voyagers | party post } { fool and king, ghoul and ghost

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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 (

iluvroadrunner6) and I will give you a scenario. Otherwise, mix, mingle and have fun with all the pretty formal wear. o7 Actionspam/prose/whatever floats your boat for this, it was easier to just write up the top part in prose.]

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Cora is looking very beautiful, thank you Mary Jane Watson, but very uncomfortable. This isn't really a position she's used to being in, or has had the opportunity to be in, and as a result she doesn't really know how to handle this.

As a result she's taken to hanging out in the area by the food, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. Every so often her hand wanders up to play with the strap of her dress, or with the way her hair sits against the back of her neck and then drops immediately once she realizes what she's doing. She feels ridiculous and out of place, but there's not really much she can do about that.

Basically, you should distract her. It'd probably be the only way to get her to relax.

Alternatively, you can get her drunk, but that might take some doing unless you're someone she trusts.

Edited 2014-08-31 03:50 (UTC)

In contrast, her brother is wearing something a little more on the casual side. They're lucky he came dressed close to formal as it is, but there was no way in hell he was putting on a tux, let alone a bow tie. Him wearing anything of the sort started and ended with his senior prom. He was here because Claudia insisted that he come (and he was getting weirdly accustomed to her presence), but wearing a tux — or a mask — was never part of his promise to show up.

"What happened to you?"

You look like Lydia Martin, Cora.

She glances up to him, trying to read his response to try and determine whether or not that was a good or bad thing. She studies him for a moment, uncertain, before glancing down and giving a bit of a shrug.

"Mary Jane." It's as simple an answer as any. "She saw me looking at the dresses and she ... helped."

Or took over. Took over would also be an appropriate way of stating it.

"Mary Jane." That actually doesn't explain anything, little sis. But at least the she part of that tells him it wasn't drugs that helped you, so there's that. "You wanted to come to this?"

Derek looks over his shoulder, nostrils flaring as he inhales dozens of different scents. Some are human, others not. He recognizes some, others... His gaze lands briefly on the bright orange form of Sookie Stackhouse before he turns back to face his sister.

"Food's not all that great."

There's another awkward shrug. Wanting to wasn't really part of the equation, but it seemed better than being forced there by the boat. Plus, it would have been a waste of all of Mary Jane's hard work if she didn't. But you are not being helpful, Derek. Your lack of a reaction is only making her more nervous, and one hand comes up to play with her hair.

"Watson." She fills in, before turning and pointing to the Lydia Martin lookalike that's probably hanging out somewhere in the crowd with her superhero boyfriend. "Kind of felt like a waste if I didn't." And on some level, your sister is occasionally a girl, Derek. Believe it or not.

She gives a bit of a shrug at the mention of the food, which she hasn't really tried because she's worried she might drop something on the dress which also seems like a waste. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"Haven't tried it."

Derek does a doubletake, having not expected his gaze to land on Lydia Martin's form when his eyes followed in the direction his sister was pointing. She certainly looked like Lydia, but the scent was all wrong. No banshee in it, no distinct aromas that marked her as Lydia. Just a face that could have her pulling off a missing twins act with Isaac's look-a-like.

Just how many people on this ship looked like people they knew, anyway??

"That's disconcerting." Mary Jane; not you, little sister.

Apparently a lot. Cora makes a face at his assessment for a moment before nodding her agreement. "I ran into someone who looked like Stiles, too. He said he was an angel?" She gives a bit of a shrug. "It's like this is Doppelganger Cruises."

Among other things, but the sea of lookalikes is definitely worrisome.

"... Whoa. Cora?"

Alek has to do a double take when he almost walks right past her, unaware that it is, in fact, the same girl that he met a couple of weeks ago. The dress is amazing, or maybe it's just that she looks amazing in it. Whatever the reason, Alek looks a bit surprised before he straightens back up, a small smirk on his face.

"You better make sure Dave doesn't see you."

If the minion happens upon her throughout the night? She will never get rid of him, Alek is just saying.

Thank you, Alek Hale, for reacting like a normal person who's seeing a pretty girl looking pretty for the first time. Please to be teaching Derek how to properly compliment a girl. Granted, you are complimenting her in reference to a minion, but the smile definitely makes up for it and manages to pull one out of her all the same.

"I tossed him in a pool," she grins before giving a bit of a shrug. "I think he wouldn't come near me no matter how good I look."

And she's inferring from his demeanor that she looks good, yes? No? Probably?

Alek's smirk widens into a grin of his own; Cora's just given him the best visual, and he has no doubt the minion deserved it.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," he says. "I'm pretty sure he'd agree 'good' doesn't cover it."

By which he means, yes. She looks incredible. They can both commiserate on how uncomfortable they feel with their respective clothes, however. Alek didn't exactly choose to step into a suit. The boat decided that for him as it ushered him inside. It's very rude like that.

Her smile turns a bit shy, glancing down at the dress she's still afraid she's going to trip over. "One of the other people on the ship helped. This all still feels really ... weird."

Being somewhere where she had to dress up for a ball. Being somewhere where she actually behaves like a real girl. It's really been a lot of getting used to.

Alek's smile widens, even if he's not trying to make her self-conscious. It's supposed to be reassurance; he's not great at this whole thing, but he wants to try. "Never been to a masquerade ball before?" he asks, though the question itself is a bit needless. She hasn't had time to catch up on movies - much less would she have time to go to balls.

They're not much his style, but he's probably gone to more of them than he cares to.

She shakes her head as she looks up again. "Never even been to a formal." Not that she really felt like she was missing out until she was faced with how inadequately she was prepared for this. Dances were for people who didn't have to worry about someone trying to kill you for things you can't control.

"I just didn't have time."

"I'm starting to notice that's a trend with you."

Not having time. It doesn't say much about the life she's led, while saying a whole lot. Chicago was the kind of city that worked at a break-neck speed - things happened all the time, including in the middle of balls, so people just became a pro at finding a balance between both. (He really misses Chicago.)

Cora's spent a lot of the last six years just trying to survive. She's been too worried about keeping her head down to find the balance for other things, and even if she did, it's not like she had anyone to share it with. All she had was doing her best to stay alive and hoping that she would hear something about the Hale alpha - that they weren't gone for good.

"I guess." She shrugs again. "Just bad luck or something."

Alek tilts his head curiously.

"Do you really believe in luck?" he asks. Some say it as a form of expression and others take it a bit more literally. He hasn't decided yet for himself, so he's curious what she thinks.

She pauses for a moment, actually seriously considering the question. She doesn't want to think that there's something so serendipitous as luck, but at the same time, how else do you explain it? Did she really bring everything that's happened to her on herself?

"Sometimes there isn't another way to put it."

Alek nods slowly in agreement.

"I've always liked to think it doesn't exist. That we make our own luck." It means he's in control, when there are already several things - one big thing in particular - he has no control over. It means he can affect change in his own circumstance, if he just does things in a certain way. There's a comfort to that, but it can largely be an illusion. "But sometimes... yeah, there really isn't. Ending up here kind of proves that."

Cora's had her control ripped away from her too many times to feel like she actually has any. It's not that she doesn't try to fight back, to charge at the brick walls and the losses and try and reclaim some of it for herself, but she knows that she's always going to keep losing. There is no upper hand against things like death. Trying to fight against the supernatural is like fighting an uphill battle.

All she really wants is a home. A pack. It's probably the one thing she's never going to find, but at least she has Derek now, and she has Derek here. That's the part that matters.

"I think when it comes down to it, it's what you do with it. That's the only real control you get."

Alek has a pack.

It's currently not complete, but three - sometimes four - out of six isn't a bad number, is it? Sometimes it feels like it's all he can hope for, but he'll never stop wondering where Logan and Adrien are. He's seen Connor, Ethan, and Adam in bouts, and that keeps him going. He just doesn't put a lot of stock on hope alone, but Cora's words resonate with him. ~~If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do~.~~

There's a small pause, because control is the key word here. "You're a wolf, too," he finally says. He noticed it right off the bat. She's like him. Or close enough to it.

She noticed it in him too, but it's not something you just out about another person. Now that they're finally saying it, putting that unspoken similarity out there, there's a part of her that breathes a little easier all the same.

"Yeah," she nods. "I was born one."

Alek never really talks about it, certainly not with anyone that isn't a werewolf. But outside of his brothers, he's never met anyone that's been like him.

(This Alek never met Tyler, and he's a little bit less for it.)

Relief settles on his features. "Me too."

She smiles a bit at that. She's met other wolves before, some better than others, but regardless of who they are that camaraderie is always important. That feeling of sameness that they don't really get with anyone else. Most of the time, they're wandering through the rest of the world alone. That's why packs are so important.

"Are there a lot of wolves where you're from?"

Alek shakes his head in negative.

"Not that I've met. Our species isn't ... looked upon favorably, where I'm from." That's the best way that he can put it. Chicago was friendlier than most places, accepting people of all species, but there was inevitably a ladder in the social politics of things, and werewolves were at the very bottom of the totem pole, only surpassed by demons. "It was mostly just me and my brothers. There's ... six of us."

So, y'know, he was never lacking in werewolf interaction or anything. But it's cool to meet a werewolf that isn't blood-related.

"I don't really think we're looked on favorably in any world." Werewolves are werewolves, and everyone considers them dangerous. "We're hunted, where I'm from. People always tend to try and kill what they don't understand - or what they understand a little too well."

After all, the Argents have put a lot of time and effort into killing her kind and knowing just how to do it. That's how they work.

cora hale }

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she's getting double-tapped :')

/chinhands sounds good

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