headandhand: (mayor marcelina)
the head | the hand ([personal profile] headandhand) wrote in [community profile] dualislogs2019-11-16 05:12 pm

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.
cisskabob: (Game Face)

[personal profile] cisskabob 2019-12-03 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Cissie wants to punch the stupid Iteration in its stupid metal face, but Tim has her punching arm in his grip, and she's not completely irrational--just nearly. She shoots a quick look over her shoulder at Tim, just long enough to catch the set of his jaw and the dark look in his eyes. It's enough to stop her from tearing herself free from his grip or trying to fight him off. She knows that look, and what it means. Tim isn't just letting this happen. He's probably going to do something incredibly foolish himself, later.

That's a worry for another moment. She turns back to the Iteration and squares her shoulders. She doesn't move forward again, as much as she wants to. "Where are you taking him?" she demands, instead. "Who do we talk to?"

She can't say she expects answers, but that's not going to stop her from asking.