Logs:Of Memories and Modesty (Or, Small Blessings)
Of Memories and Modesty (Or, Small Blessings) | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2024-05-24 "-- Just don't forget to zoom." |
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 music is thumping, the stars are glittering; stepping into this elegant fairyland one could almost forget that the city nearly got eaten-and-then-nuked only days earlier. Sriyani has been bubbly throughout dinner and is still bubbly now, flitting over with their date -- dates? -- only one seems very visible as they get to the front of the line for Prom Photos. They're in a rich purple and gold lama sariya, elegantly beaded sandals on their feet, and are practically bouncing as they wait. "I hope they have a good zoom," they're saying, "because I feel like this is a prom look you're both going to want to remember." Dallen isn't old enough to promenade without an invitation from an actual high-schooler, and his youth is especially conspicuous amidst the high heels and high fashion. Luckily for him, Sriyani is a considerate date and has worn flats while also being quite short for their age, so that Dallen's four foot eleven and three quarters doesn't look so diminutive by comparison. He had entered the building in a painfully boring black rental tux, but after a trip through the "when we say 'creative black tie' we mean creative" closet, he has emerged...in a painfully boring black rental tux with frilly gold-and-purple fairy wings, a silk boutonniere of fantastical other-worldly purple flowers, a cravat in metallic blue-green that shifts dramatically with the angle of light, and a pair of antique brass opera glasses gripped gingerly in one hand. "Maybe," he suggests very seriously, "we could hold these tiny binoculars backwards in front of you." All the while he's making a show of peering at his brother through the opera glasses, though at this distance all he would see is a blur of purple and gold. Maybe a smudge of blue-green in there somewhere. << Oooooh. >> In comparison to the third member of this trifecta, anyway, both Dallen and Sriyani look very big. Of course, the third member of this group is a small but brightly colored metallic green beetle perched on Sriyani's sleeve. << Woah can you see me? I can't see anything. You both looked great though we have to send the picture to Mom and Dad they will be so excited. >> There's a flash, quick and bright. The couple before them is moving on, the glittering starry display freed now for New Photos. Beside the (paid, official) photographer, Kavalam is standing with his own camera -- he's been bopping around, unsurprisingly mostly unobserved, though he's visible enough at the moment. "If you want to be inspecting their chest so closely you will need to turn the glasses around only. -- come, come." Kavalam is waving them on to take up their proper place for the photo. "Deadly accessorizing. I will send you copies if you like." "Oh, isn't it? We picked it out of the restaurant's stash, it's wild in there. -- oh!" Sriyani has a tiara they also copped from the Dress-Up Closet and they're holding it close to where Bryce is perched. "Do you want to sit here, you're bright enough to be like a jewel. We will definitely send your folks a pic I bet they'll flip." They're bouncing -- a little less jauntily than they would if they were not being Bryce's Steed -- over to the glittering archway. Dallen flushes pink. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at your -- chest," he tells Sriyani earnestly. "I mean, it's a very pretty chest but I was looking at Bryce. Also I couldn't see anything because this scope has a really small focal range and I was standing too close." Sriyani's excitement is contagious, and he's also bouncing a little as they take their places. "You do look really great," he assures his brother, also earnestly, though he looks a bit worried as he continues. "Obviously it's not your fault and I'm sure Mom and Dad will understand, since it was part of Heavenly Father's plan for saving you from the aliens, but..." He drops his voice just low enough to be audible over the music. "...you're kind of naked." Bryce is climbing, obligingly, onto the tiara, perching himself in the very middle of its pointy centerpiece. If you don't look too close it almost looks like its makers designed it to have a bright emerald in the center, but then, most emeralds don't have quite so many legs. << Oooooh, >> this time sounds a little bit pensive, a little bit nervous. << I did ask Mr. Hawkeye for some clothes but he didn't have any that fits, do you think they'll notice? Maybe -- >> the beetles is climbing again, up to the very top point of the tiara and then turning slightly to the side before deciding, << no wait maybe that's worse. >> What constitutes Beetle Modesty, who knows, but Bryce is shifting on the shiny headpiece again. "Wait-wait-wait." Nahida is hurrying over with a quiet rustle of silk from the folds of her dress, which is not actually a sari but evokes one strongly in its drape and elegant embroidery and the sweep of fabric draped over one shoulder. "Not fair everyone else gets to be so prettied up, Quentin has helped me make just the thing." The bow tie she's holding in one palm is incredibly tiny, as is the eensy dot of putty attached to its top. It takes some very careful and gentle work for Nahida to attach it kind of tenuously in place. Then she's backing away, giving the trio two solid thumbs up. She's telling the photographers, right before they snap their shots: "-- Just don't forget to zoom." |