ArchivedLogs:In Which Some Xavierites Do Not Have A Date To The Valentine's Dance And Are Not Good At Being Cool

In Which Some Xavierites Do Not Have A Date To The Valentine's Dance And Are Not Good At Being Cool
Dramatis Personae Paras, Taylor
In Absentia	Valentine's Day "I /do/ like dancing."
Location <XS> Great Hall
The largest room at Xavier's, the Great Hall is designed to hold all of the mansion's residents and then some. Built for the mansion's bigger functions, it serves as the school's dining halls on ordinary days, and ballroom when needed. On school days, long trestle tables stretch across the hall, high-backed chairs with plush cushions offering seating for the students. It's lively tonight in the Great Hall -- the dining tables have been cleared away, making room in the center for a wide open dance floor. Along one edge of the room, the refreshments; back at the back, a pink-haired nose-ringed DJ spinning underneath the probably too-cutesy pink and red heart-shaped slowly spinning lights. "The decorations," Taylor is slipping his way back across the floor, two slender flexible arms holding two cups of strawberry lemonade, "are so much better when Mr. Holland does them." Semi-formal, /pah/, /semi/-formal who? His suit has clearly been tailored and tailored well, a deep rose vest and slacks over a white-on-white striped dress shirt. The jacket is gone, at least, perhaps too-warm in the room full of (at least theoretically) dancing students. Together with his lament on the decor he offers one of the cups out to his companion. Paras is colourful tonight, too; her saree is neatly pleated, deep emerald-green net and georgette that rustles with her movements; it has been intricately embroidered with glittering cutdana and resham work in gold and pink along the borders. With a small quick smile she takes the drink, nodding her thanks. "Is that so?" Polite. "This seems..." She trails off. "Well, perhaps later he will do again." Her tone is somewhat noncommittal on both the subject of the current decorations and their future prospects. "Not so many people really -- /dance/ dance here." On /this/ she sounds disappointed. "School dances aren't /for/ dancing." Taylor shrugs, sipping at his lemonade. "I mean, you're /allowed/ to dance. People dance with their friends in -- bigass groups. And get together with their boo and kinda squish up against each other like --" Shrug again, he points out a couple kind of slow rocking back and forth, "so that's a sort of dancing. But it's mostly just like, hang out, chill. This fucking Valentine's one /especially/ is an excuse to have a ready-made time to let every-damn-body know who is cool enough to have a date and who isn't." Paras drinks all this in -- drinks in her lemonade, too, while Taylor talks. Slow, quiet, maroon eyes scanning the dance floor with its large clusters of mostly-girls, occasional cluster or pairs of other students. "A pity." Her hand turns up, over. "I /do/ like dancing." She turns her head up, turns a quick smile up at Taylor. "So does this mean we are cool enough to have a date, then?" Her tone is an amused one. Light, casual; in her thoughts the question is just as unweighted. Casual. Light. She's still mostly focused on the thought of Actually Dancing. Taylor's smile is bright in return. "So you should dance, then. I mean, we should --" It dims just as quick as it appeared. Crooked, awkward. "Um. I mean. I don't mean that -- I mean, if you like. Dancing. Not that this is --" His hand rubs at the back of his smooth head. "{Sorry}," he mumbles in suddenly sheepish Japanese, "I only meant. To -- have a good. Time at --" Frown, frown, frown. "You /do/ like --" "Dancing?" Paras cuts in quickly. Her brows slide upward. She takes another long swallow of her lemonade. The amusement in her thoughts has grown, admittedly, even with a genuine warmth (and genuine delight at the idea of dancing.) Taylor exhales, heavy, relieved. "Yeah. Dancing." Paras drains the rest of her cup, tossing it in the trash. She holds a hand out to Taylor, the other gesturing to the dancefloor. "I have also," she admits, "never much been good at being cool anyway."