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Entry tags:
- alec hardison,
- alec mcdowell,
- aleksandar hale,
- angelus,
- anne hamilton,
- bonnie bennett,
- carol lockwood,
- caroline forbes,
- claudia blake,
- connor hale,
- cora hale,
- cordelia chase,
- damon salvatore,
- danny wilder,
- derek hale,
- diana of themyscira,
- elena gilbert,
- faith lehane,
- harry potter,
- james wilder,
- jessica hamby,
- john young,
- johnny,
- katara,
- lois lane,
- makoto kino,
- mamoru chiba,
- party post,
- rebekah mikaelson,
- relena peacecraft,
- selin slovak,
- sookie stackhouse,
- sophie wilder,
- stefan salvatore,
- tyler lockwood,
- usagi tsukino,
- zuko
party post } { fool and king, ghoul and ghost
On the evening of the twenty-ninth, the ballroom on the main deck of the boat is decked out in lavish black and gold, thanks to Carol and Sophie, and the assistance of the very strong men they enlisted to help (thank you, boys). It's been a while since Carol has thrown a full out ball, and she liked the chance to stretch her event planning limbs again, even if those attending are mostly the ghost robots in their cater waiter wear.
A soft music is playing over the guests as they enter. As they pass through the threshold, there's a table with simple masks for them to choose from, in case they've forgotten their's. Once they pass through the main archway, they'll find their way to the large dance space where the ghost robot band is sitting, because live music is so much better than a recording, and they actually don't sound half-bad, all things considered. They also take requests, so feel free to tell them that song where you always wondered what it would sound like with a full orchestral backing. There's a large, expansive dance floor in the middle, and you're welcome to get out there and shake your groove thing whenever you see fit.
Tables with food line the far left wall of the room, as well as clusters of tables for the guests to sit when they so choose. There's also an open bar nestled into the far corner, for all your alcoholic needs. There are also plenty of dark corners to slip into, if you don't want anyone to see what you're doing, however the narration suggests watching those dark corners carefully. Rabbit holes lurk in pretty much every shadowed area of the ballroom and while they won't always drop you into a strange location of your choosing, there's a high chance they will. There's probably a high turnover of people arriving back in the ballroom, looking like they've gone five rounds with a bull.
Probably because they have.
The boat seem to want to promote this event as much as possible. While not everyone loves a good ball, some non-attenders may suddenly find themselves in attendance, completely dressed and no idea of how they got there. Trying to leave? Might not go so well either. For some, socializing isn't so much a choice as a punishment, but there are probably plenty of people to help you have a good time.
Or you could go on a trip to Narnia. One never really knows.
[OKAY BALL IS GO sorry I was late getting this up. Rabbit Holes are to be used at your discretion, but if you need suggestions or want me to randomize something for you, just shoot me a PM/private plurk/ping me (
faith lehane }
Faith had snatched a plain black mask to cover her eyes before making a beeline to start filling up a plate. Please ignore the way her stomach grumbles, considering she hasn't had real food in about a year, now. Sure this is all slightly more fancy than she prefers, but that saying about beggars is kind of true. It takes awhile for her to fully take in the state of guss around her but if it makes her anxious she does quite a lot to hide it.
"Sorry, guess I didn't get the memo." The words come out awkward, mostly because she's trying to figure out if this is a dream (how the hell does her brain know what a cruise ship looks like if she's never been on one?) or some sort of occult plot to take her out finally (she's loathe to find out what kind of big bad set all this up).
gets on ipad to tag while laptop suffers windows updates
"Didn't get the breakout memo, either. I thought weren't going to go the cheating route with this one."
It was true; Faith could very easily get herself out of prison if she wanted to. If Angel were from a few years down the line, he'd know just how easily when it took her a handful of minutes to bust out of there with Wesley in tow. But for now, he's baffled.
\o/ you know how to make a girl feel special
"N...ot me," she finally says after gulping. Faith lifts up her still-affixed cuffs, a lopsided grin accompanying them now. "Didn't even break these off. Toeing the line, like I said."
And if that sounded faintly like 'nyah nyah,' well, congratulations. You speak Faith. Everyone is sorry.
"I'm actually pretty sure this is some kinda freaky dream..." Which has been decided by the infant in her vicinity that she looks very obviously uncomfortable about, if the way she is staring at it is any indication. Yep. "Or...well, nightmare."
❤ just gotta wait on java to finish updating and then it's laptop time again!
Angel looks over his shoulder for Cordelia – or even Elena. (He'd hand his child over to Elena for a few minutes, at least until Cordelia could be spotted.) He doesn't see either one of them.
"Not a freaky dream or a nightmare. Just your standard dimensional mix up."
UGH java ugh ugh
Because he's not a vampire. That's not a thing. Nope.
"I mean-- kid snatching? At least tell me this is some kinda alternate world where you're a dark babysitter or something." Faith reads comics, OK. Alternate dimensions are no big, here.
java is the devil, trufax
Look and be amazed at him acting all fatherly, Faith. He's surprisingly very good at it.
"I didn't snatch him. He's mine."
can't live with it... can't.... just can't. we just can't with you, java.
"Yours." Her eyebrows do lift, because she's going to go ahead and give you lots of room to say more words that make this all less horrifically awkward.
no subject
Wow, Faith. Thanks for taking that to the biting place. He wouldn't turn an infant. He wouldn't even do that soulless. (He would eat him soulless, but that's neither here nor there.)
"He's not my progeny. He's my son. He's human. Mostly."
no subject
"Hey-- I was just--" Hallucinating. Dreaming. Figuring out which alternate universe she's in. Go figure she winds up in the one where Angel pops out a-- wait a minute.
"Hold up. Your kid. With who?" Yep, cutting right to the point. In fact, it's about at this point her eyes catch sight of Cordelia before snapping back to Angel's face. Where the hell has she ended up?
no subject
Angel follows her gaze, his mind racing to catch up with her assumption, the thought crashing against logic and reason so hard he would've dropped whatever was in his arms had it not been his son. His head snaps back to her.
"No. I mean, she's sort of stepped into the role — for him, for Connor — but she's not his mother. That's... a long story."
One he'd rather not tell here goes unsaid, but is very much implied.
no subject
Faith felt a great disturbance in the multiverse, as if a million fangirls suddenly cried out in disappointment...Right. Well, Angel's answer is almost exactly what Faith wants to hear. So for the moment, she's satisfied enough not to keep pressing. In fact, she manages something akin to a smirk at the little poop-machine's name.
"Connor, huh?" She watches him for a moment, before her eyes slide back up to Angel, and then make one more pass again. "Yeah, he kinda looks like you, I guess..."
Does she have to mention the broody little brow...?
no subject
He's disappointed honestly.
He lifts an eyebrow at the woman with a smart ass, little smirk. She is in a jumpsuit and he is in jeans and a red shirt, and the rest of the ball is filled with people in suits and dresses.
"Here I thought I was the only one who was under dressed."
no subject
As it is, it only takes Damon being both apparently human and male for Faith to drop into her usual bravado and standard flavor of charm-school dropout. Walking the line of disinterest and flirtation, she figures, is the best way to go for the moment.
"You mind?" She adds, nodding toward that hopefully buttery goodness.
no subject
He does hear the clink of those handcuffs even if he notices she isn't exactly trying to hide it either. Damon's smirk widens though as he lifts up that bag of popcorn in her direction, shaking his head as a flirty, little smirk widens across his face.
"Not at all. You're the most interesting thing to happen to this ball so far." Still not really worth the popcorn. "Nice cuffs."
no subject
"Thanks." Palm up at her chin, Faith's tongue darts out and back in, a few little kernels of buttery goodness crunching then as she chews. Around the food, she decides to brush off Damon's proclamation of her interesting-ness: "Just got here's all."
Again, more kernels stick to her tongue and she chews languidly; you'd think she'd be sick of popcorn, considering it's what she practically lived off of for a good stretch of her teenage life. But the company's certainly entertaining. The way Damon talks seems flippant and unconcerned with the fact that she doesn't look sociable, exactly. Something strikes her and she decides to be a little more chatty than she might otherwise choose.
"Heading to solitary, turned to get my jewelry off and here I was. Can't exactly complain..."
no subject
"The ship must like you. Would've been nice for it to wait until you got the jewelry off, but beggars can't be choosers."
The ship saved him from the terrible world that he had been in, but he knows it's only a matter of time before it drags him right back out. There is some choice on the ship to come and go as one pleases, but there is also an element of complete lack of choice. Some people were forced to show up at the ball today.
It's like the ship or whatever controls it has its own plan. No one really knows what it is, but he knows there aren't guarantees.
"You arrived just in time for the big, fancy ball too. Filled with dresses and dancing and absolutely nothing all that interesting. Run by one of our fellow passengers."
no subject
"Yeah, noticed the wicked frou-frou, figured there'd be decent chow." And yet the way she's reaching for more popcorn might indicate her preferences loud and clear. "Ship's got a weird way of showing the love."
She looks around now, eyes darting purposefully along each wall to clock any exits and count heads. Faith stops chewing after a moment, as she realizes that there don't actually seem to be any exits.
no subject
That sure is a woman in a prison jumpsuit with handcuffs on her wrists. Not that Anne is dressed up for the occasion, either. She's only been here a day or two and continues to process the existence of this in-between worlds thing. Still, she can't help but stare at Faith a little bit. Okay, more than a little bit. She's staring a lot until Faith herself speaks.
"Oh! I didn't get the memo, either." Probably an obvious thing to say, what with Anne wearing her wear-and-tear overalls and old Chucks. "I mean. I don't even go to these things in general, I can't wear heels. I mean I can, there's technically nothing wrong with my feet, I just can't walk properly in them so it's like a comedy of errors whenever I try. No one wants to see me in heels. I'm sorry, once I start talking I have trouble stopping."
Why did you go to prison? Did you kill someone? Please don't kill her.
no subject
So the ramble-lanche is totally obviously because what this girl knows of jail is maybe shivs and cigarettes. Faith gets the feeling it needs to stay that way.
"No worries, I just, uh..." So, what's a normal vanilla teenage girl gonna be able to connect with? "...Thought it was a costume party, what with the masks?" Yeah no that totally comes out smooth, nary a hitch nor stutter. Just hopefully this girl won't mind that Faith's mouth is still half-stuffed and the consonants? A little soft. 'Masks' might have come out a little more like mafkf than anything intelligible.
Her hand comes loose from the cuffs and if Anne hears the distinct pop of metal being forced apart, Faith hardly seems to notice. No magician trickery here, Faith's just going ahead and brute-forcing her right hand out of its metal confine.
For good measure, Faith offers the now-free appendage up for a shake, accompanied by a wry grin. No wolf here, tiny wide-eyed sheep. All's quiet on the western front, or ... something.