+ Now the Jingle Hop has begun [OPEN] +

[vitaelamorte]

Who: Everyone [OPEN]
Where The Ballroom
When: December 18th, 6PM-midnight (oocly however long you want to keep logging)
Rating: Well gosh, that really depends on you folks and how you behave, doesn’t it? I’m going to tentatively guess PG-13 though.
Summary: The mansion's decided to throw you all a party out of the goodness of its heart. You know,

Comments

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip arrives bright and early, dutifully making use of the smoking his closet decided to spit at him the other day. The alternative to attending would be another night spent staring at the blizzard outside, thinking of bloody corpses and the horrible death that probably awaits him at home.

With that in mind it's really not too hard to appreciate the semi-compulsory dance, even though the physicist wouldn't have minded attending with company other than the voice in his head. Thing is, Philip didn't exactly feel like asking whether anyone would like to jingle his bells, but since that's undoubtedly how the event he's currently suffering from would have put his request... well.

...Long story short, after fetching his serving of delicious food and free booze Philip is now sitting at one of the tables, quietly watching the evening unfold.

[wrotethehook]

[An extremely lanky man with an extremely overloaded plate of food in one hand and a dry martini in the other sidles up.]

Great party!

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip nods and smiles politely.

If he ever flirts with another person again it will be too soon.

[wrotethehook]

"Great conversation, too."

everyone, please come oogle.

[itsahotone]

Santana was pretty damn thrilled that she was no longer five years old. If she had to go to a party--an actual party--while being an embarrassing little brat, she would have had to hurt someone. Badly.

Luckily, she was her own hot self again. She showed up fashionably late, looking amazing, thank you very much, in a red dress. And she was determined to make everyone there notice her on the dance floor.

Seriously, she was so hot.

[angel_junk]

Well, someone is oogling her from under the buffet table, but all things considered this might not be the kind of attention Santana was after.

[itsahotone]

Santana didn't notice anything, anyway, on account of all the fun she was having, rocking out on the dance floor.

[angel_junk]

Shame. Because someone should really tell Santana how appetising appealing she looks in that dress. ♥

Oh well, we assume others will be up for the task later that evening. Otherwise there's still an appreciative nibble waiting for her, should the cheerleader decide to move closer to the buffet at some point.

[fratermaior]

It's the last day of the childhood event for Mssr Pendergast, so of course I have to have his seven-year-old self all up in the dance. He's in a teensy little tux, and his wide blue eyes are staring at everything. He's a little shy, this young, and he wanders over to get some punch and then hides near the tables, nursing his drink and looking around uneasily.

[sadfreezingbrit]

"Hey doc, does that little brat look familiar to you?"

Philip turns his head to see what Clarence already spotted in the corner of his eye. Something does ring a bell there, but for once Philip is not in the mood for an investigation and he certainly isn't in the mood to talk to a child while suffering from 'hit on everything that has a pulse and some things that probably don't'-itis.

He looks away, turns his attention to other matters and is left with the occasional muttering of Clarence as he tries to figure out why that child leaves him with inexplicable feelings of rage.

[fratermaior]

Pendergast notices being slightly stared at for half a moment, but he ignores it in kind, watching the rest of the party with wide eyes.

[wrotethehook]

Pendergast is seven years old, and his tux still fits better than Bill's does. Where is the justice? Bill, however, is not comparing tuxes, being too busy trying not to trip over the little blond boy, and keep his eggnog from spilling as well.

"Whoa! Hey. Excuse me, sorry."

[calculatedfire]

Ryuho arrived at the dance is a dark blue suit and tie. He stood in the entrance and held out his hand for Kanami.

[alterdreveries]

Kanami followed him in, taking his hand gently. She was wearing blue and black ballroom dress. She had been depressed for a while, but at least Ryuhou was still there. He had been trying to cheer her up, so she tried her best to look alright. If anything, she could at least look like she was somewhat okay.

[ooc]

[alterdreveries]

[http://www.promgirl.com/_img/PRODUCTS/320/PromGirl-615303309.jpg
Cause I'm too lazy to fix]

[calculatedfire]

"This has to be better than the last time the mansion threw a party, right?"

He led her to the dance floor, taking care of the difference in their heights.

two in a row because well I am just a bastard alright

[41810]

J does not like dances.

He especially does not like fancy-dress balls.

Why he leaves his apartment somewhere around 3, he doesn't know. He knows perfectly well he could get a sandwich from his closet. But no, he has to go up to the kitchen and make himself such a labour-intensive sandwich that it takes three hours to make, consume and clean up, and then his feet find themselves wandering their way towards the dance.

No. No. No no no nonono. He tries to avoid it.

But eventually, the poor thing gets dumped right into the ballroom, staggering, in his socks and white t-shirt and sweatpants. But that doesn't even last long, and he finds himself in a humiliatingly trim tux.

He'll be standing over by the door, glaring at his shoes and rolling his camera in his hands if you'd like to rub it in a little talk.

[paper_knight]

Mark has also been coerced into attendance; shanghaied from a coffee run. He is hovering nearby, similarly awkward in a tailcoat.

"Does anyone remember," he asks quietly, "what happened the last time the mansion threw a party?"

[41810]

"... No, I don't," J replies uneasily, mistaking his question as conversation.

[paper_knight]

He notices J and gives him a nod.

"Exactly my point."

Mark had ended up locked in a closet with a black eye, no clothes, and no idea how he got there. If J escaped that event, he can count himself lucky.