It's dancing time!

[bouncingbingley]

Well! I shall be pleased to welcome anyone who wishes to come to Netherfield, for that's where the dance is being held. *smiles and gestures to the front door* There is food inside, along with plenty of room for dancing and an orchestra. I certainly hope you will all enjoy yourselves very much.

Comments

[missgdarcy]

*Upon arrival with her brother, Georgiana does not stray far from his sight, too frightened to do naught but stand and survey the throng like a startled fawn. She is discreetly searching out a Certain Somebody. Her gown is not fitted, as Cosette would wish, nor very decorative, as Inspector Javert would prefer, but she hopes, all the same, that it is suitable...*

[farawayfighter]

*As it seems to be the custom, and when in Rome, and such (though he doesn't know what Rome is), he goes (rather timidly and with much halting and back tracking) up to Miss Darcy and offers a very formal, very shy bow* Would you do me the honor of-- *he glances, quickly, over his shoulde to make sure he's taken in the scene properly* --of a dance? *--not that he knows any Georgian dances*

[missgdarcy]

*stiffens at his approach, but smiles and blushes becomingly* T-'twould be my pleasure, Sir.

[farawayfighter]

*He smiles timidly, blushing more than a little himself, then awkwardly offers his hand to her, as he has seen the others do* I am Telemachus, son of Odysseus.

[treecateyes]

*Enters with Rainier, quite certain that he is going to make a complete fool of himself when Rainier asks him to dance, and equally certain that he doesn't care. He is wearing his dress uniform, because it looks good on him and he knows it*

[dancing_warlord]

*And Rainier's wearing a fluffy, low-necked white shirt, with very tight black pants* Damn, you look good. *grins* Want to dance?

[treecateyes]

So do you. *grins back* Love to, lead the way. *gestures in the direction of the dancing*

[dancing_warlord]

Alright. *and look, they're waltzing!* --D'you think we scarred that poor girl for life? *grins*

[the_fourth_seal]

*IS NOT PARTICULARLY DRESSED UP, AS PEOPLE TEND TO ASSUME HE'S IN THE ROBE-AND-COWL GET-UP EVEN WHEN HE ISN'T, BUT HERE HE IS ANYWAY, ARRIVING (OR MAYBE NOT... AFTER ALL, HE IS EVERYWHERE) ESCORTED BY (HIS ONE, HIS ONLY) PESTILENCE*

*...IS NOT A PERSONIFICATION OF MANY WORDS, REALLY*

[retiredhorseman]

*is, perhaps fortunately, not so constrained in expected appearance, and is, as such, and really rather appropriately, dressed quite dapperly in true eighteenth century consumptive poet fashion. Think Keats or something. And he's smiling quite happily.*

*... obviously not overly verbose himself at the moment, either.*

[the_fourth_seal]

*LIKES THE CONSUMPTIVE POET GETUP, FOR SERIOUS* *IS GRINNING, ANDTHOUGH ONE MIGHT ARGUE THAT HE'S ALWAYS GRINNING, THIS GRIN IS MUCH HAPPIER THAN THE OTHERS MIGHT BE*

*TURNS TO PESTI* SHALL WE DANCE?

[retiredhorseman]

*smiles, rather sickly, not that that's at all abnormal*

Sounds delightful!

[sprite_fancier]

*enters the room dressed in a long robe of black over black pants, a dark red shirt, and black vest; is quite classy, to say the least - and the plothole is a wonderful thing after all* *senses Ariel from the moment he steps in, but moves amongst the people, allowing him to have his fun* *finds a comfortable seat and sits, leaning his walking stick (silver, with an ebony knob at the top) against the chair, as a staff might have been too much to carry*

[ayrie_spirit]

*sees Prospero enter, and after a while moves towards him* *doesn't speak, but does run a gentle hand through his hair and rests close by*

Mun: misjournal? I see no misjournal. *shiftyeyes*

[sprite_fancier]

*feels that hand in his hair and lets a smile play on his lips, resting back against the chair* Ah, Ariel.. you are beginning to find my weak spots..

Typist: Misjournal? What misjournal? I saw no misjournal. XD

[ayrie_spirit]

*watches the people around them, especially the dancers* *after a while, exclusively watches the dancing, carefully observing the steps, the way they hold their hands...* *jumps up and to the front of Prospero's chair, laughing, and pulls him up and toward the dancers*

*is visible now, probably to anyone, and dressed in something he has deemed appropriate based on what everyone else is wearing, probably a simple, if vaguely 18th century, suit* *takes another glance at the dancers as he arranges their hands for a waltz*

[silliest_girl]

*enters squeeing with excitement and prepared to spend all night dancing with anyone who would like to dance with her (or even if they don't want to)*

[rockabye_hamlet]

*bows elegantly* Hello there, Lady. Can I beg a dance? I'll get down on my knees if you want.

[silliest_girl]

*bends a curtsy in response, giggling* I'd love a dance!

[rockabye_hamlet]

Splendid. Now, let's see, what kind of dancing is time-period appropriate for you? You'll have to give me a hand. I'm only really good at breakdancing.