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

[magneticfields]

Erik is superior. Homo superior, if you ask him. A different species to man. And the fate of humanity in general is not something he concerns himself with, unless it is directly impacting the fate of mutantkind. It's not a great habit when he's trying to work with humans in order to escape from this place.

His brow furrows deeper when Hank recognizes the young man. "What did he do?" There isn't always a reason. He knows this. But he's still hoping that there's some kind of identifiable pattern of oppression at this point. Something predictable so they can make informed decisions about what path to take later.

[sociallychallenged]

"He made them mad. Fuck... They've had a hard on for dissenters recently."

Hank rubs his mouth, wrinkling up his nose. There are words hiding behind that, a whole ramble, a desire to share how seriously the Heart fucked up. This wouldn't be happening if they had been honest with them. Their fucking performance, that effort to terrify them into taking them seriously as an emotional ploy to control their loyalty, now has had the added shit of scaring their malevolent dictator.

And, as predicted, they're hunting for it in all places.

"Hey, look. I think I'm gonna need a fuckin' drink later." He comes by Rick's often enough. He actually legit likes the bar; actual live music that isn't obedient shlock that caters to the system. It's not just that it's where some allys hang out, and he's been there often enough to see Erik around.

"I'll uh... be in later."

[magneticfields]

Erik didn't recognize him from the meeting, and he glances sidelong at Hank. Finally, a flicker of recognition in his expression. "Well. Dissenters should get with the program," he says blandly, for whoever is surveilling them.

He nods at Hank's talk of seeing him later. "I work most nights."