Logs:Monster's Ball

Monster's Ball
Dramatis Personae Bryce, Lael, Nessie, Tok
In Absentia	2024-05-24 "You guys always gotta have each others' backs."
Location <NYC> Ballroom - Le Bonne Entente - Astoria
This elegant ballroom has been transformed, tonight, into a glittering celestial wonderland. The "Out of this World" theme for the prom has translated into the tasteful work of a team of decorators endeavoring to make the grand space feel like a small reflection of the frosted night sky. Around the edges of the room the tables with their subtly embroidered tablecloths hold blown-glass centrepieces of star-shaped flowers in various colors flecked through with glimmering silver. Delicate lights hang suspended from the ceiling to look almost floating. There's no plastic cups and messy punch bowl, here -- formally-attired waitstaff circulate the room, trays laden with a variety of upscale hors d'oeuvres and nonalcoholic beverages in champagne flutes. The patio just adjoining the ballroom with its manicured flowers and photo-friendly lighting is a popular spot for selfies, though the official prom photographer has set up near the entrance of the ballroom with their own tasteful backdrop. By far the most breathtaking part of the decoration comes if you look up -- where there should be a ceiling, there is instead a breathtaking and strikingly realistic expanse of the night sky, glittering with far more stars than are ever really seen above the light-polluted city. The night of the Prom has hit its flow, an electric energy in the air that lends itself to both the peak in fun, and dramatics of course. Only one ‘fire related accident’ had occurred so far, but it was surely the first of a predicted many. There’s a small pile of heels already building up in the corner and under tables as the dancing has kicked off, and the AC has mostly likely begun working overtime at the influx of high schoolers 'killin it' on the dance floor. Tok has reentered the ballroom by now, changed out of their previous outfit after raiding the ‘Dress up closet’. They wear an azure prairie dress with white star-shaped patches and a wide vermilion bowknot belt between the puff bodice trimmed in white lace and the voluminous skirts hiked up in back by their tail, their modesty preserved by the white crinolines underneath. Their movements are accompanied by the sound of satisfying clacks and jingles, a wealth of metallic bangles in various styles on both wrists and ankles, as well as a vermilion bow on their tail to match the belt. Tok bounces around the prom, joining some of the dancing and chatting with anyone who’ll listen. At some point in the night, there’s probably one of those circles where people get to do some mini-dance offs in the center, of which Tok probably executed some nauseating contortionist bending moves. Eventually, after scouring for some food, they spotted Beetle Bryce, and sure it could’ve been a random beetle, but they were pretty sure it was the one they’d heard about. Tok is now leaning against one of the tables chatting animatedly with Beetle Bryce. Their tail can be seen waving excitedly under their dress, and their claws idly fidget with table cloth, probably wearing some small holes in it, but they don’t seem to be noticing. Occasionally the noise rises enough that their pointed ears pin downwards, but other than that they seem to be thoroughly engaged in their conversation. “So how much of you is beetle? Is your brain beetle or do you have a tiny human brain in there? HEYHEY if you ever want to be human again for a bit you could borrow me! And I’ll borrow you! I’ll swap our brains or whatever. I think being a beetle could be neat. I’ll try anything once-! Actually no I won’t. But this I would! I’m not too hard to pilot I don’t think.” They ramble to Bryce. << Um. >> The beetle (far less dressy than most here in only a teeny little bowtie, though his gleaming metallic-green carapace is flashy as-is) is slowly making his way through a very (very) small dollop of salmon mousse canape, but Having His Mouth Full doesn't matter much given his current mode of speech. << I've been a beetle for like, a day, or, three, I don't really know -- how much... >> Here Bryce is trailing off, maybe just in thought or maybe because he is trying to get a better angle on the very (very) small wedge of cucumber his tiny dollop of mousse sits on. << Actually now that you mention if I've never really seen what my human brain is like, either, I should ask Roscoe, maybe I've had a beetle brain in there the whole time and I just didn't know. Wow, that would be weird -- I don't want your brain, please, >> he's adding swift but carefully polite. << It's been hard enough figuring out these new legs once. >> Though Bryce is probably not the only one conversing telepathically tonight, it might in fact be his mode of speech that draws Lael's attention as he steps off the dance floor and drifts over to their table with his date on his arm. He may not be Prom King, but he is royally attired tonight in a rich purple tuxedo with violet satin lapels, his boutonnière a showy waling-waling orchid framed with little white oconee bells and woven pandan leaves. Stark against his white dress shirt is a tie of deepest black swirled with starry nebulae and a matching vest. His long black locs are dusted with veins of gold and silver punctuated by crystal stars that twinkle all the brighter in their constant motion. It takes him a moment to spot Bryce's actual physical body, brightly colored though it may be. "Y'all mind if we crash your table for a while?" He doesn't lift his voice much, his tone low and steady as ever, but it's somehow not all that difficult to understand him. "I gotta either take a break from the dancing or grow me some extra legs to keep up with Nessie." Skittering alongside at Lael's arm is one very large scorpion-girl. Nessie actually has made considerable effort to look a lot like a Scorpion Girl tonight instead of her usual "kind of grungy scorpion person of indeterminate gender"; her entire carapace has been painted in dazzling starry swirls of many-colored nebulae against a field of blackest black, with a single bright silver star at her forehead, and she wears a violet blouse with a white pañuelo and generous petal-shaped peplums of intricate translucent Taal embroidery, highlit by the color underneath. Her corsage is a rosette of woven pandan leaves and oconee bells framing a showy waling-waling orchid, fastened with the same lavender and white satin ribbons crisscrossing the lower joint of each leg and the upper joints of her tail. The crystal stars on her woven wire earrings and necklace twinkle in the light, and a woven wire cage over the bulb of her tail suspends a larger matching star, dangling from the very tip of her stinger. "Should've thought of the more legs before we got here," she's saying cheerfully, "there's no time now to fix up your pants. -- holy s... mokes, I totally thought people meant bug like --" she's waving kind of generically to herself as she peers down at Bryce, "but they meant bug like bug you look so shiny." She is crashing the table without asking, many legs folding beneath herself to put her head at a slightly closer level for conversing with Bug and, also, extremely short monsterling. Her decorated tail is flicking in a languid wave to Tok and, maybe, "-- Do you like math? You two are going to have to like math." is not really much of a greeting at all but -- it's what she brightly offers the younger monsters. Tok’s eyes light up at Lael’s and Nessie’s approach. <<that’s so cool thATS SO COOL THATS SO COOL!>> erupts in their mind, overwhelmingly so. Maybe even a hint of admiration or something else buried underneath. The self control not to impulsively swap something with one of them has a sudden peak in their mind, but they manage to contain it and it fades back. Tok nods enthusiastically, “Yeah join join! Man you guys look so cool.” They quickly shift to allow for more Bug Bryce view. They grin, full of sharp teeth, at Lael, “We’re bringing the leg average down! We gotta work on that I think.” They wave back at Nessie with their own tail, eyes temporarily drawn to her twinkly earrings, before they process her question, “uh. Math?” They frown at the thought of school of all things, “I dunno, s’fine I guess.” <<liar liar pants on fire!>> “Why? What’s up with math?” They ask, now extremely curious. They lean forward on the table, elbows resting on it. << Extra legs have not been helping with the dancing, >> Bryce is kind of lamenting, though his mental voice is still a little too cheery to really sound all that upset about it. << I'm pretty okay at math but I don't know exactly how to hold a pencil anymore so that makes things a little harder. Wait why us to? Is this dance, >> in contrast to Tok's frown Bryce sounds more excited at the thought, though mostly because he's thinking oh oh I should tell Dallen, << going to become a math bee? >> Hee, hee, math bee; he's now picturing -- himself, really, but fuzzier, buzzier, dancing in the shape of numbers in the air. Lael sinks into a chair beside Nessie. "Thank you. Mister Jackson sure came through getting us dolled up proper." He sounds inordinately proud of his advisor. "Y'all don't like half bad yourselves, even without a whole passel of fairy godparents. Is that," he asks, peering closer at Bryce, his snakelike eyes unblinking, "a real tiny bow tie?" He looks like he's trying to smile too hard at the reactions to Nessie's exhortation. "It wouldn't be even the tenth most surreal thing to happen to the school since I been here, but I ain't heard nothing about a surprise prom theme change to math...bee. See, the thing is." He leans forward confidentally, his hair spreading wide and relatively still. "Mister Da Costa sponsors Math Club." He offers no further explanation, as if that should speak for itself. "It looks like the tiniest bow tie, you both look fantastic." Nessie's face is scrunching up, amused. "Oh, no, you don't have to do math in math club. We picked it because nobody wants to join math club and we're not technically allowed to have a monsters-only club so we make do. Just remember, the second some pretty white girl decides she's interested you gotta find an even dorkier activity." Her smile flashes almost as bright as her twinkly outfit. "Once the oh-wow-school-for-mutants glow fades off -- which is probably real real fast -- you're gonna be so glad if you keep a space carved out for just the real freaky freaks. But even if the bogs end up invading like, Academic Decathlon and the Xavier's Quidditch Team the important part is," for all her tone is still bright, there's something just a touch more serious in it, "you guys always gotta have each others' backs."