Masquerade Mingle

[thespaceopera]

[The night has finally come--the Gravity Rush is nearly upon us! What normally serves as a large performance hall has been gutted, emptied of its boring furniture and rigged up into a fantastical mismatch of technology and old culture. No matter where you go tonight, you're encouraged to move around, dance, play games, whatever helps you sleep in late tomorrow morning.

If you aren't one for scurrying around a ballroom all night, there's always plenty of people-watching to do. After all, so many people are wearing extravagant costumes and elaborate masks. How can you even tell who is who? Get lost in a crowd of sequins, chatter with a sun and a moon, or try to beat the guy in the monster-mask at a game of cards. Meet your friends or make some new ones--this masquerade party has begun!]


[[ooc: All sections are up now, have fun! A related ooc post is HERE for any questions or plotting you'd like to do.]]

Comments

[precedented]

[ Leto laughs, thrilled by his bold action. He twines their fingers together, taking up the proper position. ]

Are you going to sweep me away?

[complicatedliar]

[Leto, you do not disappoint. Loki takes the lead, and keeps the dance close.]

Tempt me and I might go flapping off into the night with you clutched in my talons. My hoard is rather impoverished at the moment.

[precedented]

[ He hums, leaning close, keeping in rhythm. ]

I've always liked that idea. Being whisked away from it all.

[complicatedliar]

Shall I set you upon a mountain peak or at the top of a high tower surrounded with brambles and spires of ice?

[It's a dance, and he's in a fanciful mood.]

[precedented]

[ He sidesteps, a clever twist of the wrist. ]

It is best not to. I am terribly weak to heights.

[complicatedliar]

Mmm, then shall it be a gilded cavern in which living crystals grow? Or a perfect coral island in the midst of an endless sea? It must be expansive, you see, for you shan't fit in anything smaller.

[Loki tugs him gently back, arm raising to invite a turn.]

[precedented]

[ He spins neatly, palms pressed together. ]

I'm not sure what you're trying to imply about my size. A lesser man might be offended.

[complicatedliar]

I am certain you are of good size, darling. [How many implications can dance on the head of a--oh never mind.] A limitless spirit in a neat package.

[precedented]

Your silver tongue is working fast today, Loki.

[ He turns. His palms are warm. ]

[complicatedliar]

A quicksilver tongue, then.

Would your feet were fast as my tongue, an no one should ever catch you.

[Loki's own fingers are cool; they almost always are, unless he's making a conscious effort to try to seem warm. But he craves that warmth from Leto, keeping their hands together as he swings them into another set of steps.]

[precedented]

[ He laughs, as he spins around. ]

And if I want to get caught?

[complicatedliar]

There is no law that says you must run as fast as you can. Only as fast as you will.

[He rests one hand against Leto's side for the next few steps, a light touch to guide.]

Or perhaps you shall run and be chased, run until you catch the man who chases you. [He cannot resist the pun, it's terrible.] And no longer so chaste then.

[precedented]

[ He pretends to give this some thought. ]

I suppose I should make some attempt to protect my virtue.

[complicatedliar]

Oh dear, putting guards on the picket line after the horses have been stolen away. Fear not, I'll tell no one.

[precedented]

Then my reputation has been protected.

[complicatedliar]

Your poor honor shall pine away for lack of attention. [Pff, honor, whatever.]

[precedented]

Must honour be attended to? Can it not survive on its own?

[complicatedliar]

Only someone who possesses that particular treasure can answer your question. I hear it does make a weighty corpse to haul even when still alive and kicking.

[precedented]

Then it is probably for the best I place no emphasis on it lest it carries me off.

[complicatedliar]

Mmm. I'd hate to have to fight your honor to the death, as I shall admit not competitors when it comes to sweeping you away. And as I am a lazy soul, that sounds like much effort. Be glad your eyes are pretty and your legs well.

[precedented]

[ A mock sigh. ]

To be reduced to my attributes. What a shame.

[complicatedliar]

It is terrible to be so objectified. You poor darling.

[precedented]

How will I ever go on?

[complicatedliar]

One foot and then the other, I suspect, unless the trauma is such that you will give up dancing altogether.

[precedented]

I would be a lesser soul for it, I'm afraid.