Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Printable Version
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Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-17-2015
"Oh thank you that's very kind of you," she said, and her hands reflexively tried to go to the tangle of hair at her shoulders, only to recall that it was braided and bound. She did not often get compliments of any kind, even hypothetical ones. Her hands fell, and she didn't know how to react when the other woman's met them. She stilled, putting a brief stop to her fidgets, because that seemed the polite thing. She made no move to put a stop to the contact, though it was clearly foreign to her.
"I don't know how I would have ended up in your pantry," she agreed, "but I guess I've been in weirder places and I don't really know how that happened either so that doesn't really mean anything. If you don't think it's that though then it probably isn't since I don't think I would have ended up in your dream either although I guess you never know. Thank you for not telling on me, you are very nice and pretty."
That last part was a little bit gratuitous, but she never liked half-measures when it came to compliments. There were so many good things to say about people, she never wanted to leave anything out, lest it be thought she'd missed it.
Her frown would have been small, if her mouth had been, but it was instead inversely proportional to the size of her voice. It was not a cute pout or a delicate show of concern, but instead an undignified and slightly muppety expression that was thankfully brief, incompatible as it was with speaking. "Magic is very dangerous business and it usually ends in explosions or getting yelled at by wolves who are actually people and sometimes the people bite you so I hope it isn't magic but I guess that makes more sense than it being a dream or a secret room in my house."
The longer they spoke, the more comfortable she seemed to get, though it was not immediately obvious. It was a thing that happened by inches, the miniscule rise of her voice to more than a whisper, the rise of her eyeline. Though her gaze remained more in the middle distance than focused on her companion or anyone else. Maybe she thought that actually looking at things was too aggressive, or maybe she simply wasn't used to having functional spectacles for extended periods. "Does that mean that you're magic and that's why you're blue or are you blue for some other reason? Maybe that's rude to ask it's not like I'm pink for a reason or have freckles for a reason although I knew someone who said they're fairy kisses but I don't think that's true because I would remember if they'd kissed me that much. I hope there aren't any fairies here. You're not a fairy, are you?"
"I don't know how I would have ended up in your pantry," she agreed, "but I guess I've been in weirder places and I don't really know how that happened either so that doesn't really mean anything. If you don't think it's that though then it probably isn't since I don't think I would have ended up in your dream either although I guess you never know. Thank you for not telling on me, you are very nice and pretty."
That last part was a little bit gratuitous, but she never liked half-measures when it came to compliments. There were so many good things to say about people, she never wanted to leave anything out, lest it be thought she'd missed it.
Her frown would have been small, if her mouth had been, but it was instead inversely proportional to the size of her voice. It was not a cute pout or a delicate show of concern, but instead an undignified and slightly muppety expression that was thankfully brief, incompatible as it was with speaking. "Magic is very dangerous business and it usually ends in explosions or getting yelled at by wolves who are actually people and sometimes the people bite you so I hope it isn't magic but I guess that makes more sense than it being a dream or a secret room in my house."
The longer they spoke, the more comfortable she seemed to get, though it was not immediately obvious. It was a thing that happened by inches, the miniscule rise of her voice to more than a whisper, the rise of her eyeline. Though her gaze remained more in the middle distance than focused on her companion or anyone else. Maybe she thought that actually looking at things was too aggressive, or maybe she simply wasn't used to having functional spectacles for extended periods. "Does that mean that you're magic and that's why you're blue or are you blue for some other reason? Maybe that's rude to ask it's not like I'm pink for a reason or have freckles for a reason although I knew someone who said they're fairy kisses but I don't think that's true because I would remember if they'd kissed me that much. I hope there aren't any fairies here. You're not a fairy, are you?"
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-18-2015
It took him a moment to figure out what she meant by the nickname, unexpected as it was and uncommon as it was for him to hear it. He blinked. "Mąʼii?" he asked for confirmation, pointing to his mask and slightly taken aback. He was only slightly less baffled than he'd have been if she'd started speaking diné bizaad. "Thítȟuŋwaŋ?" he asked, because they were the only ones he knew who called Coyote by that name. Then again, there were few here from the time and the place that he was; maybe that was presumptive, to assume she would be from a people he knew.
He'd certainly never known any Thítȟuŋwaŋ who looked the way she did. Nor spoke, when she was neither as assertive nor stern as he associated with diné bikágí daashtłizhígíí.
Then again, the only pale women he really associated with were whores. Maybe she thought he was Thítȟuŋwaŋ. That would actually… make a lot more sense. He relaxed almost imperceptibly, though he'd barely been visibly perturbed before.
"I thought I had," he said, "but never by anyone even half as pretty as you." If Niyol had a heart at all, it was still safe and secure and solid in his chest, if perhaps a bit blackened by too much sun and just as much tobacco. "And if it was broke, it seems to have healed, because I don't think a broken heart could get away with pounding quite this hard." The hand not holding his champagne splayed over his sternum with a smile. "You can feel, if you don't believe me." She wouldn't feel anything but muscle and silk, if she did, but that was alright with him.
He'd certainly never known any Thítȟuŋwaŋ who looked the way she did. Nor spoke, when she was neither as assertive nor stern as he associated with diné bikágí daashtłizhígíí.
Then again, the only pale women he really associated with were whores. Maybe she thought he was Thítȟuŋwaŋ. That would actually… make a lot more sense. He relaxed almost imperceptibly, though he'd barely been visibly perturbed before.
"I thought I had," he said, "but never by anyone even half as pretty as you." If Niyol had a heart at all, it was still safe and secure and solid in his chest, if perhaps a bit blackened by too much sun and just as much tobacco. "And if it was broke, it seems to have healed, because I don't think a broken heart could get away with pounding quite this hard." The hand not holding his champagne splayed over his sternum with a smile. "You can feel, if you don't believe me." She wouldn't feel anything but muscle and silk, if she did, but that was alright with him.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Blade - 06-18-2015
Calandra blinked once behind the mask of white and crystal white-blue gems. If his surprise was evident then her surprise was just as much. She smiled brilliantly when he spoke. His accent… it wasn’t quite the same—no. but it sounded familiar. It sounded more natural, more him, and as though this is what he had been hiding before with the odd drawl. Her smile, lacking softness now, became a grin. Her hand came upward and covered her mouth as she laughed again, chuckling just enough that the two of them would hear and perhaps anyone nearby.“Ha,” she said in her native tongue with some excitement, trying it out to see if he understood yes when it was stated, however different it might be. “Ah…. Hahn?” she tried next, feeling a little awkward as she sorted through the various evolutions through the different tribes. He wasn’t, was he?
«Traygon?» she asked next, still trying. Vowels were clipped almost entirely and consonants were more pronounced in a way, but the words were soft on her lips. The words were more natural than those she had been speaking before; and quicker. «You sound as much, Coyote, but it is different. What is Thítȟuŋwaŋ …?» Were he not of her people, perhaps where he was from it was similar? That would be alright, perhaps. It was not exact, but it was close. While Calandra did not feel alone here, or entirely out of place, having someone familiar in some sense made her feel… perhaps more relaxed?
When he spoke next, the grin she offered was wide enough to show teeth. In the common tongue, she said, “You are charming, Maca. Very much like a coyote, I think. You sound like one when you are not speaking your native tongue; when you do, you feel like home.
“Though my people care more about the soul and the mind, it does not bother me that you think my exterior lovely.” The offer to touch him did not send her blushing or reeling. Rather, she was curious and apt to play his game. It was not often she was flirted with as if she were a common girl at a party. And so, she did reach out, bare hand moving toward him. Her eyes closed as fingers spread on contact. The warm palm flattened as she stepped closer just once. The aura she had released earlier expanded, focused, on the beating organ in his chest. Invisible bits of her senses, Draco’s gift, curled around it gently to feel the thumping. When she exhaled, her smile was soft once more. A noise escaped her before he opened her eyes to look at him; something like a ‘hhhmmm…’.
“A little like a drum, Maca…” Or perhaps he wanted an excuse for her to touch him? “You smoke too much,” he told him next, still softly, smiling again.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Angel Kimmi - 06-19-2015
Pale white light streamed through the canopy of silvery-blue leaves and onto the ground below, where a young man sat quietly on a large silvery-white rock with blue crystal which glowed softly with its own light. He frowned quietly reading the piece of white parchment, a white feathered quill in his hand and a bottle of ink beside him. Sighing he let the parchment drop beside him and leaned back, large white feathered wings folded behind him were ruffled slightly in the breeze. The poetry still didn’t sound quite right, the imagery was too stagnant, probably because his teacher was such a stickler for the words having to rhyme. He thought it could still be beautiful in flow and description without limiting himself by rhyme, which he had yet to convince his stickler of a teacher.It was then that the envelope appeared beside him. Surprise and curiosity appearing with the envelope, turning it over he saw it was sealed with red wax and the symbol imprinted into it was not one he recognised. No one was here. Perhaps magic had brought him the invitation that carried the scent of roses. He was happy for a distraction and pulled free the beautiful parchment decorated with gild and eight lines of beautiful cursive writing from the envelope.
Curiosity was one of his flaws, something he got from both his grandfather and mother. It was in his genes and who could blame him? The invitation seemed far more interesting than trying to come up with more verses of poetry.
No sooner had he slipped from his perch on the rocks than a green door suddenly appeared in front of him and without any hesitation he walked the few steps towards it and turned the doorknob. He was surprised by the chill that permeated him for a moment and the sudden bright light. Once his eyes adjusted he realised he was in a room which was seemingly empty and white, other than the mirror in front of him and door at the end of the room.
Reflected in the mirror was a young man who appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen though he was actually quite a bit older than that, and already he reached six feet two inches in height. Broad shoulders and toned muscles looked good in his new attire - a white suit of the softest silk, airy and not at all confining which reminded him of the clothing from home though not the style. The white was matched with accents of red in the vest, tie and silk handkerchief in his pocket as well as an opal pin on the lapel of his jacket with six black and red opals, though he was unaware of its alternate purpose. It was comfortable and yet already his fingers itched at the idea of removing the object currently wrapped around his neck. Yet he refrained for now, later perhaps…
One thing that didn't quite match his current colour scheme were a pair of earrings. One gold stud in each ear, with an inch long softly glowing blue crystal that dangled from them. They had been a his graduation present from his mother.
It was then that he noticed his appearance and cocked his head to the side without displacing the white silk mask that had accents of red and gold in the ornate detailing. Still golden honeyed eyes glowed softly beneath the mask while the slightest hint of luminescence remained in the golden skin while long ebony strands were pulled back into a high ponytail with a red scrunchie with white feathers and a small silver cross dangling from it. But he was as 'mortal' as he could get it seemed. White feathered wings hidden and any outward signs of being…something else were no longer visible. He contemplated the change for a few moments before shrugging lightly, it was not something to concern himself with, he was here for fun and if the individual responsible wished for him to appear human he would comply.
With one last glance in the mirror he turned on heel and headed out the door and into the fray of strangers.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - megs - 06-20-2015
Grayson continued to lean and keep to himself, which made him wonder why he had even bothered coming at all. He could have ignored the green door entirely, and gone about his usual business. Despite a general loathing for magic (which this very clearly was) he had taken the bait into some weird trap he'd not figured out, yet. That aside, the frown that deepened the corners of his mouth, had scared away anyone that had been drawn in by his generally attractive features.
Even so, perhaps there was opportunity to be found here. He was under the impression that no one here knew him. So far no one seemed to know anyone. He wondered if that was deliberate. The ballroom was an endless sea of bodies, and no doubt there were others scattered through their strange confines. From what he had gathered there were people from all manner of places and times, so the fact that they were all strangers could have been completely random.
Pushing away from the wall, Grayson slipped out of the ballroom. All this time spent in preparation to become and investigator and he had yet to do any actual investigating. Strange place (and possibly strange time) and he'd not even bothered to find out more about it.
It did not take him very long to discover that the halls that lead from the dance floor, all led back to it in some way or anything. They would take him past different rooms and salons and parlors, but inevitably he would always end up back in the center. Strange.
Choosing a different hallway for the third time, it was the sound of giggles that drew Grayson's attention. He wasn't sure what it was about the giggles that made him turn and enter the solarium without thinking. Any matter of, well, anything could have been happening behind the door, given the anonymity and joviality of the event.
He flinched as he swung open the door, because it was too late to stop and he was ill-prepared for what could be behind the barrier. Inside he only found a woman, alone, but still giggling. Her dress was black and white, and mostly sheer and he tried not to let that hold his attention. It was strange, certainly, but it wasn't any of his business. Until he caught a whiff of the scent of hot grease and salt. "Holy fuck, are those French fries?" he asked before he could stop himself. The door closed behind him so he leaned against it.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-20-2015
She swallowed the sound reflexively, froze like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been. Or, no. Not that she shouldn't have been, because that had never bothered her, not even lately. Caught doing something secret, something private. Caught expressing an emotion that wasn't for anyone else's benefit.
Her hand continued to hover near her chin, fingertips resting on her lips and concealing nothing. Not that there was anything to conceal, when her face was blank. She wasn't quite sure what to do with her face, actually. She didn't know who he was or what he wanted or what she wanted. There were things she could do if she wanted him to stay, or to go, or to like her, or to leave her alone. For once, she really had no idea. Impossible to live in a moment that would pass like it had never been and leave her right where she'd been, but she had no idea how to function with those parameters. The way he leaned against the door left her feeling trapped.
But. English. American English. Round ears and square teeth and American English making her homesick like she'd never been and she wondered where he was from and when and if he could take her with him.
Maybe useful. She wouldn't get her hopes up and she still didn't smile but she knew what to do with useful.
"Do you want some?" she asked slowly. She inched closer to the edge of the bench, and slid her food with her so that there would be room if he took the bait. Wary gaze remained fixed on him, but that was not a recent development. Strange men who found her alone in isolated places had never been anything but a cause for concern, cute or not. "I probably can't eat all of this myself." She tucked a few curls behind her ear as she waited, and she still looked impassive at best.
She thought she should have smiled, but it didn't seem to be working.
Her hand continued to hover near her chin, fingertips resting on her lips and concealing nothing. Not that there was anything to conceal, when her face was blank. She wasn't quite sure what to do with her face, actually. She didn't know who he was or what he wanted or what she wanted. There were things she could do if she wanted him to stay, or to go, or to like her, or to leave her alone. For once, she really had no idea. Impossible to live in a moment that would pass like it had never been and leave her right where she'd been, but she had no idea how to function with those parameters. The way he leaned against the door left her feeling trapped.
But. English. American English. Round ears and square teeth and American English making her homesick like she'd never been and she wondered where he was from and when and if he could take her with him.
Maybe useful. She wouldn't get her hopes up and she still didn't smile but she knew what to do with useful.
"Do you want some?" she asked slowly. She inched closer to the edge of the bench, and slid her food with her so that there would be room if he took the bait. Wary gaze remained fixed on him, but that was not a recent development. Strange men who found her alone in isolated places had never been anything but a cause for concern, cute or not. "I probably can't eat all of this myself." She tucked a few curls behind her ear as she waited, and she still looked impassive at best.
She thought she should have smiled, but it didn't seem to be working.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-20-2015
This was getting more confusing, rather than less. "Háázhó’ógo bee ádíní – dohda, doh ndiists'a' da," he sighed, scratching at the back of his neck beneath his braid. It certainly sounded like she was Thítȟuŋwaŋ, but his grasp of the language was poor at the best of times, and her accent didn't help at all. "Owákaȟniǧe šni," he tried finally, spreading his palms, because I don't understand was the only real thing he could recall in the language he thought she might be speaking.
Better to stick to English, it seemed so long as that was the tongue they had in common. He was used to that, anyway.
"I hope your coyotes are nicer than ours," he said, same lazy grin. She was probably more accurate if they weren't. As long as she was trying to pay him a compliment, he didn't much mind the details. Flattery and familiarity were all good things when it came to getting what he wanted, even if he wasn't quite sure yet exactly what that was.
He knew generally what he wanted. But he hadn't decided on specifics just yet.
His grin grew wider as she took him up on his offer, though her palm against the layers of fabric over his chest was not as evocative as it could have been. Though that little sigh was nice, for now.
"Good enough to dance to?" he wondered, but she couldn't see him raise his eyebrow beneath the mask. Maybe for the best. It helped him look mysterious. Mysterious was sexy, as a general rule. It gave him an air of subtlety that he usually lacked.
"Maybe you don't smoke enough," he suggested, though doubtless that wherever she was from had better things to do. Unlike him and unlike home.
Better to stick to English, it seemed so long as that was the tongue they had in common. He was used to that, anyway.
"I hope your coyotes are nicer than ours," he said, same lazy grin. She was probably more accurate if they weren't. As long as she was trying to pay him a compliment, he didn't much mind the details. Flattery and familiarity were all good things when it came to getting what he wanted, even if he wasn't quite sure yet exactly what that was.
He knew generally what he wanted. But he hadn't decided on specifics just yet.
His grin grew wider as she took him up on his offer, though her palm against the layers of fabric over his chest was not as evocative as it could have been. Though that little sigh was nice, for now.
"Good enough to dance to?" he wondered, but she couldn't see him raise his eyebrow beneath the mask. Maybe for the best. It helped him look mysterious. Mysterious was sexy, as a general rule. It gave him an air of subtlety that he usually lacked.
"Maybe you don't smoke enough," he suggested, though doubtless that wherever she was from had better things to do. Unlike him and unlike home.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - megs - 06-20-2015
The giggling cut short and he could tell that he'd startled her. Moving away from the door, he held up his hands in a typically recognized sign of harmlessness. He tried to make it clear that he'd not been attempting to corner her or portray any sort of ill will.
Of everyone he'd seen here, she looked to be having the least amount of fun. Aside from himself. She didn't respond, or move, and he wondered if she had even understood him. Entirely possible that he was just large and unfamiliar. Trapping her in a room and speaking a language she didn't know. He dropped one hand and the other reached for glasses that weren't on his face. He huffed and settled for fiddling with the black mask and looking around the room.
Gray eyes slid back to her when she finally spoke, and he was relieved to find she spoke English. Though for different reasons than she.
"Oh, hell yeah. I thought I was going to have to subsist on champagne and fancy shrimp for a week." He moved closer still, because despite her expression it sounded like an invitation. He sat down on the space that she had cleared for him, because he didn't want to be rude. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Someone else that wasn't so swept up in the strange magnificence of their surroundings.
He looked at his company, and then down at her fries, and then back to her. Despite her inviting him over she still didn't seem all that pleased that he had actually sat with her. Tentatively, he reached for a French fry, as if testing the waters. "My name's Grayson." He was not good at introductions, or being charming, not that he'd been trying.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-20-2015
He was trying to look harmless. He did, a bit. Objectively speaking, he wasn't a small man. But he looked small, compared to what she'd grown used to. Closer to her own size. She was staring at him like he was an alien. That was more than a little depressing. She didn't want to think she'd managed to grow accustomed to being the only human in the room.
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again in silence. She was usually better at this, wasn't she? She couldn't remember what was weird. She didn't mind being weird, but she wanted it to be on purpose. Her sense of personal space was all fucked up, because the only person who'd been allowed to enter hers only ever did it to hurt her. She tore off a bite-sized piece of her burger to eat it thoughtfully, restraining a hum of pleasure. When he seemed dubious, she nudged the fries closer to him with her knee, sucking her fingertips clean.
"I'm Nadine," she said finally. "I'm going to… be weird. Sorry." It was okay if she warned him in advance, right? She leaned closer to hold his tie, running the pad of her thumb over his tie clip. Seven opals, same as the seven around her wrist. "You're staying all seven?" she asked tentatively. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She wanted to wait as long as possible before risking going back, and seven days was that. But she didn't know where he'd be in seven days. It seemed like it would be easy to get lost here. She'd need to be able to find him and need to convince him to experiment.
This was probably a stupid plan. It wasn't even a plan, really. More of a vague notion. She didn't even know where he was from. She wasn't sure she cared.
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again in silence. She was usually better at this, wasn't she? She couldn't remember what was weird. She didn't mind being weird, but she wanted it to be on purpose. Her sense of personal space was all fucked up, because the only person who'd been allowed to enter hers only ever did it to hurt her. She tore off a bite-sized piece of her burger to eat it thoughtfully, restraining a hum of pleasure. When he seemed dubious, she nudged the fries closer to him with her knee, sucking her fingertips clean.
"I'm Nadine," she said finally. "I'm going to… be weird. Sorry." It was okay if she warned him in advance, right? She leaned closer to hold his tie, running the pad of her thumb over his tie clip. Seven opals, same as the seven around her wrist. "You're staying all seven?" she asked tentatively. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She wanted to wait as long as possible before risking going back, and seven days was that. But she didn't know where he'd be in seven days. It seemed like it would be easy to get lost here. She'd need to be able to find him and need to convince him to experiment.
This was probably a stupid plan. It wasn't even a plan, really. More of a vague notion. She didn't even know where he was from. She wasn't sure she cared.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Blade - 06-20-2015
Maybe it wasn’t his native tongue, this language he used that sounded similar though not perfectly alike..? She did not know, though, he wasn’t disputing it either way. She did not think the common tongue was his native one, but she was sure in some realms it was for some people. But then, she could be quite wrong about that as well. Or perhaps that drawl wasn’t his? It shouldn’t be so disconcerting. But it was; Calandra liked a good mystery, a good story told honestly.She let her hand linger for a while as she went on looking at him. She supposed it did not matter; he could understand her and she him. And that, at the end of all things, was all that really mattered.
“Depends on their mood,” she replied in regards to the coyote as she removed her hand. And the he asked her about dancing. It shouldn’t surprise her, she mused as she looked out at the floor once more and wrapped her bare arms around her loosely. Bodies still wove, almost all knowing steps to a tune she did not. “Regretfully,” she began with a sigh, “I do not know the steps to any of these.” And she gestured to the dancers. “Dancing, aye, but not like this.” She chuckled. “I fear, Maca, that I would step on your toes.”
And then she looked at him again as he commented on the smoking. She blinked once, as if unsure of what to say, before grinning again. She did not think she had smiled so much in such a small space of time. “I do not smoke at all.” And then she hesitated, thinking once more about his accent.
“Where do you hail from, if I may ask?” It was unlikely that she would know the place; it was even more unlikely that it resided in the same realm as her own given how many people at the party were entirely alien to her in species and much more. And then something else occurred to her.
She had not introduced herself. At all. "Calandra," she said at once and perhaps too quickly, placing a hand over her barely covered chest. "Calandra Redwind. I apologize."
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Angel Kimmi - 06-23-2015
Likèreal walked into the ballroom, finding it without any trouble despite the immense size of the space though once he got there he was fixated on his surroundings. There was such a mixture of organic and inorganic if one was to be pedantic. Glass everywhere cut so that the facets created rainbows of colours across the marble floors and surroundings almost like mirrored walls yet he could see through them and to the arcs of light that seemed to go on forever. The colours so varied, as much as the array of dresses and suits that surrounded him on the floor in a range of jewel tones.The dark-haired young man adjusted the red and white mask for the third time as he walked around the room. He wasn’t used to wearing something on his face and he didn’t quite understand the idea behind it to be honest – but it seemed like he was supposed to, so he refrained from removing it.
Beautiful music drifted around him, stirring his senses, but he was not entirely familiar with the dances that the others seemed to be partaking in. He could sense a mix of auras within the large space, none of them seemed like his so he could only guess that there were no other Angels here and he had been drawn into some sort of interdimensional reality that was beyond his own.
An intriguing thought...one that would need further contemplation.
The honeyed eyes at once drawn towards the giant oak tree that took up so much space within the middle of the ballroom – and yet there was still so much space left. Those large branches that reached so far, drew him ever closer. He was a being, connected to nature and it interested him far more than dancing though his gaze did wander to the individuals that mingled around him on and off the dance floor.
He paused when a seemingly faceless server came up to him carrying something he hadn’t expected, it piqued his interest of what this place was exactly. On the tray was a wine glass etched with vines that had a pale amber liquid within that seemed to almost glitter in the light which he picked up and the scent of honey drifted to his nose. Attention turning then to a green leaf like plate, which had a mix of candied flowers, honey biscuits and berries which he picked up with interest – they seemed like the ones he enjoyed at home. So curious…
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - megs - 06-23-2015
She was staring at him more than he had expected her to. Which sort of made him wonder if looked as decent as he thought he did. And that was strange, because he was hardly so self-conscious. It was perfectly reasonable that all that elegance was getting to his head. Feeling a little lackluster in the midst of all the other that glitter in the main ballroom.
He wanted to take off his mask, because talking to her with it on seemed rude. Especially with how skittish she seemed. He'd be out of luck then, because he wouldn't be able to see her at all.
Grayson didn't need another hint. He was so over bubbling champagne and tiny shrimp. He popped the fry he'd already taken into his mouth, and reached for another. He'd be grinning if he wasn't busy chewing.
"Weird s'fine," he responded, as if that was at all reassuring. "This whole place is weird, anyway, and I'm pretty… much… an expert." He'd begun to drift off because she was toying with his tie. Oh. Well. This is not what he had expected when she said weird. He leaned back a bit, not to pull the tie from her grasp. It was so he could look down at the top of her head.
"Uh, I'm not sure, actually," he explained, reaching around to rub the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't steadying himself on the bench. "This place reeks of magic and magic kind of freaks me out," he emulated an exaggerated shudder as if to prove his point.
He didn't mention that he would be willing to stay if he had a good reason, because that was a very awkward thing to say to someone you'd just met. "What about you? All seven?"
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-23-2015
She had a feeling that he was not the expert on weird, of the two of them. Then again, her experience was far from scholarly. While she wanted more of her soda, she didn't quite want to let go of his tie. Maybe because he felt like a real person, like a lifeline. Superstitious, to think that holding onto someone would keep her from being spirited away. She tilted her head toward the door, to be sure that it had not turned green while she wasn't looking, and the feathers from her mask brushed against his skin.
"Magic is stupid," she said, looking up at him, and the words were tinged with bitterness. It was the first deviation from the blunted affect that she couldn't seem to help. It was possible that it was a form of self-defense, keeping herself all wrapped up so that she wouldn't burst. Her grip tightened. "But you're already here," she pointed out. "That means you've already accepted the terms. If you were going to get fucked..." Nadine shrugged. "You're already fucked. You might as well try to enjoy it."
That was how they got you, clicking accept on the terms and conditions without bothering to read it first. Every magician was secretly just a contract lawyer, clever use of language to obfuscate their actual meaning.
"I'm staying," she said, forcing herself to let him go and lean further away. She fidgeted with her necklace instead, hooking a finger in the chain and spinning the heart back and forth. "As long as I can." She looked at her wrist and the opals on it. "It's not as imprecise as it looks. They dim slow, so you have some warning." Her gaze went distant and thoughtful. "No one's sure how the doors work. It's not like anyone can report back after they leave. Trying to experiment seems like it would... backfire." This time when her grip tightened it was around her necklace instead of his tie, pressing shapes into her palm. "I don't know," she said, and one of the things she didn't know was why she'd bothered saying that. Didn't know how the doors worked, didn't know if trying to be clever would leave her off worse instead of better.
Seven days was a long time and it was no time at all. A long time to spend uncertain, not enough time to provide her with any real relief. Not that it mattered when she wouldn't remember it.
Everything about this was frustrating and pointless. She let her necklace go before she broke it, flexed her fingers and splayed them out to press her palms to her knees. She was very determined to remain calm. And not, for instance, scream.
"Magic is stupid," she said, looking up at him, and the words were tinged with bitterness. It was the first deviation from the blunted affect that she couldn't seem to help. It was possible that it was a form of self-defense, keeping herself all wrapped up so that she wouldn't burst. Her grip tightened. "But you're already here," she pointed out. "That means you've already accepted the terms. If you were going to get fucked..." Nadine shrugged. "You're already fucked. You might as well try to enjoy it."
That was how they got you, clicking accept on the terms and conditions without bothering to read it first. Every magician was secretly just a contract lawyer, clever use of language to obfuscate their actual meaning.
"I'm staying," she said, forcing herself to let him go and lean further away. She fidgeted with her necklace instead, hooking a finger in the chain and spinning the heart back and forth. "As long as I can." She looked at her wrist and the opals on it. "It's not as imprecise as it looks. They dim slow, so you have some warning." Her gaze went distant and thoughtful. "No one's sure how the doors work. It's not like anyone can report back after they leave. Trying to experiment seems like it would... backfire." This time when her grip tightened it was around her necklace instead of his tie, pressing shapes into her palm. "I don't know," she said, and one of the things she didn't know was why she'd bothered saying that. Didn't know how the doors worked, didn't know if trying to be clever would leave her off worse instead of better.
Seven days was a long time and it was no time at all. A long time to spend uncertain, not enough time to provide her with any real relief. Not that it mattered when she wouldn't remember it.
Everything about this was frustrating and pointless. She let her necklace go before she broke it, flexed her fingers and splayed them out to press her palms to her knees. She was very determined to remain calm. And not, for instance, scream.
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Tindome - 06-24-2015
"Hmm," was all he said as her lingering hand left his chest, feigning thoughtfulness. About what, he could not say. He'd found that pretending to be thoughtful was the best way to disguise not knowing what to say. Wild animals were a dull topic of conversation for a place like this, anyway. Not as if they came up often very much at home, either, unless they were trying to get at the sheep.
He'd never been very good when it came to tradition and spirituality.
Sipping at his champagne, he looked out at the dancers along with her, voluminous skirts blooming as they twirled. "Then you're in luck," he said, "because I just learned these, myself. I'd be happy to try and teach you. Not that I'm going to be very good at it, since I just learned, and all. We'll be a matched set, tripping all over each other. Maybe folk'll assume we're doing it on purpose."
He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Downright shameful," he chided, "lungs all pink like that. That can't possibly be healthy." He finished off his champagne and handed off the empty flute to a passing server's tray, wondering idly if he could ask for cigarettes.
"Dinétah," he said. "North of what's left of Arizona." He had the feeling she wouldn't have any idea where that was or what it meant, but she'd asked. And she'd finally noticed that she'd forgotten to introduce herself. Maybe he should have found a nickname for her, to match the one she'd given him. Not quite as easy with her outfit, though. "Niyol Sani," he introduced. "Dibé Łizhiní báshíshchíín. Don't worry about it. Should have introduced myself first, come to think of it. Got distracted by a pretty face."
He'd never been very good when it came to tradition and spirituality.
Sipping at his champagne, he looked out at the dancers along with her, voluminous skirts blooming as they twirled. "Then you're in luck," he said, "because I just learned these, myself. I'd be happy to try and teach you. Not that I'm going to be very good at it, since I just learned, and all. We'll be a matched set, tripping all over each other. Maybe folk'll assume we're doing it on purpose."
He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Downright shameful," he chided, "lungs all pink like that. That can't possibly be healthy." He finished off his champagne and handed off the empty flute to a passing server's tray, wondering idly if he could ask for cigarettes.
"Dinétah," he said. "North of what's left of Arizona." He had the feeling she wouldn't have any idea where that was or what it meant, but she'd asked. And she'd finally noticed that she'd forgotten to introduce herself. Maybe he should have found a nickname for her, to match the one she'd given him. Not quite as easy with her outfit, though. "Niyol Sani," he introduced. "Dibé Łizhiní báshíshchíín. Don't worry about it. Should have introduced myself first, come to think of it. Got distracted by a pretty face."
Ballroom Blitz [Open] - Blade - 06-26-2015
She didn’t say anything right away to the offer of him teaching her. It was natural for her to be curious; thus, one part of her wanted very much to say yes. She’d never learned the steps before… and yet… one part of her was still uncertain. Judgement did not exist as a rule among her people, and yet… she had always felt they saw her a certain way. The common tongue expression would be, perhaps, on a pedestal. Aye, she felt as though she were on a pedestal; one wrought from dragon scale metal. That part of her was the one that hesitated. It was the same part that made her touch her lips just barely, uncovered fingertips brushing along the pale pink softness.He distracted her though, pulling gaze again from the plethora of silk and lace when he commented about the cigarette smoke. She blinked once, confused. “It is,” she said plainly. “Healthy, that is. Granted, it wouldn’t afflict me terribly enough to make a difference if I did smoke, but—.” And then she stopped speaking, realizing she’d misjudged his tone and smiled a little lopsided. “You are teasing me,” she affirmed out loud, pausing. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone teasing her. She sighed, but was in a way that sounded as though she wasn't disappointed in anyone but herself. “Do you do that often to women you find attractive? Or just ones you find alone to themselves in a ball that should not exist?” she asked with some playfulness.
He was right. She didn’t know anything about this place once called Arizona. “What is it like?” seemed the most appropriate response. And then she nodded about the name, murmuring it once. It sounded far more musical than her own. But wait no, she’d become distracted as well, hadn’t she? Not yet having answered his question about the dance, she simply offered her hand. “I cannae promise not to step on your toes, but I shall endeavor, nonetheless.” There was no one around she knew to care; while she wasn’t very good at sensing magic just yet… something about this place told her that even if there were anyone to care, they wouldn’t remember anyway.