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

[bigbad]

[Gosh, Buffy, thanks. Be any meaner to him and he'll... well, let's face it, fall in love with you.

Though actually he really can't... disprove her. He doesn't even really know what his hair looks like, thanks to his little mirror problem. He saw a photograph, but it's not really the same thing.]

Got to fit in with you natural blondes somehow.

[slays]

[ Oh hey this tag exists. Buffy gives a little bit of an amused snort, rolling her eyes. ] Hate to break it to you, but you fit in about as well as a sore thumb. [ A beat. She slowly looks down at her thumb, considering this. ]

[bigbad]

[It sure does! Spike tilts his head and looks down at her thumb, trying to figure out... what she's doing.]

I think I'm all right with that. Being unique and all.

[slays]

[ Her expression seems to shrug it off and she drops her thumb and looks back up at him. Something seems to set in ... something being how instinctively bitchy she's been. ]

I'm -- God, I'm sorry, that was ... I don't usually ... I mean, I don't think I usually ... [ Hrnngh. She can't even begin to explain the ick feeling he gives her that just seems to inspire the cattiness. And vibe is hardly an excuse. ]

[bigbad]

Oh. Uh... it's all right. [The weird thing was, he hadn't even noticed it was unusually bitchy. It seemed perfectly natural.]

[slays]

It's just, you know. New place. Teeming with people I've never met in my life. I'm not big on crowd. [ She folds her arms over her chest, glancing around. She couldn't place why, but she was sticking with the fact that she wasn't even at peace with herself, how was she supposed to feel at peace surrounded by a whole mess of strangers. ]

[bigbad]

Guess we've got something in common after all. [Spike was having an all right time, but mostly, he'd just found more and more people he didn't like.

He snagged a glass from a passing waiter.] Least there's free drinks.

[slays]

Cheers. [ She says it in an almost reluctant way, picking a glass off for herself and holding it up, then taking a long drink of the champagne. Something tells her she'll need it to get through this. ]

[bigbad]

[He raises his glass with her and takes a swallow.] Guess tomorrow the real fun starts, right? Training and the like.

[slays]

Observe how I jump for joy. [ She huffs. ] My Knight's way stuffy. I mean, granted, England, kind of expected -- no offense -- but I am expecting zero fun.

[bigbad]

[Ouch, Buffy. Spike doesn't even remember being from England.] Mine lives in the woods, apparently.

[slay]

So, we're not looking at stellar personal hygiene.

[bigbad]

Probably not, no. [A beat.] Want to trade?

[slay]

Hmmm, tough call, but I think I'll pass. Pretty sure I like my showers too much for that. Call me crazy.

[bigbad]

[He shrugs, not particularly put out.] My loss. Good luck with Sir Stuffy.

[slays]

Better Stuffy than Smelly. You might wanna invest in some clothespins. [ She pinches her nose to plug it indicatively. ]

[bigbad]

[Spike smirks at her, amused by both the idea and her antics.] I'll think about it. Who knows? Maybe I'll luck out.

[slay]

What exactly would the outdoorsman version of lucking out be? That he bathes in the river every week?

[bigbad]

[Spike grimaces.]

...that he's got a real bathroom and not an outhouse.

[slay]

Might wanna cozy yourself up to the idea of getting in touch with your inner outdoorsman. [ A beat, she considers the phrase 'inner outdoorsman' because it sounds contradictory even though it's ... not. ]