Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Something flits through the skies of the Nexus, bobbing and swooping only to climb again, an ecstatic aerial dance. At last, mirth of the moment giving way to some other whim, the flying figure drifts groundward, turning and drifting like a falling leaf until his feet, clad in pointed-toed green suede moccasins alight. Forest green tights hug lean legs all the way up to a bright green tunic, belted with rich brown leather and a bright brass buckle. On his left hip hang a set of pan pipes; on his right, a black-handled knife. An impish grin curls his lips, his eyes sparkle with the promise of mischief, and a pert green cap sits atop his head, crowned by a lone red feather. Could this be the black-suited GQ cover model who makes himself ubiquitous in the better-traveled spaces of the Nexus? Could it be Schön?

It is. "People of the Nexus, friends, in the world from which I hail we stand on the cusp of a special day, a harvest-fest when the walls between worlds grow thin, when masks and costumes are worn to frighten away wicked spirits--or to invite them in on more congenial terms. Today we bid Summer adieu, and raise fire and song to meet the long night! Join me, for an evening to last a lifetime, and a farewell to a season well-loved." His hand rises, pointing to where two bright beacons blaze in the churn of the Nexus' heavens. "Second star to the right, and we'll keep on 'til morning!" Crowing with laughter, he soars for that distant point like an arrow, leaving a trail of sparkling, glittering motes of light for anyone interested to follow.

Perched on the border between the parklands and the residential district, the night sky is like a pillow of iridescent black velvet, on which have been scattered an embarrassment of diamonds. Like an enormous pumpkin, a harvest moon presides over the shimmering vista, orange and plump. The air is cool and crisp, punctuated by the crackling hiss of dry leaves in motion every time a breeze picks up.

At the center of it all sits a stately house of Gothic style, ivy-clad and waiting. A square tower stands vigil over the entryway, tall windows overlooking the flagstone drive looping around a fountain full of water as blue and bright as a tropical sea. In the fountain stands an island, and if one peers closely enough, one might imagine they see figures moving about--on the deck of the tiny ship anchored in a cove, or swimming and splashing in a lagoon, or even creeping through the wooded interior. Of the house, the windows of the wings seem dark, perhaps waiting, but the line of the roof is limned with some glow from beyond, and the faint throb of distant music promises that the evening holds more than surfaces. The door stands open, a silent invitation to every brave soul who passes by.

((Happy Halloween! Enjoy the festivities, threadhopping is encouraged, tag back whenever you have time, and don't worry about missing out--we'll still be here when you get back.)) YouTube Playlist Visualosity Entrance Ballroom Banquet Bonfire Dark Corners

Comments

[brave_heart_verity]

Verity has learned a very important lesson in the past year: never, ever dare Schön to procure something.

Ever.

Since he found pixie dust, or something close enough thereto, Verity's been forced to honor the wager and come dressed as Tinkerbelle. Green dress, wings, and lots of glitter: she's either a fairy or an Edwardian stripper. Her dress is longer than most pixies would wear, but her hair is blonde and she's thinking happy thoughts. That's surely enough of a miracle.

There are some perks to being the Tinkerbelle to his Pan, though: finally, she can see over the crowds! And flying really is exactly as fun as she'd always thought it would be. All in all, it's worth having to go as a blonde (again), but don't tell her boss that.

[fightlikehell]

Wherever she is, Matt will find her. Or she will find him in time. He is wrangling a very darling Miss Bobbi Sox who is a curious little monkey this evening. No monkey would be left unattended especially at a fine to-do. So Matt Murdock has assumed the role of monkey caretaker. Foggy was very helpful in finding this outfit. He might have missed his calling on the theater front. And with no small amount of enthusiasm assured Matt that red is not his only color.

But where to find Verity? He tilts his head this way and that, paying attention to sounds and smells. Not too different from Bobbi's method. Though she has eyes.

[brave_heart_verity]

They make an adorable pair, her little monkey and her man in a big yellow hat. The hat makes it harder for her to find him, and once she does, it's also the best reason for his finding her before she can sneak up on him: giggles, even from midair, are easy to recognize.

"What in the world are you wearing?" She descends enough to give him a hug and leans in under the hat to give him a kiss. "Are you her banana or something?"

Be gentle, Matty, you know what her childhood wasn't like.

[fightlikehell]

That giggling laugh has never been coming to him from such a height. Matt tilts his head up to smile up at her. His arms are careful with the dainty fabric---and wings.

Gentle, always gentle. "I guess that is how they came together at first, yes. I'm the Man in the Yellow Hat. Bobbi is Curious George for tonight." Bobbi recognizes one of her people now. How is she doing the thing that she is doing? Bark! Bark! Matt scoops up his monkey dog so she can get better scritches and scratches.

[brave_heart_verity]

Sure it has--he usually insists on going first when they're on patrol, and their path leads down as often as up. But there's no balcony there... Verity's not feeling as careful with him. His costume will survive a strong hug and eager kiss.

"Oh." Yeah no she's not really sure what he's talking about. But okay, it's a thing. Bobbi gets a smile and scritches. "Well, you two look adorable. Hello Bobbi. What's got you confused, huh? You've seen things fly before."

Bobbi is a great fan of upsies. Flying would be the ultimate upsies!

[fightlikehell]

Usually he has a means of closing the distance fast. Jumping up to get her isn't an option here and now. Matt gladly soaks up her strong embrace and stronger kiss.

"Monkey tamer and monkey." More or less. Bobbi's tail is wagging so, so fast. "And she's bananas over you." Yup. He was waiting to tell her that.

People around them murmur. A few complimenting the color and excited whisper of the character in Verity's direction. She's being admired. "I know you look wonderful, sweetheart." No matter what she wears, he's sure of it.

[brave_heart_verity]

The distance isn't there for long. She's far too eager to be near him again. But not yet, not just yet... after the kiss she lets herself float up and back again, just enough to remind them both who's tethered to the ground and who is not.

"Oh, is that it? Then you got the costumes backwards," she teases. Bobbi's going to be a little doggie helicopter if she keeps that up. The joke is horrible and gets the laugh he's expecting. She loves it. "Aw, well, the feeling's mutual."

Is she being admired? She doesn't notice. This happy moment has her whole attention. "I always do, to you," she reminds him fondly. "Are you thinking happy thoughts?"

[fightlikehell]

To be in her presence, ah, that's the gift always. And besides, they are at a party. Both here to see and be seen. His head stays tilted her way, no glasses so his eyes are soft focus and adoring her way.

"There's always next year, right?" Or some other heavily costumed occasion that doesn't involve hand to hand combat. Matt pets Bobbi, with or without the gift of flight she is glad to be here. That makes three of them!

Happy thoughts? "Yes. You're my happy thought. Why? Does your costume come with special features?"

[brave_heart_verity]

It makes her knees flutter when he trusts her with that look in his eyes. Tonight, she doesn't have to worry about falling, nor his hearing the way her heart flutters and stumbles into a new rhythm.

"Always next year," she agrees. Bobbi gets one more scritch before Ver's hand falls to the pouch at her hip. The pixie dust comes out sparkling, chiming softly, and floating on its own breeze. "Yes, in fact. Don't you get the reference?"

When the dust is dispersed she has her hand out to catch them. Just in case.

[losthunter]

After coming down to the ballroom, Hunter has no problems finding Verity -- since she is flying around here and there. He has to smile, watching her joy is quite infectious.

Tonight, the tattoo-covered man is dressed as a satyr, with a few modifications to the costume to compliment the twisting vine tattoos that cover his arms, chest and head.

"Are you getting many dance requests from above the crowds?" He asks.

[brave_heart_verity]

If she weren't seeing it with her own eyes, Verity would never believe Hunter's out and about with so much skin and ink exposed. Something has certainly changed--for the better. And it's making her smile so, so brightly.

"Mostly people only love me for my pixie dust," she admits with a brief laugh while she lowers herself into the crowd. "You look amazing! Is it safe to hug you?" Showing is one thing, but being willing to be touched right now is another.

[losthunter]

"Of course it is safe." Hunter reaches up to guide Verity closer and into his arms for a big, tight Satyr hug.

[brave_heart_verity]

Satyr hugs are not something she's generally going to be excited about--usually, it's something she'd be trying to avoid. But this one seems just right, so she'll settle into it with a content sigh. She is such a lucky, lucky woman. "Mm, this doesn't mean you're suddenly a skirt-chaser, does it?"

[losthunter]

His arms settle around Verity with love and friendship.

"Not unless there is a handsome man, who is wearing that skirt."

[brave_heart_verity]

"I think they prefer the term 'kilt'. Haven't seen any yet, but the night is young." If she could help give him a magical first date, that would (hopefully!) make them both happy. He's too kind to be so lonely.

[losthunter]

"What if I spot a Drag Queen." Hunter chuckles in response. He is lucky to have such good friends who want to help him find happiness.

"I have heard stories of fairies dancing with Satyrs before. Shall we prove those stories to be true." He gestures to the dance floor waiting for them.

[brave_heart_verity]

"Hmm. Then I guess the correct turn is 'your majesty'." She plays at the seriousness she used to wear by default. It doesn't last.

"I think we should. But do we want to dance on the ground, or in the air?" Satyrs might be creatures of base earth, but everyone dreams of flying.

[stands_for_something]

Steve knows that it's a poor sort of guest who lurks out by the bonfire all night, so after he's enjoyed its rainbow flames for a while he comes in, to drift around the periphery of the dance floor. Whether he's wearing a costume or that's just how someone his age tends to dress is a question left to onlookers to answer.

[brave_heart_verity]

"Oh. My. God."

Now, keeping in mind who her god is, that's a particularly worrying phrase coming from Verity. And it is entirely Steve's fault for somehow managing to find a costume that makes him even cooler. (Because she was not, it seems, enough of a fan already?)

Wait. Should she be trying to be cool now? Too late, he already knows she's a flailing mess. But tonight she's a flailing mess with excellent hair and fake wings, so... there's really nowhere to hide.

"Captain Rogers?"

[stands_for_something]

The old man turns at his name, and if he overheard the remark that preceded it, he's not letting it show. "Miss Willis," he replies, with a warm smile. "Won't you be my neighbor?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"Uh." Smooth there, Ver. Totally going to convince him you know what you're doing acting like that. "Um. Yes? Please. Thank you." At least she's flailing politely?

And standing on the ground again, beside him but not too close. "That's a fantastic costume. You look good in red."

[stands_for_something]

His smile only brightens at her anxiety, a silent reassurance, promising that she's doing just fine. And she knows it's not a lie. "Thank you. I was worried it might be a little too subtle. Pun costumes are usually pretty bad, after all." Extending a hand, he asks, "could I have the pleasure of a dance?"

[brave_heart_verity]

Later, when she's thinking back on this, she'll wonder if he'd smile at her like that no matter how badly she was embarrassing herself. Not that she'd mind...

"'Usually' doesn't apply here." Even putting aside that she's unlikely to ever think he could do much of anything wrong, she's certain this costume was an A+ idea. The offer to dance has her grinning like a loon and she takes his hand before the words are out of her mouth. "Yes, please!"

[stands_for_something]

He might. He's never been the sort to try to embarrass someone doing their best.

"Well, that's my mind at ease, then. Thank you," he replies, drawing her out onto the dance floor. He may not be a perpetually-young super-soldier anymore, but a lifetime's worth of grace, agility, and even confidence have let him become an excellent dancer (Jarvis also helped), who leads without pushing, making the steps themselves a partnership, a conversation. "It's quite the impressive costume you've put together, too."

[brave_heart_verity]

Youth, as they say, is wasted on the young. He's an excellent dancer. Kind and considerate in the dance, like he is in most things. It's easy to fall into step with him and never want it to stop. (A familiar road and one she knows how to step off of when the time comes.) With him leading so well, she can relax and enjoy the dance. She doesn't have his years of experience, but she has a touch of grace.

"Oh, thank you. I'm Tinkerbelle tonight." She shifts her shoulders to make the wings flutter slightly. "Pixie dust and happy thoughts optional."