Who: Kimberly and OTA
What: Valentine's Day Party
Where: Five Seasons Hotel, First Floor Ballroom
When: Saturday, February 13, 8:00pm onward
Rating: E for Everybody should come!
Note: For continuity's sake, please put the time of your threads in the subject line if you would, and if you'd like the thread closed to specific characters, please note
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Comments 48
She shuffled over to Kimberly in her heels and peeked around the boxes. "Hey!" she puffed, "Sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up the pies." She lowered her tone and leaned in, "And maybe twist an arm or two." She shifted her eyes back to Ned and then grinned brightly. "Where do you want these?"
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Kimberly took one of the boxes from Olive to lighten her load and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, I had a feeling you might be for that very reason," she replied flippantly. When Olive leaned in, Kimberly did, too, taking the hint. She smirked and winked. "Whatever you did, I owe you one," she replied in a hush and then stood up straighter. "Uh, over here," she said, moving toward the table she'd been rearranging a few moments before. "I made room."
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"Pie of the month fit into the theme," he mumbled, already feeling a bit shy and anxious, but trying not to look it. "You know. Valentine's and all. So I threw in a couple of those with the chocolate silk and the chocolate banana." Relatively tame choices for Ned, but they were widely popular. "Um. Hi."
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She reached up and removed the scarf from around her neck and then unbuttoned her coat to reveal her dress for the first time that night. It was a typical Olive dress. It was bright pink and orange, with a puffy taffeta skirt. She took her coat off and then looked back at Kimberly. "Is there somewhere to put these?"
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"Hey! Awesome party," she grinned, not phased that she was going to end up being alone inevitably.
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"Ha, you're hilarious," she teased, grinning. "Lulu, this is Ned, my boss at the Pie Hole," she introduce. "And I think you remember Olive, right?" she asked, looking back and forth between the two women with her eyebrows arched slightly as if to ask whether they both remembered one another.
With a soft sigh, she looked around. "The sooner more people show up, the better I'll feel, that's all I'm sayin'," she said quietly to Lulu. "I cannot have a flop of a party, it'll totally bust my ego," she laughed, only half-joking.
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In fact, he was freaked out enough that he spent an extra fifteen minutes hesitating about a block away from the hotel. He nearly convinced himself that Kimberly wouldn't even notice he wasn't there, but he had promised he'd go, and he was going to. Even if drinking Jenga made him want to move to a different hemisphere.
As soon as he stepped inside and saw Lulu and Kimberly, he regretted his outfit, his favorite blue sweater, a gray shirt, and a new tie. He tentatively walked up to the host and gave her a weak smile, "Hi Kimberly. Are we supposed to be dressed up?"
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"It is casual enough?" Byron asked, honestly curious and more than a little concerned. "And I assure you, I have not meant to be a stranger. The snow has afforded me ample time to work on the interior of our mansion." Not that he personally had been doing any of the work. Somehow the bank had contacted him to tell him there was an account with what looked to be a hood deal of his father's holdings in it. Strange town indeed. "Your invitation afforded me a chance to get out for the night, I couldn't not take it--you're feeling better I see?" As horrific as that day had been, he did remember that she had been ill as well.
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Though, Felix often seemed to fall into the category of "buy candy, eat candy."
But he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to support his friend. Kimberly's party needed to be successful, and he'd do his part.
He showed up at the party dressed fairly casually, a blazer over his collared shirt and jeans, immediately scoping out the crowd for familiar faces.
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Looking over at the other man as he took a cup from the stack and worked the keg like a pro, Sid raised his eyebrows. "Want a beer?" he asked, reaching toward the stack of cups to grab another, in case the other man did want one. He might as well just get both of them their drinks while he was at it, he supposed. The least he could do for knocking into the bloke.
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Still, he looked glamorous -- cleaned up nice -- and River wore pink for the occasion. Springish dress patterned with little red flowers despite the snow outside.
Inside, the ballroom was crowded and their entrance went unnoticed. It didn't occur to River that the Master's reputation may have preceded him. She looked up, grinned, and elbowed him lightly in the side, as if to say 'Look! Look where we are!'
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Then again, he had always liked a bit of close tailoring.
He'd slipped the hood of his short cloak over his head when they were still outside, lurking beneath the sanctuary of black wool and red silk. He clutched the folds of the fabric over the collar of his Nehru jacket, hand at his chest.
He wasn't wearing gloves. He hadn't found a pair that were right.
Somehow, the outfit just wasn't complete without them. He felt naked, despite all the cloth on him.
The Master glanced down uncertainly at River when he felt the jut of her elbow, really bony for a human. There were so many humans. Why had he wanted to do this, again? It was all fun and games until someone lost his nice vantage point outside the crush of human life, so...fecund. And of course now he could smell them.
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"Exciting!" Reaching out, she hooked an arm around his and tugged forward, toward the dance floor. "We're like colorful bits of paper!"
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River's excitability had an achingly familiar feel to it, the way she responded to that boisterous human chaos as though it were the most energising thing in the universe. Familiar, too, the way he ended up dragged into the fray, the way it all blurred on the edge of consciousness against the one burning thing that mattered, the memory of misadventures just like this, long, so very long ago.
But then the music changed to something he could dance to, something he could get excited about, and took her hand and spun her around and incorporated himself into the rhythm until any such memories were drowned out by the pounding beat of the now.
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