trans_9 | Enchanted Aquatica---the Prom [WIDE OPEN Y'ALL]

Entry tags:

Enchanted Aquatica---the Prom [WIDE OPEN Y'ALL]

The day had finally arrived for her big event, and Starfire couldn't be happier---or more nervous, actually. She was certainly not an expert on the inner workings of a prom, but it couldn't be too terribly complicated, right? As long as the people could eat, dance, and talk, it should be a reasonable success.

With that in mind, her decorations sprung from her mind into the large dome all around her, transforming a grey Sensorium into a beautiful underwater world, one with clear waters and free from the possibility of a shark attack.

The first change was the scent of the air, shifting into the comforting salty scent of the seas. Then the ground beneath her feet became a hardened sandstone, maintaining the gritty texture while remaining easy to walk upon---except for the smooth dance floor, of course. The grey dome transformed into a flowing bluish-green, rippling all around with fish of all colors passing in the background. Some of the 'sky' faded into a violet tone over the dance floor, lit by glowing circular lights in every color. Suspended in midair, they almost looked like motionless fireflies, though they sometimes swayed in tune with songs.

Tables arose from coral in all colors, rising from the ground and twisting to provide a flattened surface on the very top---rounded ones for guests, and long tables off to the side containing shell-bowls of food. Chairs were large floating clam shells with well cushioned interiors, some large enough to hold two people. More comfortable spongy places to sit were also littered across the area, notably by the large shell-shaped enclosure that was the promised swimming pool. It too was lit by the floating lights, providing what she hoped was a romantic atmosphere.

Finally, the glowing stage above the dance floor couldn't help but attract attention with its chairs. Six royal thrones and one plush chair of all colors directly in the middle rested in the back of the stage, leaving the front open for announcements. Just off to the side of the stage stood the DJ's table, with even that machine painted to match the soft underwater glow of the scenery.

Everything finally seemed pleasing to Starfire. With one last change, dressing herself in the formal attire of the prom, she sent out the signal to everyone and waited. She hoped they would have a wonderful time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She wiped her brow with the folded napkin and turned to face the paladin. Sure, she looked like a neurotic wreck, but there was little she could do to change that at this moment in time.

"I might have to take that offer, Mr. Do-good," she thought, then followed it up with a weak smile.

Now that she had said her part, she took a moment to look him over in the low-lit room. Saying that he was 'dressed to the nines' would be a gross understatement; he'd certainly destroyed anyone's hope that they would be the best dressed at this shindig.

"My, my. Someone is wearing his Sunday's best. I'm not sure which version I prefer, though I'm the longer I look, the more I'm becoming partial to it (interestingly enough, that last, little tidbit would have usually been an unintended thought)."

She, herself was wearing a white, above-knee cocktail dress with a black belt wrapped around her waist.

"You don't even need to ask," he said. "Any time you need to, you come in."

He wouldn't extend the offer to someone he didn't trust, but for someone he did, it was just one more thing he could do to keep her from pain. That was the most important thing.

"Don't get too used to the look! It's all fake, you know." Mar waved a hand at their general surroundings to indicate the sensorium was responsible. "But we ex-historians learned to look good! It was, after all, the only reason anyone ever listened to us. It's a lot easier to listen to a historian babble on about their latest revision of the First War if he's easy on the eyes or her gown is cut so low it's showing her navel.

"Not that you need to rely on that kind of trick to draw the eye!" he said, admiring her outfit in turn. "If I ever write a history of everything I've seen, I'm devoting a chapter to how you look right now and titling it 'The Day 'Simple and Elegant' Reached Its Peak'."

"Now if they went and dressed in such a way, what would be the point of listening when there's (presumably) something much more entertaining to indulge in? I'm familiar with the sensorium trick, though."

She tapped the side of her head with a slender finger and smiled rather confidently, considering the wince she failed to hide. "With psionics, I can fool the mind in the same manner as these sensoriums do." Granted, when she wasn't using it for telepresence, its other uses had been...dubious in nature.

"I'd be interested in reading a historical record of events from your point of view (with many hilarious writer comments and footnotes, please), though I'd say you should get your fill of elegant simplicity. I am (so) much more at home in galactic jumpsuits, after all (a comfort person; a fashionista's worst nightmare, I'm afraid)."

"I think I'd probably get censored," he said. "Heck, after the third multi-paragraph diatribe about the general idiocy of whichever given leader did something boneheaded or shortsighted, but was beloved by his people, I'd be LUCKY if I was only censored. And not forced to hide at the bottom of a dungeon, constantly being hunted down by five-man teams devoted to killing me for my loot."

He finally took a seat with her, which he did quite casually and comfortably despite the formal robes. So long as he told them to not rip... "Luckily for me, I still think you look pretty cute in a jumpsuit. Besides, you can always just use those mind powers to make me think you're in something amazing, it seems!"

She didn't understand everything that he spoke of, the the portions she did made her grin. "Hm...presumably medieval-style monarchies abound there, then? Quite illegal where I'm from to forcefully stifle the words of a protester (though it would be silly to assume it doesn't happen). Having superheroes as the only reliable source of keeping the multitudinous supply of D-list supervills at bay really tends to give them plenty of leeway (to lie, lie, lie)."

She seemed bitter about something but she didn't mention it any further. Instead, she slid to the side to offer the paladin ample room to sit beside her, though her hands were still hidden beneath the lengthy tablecloth.

Still riddled with anxiousness (and pain) with her current situation, she'd been wringing her hands obsessively, leaving her no choice but to wipe her sweaty palms on the underside of the tablecloth ever so often. She found it just a tad hilarious that he was mentioning her as being 'cute' when what she currently did was anything but.

"Ah yes, I could. You see, the mind is a very complex organ but quite vulnerable as well. Just as I could piggyback your sensorium and share in the sensations you receive from any form of sense-based input, I can also manipulate those same things as a form of telepresence, or in other words your mind would think I'm physically there, despite it all playing out in your head. The same could be done with memories (though that's a bit trickier, given that your mind might change them to cope with the ah...'intrusion')."

"Erm, sort of. The Alliance went more for that sort of thing... the Horde generally tended towards a rule of the fittest."

As he sat, he touched her on the shoulder momentarily. Though he kept his lighthearted tones, that was an acknowledgment of her own problems, and maybe something else to focus on.

And if that didn't work, there were words. "Oh, I know! I've fought more than one monstrosity that got in there to manipulate perceptions and beliefs. One of the Faceless was particularly good at it. It could cloak your allies from you, and replace them with shadow figures that had their form and powers, but were hostile. It was as if in the middle of the fight, the people you were fighting beside suddenly turned on you."

An appreciative smile lingered on her face at the small brush of contact and she let out a small puff of air in a steadying sigh.

"Hm. Sounds like a creature my brother would have appreciated (loved). I can't say I'm too keen on the idea of controlling someone against their will, though I will admit that it's a very effective (very wrong) technique to use."

"Well, the Faceless are about as eldritch-evil-abomination-blight as you can get outside of the Old Gods, and Yogg-Saron had the whole 'visions' thing down pretty well. So it's not like these guys were on the side of right and righteousness." He shrugged easily. "Although really it occurs to me that portraying a lovely girl in a stunning outfit might have been a better tactic, since here I am not dead from the ones they used!"

"Ah, those Lovecraftian, antediluvian, star-spawn from beyond, creatures? (Figures)." She scoffed in mock-skepticism. "Are you saying it would have been far easier to defeat you if you thought you were presented with a cute girl in a short dress?"

"It couldn't have made things worse for them, since what they DID try didn't work," he said with a wink.

She laughed, grateful that he'd showed up when he did. Even if it felt like fireworks were exploding in her head at any given moment, she was still able to talk, laugh and have fun. It certainly made the experience bearable.

"Really, now? I'll have to remember that if you ever need to be taken down at some point in time. What's your favorite color? For effectiveness' sake, you know."

If his spells worked against that sort of thing, he'd have cast them!

"Define 'taken down'," he said, winking. "I'm partial to green, but blue is also quite effective."

"In a strictly PG manner. Maybe PG-13 if you're lucky (or unlucky, as it were)." Not that he would have known much about MPAA ratings.

At this point she found it just a bit difficult to avoid going along with his flirting, intentional or not. Either way, she found it fairly amusing.

The corner of her lips tugged into a smirk and she crossed her legs, folding her hands atop them. The previously white cocktail dress was now a rich, navy blue, with the red belt switching to that of white, accordingly.

"Ah, I suppose you'd just be a 'sitting duck' at this moment in time, hm?"

The sudden approval (among other things) now flooding his mind ought to be good enough an answer! "Wow. Nice!"

Very articulate. If he were more capable of expressing his thoughts, he'd have said out loud that given her lighter skin tone and hair color, the deeper blue added a certain maturity, as opposed to the more innocent white, and definite sexiness. But maybe the fact that he COULDN'T ramble on was a nice compliment too!

Oh it was, though the simplicity in his reply was probably for the best. This way she didn't have to actually feel bashful by his compliments.

"My, thanks for the appreciation (and kind words). Despite my shaky focus, now that I'm all dressed up, I might as well take advantage of it. I think I can manage one dance without deteriorating into a spaztastic ball of nerves (or at least, here's hoping). So...ah, humor me?"

"I might be humoring you, but you'll be honoring me," he said, immediately rising just a little too fast to be perfectly graceful. He made up for that, though, in the bow he immediately delivered to her, low and elegant. Then he offered her a hand to aid her in rising, however much or little she might desire.

She placed her hand in his and stood, then ran her free hand through her wavy, flaxen tresses. With just a little bit of mental preparation, this would actually be enjoyable. More so than the last party/dance that involved copious amounts of liquor and off-key mental ballads.

"You tell me, Maridian. What's the most popular dance amongst your people?"

There was no easy way to answer "that one from Napoleon Dynamite". So he didn't.

"We had a penchant for classical ballroom dancing. Not that I think you're familiar with the dances..."

He grinned quite brightly. "But I bet you can read from my mind what it entails as we go, right?"

Despite seeing the discomfort and pain she was in right now, and seeing the very real downsides of her power... he still thought it was pretty awesome.

"Exactly! It will spare your feet some pain if I do."

A confident brow raised ever-so-slightly along with a smirk to match. "Besides that, how impressed are you going to be if I manage to faithfully pull off a dance I've never seen?"

"My dear," he said quite grandly, "I always expect amazing things from you. You've taught me to, after all!"

"Is that so? My, I've been doing a very good job, then. Let's see where the end of the night will take us, then."

She began shuffling through his memories that had any mention of ballroom dancing, though she ignored the events that occurred in irrelevant memories. He needed some privacy, at least.

There were a few, some many years back. He clearly hadn't done any recently -- given how much easier her memories were to access than his own, she might actually do better than him!

She picked through some of the (rather sparse) memories and took out the bits and pieces she could make it. It did let her realized that she was completely, inappropriately dressed for such a dance, but that hardly mattered at this point.

With a smile and a nod, she looked up to Maridian to signal that yep, she was ready to show what would most likely be the equivalent of a toddler's grace at ballet.

Well, maybe not that bad; things always were easier to gloss over when it seemed like it was intentionally terrible or pathetically horrible. If it was either, at least they could laugh about it later.

The most important thing was that they enjoyed themselves, right?

Even if it was a disaster, they could laugh about it. (He liked that about her.)

He took her hand in his, placed the other on her waist, and with a smile took the lead in the dance.

She followed his movements as best as she could, and for the most part she was successful. There were a few moments in where she stumbled, but quickly caught herself. They were accompanied by a "Shhh," as if her sub-par footwork was a secret that he wasn't supposed to let anyone else on.

"I haven't had to do something like this since high school. Generally, bad karaoke is my thing (never mind that I can't actually sing aloud)."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject