❄ Winter Gala | forward-dated to December 24

[11ady]

Who: Everyone and everything! All of you are invited. :3
What: Preventer's 1st Annual Winter Gala (though they may call it a Holiday Gala next year because, lol, it's not winter in the Southern hemisphere 8U); dress code is black and white, no dates required 8)
When: December 24. This log is so forward dated and backtag friendly. :D NOBODY IS LATE TO

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Dining Tables

[11ady]

Need to sit down after one dance too many? Piled on too many morsels on that plate that you just can’t walk around with it? Tables are located on the northeast corner of the ballroom, right next to the mechanical string quartet. Hey, maybe you can ask them to play you something before you hit the dance floor.

OPEN ♟ standard warning for telepathy

[stimuli]

[he's surprised to be in favor of the music; his tastes are extremely precise, but even he can be amiable with this]

[unfolding a nicely-trimmed napkin and laying it over a thigh, though he hasn't fetched food yet, he hangs back and observes the other gala-goers, content to let his mind feel through the crowd of refugees]

welp idek

[11ady]

[scope investors, check if surveillance devices are working properly, manage service staff...]

[it's been a busy evening and she hasn't even hit the floor once yet]

[right now, the mechanical quartet of droids is set to shuffle and she has no idea what they're playing; as she passes by the tables, she issues a voice command to play something she's more familiar with after this number]

Frank Sinatra. Fly Me to the Moon please.

[a small holographic screen pops up flashing:]

REQUEST CONFIRMED. ETA TO REQUEST: 0 minutes and 48 seconds

lmfao sob

[stimuli]

[he quirks a brow as he hears the request; surprisingly, it's also something that he's familiar with.]

Miss Une. You look quite lovely.

[Charles is, at the very least, a gentleman]

[he nods to the screen]

I imagine I only know that song because a neighbor in University was quite fond of it when it first came out.

[but he likes it nonetheless]

[11ady]

[she turns upon hearing herself being addressed before curtsying]

[never could let go of formality; we're not in Moscow anymore]

I can say the same for you. As for the song, it's quite dated where I'm from. Over two centuries old. But I tend to favor the classics.

[stimuli]

[surprised, but he stands and gives her a small bow; he hadn't expected anyone to hold to the old etiquette up in space, but he is precise and practiced]

[she's clearly well-versed in taking compliments with a flippant stride]

Now that makes me feel like a real old fogey, even if it is just a time-space inconsistency or somesuch.

[the designer, the planner, the good intentions -- and an over-arching sadness; it all swims on the top of her mind]

[11ady]

[the sound of a chuckle escapes her though it takes more effort than usual to feign]

I beg your pardon then. Disrespecting one's elders is deplorable.

[stimuli]

I hardly find Frank Sinatra any sort of insult.

[he tilts his head in bemusement at her; he can feel the quiet desolation radiating through him, heavy and moist, and meets it with pure sincerity]

I would ask you to dance, but I have the striking impression you would decline.

[11ady]

[a small smile plays on her lips as the quartet starts playing her song]

I can always accommodate.

[And heaven knows, I should. Anything to forget that swiftly fading face.]

[stimuli]

If you wish.

[he offers a hand to her, the other gesturing to the very nearby dance floor]

[it has been a while since he's danced the ballroom; a part of him seems excited]

[11ady]

[she accepts and permits herself to be led; when they reach the floor, she rests one hand on his shoulder, taking the proper stance as her other hand remains clasped in his]

I'm out of practice.

[not entirely true; though lessons with Wesker had been unique]

[nothing is ever enough]

[stimuli]

Then I suppose that solves the riddle of who's leading before it was even proposed.

[an attempt at cheer as he finds a beat in the song and allows himself to be swept into it, guiding her along like it wasn't a question to begin with]

[beats counted out, feet remember their place with ease, and he keeps an equally professional and friendly closeness to her]

[11ady]

[each step is measured and precise; the same concept behind marching drills only paired with a little more grace; as much as she can muster anyway]

It's far better to be straight to the point.

[stimuli]

I could not agree more.

[even if he did not always practice such; it isn't so much hypocrisy as it is selectivity]

You arranged all of this, did you not? I feel quite honoured to be dancing with the woman of the hour.

[11ady]

My team did most of the work. I merely served as a guide. Still, I imagine it'd be quite difficult for you to pinpoint each and every member of my team to honor them with your esteem. I'll be certain to extend your compliments to them.

[stimuli]

Oh, please do, it's a lovely get-together.

[without all the need for the meandering of words, though Charles is already likening it to a defense mechanism]

[more casual perusal, and-- ...ah. a lost loved one.]

[he stops there, his smile waning]

And are you fond of Christmas?

[he wonders if she'll lie]