Paper Faces on Parade

[applesaucemod]

The residents of Manhattan will once again find themselves drawn into the currents of the rift when they sleep tonight. Once again, too, the rift is drawing in people from other worlds, both those who might one day find themselves pulled through in waking life and those who might yet escape its grasp.

Tonight, it seems, a celebration is in order. The ballroom of a country manor is the setting for tonight's gathering. Wood and marble gleam in the gas lighting, and a bar at one end of the room provides the, ahem, social lubricant some guests may require. At the other end, a staircase leads to a walkway that runs the entire parameter of the room, allowing guests to watch the dancing from above. While the party is localized in the ballroom, who knows what secret passages and hidden ways a grand old house like this one might conceal?

Those who appear here will find themselves wearing a disguise on arrival. Should the rift cause one to appear in a costume not of their liking (as it is fairly likely to do), an enormous wardrobe can be found through a door near the bar. In it, guests will find a seemingly infinite assortment of costumes and masks of all sizes and varieties ready for their use.


[Mod note: Usual dream-party rules apply. Both members and non-members are welcome to use any character, be they already in the game or no, and players can choose whether to have their characters remember this in the morning.]

Comments

XD I thought about flinging him at her but didn't want to hog

[fucking_ebay]

Peter is busy looking at the people on the upper level, the nose of his mask and the slight tilt of his head making him look like a particularly awkward bird. He doesn't bother to look when he feels someone brushing up against him, but when she doesn't move on for a few moments and it registers that she might be something good to look at, he finally turns his head.

And she is a bit of alright, isn't she? More dress on her than he thinks there needs to be, though. Peter's gaze starts with her skirt and drifts lazily upward, and even once he reaches her face it takes a moment or two before the vague familiarity of the shape of her face behind the mask, and that hair --

"Oh." His expression sours. "It's you."

pfff hog any time

[theoldgirl]

So much for avoiding his attention. She rolls her eyes and turns her equally sour expression on him. "Yes. Don't let me keep you from not enjoying this party, by all means." With that she awkwardly gathers bits of her skirt to try and move on.

:3

[fucking_ebay]

"Yeah, you have fun with that stick up your arse," Peter shoots back, taking a sip of his drink. And if he happens to be standing on her skirt, it's almost certainly an accident.

[theoldgirl]

You know what YOU KNOW WHAT she's going to hit him over the head with that stick if his manners don't improve. Right after she lets out an undignified sound at the sudden tug making her stumble a step. It takes her a moment to realize the problem, at which point she turns back to level him with a glare. "Are you trying to make a habit of tripping me?" Yes, she definitely hasn't forgotten about him being a tiny helpless bat. "Get off."

[fucking_ebay]

Peter has his glass to his lips when she tries to walk away and just about yanks his foot out from under him. He chokes on the booze that suddenly splashes into his mouth and okay, down his face to soak into his collar, not cool. "Maybe if you weren't wearing a goddamned circus tent!" he snaps back, pointedly lifting his foot and needlessly kicking to make sure it's free.

[theoldgirl]

Yes well she hasn't been happy with this dress either, but now she can definitely not change it without looking like she's doing it because of his complaint. "It hasn't been a problem so far," she lies indignantly while tugging at the fabric to get everything out of his reach, "because everyone else is capable of watching their step!"

[fucking_ebay]

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" growls Peter, setting down his dripping glass and reaching for a napkin. "Look what you did!"

[theoldgirl]

"What I did?" Oh the sheer nerve of him. She really ought to be used to the frankly staggering amount of childishness and insolence some humans are capable of, but it still takes her by surprise. A very infuriating surprise.

With a glance, the napkin he's reaching for goes up in flames. Congratulations, it usually takes a lot more to anger her into active retaliation. He must have some sort of gift.

[fucking_ebay]

And maybe Peter should expect by now that she's going to make upsetting displays of power. He's not expecting it in the slightest. In response to the flames suddenly licking up in front of his fingers, he flinches, lets out a surprised curse, and teleports three feet to the right, where he knocks into several people.

[theoldgirl]

She's as startled by his teleportation as he is, but after a moment of watching the commotion he's caused, her lips curve into a small smirk. The fact that he's so easily spooked is perhaps a little more satisfying than is really appropriate for her. At least she doesn't develop the urge to chase him around a bit, instead making the napkin-fire disappear and turning back to the bar to find herself a drink.

[fucking_ebay]

Just how long is it going to be before she sets him on fire? She seems to have decided literal flames are the appropriate response to his presence, after all. Once he's extricated himself from several annoyed guests, Peter spends a moment staring at the TARDIS, his expression somewhere between anger and fear. He shouldn't have to put up with this shit from her, should march right back over there and reclaim the bar.

Wariness ultimately wins out over territoriality. "Bitch," mutters Peter as much to himself as to his attacker as he indignantly straightens his coat and turns to slink off in defeat.