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

b

[whosthemonsternow]

[It's not that South doesn't notice him at first, it's more she sees who it is and decides he's a non-threat, just one of the weirdos from the pool shit. She doesn't much attention to him yet as she wanders a little further from the building, giving an innocent enough glance around before fishing a hand up her dress, very ladylike in her fancy getup. She pops back up with a small notebook in her hand, scribbling something in the pages briefly before returning it back under the vibrant fabric.

Nothing to see here.

She finally acknowledges him, fighting the urge to glance around again as she waltzes closer, nodding a bit to his nailbat.]

I'd ask why lurking out here all on your lonesome when there's a party inside, but looks like you have a more fun party planed for the night.

[bravers]

[It's not like the last time he saw South she wasn't feminine, but he didn't exactly expect a dress like that on a woman like her. It's enough to make him blink, and its only when she starts talking that he realizes that... yeah. It's the woman from the pool. The one that'd got pissed that she couldn't out-muscle a SOLDIER.

...Someone that... yeah. He didn't expect to wear glitter at any point.
But. He tears his gaze away, looking to the building again.]

Nope.

[Had everyone forgotten about the robots that tried to kill them, or something? To him, after something like that, this is perfectly natural.]

...Taking notes?

[whosthemonsternow]

[To be fair, she didn't exactly get to pick her attire tonight. If she did, there'd be less glitter and more skin. Unfortunately, being a babysitter for the Mayor meant dealing with even more strict dress codes when at public functions, even after the babysitting duty is technically over.]

Maybe I'm writing down a number for later.

[She answers with an almost teasing tone, attention more on his little friend than what she's writing down, and not only to brush off any notepad use or it's purpose here. Of course she remembers the murderbots, and all the crazy shit going on, but even she can pretend to have some fun, maybe actually have a teeny bit while at it.

South eases up closer, a hand reaching in an attempt to prod said nailbat]

Maybe not planned, but there a pinata around here or something I should know about?

[bravers]

[She... looks... good? It's just surprising, really. Since he'd half-expected, if South even came to something like this (what she was fiddling with earlier makes him think she's got a purpose in being here at least.) for her to come in regular clothes.

But anyway. Being lightly teased isn't anything new to him. But he's terrible at dealing with it. That sort of thing requires being well-adjusted and he is. not. So, he darts his eyes away again.]

...Right.

[And at the prod.]

This kind of thing isn't my thing. [It's almost silent, that confession. Low, and very quiet.] Doesn't mean I can't be useful if any more impersonators, or anything worse, turns up. So I'm keeping watch.

[For Tifa, of course.]

[whosthemonsternow]

You can say that again. Did enough of this shit back home with fundraisers and stuffy old bastards in suits. This isn't my scene.

[She prefers clubs for any dancing shit, or bars, or probably literally anything else. Not getting done up by the Mayor's goons staff and paraded around like some fancy idiot with nothing better to do]

Yea, been waiting for something to happen. Can't have this many people, Mayor included, in one place and it be...entirely safe.

[South is careful what she says, both in case anyone is listening and because she doesn't know or trust the guy enough to share her actual thoughts. She doesn't entirely trust the Head, the Mayor, this event, any of it. She has her worries and suspicions and extreme paranoia. Fuck knows what can happen around here, to any of them. It's mildly a relief that he's at least trying to provide some defense, even if she has her doubts one guy with a bat can do much]

[bravers]

Sounds rough.

[And something he'd be uniquely unqualified for. That's why Tifa's handling this, after all. Even if he was the type to ever get dressed up as... weirdly as everyone else in attendance or attend a ceremony like this, how he is ...normally would make people think he was suspicious.

It's just better he passes.
Regardless.]

Mhm. And weapons aren't part of the dress code. Might as well sit out here to give everyone else a heads up if something happens.

[A glance to the building, again. And.]

Good luck. With the 'stuffy old bastards in suits'.

[whosthemonsternow]

Trust me, it was

[Having to play nice while getting shown off to potential donators? Having to hold her tongue while said donators asked pointless questions? Knowing how much was too much info to give but still giving enough to encourage funding donations? Dealing with the suits while already uncomfortable? Yea. It sucked hard, but it was worth it for the advanced tech they got to play with, couldn't get the awesome shit without the funds]

Could just be your own weapon. Ya know, fists are good if you can use them. But I guess not everyone can handle their own unarmed.

[She's not meaning to sound condescending, but she entirely means how cocky her tone is. Her confidence in herself and her fighting is unnecessarily inflated- she can hold her own and fight pretty fucking great, she's not top of her fancy military program for nothing, but she's not as invincible as she thinks]

It's...not so bad this time around in there. Less suits to impress for money, more awkward people trying to forget the bullshit going on around here. Not so easy with the decorations but...