dualislogs | oh, we dance in misery

oh, we dance in misery

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( 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

this one

Party Food/Drink

Colour Rooms

Wildcard

really

Edited 2019-11-19 23:56 (UTC)

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.

Edited 2019-11-22 12:56 (UTC)

Tidus hears Kyoko, but doesn’t heed her when she first comes into the room. There’s plenty of people advancing from the dance floor to the smaller rooms that it’s pointless to regard each one, but he does shift his gaze from his hands to the wall he’s leaned against, wrapping them to hold close to the wrists; pretends to himself that he’s just waiting for something, and he is. Something that might not happen, but other people thought there was more to this dance, so. Here he was.

But when there’s a voice, his chin does raise; eyes shifting towards a figure out of view, but he doesn’t bother to turn to regard her. A momentary shift, the side of his head kept tilted to the wall.

“Pretend, probably,” he answers on the mirthless huff of a laugh. “Not like anyone knows the dead anyway.”

As far as he knew. That’s what David said, and the city was pretty fine for suffering from a disease, so he believed it. Tidus’s eyes flicker towards the way in and out, to a decor that can’t be seen, but not forgotten. There's no reason to say anything, but he continues on that humourless point.

“Know what the last thing I’d want at a party?” The ‘a party if I was dead’ is implied. “Great big skeletons to really drive it home.”

Kyoko rests her chin on the heel of one hand as he begins to answer. By the end of it, she's nodding along, a sardonic grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She lifts her other hand and points in the air with a flick of her wrist, forefinger and thumb extended -- not at anything in particular, just to provide punctuation for his last sentence.

"Right, right? I was thinking the same thing." She catches his implication and offers another. Yeah. Me, too. "What, did they think everyone was gonna forget what it's for? How stupid do they think we are?"

Edited 2019-11-22 14:58 (UTC)

There's something infectious about the energy in her response; it spurs Tidus on, more than he'd really considered the set-up without anyone's input but his own.

"It's like—it's a joke." And it starts to make him mad, or have the emotion stir in his chest. He swings out his hand away from the wall, gesturing it as he speaks. "Even to the people from this world. No one wants to die. And they can do whatever they want to us whenever they want."

Which bothers him the most, never seems to stop clinging to his mind since he realised people just—up and disappear. Without a word. Without a choice.

More nodding from Kyoko. "Yeah, yeah. So what if they're trying to cure some disease or something. They didn't even ask. They're not even paying us. Sure, we're getting enough money to buy food, kind of, but that's just common courtesy, right? It's keeping us alive. It's not compensation."

If she sounds actually kinda ticked about that, it's because she is. But, really, more than that, it makes her suspicious. It's made her suspicious from the start, even before she met Drifter and he started telling her this and that. After everything -- after everything -- She can't just trust in this situation, or whatever put her in it. Compensation would show something closer to good will, to honesty, to an apology. Lack of it? Speaks way louder.

Edited 2019-11-22 15:37 (UTC)

“Why compensate?” A scoff. “What are we gonna do?”

The power reminds him of the higher-ups of the religion back in Spira, but Tidus’s thoughts don’t drift towards that line, or even to the idea of compensation. He couldn’t really complain about compensation when what they were giving him—even for their own means—was worth more than any monetary value they could offer. It wasn’t the same as for everyone else (he knew it wasn’t, not with Yuna there), but…

Tidus lifts his head from the wall, his shoulder sliding up as he pulls back, turns to actually face the one he’s conversing with. There’s not much to see other than the red of her clothes, that of her mask. That maybe she’s a little younger, but he got that by her voice.

He rests his new shoulder lightly on the wall, arms folded across his stomach.

"New too?"

By his tone, their shared complaints so far, he already knows the answer.

"Yup. Just got here this month." Kyoko glances back and notices he's turned towards her. She drops the chair onto all four legs (loudly, she didn't try slowing the descent at all, but she doesn't flinch) and turns, too, to sit in it sideways.

"It's not about what we're gonna do. It's about putting their money where their mouth is. Besides, isn't it supposed to be that we're helping just by being here or something?" She wishes she got something from the buffet. She wants to be munching on something. "They brought us here," they brought us back to life, "but I don't see any reason to trust them. Paying us would show they feel bad about it, or at least are grateful." For people whose lives have been interrupted, they aren't getting the whole 'alive when they shouldn't be' thing out of it. "They're expecting our help, but haven't explained what's in it for us. See the problem?"

"Sure." He says it with a shrug of his free shoulder, but he doesn't any less agree. "I want something more out of it too, but as far as I've heard, no one thinks they're willing to give anything anyone would ask. Or why would anyone still be here?"

That was, those who did want to leave. Those that could leave. Those that could leave and have anything to return to if they did.

Maybe it was asking to be let go was asking too much, but not really the problem Tidus sees. "So far," and he says it with some consideration to lower his voice, but he's also not putting that much work into, "I've heard about robots going after people, and people disappearing before the one year. This isn't a fair deal."

But his jaw tightens, a pause before he adds:

"Doesn't mean I don't want more out of it."

Doesn't mean he doesn't want to try, is what his tone suggests.

The news isn't really a shock to her. It's not something she thought about, so it's not specifically something she had doubts about. Of course it's not a fair deal. Of course they're being lied to. Of course the supposed deal is being reneged on. She's had the feeling that's just the kind of situation they're in.

But that last thing? That last thing earns a slow but wide -- and a little bit wicked -- grin.

"Now you're talkin'." She wants to ask if he's heard about the whole thing with the clones, but she remembers what Drifter's said. They're being watched, and they need to be careful about what they say.

So, instead, she holds a hand out, offering a shake. "I'm Kyoko." They can get each others' names and then hang out somewhere else later. See about having a real talk when they're not right under the officials' noses.

Should he be encouraging this? Something about setting an example, what was their age difference, shouldn't he be more careful? But he wasn't lying, and he likes the sense of solidarity, and let the future be what it will.

She also didn't sound like the type who'd be thinking any differently without this conversation. So Tidus takes the offered hand with the tug of a grin of his own, giving it a hearty shake out of habit.

"Tidus. If you ever need a hand, lemme know. Name's the same on that device they gave us."

Which probably wasn't trustworthy either, but good for some basic things. Tidus wasn't about the get that paranoid.

"And I can do some healing, if you're desperate. But really desperate," he stresses. He wouldn't have even thought to offer it usually, but hey, that's what other paranoid people do to you. It wasn't as if he had a sword to offer up in a fight.

It's nice it occurred to him, that bit about setting an example, but, yeah, no, stopping her would've been like trying to scruff a feral cat.

His comment about healing makes any other response she had fall right out of her head. Her surprise is visible in her eyes through her mask, her cool, tough facade suddenly cracking in half. But then she quickly tries to cover it back up, schooling her expression back to something more neutral-bordering-skeptical, complete with a raised eyebrow as if a) he could see it and b) it'd save face.

"Healing? What are you, going to school to be a doctor or something?"

It's not too surprising, that reaction, not once Tidus thinks about it. Considers where they are and the situation of...different worlds.

"Oh yeahh..." Muttered to himself, but a small chuckle follows it; something a little sheepish, but more for Kyoko's comment.

"Nothing like that. It's, uh, magic?" said, as if he understands that's not normal for everyone. "I'm not really trained though. Just something I picked up. Haven't really used it in a while, and I wasn't that great in the first place, so."

It certainly wasn't anything he was puffing his chest over. That comes after with a widening smile, a thumb pointed at himself.

"I played sports! Hard to tell, huh?"

Maybe under the suit it is, but probably not. It's a joke regardless.

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wishalone - 2019-11-27 04:12 (UTC) - Expand

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blitzcheer - 2019-11-27 04:25 (UTC) - Expand

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wishalone - 2019-12-08 22:23 (UTC) - Expand

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blitzcheer - 2019-12-10 14:20 (UTC) - Expand

Yes, it is about her dozenth time at one of the tables, getting yet another plate full of food. Don't mind it. She might be dressed all fancy, but food is food, she'll gobble up all she wants of it! She glances up when she hears him speak, like she hadn't noticed him there, shrugging slightly. She focuses on getting just a little more food on her plate before she turns to properly reply.

"Been to a few back home, UNSC and the Project had plenty of funding balls and bullshit like this. At least I don't have to go around chatting to stuffy dumbasses in suits and playing nice to try and get funds for our gear." She just had to do some bodyguard duty at the start and be on alert for any other threats, but she can also drink and eat her heart out, so, it's fair.

If her voice didn't give her away with some time to register it, Tidus—with the mask she wore—wouldn't have even recognised South under all that fashion. It was a incredibly different impression from the one she left with their talk at the pool park had given him.

"That sounds as bad as me saying you might be part of ship maintenance." For her, and the joke is thick on his voice, like yeah, the thought of her having to play nice with suits would be one of her personal hells. But also one she apparently had to suffer, in the past anyway.

"You're here 'cause you work for the Mayor, right?" He thinks he remembers that, somewhere in all their talk of space and ships twisting his brain.

Well, yea, a fancy Mayor-approved ~~mandated~~ dress and shit is a ton different than a bikini she picked herself. She'd prefer the bikini, or just about anything else. Her idea of 'formal' is usually something more of a cocktail dress, something short and fitted. This is all...too much.

"Seriously, I'd rather be ship maintenance than deal with those funding bullshit events." She puffs up a cheek slightly, eyebrows pulling together and down and making her mask shift slightly.

"Yep. Was babysitting earlier but got cut free for the night, unless or until they need me again." South gives another huff, giving a glance around for any sign of the Mayor or her current victims, "Been keeping my head down to try and avoid that, though."

"More people sound worry they're going to be the ones to pull something than the rest of us."

Or maybe one person was. But given that one had been the guy Tidus had decided to ask more about the murderbots South brought up, and the general sense of paranoia Tidus had been met with at the pool park by individuals, he'd be willing to spread the concern over to a few more heads to an organised party like this with robots at the door.

"Don't blame them." He's picking at the choice of food, just deciding on whatever looks interesting, what's probably not secretly incredibly spicy. "They really picked the worst mood for remembering the dead."

South would agree with him. She's unsure who to trust, who are the 'good guys', if there even are any so called good guys around this place. She would share her own mistrust of The Head, the Mayor, this whole ordeal of a party. She would confide in him that she, too, is leery of a ball about death, when shit is going crazy in the city. They've basically gathered a bunch of fancy dressed fish in a bucket of death here, ready for the shooting.

However. Even the handful of people she somewhat, kind of, partially trusts are kept at a distance. She doesn't even know this guy or, if she's honest, recall his name. Plus, out in the open, where anyone or anything could hear them? Definitely not the place to start having loose lips.

"Hey, the party's safe." She says, betraying her own thoughts and worries just in case anyone is listening, a faint and slight ping of guilt knotting in her stomach as she continues, "You...can trust the Mayor. The theme is...fucking weird, really, but shit's fine around here safety-wise."

She looks at him rather than the food, considering him a long moment, part of her wanting to keep her own skin safe and not let on any wavering doubts about the Mayor or anything, another part not wanting some kid (yes, he's still 'kid') getting fucked up because she insisted he trust someone she doesn't.

Tidus shrugs, a sort of half-thing between shoulder and the tip of his head. He knew not to get too into it, far from saying anything too audibly when remarking on it. The party was loud and required louder voices, but here it was decent enough to say a small thing and have it be lost.

And most of all, he didn't have any arguments to make against her reassurance. Everyone else made him wary, expect something more. But he looks up from some small sausage thing he's picked up and at the woman masked, not really capable of reading any expression even if there was one.

"Hey, sure. You're on duty, right?" Tidus remarks, a light joke. He then cocks his head, sighs; a sound lost to the piano and strings. "It's fine, I just...wasn't expecting the decorations. It's making me a downer."

And he chides himself some in saying that, like the last thing anyone should be is a downer at a party.

"I'm supposed to be having a good time with someone."

If it helps any, South's doing her best to hold back any expressions, though her eyes do squint just slightly in thought. It's itching under her skin, running currents through her blood of guilt. She's staring entirely too long, food forgotten for the moment as her internal tug-of-war wages.

When he speaks up again, though, she blinks back to focus, rolling her eyes and resuming her plate-stacking business, "I mean, technically I'm supposed to be ready for guard duty if they need me. But, like, I can totally guard while drunk. If I can do drop missions drunk, I can do this just fine."

Not that she's been drinking as much as it seems, with slipping in virgin drinks often, but still.

She flicks something off her finger in his direction, nothing that looks like it'll stain, but it's a bit of food nonetheless, "Don't be a downer, it's a weird party but it's a party. I'd suggest getting a drink or two, but, after you tried to die last time, not sure it's a good idea."

There's a short pause as she looks back at him, cocking her head slightly, "Aw, you got a date and they're not around? You didn't get ditched, did you?"

To be fair, everybody's expressions look the same when you wear masks. Except around the mouth, where maybe Tidus's own pulled into what should've been a ridiculous smile at this woman's apparent drunk escapades, but also so not wanting to comment on that; so it exists as a strained line of the lips, Tidus turning away so not to bring it any attention. Pretending to eye the food until that flick of something distracted him with a "—hey!"

He wipes at his jacket regardless of what it was, then catches himself between a scoff and choke certain unnecessary reminders. His shoulders raise more adamantly, chin lifting with youthful pride. His gloomy mood being brushed aside.

"I'm getting food for both of us," he answers defensively, but far from being truly offended. "I offered. We were dancing." But Tidus's voice loses some of that put-on heat when the subject matter seems to soften him, showing more of his youth. "I don't need to cling to her all the time. And...we're going to dance some more later. So."

Was there any reason to mention the later dance? No. Was it the butterflies that did it? Yes.

She is entirely too amused by his reaction to the flicked food, her small grin widening more at how he suddenly holds himself. He's like a little pup who successfully brought the ball back during fetch, all full of pride and shit, look at him. It's almost enduring, maybe even sweet.

South listens to his reply, catching the way his voice changes a bit and he starts to look more...apprehensive? Uncertain? She's not sure what to call it, but in her opinion, he looks absolutely concerned with that last bit. But what's she know? Enough, apparently, because she's going off on that assumption.

"So, you looking all skittish now cause you can't dance that well, or cause you're all smitten over this girl?" She pries a bit, a slightly teasing and somewhat playful as she asks.

His jaw evidently tightens if you look close enough (looks like sulking, if you look at all), locked like he might not answer her at all.

Except: "I nearly stepped on her feet twice ...and did once," he finally admits, doing his twitch of cocking his head (would rub it, if his hands weren't full). But he picks himself back up, head as well. "But it doesn't matter. We're having fun. I mean, when we're together, I am." Not when he's over here letting his mind wander with his gaze towards the looming representations of one's mortality all around.

"It's just hard to concentrate on dancing 'cause, well..." A pause. "I am smitten." To use her word, and to use it confidently. He won't be embarrassed, no matter what the pinch of heat to his face might say. "We're from the same world. She's not just anybody."

Her big, cheesy grin settles down into a more sort of, almost fond smile. Aw. Poor dumb boy is all a fluster! And it's someone from his home, too? Makes a better picture, no wonder he's all worked up.

Alright, don't tease him, play nice, don't tease-

"Aw, look at you, head over heels!" She can't help herself, even lifting her free hand in an attempt to try pinching his burning cheek just below his mask.

But she does shape up after a second and leaves the teasing at only that much, giving him a look of consideration before she shrugs. Whatever, it's fine, she'll let out a teeny detail of her personal life here.

"Okay, listen. Dancing's easy as hell, my parents had us taking lessons probably as soon as we could first walk. Don't think on it too hard. Which, yeah, not easy if you're all fucked up on emotions, but you just-" She inhales deeply for a second as she thinks, separating how she dances with North compared to someone not related to decide the best...advice? What is she doing, giving this guy romance advice? Maybe she has had too many drinks after all... "You just let your body move with her's. Don't brain it up, it's not logic you're trying to use here, kid. Use your heart, ya know? Just. Feel it, don't think it."

God. It's cheesy. It's dumb. It's dopey as hell. But, it's true, in her experiences at least. And there goes her hand again, a loose fist reaching out to try giving his shoulder a light, teasing hit. "Besides, even with a couple busted toes, she's probably having as much fun as you are."

Edited (i can manage simple basic codes honest ) 2019-11-25 21:00 (UTC)

South can manage to get some skin before Tidus thinks to pull away, a helpless “c’mon!” interrupted by him nearly losing the plate of food in hand. But the colour in his face definitely increases, even under the half-face blue mask that covers most of his cheeks, his upper face. He’s telling himself he regrets saying anything, but he’s not really that ashamed, knows he should’ve expected a reaction like that. Rubs anyway at the side of his face, like it might do more to remove the shade he suspects is there than just knock uncomfortably at his warming mask.

But then she continues, in a way Tidus wasn’t expecting, or didn’t even think he’d hear. And listening, the shape of his mouth transforms from the small frown she’d turned it into, into a smile—into something wider, finally showing teeth for a grin when she gives him the friendly knock, and Tidus lets her.

“Wow. Didn’t take you for a romantic type!” The teasing drips off his voice, fun and delightful, and probably inviting trouble when he continues cheekily, “Hmmmm, so you're talking from more experience than just dancing lessons as a kid. Right?”

She hit the mark exactly anyway, what his problem was: fucked up on emotions was definitely the problem. If not also apparently the solution, from what she was describing.

oh, we dance in misery

Tidus | Final Fantasy X

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