Havin' a Ball

[Doug Ramsey]

It continued to wash across him, refreshing and welcome as cool and crystal clear water to the parched sunkissed lips of a desert Bedouin, this sensation of purity and honest sincerity.

No hiding. No fear.

Her smile, warmly radiating the universe that held only it and Doug.

In fact... he noted that she blushed, her body giving away its pleasure of his attentions.

So enraptured was he in this moment... he nearly missed what she had said.

"But if you ever need my services, simply send down to the kitchens. I am there most hours of the day. I have sent you food several times, though you never see me."

Translation: I have always been here for you. Call me.

Well, no, not really... but... shake it off, Doug. Keep it real.

"I will do that. Definitely. Yes." Douglas nodded, the silly schoolboy grin winning the battle as he tried to keep his composure and NOT give in to the temptation of grabbing her by the hand and running from the building madly in an effort to find some quiet place where they could be alone and keep talking without all this... this... bullshit.

The moment suddenly felt all too quiet and it was about to get awkward, and he knew she would have to continue with her duties and leave him... but he had to... yes, there was a way.

"I would love to taste the finest item you have personally prepared for this evening, Miss Tatiana." Doug said softly, "I am sure to be wowed by your magic, with someone who obviously takes so much pride in her work."

[dazz]

For a short moment, Ali simply stared at Bobby, mouth slightly agape. He couldn't be serious, obviously, but he sounded way too serious.

Nah...Though, in the right scenario, I wouldn't put it past him...

"Um...this is a royal ball, so yea, that rules out making out at the bar."

And then Ali let out another laugh.

"Maybe some other time, if you're lucky."

Ali paid little mind to the shred of hope she was giving him, her baby blues flickered past him to the ballroom beyond. A large, hulking even, figure had entered the party, surprisingly without Betsy on his arm. Something suspicious to attend to, no doubt. Still, Ali was grinning at the sight of her manager. She raised a hand to waive, but Guido's focus was on another couple of hulks in the room, the caterer and...some guy with a White Out complextion. Ali didn't know who he was, nor did she care. Making a note to speak to Guido when the chance came by, Ali looked back to Bobby.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly for taking her attention off her friend, "My manager..."

[Tatiana]

Tatiana was almost speechless. Here was one of the most important people in, well, all of their world. And he was smiling at her! She must have been very impressive in her handling of things tonight. She turned her head towards her boss, who was currently not really even paying attention to her. "By your leave Mr.Creed, I will be over towards the tables."

Returning her gaze to the handsome young man in front of her, Tatiana gestured for him to go in front of her. "Please allow me to show you a few special items I have arranged specially for members of the Royal family and those they choose." With a sharp flick of her wrist, Tati had the servants standing by the special table uncover several platters.

"And you are very correct, I do love my work. Mr.Creed may cook the food, but I absolutely love arranging it and making it look its best." The young co-ordinator sighed. This was what she worked for, the opportunity to show off her skills. "The first dish we have here is Olive Oil Poached Shrimp with Avocado, Cucumber, Lime & Grilled Pepper Salad. The second is Scallop and Shrimp Ceviche Taquitos, the third is a Black Pepper & Rosemary Seared Beef Tenderloin, Mushroom Risotto Cake and Sherry Reduction, and the fourth and final is a Butter Braised Beef Tenderloin, Baby Asparagus & Carrots, White Truffle Sauce."

Stepping back to allow Doug a better view of the dishes, Tatiana tried to keep from smiling too much. "I hope everything is to your liking."

[madrox]

Madrox walked into the rather elegant dining room. He surveyed the surroundings a bit and smiled. He stroked the silky scarf that he had tucked into his red velvet smoking jacket, and combed back his hair with his fingers. There were an awful lot of pretty girls there, some of them rather famous. He licked his chops like a cartoon wolf and began his prowl.

Did I say Madrox? I meant a dupe that Jamie had sent due to his extreme fatigue.

He strutted across the dance floor toward Dazzler and Bobby. He looked to Bobby and touched his shoulder lightly.

"Excuse me buddy? Could I have a little talk with your fine lady friend?" He ignored what ever answer he might have had and looked to Ali.

"You," he said to her, "are Dazzler. I'm quite a fan of yours. Most people are a fan of me too, at least, after an amount of time. What would you say to a drink, on me, somewhere less," he looked around, "stuffy." He smoothed down his scarf and cleared his throat....seductively.


It would be hours later that Jamie would awake and realize that he had allowed his libido to leave the house again. He was doomed.

[Logan]

Sitting at the table by himself, Weapon X watched the woman talking with the priest excuse herself. She hadn’t noticed him, but he honestly didn’t care if she did. He wouldn’t let her get close enough, and if he wanted to he could be right behind her without her even knowing.

His eyes followed her across the room to the bathroom where she disappeared. A moment later, over the din of the ballroom, his sensitive ears picked something up that had him getting up quickly and heading out of the room.

He had unfinished business with this woman.

[Bobby Drake]

"Um...this is a royal ball, so yea, that rules out making out at the bar."

Bobby didn’t quite get it. Don’t royal people get it on?

Sure, he wasn’t quite that dense. He knew it wasn’t socially cool to do that kind of thing here, but he was kidding anyway. Mostly. Not that he wouldn’t have been all over that if he thought he had a chance, but that he knew he didn’t so it didn’t really matter.

Which was why when Dazz said, "Maybe some other time, if you're lucky." he was so happy. Unless she was yanking his chain. But he chose to take it the way that made him happiest. It was great to be an optimist, even if it sometimes took willful ignorance. Luckily Bobby had no probs with ignorance.

While he reveled in the small hope, Dazz was distracted. Something she had said about looking over his shoulder if she wasn’t interested flickered through his mind, but he followed her gaze across the room anyway.

Crap.

Mr. Guido Carosella had entered the room, and Dazz was waving at him. When she turned back to him he had his face covered slightly with a hand, and he played it off by turning his back toward Guido slightly and nodding vigorously at her ‘manager’ comment.

“No prob-“

"Excuse me buddy? Could I have a little talk with your fine lady friend?"

Standing in front of him was Jamie Madrox. They of course knew each other, and Bobby was starting to sweat a little at how close he was getting to being busted. It wasn’t a fear of losing a story for him. Not anymore.

And what was this? Was Jamie stepping in and trying to schmooze Dazz? He was schmoozing right now! Uncool!

"You," (Jamie) said coolly, "are Dazzler. I'm quite a fan of yours. Most people are a fan of me too, at least, after an amount of time.” Bobby rolled his eyes to the side in annoyance and checked on Guido again. “What would you say to a drink, on me, somewhere less," looking back, Bobby found himself getting pissed, "stuffy."

What the heck was he wearing?

“Cool scarf,” Bobby said sarcastically. “It reminds me of Elton John.”

[Panthera]

And within seconds, the scent was gone.

That man changes his mind more than I change my underwear she thought as her feet took her gracefully across the ballroom floor. But from the looks of it, the only excitement was watching two overgrown, well overgrown men spattering at a very petite young woman and the man she had tried to answer earlier. A smirk riddled across her face hearing the conversation and the young female being very harsh to two men who could easily use her as a human doormat.

Humans.

That's the same man who went off with the servant who never returned. He couldn't have ran away. I'm sure Magnus had some tracking device or something to keep his servants in line. Hmmm.

Glancing around the room, she didn't notice the tin soldier to be anywhere in sight. She grabbed another drink off a passing by servant's tray and bowed her head with a gentle smile thanking him for his hard work. Something sparkled in an adjacent room, that caught the corner of the curious feline's eyes. She found herself gliding unnoticed to this small room to see what sparked her interests.

[dazz]

When Ali looked back to Bobby, he was making an odd sort of face, nodding like crazy. Ali raised an eyebrow at his reaction, but didn't get the chance to really question it before they were interrupted by some arrogant shmuck in the gaudiest smoking jacket she'd even seen. Before he even spoke, she was already looking at the guy with disbelief and slight disgust. Once he opened his mouth, her impression was confirmed.

The man in the smoking jacket prodded Bobby for the sake of politeness, but once he got that out of the way, promptly ignored him and focused on Ali.

"You are Dazzler. I'm quite a fan of yours. Most people are a fan of me too, at least after an amount of time. What would you say to a drink, on me, somewhere less...stuffy."

Ali's mouth was just hanging open again. Did this guy really...? Her mind simply could not process the words she wanted to tell him off with. Bobby spoke for her and gave her a second to think, and then a small laugh that kickstarted her mind back into gear.

"Cool scarf. It reminds me of Elton John."

Ali managed not to snicker, though Bobby had a point. Instead, she cleared her throat...not seductively...and addressed the rude newcomer.

"Excuse me, Mister...? I don't seem to recognize you. Movie, music or television? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your fanbase."

Ali forced a polite smile onto her lips, but her eyes made it more than clear that she wasn't warming up to him.

"I'm quite comfortable with my seat here, actually. And while it's quite kind of you to offer me a drink," she raised the near-full champagne glass in her hand. "I'm set. And also, they're free."

[Magneto]

His entrance was as purposefully late as it was all-but-unnoticed for its silence. His steely gaze passed through the room with an air of calm disinterest.

Dimly, he made note of the crowds surrounding his more flamboyant daughters. He did not immediately notice where Katherine might have been.

[Sam Guthrie]

Well...this has certainly been an eventful evening... Samuel thought to himself, as he stood next to Tabitha, a very much in character scowl plastered across his face.

Samuel, however, figured that he wasn't here to dance and have a good time. He was here for surveillance. He had been terribly distracted by his more....carnal desires, and this way he could actually watch what was going on.

Like say, seeing Magneto enter the ballroom.

Immediately noticing his lord's entrance, Commander Samuel Guthrie abandoned his 'date' (rather abruptly, I might add, with not even a goodbye) and hurried to his master's side.

"My lord...." Samuel said, ducking his head in respect. He kept his eyes focused on the floor, and they would remain there until his master acknowledged him. It was the proper thing to do.

[janedoe]

As Warren led her around the dance floor, Jean felt something she barely recognized: she felt completely at ease, maybe even peaceful. It was a rare moment, one that she only hoped would not be fleeting.

"I didn't know you could waltz. You never cease to amaze me."

“And you never cease to flatter me,” she responded, her smile genuine and rare. Although she knew she would be working while attending the party, she had hoped she would get the chance to dance. Dancing brought with it a freedom so seldom experienced.

[Magneto]

"Commander", Magneto acknowledged. His greeting was anything but warm. "I trust you are enjoying yourself?"

The intensity of their last conversation had diminished not at all. Magneto did not speak of it.

He didn't need to.

[Sam Guthrie]

"My duties to the Empire aside, I confess that I have indulged slightly...." Samuel said, "But only slightly."

Well, what was one dance? It wasn't like anyone had ever wanted to dance with him before; or rather, not like anyone had ever wanted to for a genuine reason.

Of course, he wasn't sure whether Tabitha had been genuine or bored, so perhaps he had built up something from nothing.

[magma]

If Amara's presence at the ball had registered in anyone's mind thus far, she would have been surprised. Shocked. Astounded. And thoroughly ashamed. For unlike the throngs of fashionable people in their silks, laces and almost garishly large jewels that she weaved in and out of, she was not here to be seen. She was only a servant and her purpose for the evening, as it was for all evenings but this one especially so, was to ensure that her betters had their refreshment needs fulfilled while interacting with her as little as absolutely necessary. She was to touch nothing, speak to no one, and to tread with extreme care around the room. Accidents may as well be sabotage.

Had Amara possessed a more progressive mind, following all the mandated laws of how to address one's superiors and when it was or was not appropriate to look them in the eye and so on and so on, would have been torture. Rebellion would have been an almost certainty. But Amara was the farthest thing from a radical; she left that sort of thing to Jacob. Her life goal was to be as conventional and inconspicuous as possible. It was true that few things gave her as much pride and sense of accomplishment as knowing that she could blend perfectly into the background when she wasn't needed and step forward when she was. And besides, serving others wasn't all so horrible a life. In fact, there was almost a form of power to be found within it. Though she knew that being a Homo inferior branded her the lowest of the low, Amara couldn't help but feel that without her and the rest of the servants of the world, things would not run nearly as smoothly as they did. Her superiors wouldn't dare get their hands dirty doing the so-called menial work she did on a daily basis and because of that, Amara could only come to one conclusion: her kind was more than just useless space fillers. They were needed. It was another one of her points of pride.

But whatever power Amara believed she possessed was not enough to stir up any desire for more, as even the smallest bit of power was often known to do. She liked her life well enough. She was never at a loss for hearing interesting talk, for being a servant had the advantage of rendering her virtually forgotten. Could it really be considered eavesdropping if people spoke right in front of her as if she wasn't there? Was it her fault that her presence was always ignored? Indeed, in her state of near invisibility, she had the opportunity to see the glamorous lives the rich, famous and royal lived up close, only without the responsibilities that doubtlessly came with such lofty positions as theirs. She had enough to manage as a mere servant; she hated to think how stressful and complex being one of the elite must be. In a way, she almost pitied them. And if the headaches that plagued her would just go away, Amara doubted that there would be nary a person she would trade places with.

Although, she thought with the slightest traces of envy, to wear one of those shimmering gowns even for one fleeting moment would be a secret wish come true. She had often firmly told herself that there was no place for vanity in her life, but now surrounded by finery beyond anything she had ever seen before, Amara found it harder to squelch the tempting picture of herself dressed like a royal. Like a princess' equal.

But Amara didn't believe in dreams turning into reality. Because if she did, it would mean that her strange, convoluted nightmares of fire and her burning flesh were something more serious than what she had always believed. And to Amara's sensible mind, that was just ridiculous.

As several hands suddenly plucked glasses of champagne from her platter, Amara suppressed an inward sigh. Time to refill. She swore it was already the hundredth time she had done so that night. One thing was for certain: the rich sure liked their drinks.

[madrox]

Madrox' burning and passionate alter-ego merely winked at Dazzler. A sly smile crossed his face as he said to her,

"Your loss. I guess you've really grown to like Mr. Drake then. Be careful with her Bobby-boy. She's....spicy."

He sauntered away quietly and looked toward Douglas and...mmmm. That was one fine looking food-mamma. He stepped over and squeezed himself between Doug and Tatiana.

"Excuse me there shortstuff," he said to Doug as he slightly pushed him aside, "but this," he indicated the food, "and this as well," he looked to Tatiana, "look simply...delicious. Excuse me darling, maybe we could ditch your little friend here and you could spend time with a more...impressively statured...man." He kept his voice sweet and sultry, getting very close to Tatiana's face.