after-party ♔ la lune trop pale caresse l'opale de tes yeux blases

[wynn]

♬ Complainte du la Butte - Rufus Wainwright

WHO || Wynn, any and all Knights
WHAT || Squiring Ceremony Afterparty
WHERE || Knights Headquarters, the Ballroom
WHEN || February 1st, 2012, 9:00PM
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

The "afterparty" is rumored to be the real main event of the night. A black-tie affair in the lavish, opulent ballroom, it is every new Knight's chance to mingle and meet some of their new brothers in arms. Of course, a couple hours are provided following the ceremony for everyone to change, do hair and makeup, and choose from the vast array of formal attire in the closets of the balcony "dressing rooms" located at the top of spiraled staircases on either side of the ballroom. A separate dressing room exists for men and women, and they include full bathrooms (with, thankfully, very modern plumbing).

The squires are usually among the last to arrive, and the ballroom is full to the brim with a fancy array of people, of all shapes, sizes and species.

Hope none of you are shy. They're all here to meet you.

Feel free to make your own open threads for people to come congratulate your newly pledged knight.

Comments

[cabot]

[Said lingering doesn't render her invisible, however. Unfortunate side effect of wearing bright red. The first person to actually brave approaching her that's not a fellow squire is this guy, who, despite his lying icons, is a dark elf with a shock of white hair. He carries a drink in one hand, and has the other thrust casually in a pocket. While he's dressed up, he has his collar undone, as if no formal occasion CAN CONTAIN HIM should really be taken too seriously. He gives her a bit of a sympathetic smirk as he sidles up beside her.]

Do correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but I'm thinking that despite your rather smashing choice in attire, this isn't the part of the evening you've been looking forward to.

[slays]

[ Given that Buffy's only memories involve big, scary, evil demons with horns and the like from Slayer dreams nightmares, she can't say the dark elf look shocks her. It gets slight widening of her eyes, but beyond that, she's good to go. She will, however, probably confuse him with every other dark elf. They all look the same, that's not racist, right?

At his icebreaker, she actually gives a burst of laughter, but she stifles it with a hand and looks sheepish after a moment. Reluctantly, she lowers her hand and explains. ] Sorry, it's just -- "Smashing." I'm still getting used to the whole British spot of tea, pip pip cheerio ... thing. [ She talks with her hands, and as soon as the words are out, she cringes a little, because that is ... probably rude. Oops. ]

I, t-that is to say ... Not really. The looking forward to. I mean, not that I'm not, you know, big on the party gal -- I mean, I think I might be big on the party gal. I guess I don't really know if I'm -- [ She stops the ramble forcibly, shutting her eyes, recentering herself, and tries again. ] This is all a little much is all.

[cabot]

[Oh my god, he looks nothing like Colin Firth, and maybe even less like Halle Berry. :|

Either way, he takes her response as warmer than it might have been, and smiles at her culture shock.]

Which part? The hundreds of people lining up to get a glimpse at you, the gourmet spread, the overly expensive champagne [He hoists his glass up to demonstrate] - not, of course, that I'm complaining - or [He leans a bit closer, taking a sip, and giving her a conspiratorial glance, as he looks out across her shoulder at the ballroom] the mixing medieval art with French Revolutionary architecture?

[He clucks his tongue as he draws back, shaking his head] Because believe me, that one gets to me constantly.

[slays]

[ He looks exactly like Halle Berry what are you talking about. Anyway. The lean has her eyes bugging a little, shoulders tensing as she draws in a deep breath. Because well he's ... still Hugh Grant. Even if she can't tell him apart from Halle Berry. There's a gulp. It's trying to be subtle. ]

Right. That. Definitely the ... [ She glances back over her shoulder, then back at him, brow furrowing to show her confusion. ] ... Huh? [ It's followed by a sheepish look. ] I don't really speak reconnaissance. But, the rest! [ There's a decisive nod. ] I'll go with a solid "all of the above."

[cabot]

[Oh, isn't she just precious. He watches her expressions change with a tiny smile on his face, waiting until she's all done, before carefully broaching a theory:]

You're rather new to this world, I take it.

[slays]

Am I that obvious? [ That earns a wry smile out of her. ]

[cabot]

If it would help you feel better about it, we could simply say I was just that astute, instead.

[slays]

Maybe a little. [ The smile widens some, getting a little more genuine and at ease. Slowly, she raises a hand to give a little bit of a wave to accompany her introduction. ] I'm Buffy. [ A beat. She realizes something. ] Which you probably knew already, 'cause it seems like everybody but me was paying attention during the whole ... naming thing.

[cabot]

Val'drin Cabot, astute gentleman at law. [He gives a little half bow, one hand placed across his midsection, and smiles again when he straightens]

I can assure you that it gets much easier in time.

[slay]

[ Her eyes steadily widen as he gives the half-bow, and she straightens up a little. Wow. Fanciness never ceases. ] How much time have you had to get used to it? I mean, you don't exactly seem to be having trouble with the mixing.

[cabot]

Ohhh, about... [he considers] a hundred years? Give or take.

[slays]

A hu-buh-... bweh? [ They call it dumb-founded for a reason. ]

[cabot]

I know. I hardly look a day over ninety.

[slay]

Well, I was gonna go more with 30, actually, but, hey. 90. Why not.

[cabot]

I'll take that as a compliment, from a human perspective. I take it you don't possess much experience with elves.

[slays]

How's zero rank on the much? Is zero much? [ She gives a little bit of a shrug, going on to explain. ] I don't ... really have a lot of experience with anything. At all. I-If we're being honest. Kinda why I'm here.

[cabot]

Ah yes. Filling the void, so to speak.

Well, as I said, you're far from alone. A rather large number of our members had the same experience, and most of them are now fully functioning members of society. [His eyes rake across the crowds, and he seems to second guess himself, adding wryly:] ... Or some equivalent.

[He shoots her another smirk] You could look at it as a chance to invent the self that perhaps you always wanted. [A pause] And choose out what it is that you always wanted, while you're at it.

[slays]

Well, we've got castles and knights and magic, does that mean I could Amnesia-reinvent myself into a Princess? [ It's a joke. Really. ... Kind of. Either way, it's easier to be sarcastic and say what she doesn't really care about in terms of reinventing than to think honestly on that for a moment. ]

[cabot]

I'll be certain to refer to you exclusively as Your Royal Highness, in that case. [Is he kidding? We'll find out...]

[slay]

See, that? Great way to help me settle in. I feel all cozy and at home already.

[cabot]

Well, what better way to feel at home, living in a castle? If we have to be this far outside of known civilization, we might as well get to act pretentious about it.

[slays]

Pretty dresses, pretty titles ... [ She tugs at the skirt of her dress a little. ] I might have a hard time remembering the pretentious isn't reality.

[cabot]

I know that the dresses in particular always make the illusion very complete for me personally.

[slays]

Fancy accents don't hurt. It's all very posh. [ This is her attempt at using British slang. Roll of 8 says her charisma makes it ... awkward, but passable. Endearing awkward. ]

[cabot]

[A smile cracks across his face as he studies her expression, and then widens when he seems to determine that she was indeed doing it on purpose]

Posh, yes. [There's only the thinnest line of teasing there, a verbal nudge in the shoulder, so to speak]

Speaking of which, you arrived in America, I take it?