THE GALA ON ADSUM (Mingle Log)

[serpentis]

Who: Anyone and Everyone!
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: A ballroom on Adsum
When: 2/21, Evening-Night



[And the night has arrived! Dorian put out an open invitation, and anyone who is interested is welcome to dress up and meet up for a night of dancing and fawning over each other. Make sure to wear your best, everyone! It's a very special episode of Drift Fleet!]

((OOC: There was an open invitiation, but even if your character never replied or has had personal contact with Dorian, feel free to assume he's let them come along or be dragged along by someone else! I'll be tagging some threads, but if you want a thread to be closed, please just say so in the header.))

Comments

[parricida]

Not a fan of parties, hm? Or have you simply had some rather dire experiences with them?

[Arhen looks fantastic, dressed in greens and gold. This gala isn't his cup of tea, not at all-- but at least it looks good, thanks to his and Dorian's combined efforts.]

[noherald]

You could say that, yes.

[His nose wrinkles at the thought, but his expression is quick to smooth out. Thank you, malfunctions, sometimes you're a little helpful.]

My introduction to this sort of event wasn't too enjoyable, but if this had been the first one... keeping human politics out of it does much to improve it, I think.

[parricida]

Well, that can be said for almost anything. Politics is such a dreary business, I should think.

[He gestures out towards the floor.]

Going to dance?

[noherald]

It's a mess, if nothing else.

[Really, there should've been some sort of better system worked out by now- but nothing is perfect, is it.

Arhen's brows rise slightly at that gesture, and his smile widens just a bit.]

I may have considered it. Is that a question, or an invitation?

[parricida]

[He laughs softly.]

I wouldn't dare force a middle-aged man like myself on you.

[noherald]

[Well, now he's getting a slightly incredulous look in return.]

And how young do you think I am?

[...in all fairness, Arhen is still a young adult- but he is more than mature enough for that not to be an inappropriate offer, he's sure. Not that he intends to allow much more than that (he's here for Dorian's sake, after all), but he would rather like a bit of practice. Just to make sure he actually remembers those dancing lessons as well as he thinks he does.]

[parricida]

[A baby, really, compared to a fifty-odd year old man. Garak smirks and shakes his head.]

Oh, mid-twenties, I should imagine.

[noherald]

That's too young for you, is it.

[His tone is heavily skeptical, and he has to swallow the urge to be too defensive in response.]

I assure you, I have found time in twenty-four-odd years to learn how dancing works, if that's your concern.

[parricida]

Oh, hardly. I simply don't wish to sully your good reputation. But if you insist . . .

[He gives a short bow and offers a hand.]

[noherald]

[He can't help a short, bright laugh at that, shaking his head as he accepts that offered hand.]

My reputation is nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'm elven and a mage, it can't get any worse than that.

[Perhaps the same standards don't exist here, but they're what he's grown up with-- and they don't bother him too much, anyway.]

[parricida]

Oh, I don't know about that, my dear.

[He sets his hands carefully on his hip, along his shoulder, taking the lead.]

Now: tell me more about being a mage.

[noherald]

[Arhen follows easily enough-- he's every bit as graceful as the usual stereotypes about elves suggest, light on his feet and moving almost completely silently, save for the occasional faint jingle of jewelry.]

What do you want to know? It's a broad subject, I'm not sure I'd know where to begin.