use theirs to literally mask themselves. Which doesn't help with her own little knot of paranoia in her gut, her guard has been up since she first got to the event. She keeps it tucked down though, forces herself to be casual with her movements, easy with the way she takes in how many people are in the room and where they are in relation to herself and the exits. She doesn't want to let on that she's alert and paranoid, of course she's not, she's just eating and drinking, oblivious and content as she chows down.

Zack Fair | FF7

[legacy_blade]

Green and a Dash of Pink

It wasn't like Zack had been to a lot of parties before. ShinRa wasn't really that big on inviting any of the SOLDIERS except for the top level ones. Which meant that Zack had often had to sit out company affairs. Which was what made today so exciting. A ball? A party? Damn right he was in. And in meant pulling out all the stops. A dashing green suitwith a nice pink flower at the lapel so Aerith would have no problems finding him, and horned mask bedecked with more pink flowers made him visible in a crowd.

Of course one of his first moves is not for the dance floor. Honestly? Zack's never danced in his life. No, he's bound for the buffet. Because he's excited to see what sorts of snacks might be available for him. What? A guy's got to have some energy for an evening, right?


Socializing Up A Storm

Mingling is good, right? Very good. So when he's not snacking, Zack's on the move through the crowd, cheerfully approaching anyone who looks like they're having fun. Not the people who seem bored or like they'd rather be anywhere else. He grins and offers out his hand and nods to them.

"Isn't this party the absolute best? Oh, what's your mask supposed to be? Ever been to one of these before? Why'd you pick that color? Ever wonder why we're celebrating the people who died and remembering them, like, has anyone ever met anyone from then?"

And maybe some of those things are meant to be leading questions, hoping he might get some clues to bring back to the unspoken resistance his buddy Cloud was starting. Who knows, maybe he'll find someone who has been here a while. Chances are, though, he's not. Either way, he can learn something new.

socializing

[aguidingkey]

Even with her mask and dress, Aqua is easy enough to recognize just by virtue of her hair color alone. Still, when Zack starts asking questions as she passes by, she can't help but stop to talk to him.

"It's not a bad party," she admits slowly. "I'm not sure why we're celebrating death, though."

It doesn't seem wrong, exactly; she just doesn't really understand the point of a ball. Honoring victims of death? Sure. But not... a party.

"I don't know of anyone who has met anyone from back then. I think it was too long ago for anyone living here now."

Erik Lehnsherr | OTA

[magneticfields]

For those who have had occasion to frequent Rick's, what Erik is wearing may come as something of a surprise. Instead of his usual stubble, flannel shirt, and dungarees, he's cleaned up quite nicely. He does like dressing for these sorts of events, even if he isn't there on a mission to murder somebody. (It is more interesting when there's murder involved, though.) The theme of death seems to him to be a tastelessly uncouth sort of macabre. He's seen enough death that it holds little mystery, or aesthetic appeal.

His date for the night is Charles, obviously. But he does, as he has a tendency to do, wander off from time to time. He can be found:

A. Listening to music. He may even be persuaded to dance, if the band plays something with a decent rhythm.

B. Looking at the food, but eating very little of it. He tries to keep kosher, after all, and has no faith that the people running this thing have ever even heard of it. (Liquor is fine, though. Go figure.)

C. "Aimlessly" exploring whatever areas he can get to, and casually observing everything he can. These people are obviously up to something and he's not about to be taken off-guard.

D. (Closed to Charles). Well, the obvious. He brings him a drink. Scotch, neat. And yes, he's preening a bit. But if he can't peacock for Charles what is the point of dressing up at all? "Enjoying yourself, old friend?" He takes a seat, sideways so he can stretch his legs out, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his head on his hand. That soft, pleased sort of smile creeping across his face because he still can't quite believe they managed to work this all out.

( the D )

[axiomed]

[ charles isn't subtle with his look-over, smiling congenially as he does. he has no shame when it comes to taste and erik has always looked unfairly good in a suit. why else had charles kept the manor stocked with them?

he takes the scotch with a smile. ]

It is certainly better than the last party I attended, though that seems like an easy bar to reach.

Crazy Jane (Karen)

[fuckregularpeople]

The Big Party Scene//Connor and OTA

"Oh my God, this is insane!" is Karen's ecstatic reaction to every aspect of the ball: the chryselephantine main room, the ice sculptures glittering as guests swathed in vivid masked finery danced to the elegant string music, the magazine-perfect spread of beautiful food and drink, and the bright splashes of fragrant flowers. It's a gorgeous feast for the senses and she gets to wear white, silver, and a mask, like the princess every little girl dreams of becoming when she grows up. It couldn't be more perfect! Though, maybe if she had set this thing up she would have slightly fewer skeletons and gone light on the "remember you will die" theme. Memorial or not, Karen intends to enjoy herself and sample everything the party had to offer. Life was for the living.

And if she has to do that with an android chaperone following her around all night, she can live with that. At least it makes her look popular, right?


The Meet-Cute//Pietro (and Connor)

"All night" may have been an overstatement. Karen thought things had been going fine but that view was challenged partway through the night and, through circumstances she preferred not to dwell on, found herself locked in an uncomfortably small room with no one around. She hadn't been in there long, only a few minutes, but you wouldn't know it from the pounding of her opera-gloved fists against the door.

"Let me out of here! You can't do this to me, I didn't do anything wrong! Don't trip out on me and be a hater bitch!"

She crosses her arms, glaring at the door while huffing, and gives it a tiny kick with her shiny silver high heels. "Not fair," she pouts, feeling extremely sorry for herself. There was a big beautiful party out there and now she was stuck in here, through no fault of her own. "Is someone out there? Anyone?"

THIS CAN ONLY END WELL

[sirentologist]

How anyone can actually enjoy this nonsense... Granted, Tannis is definitely in the middle of a panic attack and trying to remember how to breathe, but really, how can anyone actually be elated to be here? Too many people crammed into too little space, spreading god know what germs around... She should have just stayed home. Why did sh ever let herself be talked into this?

"Insane, yes, I agree." Insane that this thing was even happening and that so many people were so excited to be here, definitely not in the way the woman meant, but she'd missed that tone entirely.

"What sort of nonsense is all of this? There's certainly no real reason for it."

Wanda Maximoff 💥 Marvel Cinematic Universe

[minus1twin]

Bodyguard

Wanda wanted to enjoy the party but for a great deal of the night she was working at the mayor's side as a bodyguard. It was a part time job for Wanda, a way for her to learn a little more about the inner workings of the city without causing a fuss. So far, she hadn't learned anything overly useful but she had a better feel for this world and its politics.

She truly hated politics and politicians but she found it easy to mask her feelings while working. She was a professional and this was a job. Wanda dressed the part, wearing a stunning slinky dress that clung to her curvy frame. The fabric was black around her neck, fading to a dark maroon as it approached the floor. There was a long slit along her thigh, showing off one lovely leg as she walked and a pair of strappy black heels. It wouldn't be ideal for fighting but Wanda was used to fighting in dresses and the slit allowed her to move without being needlessly encumbered.

She was comfortable in the attire, wearing a golden mask to keep her identity hidden while also adhering to the dress code. Red hair curled freely around her exposed shoulders, framed between her shoulder blades whenever she tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She wore a few rings, bracelets and necklaces; all her usual fare.

Wanda didn't look imposing as she moved through the party but there was something in the set of her shoulders that made her akin to a cat, biding its time to strike.

Wallflower

It was a lovely party.

It reminded Wanda of the last party that she'd attended. That event had been a New Years party for those trapped in the quiet village and it had involved walking through a dimensional door where her clothing had automatically changed into something that belonged in the Great Gatsby. That had been a lovely night too, similar to this one in many ways. There were a few people she missed, those she had been close too and even someone she was beginning to have feelings for. It was difficult to think that it had all happened over five years ago in her time. The memories felt fresh.

There were people at this party she cared for; her brother, her friends but the atmosphere had changed. There was a shadow hovering on the horizon of this jovial event.

It was hard to believe that anywhere was more foreboding than that lost village.

Wanda hoovered at the outskirts of the party. She watched the dancers with a glass of a pristine bubbly liquid in her hand that she occasionally sipped at. She was happy to watch; to see the smiling faces of those attending while keeping the anonymity of those around her. There was something tantalizing about the mystery and without meaning too, she found herself smiling.

A little part of her wanted to join in the frivolity more but for now she bloomed against the wall, out of the way.

Wildcard

[ooc: Wanda will be around but generally on the sidelines tonight. Feel free to run into her anywhere, with or without her working as a bodyguard or assessing the area. She will likely make a few arounds outside as well if you would like to run into her there. Someone should ask her to dance. If you would like something specific hit me up! I don't mind writing starters. PM or Plurk mizuyoko. This party reminds her of the New Years party in sixth iteration which is why she is not jumping right in, though it won't take much convincing to get her to dance or go take a look at any of the many colored rooms.]

Wallflower

[legacy_blade]

Now see, at a party like this, it was actively wrong for a lovely lady to not have someone to entertain her while she's all alone. Luckily there is someone heroic enough to step in and help, a little. Not like e would mind sparing a few minutes to go lean against the wall and smile at the woman from below his mask, with a careful tilt of his head.

He doesn't know it's Wanda, of course, which is probably why he goes straight for overly friendly. It's just his style.

"Either you've got some sorta magic that lets you keep people away from you, or people are crazy to be leaving a woman as pretty as you alone."

He's not even trying to flirt of course, which makes it all the more hilarious because someone could easily just tell him 'can you please just leave me alone?' Which would, of course, be the secret too.

Tidus | Final Fantasy X

[blitzcheer]

( Outfit: this with a yellow tie; mask is one that covers half of the face like example on the left, but matching his colour scheme. )

Decor

“I know this is a dance for the dead, but did they have to?”

Tidus would be referring to what else, but the choice of decor: and in particular, a rather ghoulish depiction of death similar to this one, lurching over to stare at those who approach it with an eyeless yet haunting look. Or that’s the creeping vibes Tidus is getting, shivering to himself.

“Ergh!”

Party Food/Drink

At least there’s refreshments, which Tidus decides to take a pick of. He wishes he could take some back, but his pockets are small, the food not the kind that’ll fare well getting squished, annnnd maybe those ominous things are the front door won’t like it. Well, it’s not his fault certain people decided not to come.

But why not have some small talk with the food? He won’t interrupt anyone deep into stuffing their faces, but will ask anyone else conversationally, “Hey, is this your first time at one of these?”

Or even, “Do you know if there's going to be a speech later?” Because it seems like something that would have a speech attached.

Colour Rooms

He doesn’t really care which colour room he ends up in (though the black room is, well, a little too black), but Tidus takes to the quieter spaces after a time, leaned against a wall for support and his head tipped back, sinking into his own silence, some place of inner comfort. While the rooms are more appropriate for chatting than the busier floors, he’s using them to fall into a silence himself: maybe giving the odd person a ghost of a smile, but otherwise keeping to himself, sometimes staring off. A change of mood from the social butterfly he was putting on around the ball. But hey, everyone gets tired.

But he has a bad habit of rubbing a hand into one of his arms, staring at them, watching his fingers flex in, out, in, out, his expression tight.

Wildcard

In general, Tidus can be found around in each section open to the public at some point, being spooked and doing his best to avoid the representations of death, willing to take dances if anyone asks or they somehow end up on the floor together (though be careful, his steps can get wonky), or fiddling now and then with his mask, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to take off or not but like he really wants to.

color rooms

[wishalone]

Kyoko thought about hitting the buffet line first, but honestly, she's still pissed off and has energy to burn, so she goes exploring next. She prowls through each room, scowling at the tacky decorations and glaring at anyone who gets too close or looks at her too long.

She's almost done with her last room when she spots something that holds her attention. A guy, maybe around her age, maybe a bit older than her, but that's not what made her notice. She happened to be looking over when he's staring at his hands. The way he moves them, the look on his face. It sure is... familiar, in that way that hits too close to home.

Impulsively, Kyoko crosses over towards the wall he's leaning against. There's a table nearby, and she drops herself into one of the chairs there. She leans it onto its back legs, fingers drumming against the tabletop restlessly. Then, after a moment, she finally speaks. "Everybody's pretty cheerful for a party about a bunch of people dying," she declares, and even though she's facing away from Tidus, her tone is bold enough to indicate she means that for him.

Patricia Tannis | OTA

[sirentologist]

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Technically, Tannis's clothing and mask qualify. Technically, she's following the rules, so there. She's regally uncomfortable and she looks like it, sticking to the edges of the main room and trying to remember to breathe. To think, she could be all alone designing an experiment, or doing an experiment, or something else for science. Something preferably involving no other people and not even the threat of other people. Sometimes she did miss living by herself on a dig site in the middle of nowhere.

She might be found clinging to a wall, or maybe talking to a fancy chair (they're all so...attractive). She may or may not have a drink, but if she does, she's just holding it, and not actually drinking it. She is certainly not going to muddle herself with alcohol when she might need to flee at any moment.


Peace and Quiet

Eventually, she finds her way into the white room and breathes a sigh of relief--it's so much quieter in here and yes, maybe it's not too much to look at, but after the terror of being in the main room around so many bodies, it's very, very welcome. She can actually relax somewhat in here, even if her clothing isn't exactly comfortable, and she'd still rather be at home. At least there's a place to recuperate.

Maybe she can just get away with staying in here forever. Or at least until everyone else leaves so she can get out without anyone else bothering her, getting into her personal space, god forbid breathing all over her...

No, Patricia, don't think about that now, this is supposed to be the place to calm down.

"How do people manage this?"

peace and quiet

[final7thheaven]

Tifa actually came to do a bit of networking, like the NAPS, but even she has to take some time away from the main room. The side rooms are kind of nice, quiet even if someone else is in there. The one she chooses to look into already has someone in it, though she doesn't notice until they speak up.

"I guess some people are just built for being social," she answers. "The rest of us need a break every so often."

Domino | OTA

[notverycinematic]

Lucky Lucky
Kind of seems like "why the fuck not" is going to end up being Dom's motto around here, and this time it's really no different than the weird waterpark shenanigans. She did really lucky, though, and found a gorgeous dress and a mask to match in no time flat. And hey, a party actually sounded really nice. Even if she had her doubts about the motivations behind it. Whatever, right? She'd get lucky. She always did.

It's gorgeous in here at least, and there's food and that's always a plus. At least they know how to throw a party, even it's suspicious. But hey, at least she had a reason to wear the dress. It was too pretty to waste.

She wanders through the main hall first, mostly just enjoying having so many people around her, stopping for a chat here and there, grabbing a drink (or two. Or three, maybe) and just having a good time in general. That's been a rarity lately. Well. Until the weird water park. Did that even count as fun, though?

"Hey, how's it going? Enjoying yourself?"


Pretty Pretty

Damn, even the rooms outside the party are nice. She's wandered through all of them, but gravitates back to the red and blue ones. They match her, and all. But it's nice to be out of the crowd too, and she can definitely appreciate the art and everything that went into the place. And the planning. And all of that shit she didn't have to do. Enjoying herself was hard enough work already.

Ha ha.

She's definitely got a drink this time, sipping at it slowly and taking her sweet time taking in the scenery. She's going to have a good time, dammit, even if she has to make it work. It wouldn't be the worst thing she's ever had to make work.

( lucky lucky )

[axiomed]

[ charles shrugs. he's dressed in a plain black suit and doesn't have a mask because . . . it seemed rather pointless to him and he never liked the idea of masks. ]

It's passable. The decor could use improvement.

charles xavier | x-men movies

[axiomed]

( a. oh death, won't you spare me another year? )

[ charles does enjoy a good party. or, more accurately, he did. that was a long time ago and the most, it stirs some old nostalgia in his bones. he doesn't wear anything fancy, just a suit and eyeing the decorations mildly. to whoever is close by, charles speaks up. ]

This has certainly has . . . left a statement.

[ and yet, it's still better than his last party. ]

( b. could you wait to call me another day? )

[ the party is nice, at the start. but as people fill in, something about the tenor of their thoughts has him massaging his forehead in pain. death, pain, disease, fatality . . . these sensations seem to slip under his radar, leaking through. he moves his hover chair to the corner, pressing his palm into his forehead in vain.

if someone is nearby, he won’t notice until they’re up close, his head snapping upward, apologetic. ]

Oh — My apologies. I didn’t see you there.

( c. wildcard )

[ got a different prompt you’d like to do? ping me on captainkink / pm this journal ]

b. could you wait to call me another day?

[sociallychallenged]

[Hank's in full dress uniform. Epaulets. Chest strap. broad belt. Braided trim. The works. His hair has actually seen some sort of restained styling and his dress shoes have a professional shine.]

[But god, he contradicts all that well-put-togetherness with a grumpy as fuck look.]

[He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't have to read minds to get a headache from the noise. The ice sculptures alone are creepy enough without the additional mental filth poor Charles is putting up with here. And his mind is especially rancid by the time he stops by the former dapper... schoolmarm? Nah that's women. What were fuckin' men at school called again? Headmasters, yeah. That was it.]

Looks like you're enjoying this thing as much as I fuckin' am.

[His date has been on 'restrain the demented woman' equipped with the powers that a teenage girl wished she had with fuckin' boy bands so he kind of ended up alone with only a pair of gifted lapis cufflinks to show for it.]

kyoko sakura | OTA

[wishalone]

Alright. Alright, fine, so Kyoko has finally given in and decided to come see what the party is all about. She's been watching it from afar with Drifter for the first while, but now he's off doing his own thing, and she... caved. But she still isn't willing to drop money on an outfit, especially last minute, which means she has no choice but to dip into her magic reserves and make herself one.

It comes out as a marriage of western and eastern designs, with a cat-shaped mask with a design that reminds her of fire and stained glass. It's loose and comfortable and permits a larger freedom of movement than a lot of the outfits Kyoko's observed from Drifter's sniper nest.

It's a simple matter to wait through the guards checking her over and slip into the crowd. But the downside of impulsively making up her mind about coming inside? She didn't consider she's going to be forced to face down the fact that this is a party celebrating death.

[ 01 | BALLROOM; how i wish those words were mine ]
It's the statues that get to her. She's not any kind of cultural or art connosieur, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they represent. Kyoko finds herself frozen in the middle of them all, jaw clenched and fingers curled tight into fists. A party celebrating death. A party... that celebrates --

It suddenly feels like there are too many people around her, and she hates it. She hates that so many people showed up. She hates their fancy clothes. She hates their hidden faces. She hates the mournful music. She wants to break the arms and legs of everyone in the orchestra.

Anger boils in her throat, a choking feeling. Her hands itch for the weight of her spear. It would be so easy to tear into these statues. They're only made out of ice. She wouldn't even need her spear. She could just call up fire and melt them down.

And that's when someone bumps into her. The crowd is big enough here it's easy for someone as short as she is to get overlooked. But with her mood the way it is, she doesn't just take the hint to get moving instead of standing around. She spins around, eyes blazing and teeth bared.

"Hey! Watch it!"

[ 02 | BUFFET; i'm praying for peace of mind ]
On the bright side, at least there's food.

And there's a lot of it. Kyoko doesn't even know what most of it is. But even if she wasn't in a bad mood, that wouldn't matter to her. She's not a picky eater. She'll eat anything put in front of her, which... at a buffet, is not necessarily a good thing.

Her plate is piled high enough it's in danger of toppling over. But that isn't stopping her from reaching right in front of you -- whoever you are, at whatever part of the buffet you're at -- trying to get at the food you're standing in front of. "Oi, move over."

Manners? What are manners?

[ 03 | WILDCARD; we all just want some spice from life and you know it ]
[hit me up at Malathyne or Malathyne#3688 for plotting, or toss a random starter, either one is good!]

01

[wickedprayers]

For someone who stood out as much as he did, Thane was pretty good at taking to the shadows when need be. He opted to remain out of sight for a good portion of the night, mostly listening, watching — it was difficult, even in masquerade, to keep his identity hidden. He is an alien, after all. At the end of the day he trusts his own skills for stealth and to take on whatever may come with whatever he has to work with, so instead of struggling to find something particularly concealing he went with a simple tux and mask. It felt strange to wear clothes designed for humans. Very rarely did he ever have to do so. Still, it's fitting enough that should the need arise he can move about freely.

Normally a crowd would pose no obstacle for Thane. He'd simply weave through like a winding stream without so much as brushing up against another person. However at some point he can feel that familiar tightness in his chest, causing a shortness of breath as he stops mid step to let out a cough into his closed fist. That's when he feels himself collide with someone.

"My apologies." He's quick to bow, taking the opportunity to clear his throat in the hopes of staving off his fit. "I'm afraid I wasn't paying nearly enough attention." He could indeed blame it on her height and the crowd, but she seems angry enough as is.

Tim Drake-Wayne | OTA

[mrsarcastic003]

[Arrival, General Partying]

Tim is generally of the opinion that "The Plague" is not a good theme for a costume party. First of all, even in a city that survived a plague... who does that? Second of all, it seems like basically an invitation for something to go wrong. He's annoyed at the prohibition against weapons, even if it makes sense, but he did decide to attend. It's not like he's that much less dangerous when he's unarmed anyway.

And--he arrives in style. The look he's chosen is basic black, but his mask is where he decided to get a little creative. He's chosen a plague doctor mask, in keeping with the theme of the party, and has finished the look with a jaunty hat. Creepy? Maybe. But so is this whole theme.

He divides his time between keeping an eye on the people he knows (he doesn't trust this thing), and trying to find ways to listen in to conversations among the people who are ostensibly in charge of this city--something he believes less and less as time goes on.

[Enjoying the party?]

Tim visits each of the monochrome rooms in turn, and he is not impressed. He still thinks that a party themed around the Masque of the Red Death is in pretty poor taste, considering the city's history. And also? The Plague came to that party. He is not interested in contracting the Plague again. No, thank you, unsubscribe to all further contact.

He shakes his head a little, clearly unamused. "Who thought this was a good idea?"

Enjoying the Party

[notverycinematic]

Dom's actually trying to enjoy herself, and her outfit seems basically designed to attract attention. She's here to have a good time, dammit. She can worry about the rest of the problems later. Like the leaving bit. Or the "why the fuck is she here" conundrum.

She's taking a break from the main hall in the blue room, drink in hand and people watching. It's kind of fun to see the outfits. And who turned up. Not that she really knows anybody but. It counts, okay?

"Dunno. Somebody sure did, though. I mean, it's about as 'all out' as you can get."

aqua | kh | ota

[aguidingkey]

Even with a mask on, Aqua is easy to recognize. Her blue hair stands out almost too well unless she wears a wig or a full-head mask and hat, which she hadn't wanted to do for this. Still, she tries to mingle, despite how awkward she feels wearing a full dress. Times like this she wishes she had Cinderella's poise and grace, but Aqua has never been good in a dress. At least her shoes aren't bad.

She can be found by the punch fountain watching it and getting a drink, by the food, or just walking around the dance floor. Eventually, she's had enough of the party and decides to head to one of the small rooms to take some time away, like she had at the young adult's club on Iteration world. Sometimes, a person just needs some time away from all the partying.

While she's out in the main ballroom, she's friendly enough and if someone asks her to dance, she might just say yes!

Small Rooms

[whosthemonsternow]

South isn't hiding, she just so happened to pop in one of the side rooms as the Mayor and crew came wandering by. Look, she did her stint with the babysitting tonight, she's not looking to hook another round of toddling after the Mayor if she can help it. Out of sight, out of mind? She hopes.

She slips just past the door and hangs around the wall, waiting and listening until the group passes by before she lets the tension out of her shoulders. Safe once more.

Glancing around the room, she spots an unfamiliar but...interesting person. The blue hair isn't what catches her attention right off, it's the dress, and she thought her dress was bad-! She's making her way over, drink thankfully still in hand, and... Yeah, she's not going to say anything yet, she's going to circle around the girl to get a look at the incredibly (in her opinion overly) formal attire.

cloud strife | final fantasy 7 | ota

[bravers]

a; [Yeah, he didn't do this kind of thing. Ever.

Never, in all of his life, he'd had to wear a suit, and honestly? He didn't think much of mayors. In his experience, they'd never controlled anything, not really. Domino was a piece of shit, for instance. Coates, another piece of shit. And whoever the Hell this woman was, she couldn't be much different. The place was ran by the Head. What purpose did someone like her even have?

It's stupid. Pointless, all of it.

But... he's not going to stay home tonight. Not when someone seemed to be far more optimistic about what the ball could bring than him. Tifa wasn't exactly starry-eyed and eager to spend a night drinking free wine and eating free food, but she'd seemed at least like she wanted to go- even if it was just to keep her ears open.

The least he could do would be to take her there and back. The streets are dangerous, and while Tifa's no pushover, she'd be viewed a walking target simply by the fact that she's wearing a long dress, heels, and... and she looks... nice while not in her usual clothes. ...Really nice, actually. Not that theres anything wrong with her normal clothes. Her normal clothes are nice too, and this dress, the way it exposes the muscles of her toned midriff and the length of her legs and... other things, it kind of reminds him of her normal clothes. But. Dressed up. Still her. Just... different.

But he's not thinking about that. He's not thinking about the fact that she's smelling nice too, as she's pressed against him on his bike as they hurtle through the bright lights of the city. Her arms are around his torso, locked on in a vice-like grip, long hair and what parts of her gathered dress that's slipped dancing behind them, but he knows she isn't scared.

Finally, they come to the place, and the tarmac of the city turns into a lush, expensive gravel. He half-pushes the bike with his feet, half-accelerates, before coming to a stop by a grandoise-looking fountain in the front courtyard. And he turns his head.]

Made it.

[And, as he takes the weight of himself, Tifa and the bike on a foot- leaning it to the side slightly to alow her to dismount.]

If anything happens, I'll be right here.

[With the nailbat which is presently strapped to the side of the bike, yep.]

b; [Well. This was pretty boring. He's kept to the shadows mostly- not calling out from his spot to any of the faces he recognized as they walk inside the building- not really thinking much of either of their getups either. He'd only really ventured off his bike to walk around the grounds in order to stretch his legs- but even then, he hadn't got that far.

There's iterations everywhere, and attempting to take a look around the building seemed impossible. The second he moves, whether it's to stretch, to yawn, to even recline back against his bike he hears their necks swish as each and every one of them outside the grounds turns to acknowledge him- so he's settled for dismounting and resting against a part of the garden's wall, nailbat resting against his lap.

On occasion, the music gets louder. The sound of conversation gets louder, and a door's opened. Someone walking inside or walking outside, he's pretty sure. And he turns his gaze to it, then back away when he sees it's not Tifa.

Though some people catch his attention. Say hello, anyone?]

[metamorphotic]

[nick's not really looking for cloud, just a quiet place to smoke a cigarette. as it turns out, she wanders into cloud's vicinity, and she remembers him from the warehouse meeting with the heart - not the most vocal, but definitely a skeptic, and really, she can't blame him or any of the others at all. the heart's made some serious missteps, she knows that, but she's not one of their leaders, and there's only so much she can do to influence their methods.

tonight, she's wearing that same plain black domino mask that the members of the heart wore at that meeting, along with a simple but stylish tuxedo. she comes to a stop near cloud (but not too close), sparks the lighter in her hand, and brings the flame to the end of her cigarette.]

You look like you're having fun. [she exhales a small cloud of smoke, angled away from cloud, then nods to acknowledge his nailbat.] Expecting trouble tonight?

THE HAND | reactions welcome, interference will be met with equal force

[headandhand]

Midway through the evening, there is an incident in the ballroom.

Four Iterations march through the crowd until they reach a tall man wearing a red tuxedo and matching domino. "Jason Todd," one says, as the other three surround him, "please come with us. You are wanted for questioning. Your cooperation is appreciated."

Despite having been through this before, Jason does not immediately cooperate, and he doesn't even have the excuse of being in shock this time. "This again?" He scoffs. "What is it now, someone's kitten got stuck up a tree and it's time to round up the usual suspects?"

The Iterations are not impressed; they are programmed to retrieve Jason tonight, and that is the only task on their central processing units. "This will be your only warning," another Iteration intones. "Do not resist. We are fully authorized to use force if you do not comply."

"You know what you can do with your compliance?" Jason retorts, but he doesn't have the opportunity to complete that thought, because one of the Iterations produces an electroshock attachment to its hand and shoves it against the back of Jason's neck. He screams in pain and convulses, collapsing to his knees. The musicians stop playing and the ballroom noise quiets as the crowd's attention is pulled toward the commotion.

"You metal mother- !" he yells, but he's cut off by another electric shock delivered to the center of his back, and his words become another incoherent scream of pain. A second Iteration steps in with a sedative syringe and shoves the needle into the side of Jason's neck, and the concoction knocks him out almost instantly. The Iterations grab hold of Jason's limp, now-unconscious body and carry him out through the front door, place him into a transport van marked with the Dualis PD logo, and drive off into the night.

The musicians pick up where they left off, and the ball continues.

[cisskabob]

Cissie is having a much better time than she even expected, given all of Tim's dire mutterings about the theme of the ball, and how easy it is to be suspicious of this city. It's still a beautiful night, getting to dress up in a fancy red ball gown, and dance with Jason, who looks damn good in a tuxedo.

At least, it was a great night. Until the Iterations appear, and surround Jason. She's shoved aside, and she's too surprised to try to stop Jason from mouthing off at them--too surprised, and too far away, once he's surrounded. "Jason..." His name is a warning, and a worry, but then he's being shocked and he's screaming and falling forward.

"Jason!" Now Cissie is shouting, and rushing forward; it's not that she thinks she can do anything, it's more that she's not thinking, except about the fact that Jason's being hurt, right in front of her, and she can't not try to help him. She only tries harder when he stops screaming and goes limp, panic rising. "No! Stop! He hasn't done anything, let him go!"

Loki Odinson | OTA | Prior to Jason's "removal"

[morethanatrickster]

It was decided that they would play along with what was expected of them as good, helpful citizens of a city recovering from a plague, and so it was that Loki decided to attend this most lavish of masked balls playing the part of a prince all too familiar with needing to be seen. Formal attire and proper form were ingrained in him from a young age, and so he opted for something more comfortable from his homeland, rather than a midgardian suit. His headpiece, while horned, is smaller than he would normally don, so as to not make too much of a scene to integrate more with the other attendees. A golden mask in integrated into the headpiece to fulfill requirements (and he finds it rather dashing), and a hunter green small cape completes the ensemble.

Helping himself to a glass of punch, he can be found idling about the refreshments and making light conversation with the other guests, ever the dutiful citizen by all appearances, but does eventually make his way to the main ballroom where his attention is grabbed, rather apprehensively if his expression is to be followed, but a rather imposing ice sculpture.

Otherwise, he'll mingle with the best of them, and can also be found exploring any of the various private rooms, though he seems to have a particular affection for the Green room and visits it more often than the others throughout the night.

(OOC: Feel free to run into Loki wherever, seriously! He's mingling like a proper mingler :D)

[sociallychallenged]

"Holy shit."

He's seen people with antlers on their mask, but this is the most impressive headgear so far. But then he just meanders over and claps his hand on his shoulder warmly. He's still wearing his dress uniform, a navy blue thing with braided gold trim, epaulets, chest strap and shined shoes and the whole nine yards. But he actually made an attempt to look decent. His hair's actually slicked back and restrained, his mask is matches his hair and shows off the blue in his eyes, he smells like nice cologne and not to overwhelming toxic proportions, and honestly while he's never gonna be the most handsome man in the room, he looks like someone who cared. And sometimes that's enough.

Not that it ended up doing him much good, goddamn it.

"Nice get-up." He's sure that Loki knows, but after that surprised reaction to his helmet, which he didn't mean as negative, he still should probably clarify.

Vincent Valentine | OTA

[chaosvessel]

01 - Arrival

This sort of affair is not something Vincent Valentine would normally attend. Far from it, really, but it afforded an opportune way in which he could glean a better understanding of Dualis as a whole, and thus he came. His fashion sense was uninspired but functional for the affair, though his hair, unrestrained without his usual headband, obscured much of his mask. His crimson eyes were even more obvious with the red of the mask, but he didn't seem concerned with that, either. He keeps to the outskirts of the arriving crowd or hovers near the refreshments, not approaching others but watching various conversations as they transpire.

02 - Ballroom
He does pause at the ice sculptures, gazing up apprehensively at one in particular, hands, bare of his golden claw as it was considered a weapon, clenched as he gazes upon the visage of Chaos, the reaper of corrupted souls and herald to Omega, the End of Worlds. Eventually he swallows and moves away from the sculptures, finding a place along the outskirts of the crowd to wallflower and people watch unless someone finds him, hoping to catch a glimpse or overhear a useful conversation at the gathering.

He gives the Iterations a wide berth, though, feeling naked without his weapons, having even been stripped of his materia. It only left him with one way to defend himself, after all, and that was a beast that was unruly and difficult to control when the transformation took control.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

03 - The Red Room
A true introvert at heart, eventually he has to escape the crowds of the main hall and he finds the most comfort in the red room, where he can be found quietly siting in contemplation on a chair. While he doesn't avoid any company that may approach, he doesn't invite it, either, his gaze focused somewhere in the middle distance. Soon, he and Cloud would be leaving the city, hopefully finding answers beyond the confines, but what they might be were certain to be bad.

A part of him didn't want to know, but it was a quiet voice and one he knew to ignore.

04 - Wildcard
(OOC: He'll be making rounds at the party, seeing if there's anything he can learn by observing, so if there's anything specific you'd like, go wild!)

02 - Ballroom

[whosthemonsternow]

Is South drunk? Nope, not even tipsy. Is she seemingly unsteady on her feet after 'one too many'? Definitely. Not only do people speak more openly with a 'drunk chick' wandering around, but any risk of someone looking to ambush her won't expect her to be alert and ready for a good fight, either. She might be dressed up an obscenely amount, and putting on a good act of nonchalant party girl who's indulging in too many drinks, but she's on guard and paranoid as hell.

To go with that 'good act', though, she puts on the jello-kneed almost swagger, and of course her balance is off, too. So it's entirely not her fault when she bumps a little too hard into someone she 'didn't see standing there', one hand reaching out to brace either on him or a nearby wall, the other pushing hair out of her face, some strands sticking to her mask.

"Whoops, think someone tripped me or something." Her words aren't slurred or anything, but her voice is more of a 'I'm not tipsy' tone that a tipsy to drunk person would use.

Seifer Almasy | OTA

[firacrux]

All things considered, for a ball in remembrance of mass death and plague, the decorations were strangely tasteful. Morbid, but tasteful. Initially Seifer hadn't really intended to come, it took Jason dragging him out to go buy something fancy and cool to convince him.

The opportunity to wear a modified SeeD uniform and make it look a hell of a lot better than Squall was a surefire way to get Seifer to cooperate. If only to irritate Squall, who really deserved it after that network post of his. The presumptuous ass. He'd still not been forgiven for that.

Of course now that he was there that left Seifer with the question of what the hell was he going to do with himself? Not like socializing was really his thing after all, and until he found Squall to go make a point of ignoring him he'd have to find some other way to entertain himself. Drinks and food is always a good place to start. As well as trying to keep an eye on his errant brother lest he get himself into trouble again too late. Maybe he'll even find someone to humor him with a dance. Of course with the suspicious nature of the city itself and ever growing paranoia spending the night keeping watch for anything interesting or noteworthy was a given. Unfortunately eavesdropping on the mayor was leaving much to be desired.

Those conversations were exactly as shallow and vapid as he'd have expected from a public figure. Politicians were great at that.

[etherealsage]

The thing about SeeD uniforms was that once you saw one, you had virtually seen them all. Living at Garden, or staying at Garden, had provided her with all the knowledge she needed on the garb, she was pretty certain. But the white threw her off and she wasn't sure she'd seen it before. The blond head of hair gave her a decently good indication as to who it could be, however.

So she bided her time, watched him from afar, until she stopped at his side in her own fancy ensemble. And only then, did she give voice to her words.

"Hello, whatcha doing?"

Because it was clearly the perfect way for a girl dressed like a princess to act. Not that Rinoa had ever been any typical form of a 'princess,' admittedly.

Mira Nero | OTA

[cadiastands]

Mira doesn't really want to be here, but at the same time? An elaborately decorated room full of skulls is the most homey Dualis has ever felt to her. She hasn't forgotten that it's not home, and her general distrust of everything that isn't Aleifr has not done wonders for her social skills...but she's making an effort, and consequently ending up somewhere in the neighborhood of "only slightly standoffish."

Besides, she's in the Imperial Guard. If she ever turns down a free drink, start composing the eulogy. She's carrying one of those free drinks when she has to take a sudden step back to avoid someone who seems to have had a few too many of same--and bumps into the person crossing behind her.

Terrible situational awareness, but she hides her chagrin at her minor failure, a feat made easier with half her face hidden as per instructions. Even in a place she'd rather burn to the ground than live in, Mira's a reflexive rule-follower, and has made no attempt to avoid the dress code, to the point where she's even left her chainsword at the dorms. It feels a little wrong to be at a fancy party without a sword, but she's out of uniform anyway, and if a fight breaks out, she'll just take a weapon off someone trying to use it on her.

"I beg your pardon," she says automatically before she's even fully turned to look at her victim, the translation rendering her speech in whatever the equivalent of a cultured English accent is to the listener. "Clumsy of me."

[Warhammer grimdarkness opt-out post here.]

[orren]

"No, no, it's alright." The man she'd collided with quickly answers. "It's on me, too, I should have been paying closer attention."

And his carelessness had nearly cost him his drink - a rich, red wine that he'd been lucky enough to avoid spilling on the simple, roughspun robes that he wore.

There's a little concern in the dark eyes visible through his own half-mask as he gives her a quick once-over to make sure he hadn't ruined her clothes.