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

[wolvenmemory]

[He resists the terribly strong urge to bow back.

He can see a bit of that smugness though. She always did like to admire her handiwork. He returns her smug look with one of his long-suffering stares, not exactly feeling at home in a suit. Feels awkward, really.]

Thought about staying back. But far be it from me to see that money of yours go to waste.

[He had thought she was having a laugh at his expense, when he got it, and for a little while, he imagined a joke was all it was. But she actually had put effort into it. Just like she had into hers. He's hardly the king of fashion, but he knows a nice dress when he sees one. Orange suits her. He stares out at the dance floor for a moment, then over at her again.]

...You look nice.

[And he means it, though he feels weird saying it.]

[moonbay]

[Self control is a fickle thing sometimes, like when you should be focusing on one thing, but another beckons. Or when someone says something so out of the blue that you have to resist the urge to have them repeat themselves.

Like now. Now is one of those.

Moonbay almost balks, but she stops herself, instead opting to chuckle lightly. Poor guy. Even if she couldn't read him like an open book, she'd be able to tell how uncomfortable he is here. And for him to actually say that-- Well. He's absolutely trying... something.]

Thanks, I'm glad you think so. [And she is, for whatever reason. Plus, while she won't mention it again (at least not yet) to spare his embarrassment, he does look very handsome.

So, to give him a possible out, she tosses him a bone.]

Well, you showed up. Gonna make a break for it now? [The tone is teasing, but he should know an escape route when presented.]

[wolvenmemory]

[There's a part of him that's more than a little glad that she's not taking the very open opportunity to make a few jokes at his expense. And he's gladder still she's not making him repeat himself, because "nice" was already one syllable too long. But on the other hand, it's always a bit odd when she doesn't capitalize on the opportunity when it presents itself. Like he welcomes jabs and good-natured insults over compliments, because at the very least, he knows how to respond to the former by heart. He could do it in his sleep. But normally he doesn't feel so out of his element, and he usually considers himself good at adapting.

Not that he's certain he wants to learn to adapt to this. Most of the natives here seem to be trying to one-up one another, filling the ballroom with some of the most garish costumes he's ever seen in his decades worth of living. He's sure he's already affronting some of their sensibilities by stowing his mask in his pocket, which goes against the nature of the damn party. He needed the mask to get in, though he also has his eyepatch for back-up, as always.

He shrugs.]

Thinking about it. But as long as some of those people [and he tilts his head towards a very thick pack of women even more gaudily dressed than most, ones with pencil-thin heels and elaborate masks] don't try to invade my personal space [or ask him to dance, god forbid] I'll live.

[Live being the keyword.]

I said I'd take you home. [His excuse. As biting as the comment at the time had been. Though he has no intention of staying in the ballroom the entire time, waiting for her to tire herself out. He'll slip off elsewhere, soon or later, as he always does. Probably without even saying a word.] Heard there was some garden or museum in here, anyway. More to the place than just this.

[moonbay]

[Moonbay chuckles ay his reply, more amused at his reasoning than anything else. She's both surprised and not that he's not heading for the doors, but a part of her is glad he's sticking around. The pack of women simply get a passing glance from her and a shake of her head coupled with another chuckle.]

Don't worry about it. I have faith that you can handle yourself just fine. [She places a hand on his arm partly in reassurance and partly in apology.] But you should know, I don't plan on heading back any time soon. Feel free to make a break for it if you need to. Just send me a message so I know not to wait around.

[Her hand pats his arm twice before she removes it to fix at a bit of her hair.]

Let me know if there's anything worth seeing in either of the places. It might be worth a look.

[The music drops off then picks up in a sort of lilting melody, one where lots of twirls and sweeping gestures seem to be expected.] So, do you want to dance, or are you slipping out about now? Figure I should ask so I don't waste this one waiting around if I don't need to.

[wolvenmemory]

Gee, thanks.

[He says, just a little bit dryly. Her confidence in him is inspiring, as always.

At her last question, though, he stares at her for a moment, as if making sure that her question is actually sincere, before looking across the dance floor, surveying it like he would a potential minefield: something he could certainly navigate himself through if he had to, though crossing it was not something his general sense of self-preservation would recommend. Ever.]

Just because I can stuff myself into a suit doesn't mean dancing is a part of my resumé.

[moonbay]

Yeah, I figured. [Moonbay chuckles, nodding.] In that case, I promised someone a dance, so I'd better go find him.

[She glances around the room, stopping when she sees the man she was chatting with before. He waves to her, and she returns the gesture, turning to Irvine for a moment.]

If I were you, I'd either get out of here or make your way to the snack table. Being alone for too long is for unwanted attention. [Reaching over, she pats his cheek, grinning, the usual smugness taking over once again.] Take too long, and I might just send those ladies your way.

[wolvenmemory]

[He stares back as the hand leaves him. There it was that grin again. He had almost started to miss it.]

...That a promise or a threat?

[He'd love to believe that she wouldn't, but he knows if she felt like it, she would in a heartbeat, and enjoy it, and he's not sure if he wants any practice politely declining dance invitations. He'll at least move to the relative safety of the snack table, and take the hint before she has a moment to change her mind in that regard.

His eyes turn towards her prospective dance partner first though, surveying him like he was an entirely different kind of mine he also had to watch out for. He frowns for a moment, unsure what to make of him—or anyone else within his current radius of vision.]

Have fun. [He says finally, stepping back, and giving her space to move past him.] Just make sure to read that guy his rights before you dance with him. [He follows with a light, almost-playful nudge on the shoulder, no real metal behind the words.] He deserves to know what he's getting into.

[moonbay]

Either. It depends on what I'm in the mood for.

[Moonbay watches him step aside and chuckles at the nudge.] Oh come on. We've already danced once before. He knows perfectly well what I'm like.

[She reaches up and adjusts her mask a little.] Besides, it's not like we'll ever run into each other again. It's more fun this way.

And before I forget, when you're done at the snack table, think of some recommendations, okay? I'm not in the mood to play guessing games with alien appetizers.

[wolvenmemory]

I thought I did too, when I first met you.

[And look where that got him.]

But sure. I'll swing by again in a little while.

[And with a wave of his hand, he walks off.

He spends some time at the aforementioned snack table, eyes roving the busy dance floor, but slips off like he usually does, disappearing into the crowd. He takes the time scout out the place, visiting the other entertainment offerings the masquerade had seen fit to provide—walking briefly though the Green Museum, and killing some time in the game room—though he heads back into the ballroom eventually with a few new card-shaped pieces of paper in one of his pockets.

He returns to where he had been before, though retreats just far back enough to lean back against the wall. He spots Moonbay, soon enough, and if she turns his way he might raise a hand in greeting. Otherwise, he’s content to bide his time against the back wall.]