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

[blitzcheer]

He huffs, a sound close to a laugh.

"Alright, sure, I'll give you the world," Tidus submits. "I wouldn't put it past some of the guys I met. But the kind of dances I could have gone to? You weren't there. Guys like you didn't exist."

And how much of that does he want to explain? He doubts Nida will believe him, and there's some safety in that, but that doesn't make it comfortable. His mouth pulls to a side.

"You could have just been a guy who really liked to dance there."

He doesn't try to sell it as anything other than how it sounds: a fantasy.

[skyward_eyes]

Guys like him didn't exist. Nida bites his lip and tries not to laugh.

"Do you mean mercenaries, or do you mean gay men? Because I assure you, the latter existed."

And he's a guy that really likes to dance here as well. But the fantasy is a nice one to let himself hold for a moment. To be in a world where he doesn't have the weight of who he is now on his shoulders. An impossibility, but a nice dream.

[blitzcheer]

How did Nida get that from— It doesn't matter. It catches Tidus off-guard when he wants to do more than just sputter a laugh, knocks him off his rhythm, feet bumping into one another—side by side than one on top of another—before he can recover. He does thankfully, leaving it to only be a small blunder, one they can pick back up from easily enough.

But when there's a chance: "That was your fault," he's quick to blame, but not without cheer. Okay, maybe it was his fault too, but still. It's hard not to smile. There's a risk his face will hurt by the end of the night. "Yeah, gay guys did exist. And they would've loved to be dancing with a sports star too."

And doing other things too, but he wasn't going to actively encourage Nida.

[skyward_eyes]

"Was it now?" Nida asks, smiling to himself. Sounded like the guy was trying to erase men like him. And no doubt, he'd had the attention of men like Nida before. But he's got a good smile.

No wonder he's taken.

"Right, you're supposed to be famous. I don't know. You don't seem that much of a star. Shouldn't a sports player be more nimble on his feet?"

[blitzcheer]

“Oh, what, I’ve got to be the best at everything?” Tidus jokes back, his faux unimpressed look maybe coming through over the mask. It can be heard, anyway.

"I'm doing fine for my first fancy dance. And my sports involves swimming. That's a different kind of leg work."

[skyward_eyes]

"Perhaps you should be. Otherwise it doesn't go so well with your pretty face."

Oh yes, he's still enjoying the feigned flirting. If he doesn't do that, if he doesn't get reactions, how will other men around here know he enjoyed the company of men? Duh.

"Still, that gets you a good ass, that swimming."

[blitzcheer]

His lips tug askew, and fortunately this time, Tidus doesn't lose his feet to Nida's wonderful commentary.

"So how long has it been? Because it sounds like it's been a while." That, or dancing just got the guy in the mood. He sure wasn't being like this when Tidus was half-dressed at the pool park. "You sure you don't want to be dancing with a guy who'll let you know more about his ass?"

[skyward_eyes]

"How long has it been since what, my friend? Since I danced?"

Don't ask the other question. Don't ask how long since he got laid. Because he might get a bit tetchy. Life's been complicated here. They're being used by a super computer, remember?

[blitzcheer]

"Suure," Tidus drawls, not believing for a second Nida didn't catch his meaning. Was this a lead into something? Or just Nida trying to trip him into implying an interest that wasn't there?

"Since the last time you danced." But he'll go with that if he has to. "A private dance. The kind not just for the dance floor."

[skyward_eyes]

Oh come on, man, that's just rude. Nida's expression darkens and, as a bit of punishment, he spins Tidus out away from him, intending to snap him back a bit hard.

"I was working on teaching someone a samba," he answers, his voice firmly stating that he means the actual dance. "He disappeared."

[blitzcheer]

Tidus doesn't have time to properly process the look behind the mask—he's thrown, yanked, and no part of him knows how to respond to any of it. The hand that had been on Nida's shoulder lands somewhere under it on his chest, and heat flairs in Tidus like competition.

But then Nida responds so coolly, that it extinguishes it as a flame between fingers. He takes a quiet breath, not sure if to continue dancing or to fix his hand. Nida can decide that.

"Sorry."

He means it.

[skyward_eyes]

Sorry isn't a strong enough word. As for the hand, Nida doesn't even really notice. Okay, that's not true. He totally notices. But he doesn't care.

"Yeah, well, losing a dance partner doesn't matter. It's just a thing that happens."

He pretends like it means nothing.

[blitzcheer]

The placement of his hand is inconsequential, doesn’t mean anything other than somewhere to land after the spin. But as Nida speaks, it does go over his shoulder to rest flat across his back, their hands laced for the dance given a squeeze. Tidus dips his head in a little for privacy.

“It does matter. It’ll always matter.” His voice is warm, low, the hand on Nida's back firm. “They’ll always be special. But it's okay,” he adds, “to have other dance partners too. It doesn't make you and them anything less.”

If only his mother had learned that. But maybe Nida did—and then someone here had to open his mouth.

[skyward_eyes]

"You don't know what you're talking about," Nida snarls, dropping Tidus's hand. Yeah. No. He's done with this dance. He twists out of the hand at his back and then moves to bow. An end to the dance, given with a dark look in his eyes.

After all, Tidus is right. Nida's whole goal was to distract himself in that way. But he hadn't wanted to HEAR someone say it.