tragic_mask | Le Masquerade

[ooc: please go first to the Through the Door thread. Thanks.]

ETA: As of this thread, all new threads in the masquerade are now after midnight [the links below are now re-linked to after-midnight sub-threads]. React at your leisure.

The ballroom itself is a burst of dazzling light. Hanging from the vaulted ceiling are two gold-wrought chandeliers, both of which glow brightly over the occasion, and tall lanterns shine throughout the room.

The grand staircase descends with a flourish and opens onto the main ballroom. A balcony, which providing a clear view of the goings-on below, runs all the way around the edge of the room. It can be reached via any of the four spiral staircases in each corner of the ballroom.

Below, the wooden dance floor flickers gently in the light from above, and musicians in the side room play soft, classical music. Meg Giry, the dance mistress for tonight, is on the floor with a microphone in hand.

A low, wooden bar in the corner provides hors d’oeuvres and drinks to revelers; small tables for two sprinkle the area.

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"Marvelous," she says. "It's a beautiful evening."

He grins at her. And his voice dips to a softness.

"And have you learned to relax, and take some joy here tonight?"

"These are always joyous occasions," she says, twisting it to mean anything, or nothing.

... and grasps his hands to draw him close, as the dance calls for, then recedes.

He eyes her and nods, catching that.

Hmmmm, this may require drastic efforts.

He follows the dance, watching her, and enjoying the moves.

She considers him with eyes glinting behind the mask.

"And how about you? Letting go of things that are gone?"

"Slowly but surely. And finding a future. Even as i still wonder about one question."

he grins as he dances away again, following the rhythm of the dance, then back.

As her skirts brush lightly past him in the do-si-do--

"And what question might that be, young sir?"

he chuckles.

"Twould be telling to tell and would ruin the question to mask it aforehand. The time is not yet right, milady."

And he dances, his hands at his hips as he whirls.

"Is it ever?" she says, in a philosophizing tone.

"Yes. It is almost time. "

Then he stops, as he music skips a beat, and he looks at her for a moment.

"Are you ready?"

Thehn he is dancing again as the music plays.

The violins fade and the wild dance is over. After a moment, a more somber song begins-- it's a waltz, of course.

"I'm always ready." She raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

And he bows to her.

"Then may I have this one more dance, milady?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," she says with a laugh. "Wouldn't want to be stranded just like that."

She puts one cool hand on his shoulder and grasps his hand with the other.

"So. Ready for what?"

He takes her hand and settles his other at her waist.

Then he grins.

"The time is almost here. For now, a dance is welcome. Especially with such an amazing partner."

Her lips (deep red, like good wine) curve up, teasing.

"Few ever seem to appreciate my wonder. I'm glad you do."

He smiles, plainly, watching.

"Perhaps they do not see you. I see more than a muse."

He moves with her, smoothly. Eyes, brilliant in tyhe eyes of the mask, watching her, show his admiration.

... but of course she can't see his eyes behind the mask-- that's the point, isn't it?

"Oh, really? Is there more to me than that?" she asks, feet moving to the one two three one two three of the orchestra.

"Yes. And you know it. You are beautiful, and kind, and honest. And you have a heart."

he moves and watches her, always.

Melpomene's entire face registers skepticism.

"Many would disagree with you on that last point."

"Maybe they would, but I choose to believe the proof of my eyes and ears, of my own experiences."

He smiles, faintly as the music soars towards crescendo.

"You're a smart guy. Very wise." She smiles, twirling beneath his outstreched arm and back again.

"Just don't grow up too fast."

"Having lived a hundred thousand years tends to do that... but I am feeling much better now."

He captures her, and dips her, and does the only thing one can in such a moment, presses chaste kiss on her, and then lifts her back to her feet once more, as the music soars, and slows.

"Apparently," she says ~~with a giggle~~, and tilts her head.

"You are doing quite well as far as I can tell." There is a trace of mockery behind the solemnity.

"Indeed? That is good to know. But what have you learned, oh sweet lady?"

He watches her, and he grins.

"I've learned that Billy Batson can dance with style, and that he knows how to have his way with the ladies."

She laughs softly, below the sweet sound of the harpsichord, by his ear. "Were you looking for a different answer?"

Re: Dance Floor

withamagicword - 2006-08-13 09:56 (UTC) - Expand

tragic_mask - 2006-08-13 09:57 (UTC) - Expand

withamagicword - 2006-08-13 09:59 (UTC) - Expand

tragic_mask - 2006-08-13 10:04 (UTC) - Expand

withamagicword - 2006-08-13 10:05 (UTC) - Expand