[closed to Sonny] May I have this dance?
((Taking place on the last night of the event))
After a week of being transformed into a bloody fairy godmother (not to mention her brief stint as a talking tea pot), Helen knows exactly what will take the edge off. She's finally gotten herself out of that blasted dress and into something much more sensible, and has walked herself straight to Sonny's bar. She had toyed with the idea of seeking him out earlier in the week, but the thought of letting him see her all fussed up in frills and granting wishes? Well, she could only imagine the sorts of teasing remarks he would have had for her.
But now that it seemed to be over, Helen is wasting no time to find herself someone tall, dark, and in possession of a fully stocked liquor cabinet.
She pushes open the door and steps into the familiar atmosphere of the establishment. Thankfully, it seems to be empty at this time of night. As much as Helen enjoys speaking to the other patrons, she is grateful for the chance to have a bit more peace tonight. There's a soft sound of the door closing behind her as Helen steps closer to the bar.
"Barkeep?" She chimes cheerfully, almost sarcastically so. "I've come for my..." As Helen's hands touch the edge of the bar, a warm tingle rises up her spine. Something isn't right, but she can't be sure as to what it is. Small balls of light appear begin to swirl around her, spreading out further and further until they've touched every inch of the bar. Slowly, the dingy wood begins to melt away into a shined and polished marble. The architecture shifts, pulls and tugs until the building barely resembled its original self.
And the building wasn't the only thing changing. As Helen glances down, her own attire is being shifted and changed. But instead of the taffeta monstrosity that she had been forced into earlier in the week, she finds herself in an elegant brown and gold ball gown. The material is soft and giving, moving with her as she examines herself. There are shoes and jewelry to match, including a jewel-encrusted hair clip, sweeping her brunette curls to one side.
Helen turns slowly, taking in the sight of the bar-turned-ballroom. There aren't words for how beautiful it all is, and it seems to have taken her breath away.
After a week of being transformed into a bloody fairy godmother (not to mention her brief stint as a talking tea pot), Helen knows exactly what will take the edge off. She's finally gotten herself out of that blasted dress and into something much more sensible, and has walked herself straight to Sonny's bar. She had toyed with the idea of seeking him out earlier in the week, but the thought of letting him see her all fussed up in frills and granting wishes? Well, she could only imagine the sorts of teasing remarks he would have had for her.
But now that it seemed to be over, Helen is wasting no time to find herself someone tall, dark, and in possession of a fully stocked liquor cabinet.
She pushes open the door and steps into the familiar atmosphere of the establishment. Thankfully, it seems to be empty at this time of night. As much as Helen enjoys speaking to the other patrons, she is grateful for the chance to have a bit more peace tonight. There's a soft sound of the door closing behind her as Helen steps closer to the bar.
"Barkeep?" She chimes cheerfully, almost sarcastically so. "I've come for my..." As Helen's hands touch the edge of the bar, a warm tingle rises up her spine. Something isn't right, but she can't be sure as to what it is. Small balls of light appear begin to swirl around her, spreading out further and further until they've touched every inch of the bar. Slowly, the dingy wood begins to melt away into a shined and polished marble. The architecture shifts, pulls and tugs until the building barely resembled its original self.
And the building wasn't the only thing changing. As Helen glances down, her own attire is being shifted and changed. But instead of the taffeta monstrosity that she had been forced into earlier in the week, she finds herself in an elegant brown and gold ball gown. The material is soft and giving, moving with her as she examines herself. There are shoes and jewelry to match, including a jewel-encrusted hair clip, sweeping her brunette curls to one side.
Helen turns slowly, taking in the sight of the bar-turned-ballroom. There aren't words for how beautiful it all is, and it seems to have taken her breath away.