Holiday Ball at the Skylark

[birthright_npc]

The grand ballroom of the Skylark Hotel was awash in shades of forest green and gold. The charity ball had been arranged to benefit a local children's hospital, and so a large percentage of the proceeds from the door tickets and bar would be donated to renovate the facility. A two-story Christmas tree towered over the buffet tables of festive finger foods and chocolate fountain, and people had placed unwrapped toys under the limbs to be delivered to the hospital the next day. Champagne flowed freely. There were two stages for the live jazz musicians that would play all night. Santa's scantily clad elves wandered about the room with trays of shrimp and caviar. A dance floor took up the center of the space underneath a gleaming chandelier and there were beautifully decorated round tables on the edges of the room.

The ticket price was manageable, and a few tickets had gone out free for radio promotions and the like.

Luckily for the undead, the decor did not include wall-to-wall mirrors, though there were a few on the high ceiling.

In various corners, Vegas performance artists entertained to ooohs and aaahs. For instance, there was a man eating a gleaming sword in the corner.

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[rhiannon_lee]

‘If you value your life, you won’t bring me anything with a bow on the ass.’

And so with those parting words of wisdom, Rhiannon had closeted herself in the changing room of a dress boutique and waited for an armload of gowns to be tossed over the door. After five wardrobe failures and repeated requests for help with the zippers, she had come away with an ensemble that wouldn’t give her high school prom nightmares: a figure-hugging gown in black lace, scandalously short and with only one sleeve. She wore it with stilettos and teardrop earrings.

Rhiannon entered the ballroom intent on just one thing: a glass of alcohol. She could make it to a third or fourth drink before the shoes turned against her.

Cian was on his way. Since she lived near the venue and needed to make a last-minute purchase on her way to the ball, they had agreed to meet there. She purchased a glass of champagne and sipped it on the fringes of the activity while she adjusted to her surroundings.

[deannas]

Deanna loved supporting childrens' hospitals. She may be an undead killing machine, but she had a soft spot for newborns. And not because they were allegedly tasty. (She'd heard the blood, while coppery, also had a hint of vanilla). She wouldn't admit it to anyone, of course. 'Never show weakness' was a motto. But if you'd ever earned her trust, and got her severely drunk, she might tell you about the human child she was forced to abandon at the beginning of unlife.

The redhead, getting a heads-up of the theme in advance, came wrapped in a tight, green strapless dress with a pale red sash around the waist. It reached to her heels, with a very long slit to her upper calf. Thin gold earrings completed the look, reflected off pale skin and up swept hair.

She playfully nibbled on a cracker with caviar, and debated giving the elf her telephone number.

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon got the all-too-familiar sensation of ghostly fingers at the nape of her neck. The Council said it would be a faint tingle, but to her, it just felt like someone walking on her grave. Vampire. It wasn’t a total surprise. The literature was correct in that many older vampires loved finery, and this ball with its silver trumpets and expensive champagne definitely qualified. Over a rim of crystal and bubbles, she let her eyes wander until they came upon a redhead.

Bingo.

A little smiled played at the corners of her mouth.

The truth was, Rhiannon loved running into the undead at soirees. It was the only time she was permitted to talk to them without having to also consider the best tactical advantage. In a way, slayers and vampires were meant for one another; they would always find one another fascinating.

She walked up alongside her and followed the redhead’s gaze. “Nah. You don’t want her… she’s anemic,” she said lightly.

[cian_oneill]

Cian knew they were meant to meet at the hotel, but as he'd been late getting away from work he decided to park the bike at Rhiannon's, change, then make his way to the hotel.

When he arrived in the lobby he quickly checked his reflection in the mirrored wall in the foyer, ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his tie then patted his pocket. He nodded to the woman on the door as he handed her his ticket, then moved into the ballroom, comfortable the main doors he'd just come through were easily opened, and checking the closest fire exits. The events of Hallowe'en were still fresh in his mind, and while a charity event like this was a little more well attended by the local law enforcement, he still wanted to make sure he knew what there was in the way of exits.

Checking around the room he saw the event was already well-attended, which was quietly pleasing. Although his brother and sister never needed the services of the hospital, he always figured it was a facility well deserving of support. And if it meant he and Rhiannon had a reason to dress up and enjoy themselves, there was even more reason to support it. He looked around for the Slayer while he sipped on the scotch and dash of soda he'd bought from the bar.

[rhiannon_lee]

On her way to the Were, the brunette swung by the bar to purchase a vodka tonic with a twist of lime. She milled through the people with her highball glass held aloft until there was a clear path to Cian, who looked incredibly handsome in his suit. He had to purchase or rent it, that much Rhiannon knew because she’d seen his closet. The same was true for her. She wouldn’t be surprised if both of them had left the tags on by accident.

She took her time walking to him, a good deal taller in a killer pair of heels. Long hair was piled atop her head, which left her neck bare. Rhiannon wore one piece of jewelry, a brilliant flash of bejeweled color on her wrist. The lace dress felt like second skin. The man had seen her naked, but somehow this get-up was the greater exposure.

[cian_oneill]

Cian saw her head over a group of people, his eyes remaining on her as she made her way through that throng, finally breaking free of the obscurity of their bodies.

And was he pleased when that happened. There was no doubting how attractive she was to him regardless of her attire, or state of dress or undress, but the way she was dressed when she did get clear of the obstructions was something on a completely different level, something he hadn't seen of her before. His eyes raked up and down, from the top of the coiffed hair atop her head, to the tips of the heels that gave her already shapely legs definition enough to send a sculptor into rapture. As she came closer his eyes slowed their travels back up her body till they reached her eyes, a grin on his face and flicker of green and gold in his eyes that told her without any doubt just how much he'd enjoyed that appearance.

"Y' didn' warn me y' were out t' Slay t'night, w'out liftin' a finger," he growled softly into her ear, leaning forward to lightly brush a kiss against her cheek.

[stakes_and_daggers]

Wearing a black one-piecer of a party dress made someone like Katherine feel... Weird. She wasn't used to it. Even if the truth was that social gatherings hadn't been an entirely foreign concept to her, during more human years. Still, changing her usual choice of wardrobe wasn't an impossibility. Spending money on charity, though? Yeah, fuck that... She was going in through a window.

Emerging in through kitchen, the vampiress moved briskly enough through to where the more legitimate guests would be, to escape too much notice from the busy staff. In the process, giving thanks she hadn't initially landed in, say, a pot of soup.

A place like this, though, wasn't her typical kind of haunt. In fact, there were several reasons she would have usually avoided it in favour of somewhere - or someone - else. When there was a job, on the other hand? Yeah, that was a reason to show up.

Scanning the crowd, she just needed to find the right individual.

[tiny_dancer81]

Someone in the vicinity was wearing too much perfume.

Normally Theresa wasn't the charitable sort, but even she couldn't resist the idea of a big party with food and booze. The fact that she kind of hated the holiday was not the point. Liquor made everything easier.

The bubbles in the champagne tickled her nose, and the diminutive vampire wondered how much it cost for a single night in a place like this. And tonight, she was going to stay out of the frigging elevator.

She was wearing something simple, a dark blue dress that she'd gotten on sale. She hoped tonight didn't suck.

[stakes_and_daggers]

Less than a century old, maybe, but the other vampiress held enough experience to be making conclusions about most of the faces she could see. Certain choices of clothing accessories, the way they held themselves or even styling of cosmetics... For a vampire's heightened senses, being a decent judge of character in her mortal existence meant it was a skill which had only improved down the years.

Conversely, being able to smell as much as she could, meant that an over-abundence of something like perfume - even in the veritable sea of artificual scents at play in this hunting ground - meant it had that much more of a distasteful impact. Katherine giving a sudden reverse sniff, like a shark which had just been unexpectedly thumped on the noce. Looking away to the more pleasant aromatic smell of champagne, then the young woman who was sipping from the glass of it.

Damn, she looked tiny... It gave Katherine a reminder, though - swiftly acquiring a glass of the same from a passing server. Swishing the contents before taking a more prolonged look at the girl's face. She was another brunette, after all... But, no. Not the one she was looking for.

"Sorry, thought you were someone else."

[blackirish]

While he would be more comfortable in jeans and a casual shirt, sometimes it was good to dress up in a tux and show the flag. Mike made the rounds, chatting with people he knew from the business community as well as newcomers. This sort of event was good PR for both his bars since there was a wide cross section of the community here, and you never knew who might be interested.

Also it helped establish him as a 'pillar of the community', and people would be less likely to ask uncomfortable questions if hints of his other activities surfaced. Not that he was ashamed of either his black market or IRA ties, but the government frowned on both. He didn't sell drugs and he wasn't a pimp, if the government wanted to get their panties in a bunch about what he did sell, well, he'd made a point to cultivate the friendship of several good attorneys.

[ghargreaves]

It was a short walk from his hotel to the venue hosting the charity Christmas Ball and Gerald hadn't been taking his usual daily constitutional since arriving in the mid-western city, so he walked the distance between the two establishments, his tuxedo having been delivered back to his room by the bell hop in adequate time for him to change and enjoy an aperitif in the bar of his hotel beforehand.

He slid his hand into his coat pocket to remove his ticket, before handing his overcoat and cane to the hat check girl, tucking the returned tag into his vest pocket. He had not been to a Christmas ball since the death of his wife, and while it was difficult, he felt that perhaps on the other side of the world, in a culture such as this, he may be able to return to this type of event without too many memories being dragged to the surface. He entered the ballroom and looked around, making his way to the bar and purchasing a gin and tonic.

He spied another tux wearer and raised his glass to him, in salute, then taking a sip before making his way across to join him.

[wolfs_daughter]

Echo felt weird. But dress-up clothes always made her feel weird.

She'd compromised with herself by choosing pants and a blouse with actual designer labels. Buying tickets to give money to charity was one thing, but she drew the line at putting on a dress. It was the only way she'd be even a little comfortable.

There was already a crowd, even though the evening had just started, and the hybrid bought a glass of champagne before joining the milling throng. This was all part of her attempt to come out of her shell.

[blackirish]

Mike returned his salute then took a sip of his own drink as the older man approached. He couldn't recall seeing him before, but part of the purpose of attending the shindig was to mingle and meet new people.

"Hello," He greeted the other tux wearer when he came into range for polite conversation. "Having a good time?"

[birthright_npc]

Mel, or Melody as her father insisted she be called when working one of his catering gigs, returned to the kitchen with an empty tray and dumped it on the counter with the others awaiting a wipe over and refill. She looked around to see if she could see Maddy, but couldn't spot her in the kitchen, so collected another tray of finger food, a handful of paper napkins and put on her 'happy' face before getting into the flow of foot traffic heading toward the 'exit' door of the kitchens.

Back out in the ball room she smiled and offered the tray to the glittering crowd, wondering silently to herself if she could ever attend one of these events in something other than the elf-waitress costume she was wearing. She had to stifle a grin when a woman wearing a dress that reminded her of the dolly toilet roll covers her next door neighbour made, came over and started to help herself to three, no four, of the mini spring rolls on the platter Melody was carrying.

"Serviette ma'am?" She held out the stack she was holding, and gave herself a tick in the 'win' column when the woman took two and proceeded to pile some more of the tasty morsels onto them. When she was done Melody moved away, fairly certain that if she tried really hard she could maybe create a dress that was more hideous, but she would definitely have to work on it. She glanced around, looking for Maddy as she approached another cluster of people who were looking her way hungrily.

[maddy_ricks]

The girl in question was five meters away and approaching fast.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow…” She hobbled closer to Melody and attempted to talk without moving her lips. “Who sanctioned these curly-toe shoes? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind. Man, my dogs are barking.” The brunette’s feet were accustomed to high-top Converse sneakers and whatever else was on sale at the thrift shop. These felt-covered elf shoes offered no support, were slippery on the bottom, and pinched the toes into a triangular shape. Worst of all, they had jingle bells.

Her tray had cucumber slices with smears of cheese on top. They were the least-popular offering and so she didn’t need a refill just yet.

[birthright_npc]

"I don't know, but if someone calls me 'tinkle toes' again I might put a hex on them!" Melody replied under her breath so the patrons around them couldn't hear. "Poppa said the uniforms were the charity people's idea, something about it being for kids. I think they got the damned sizes for kids too!" she added, tugging at the end of the sleeve which was again already creeping up towards her elbows. "Either that or elves have some really short arms and big boobs!"

[deannas]

Santa was a dead man walking.

Here she was, playing nice, even making eye contact with Rhiannon while the Slayer met up with her date (she could smell the pheromones across the room; those two were made for each other), and deciding that, for shits and giggles, she'd go and sit in the jolly fat man's lap.

If only she hadn't promised not to leave any bodies in her wake this evening.

Genitalia, however. She didn't specify that.

[daniel_stacy]

“Want me to break his arm for you?”

Judging from the look on his sire’s face, Santa had gotten fresh. Too bad it wasn’t Mrs. Claus, he reasoned, because she would’ve welcomed that advance and asked for more. But since perverted St. Nick had done the cowardly thing to a lady, it was only right to offer to crush his bones or dislocate a shoulder.

Daniel had donned a classic pinstripe suit, a tailor-made wardrobe staple from his former life. It still fit. The shoes had been shined. His hair was combed. He had shaved and put on cologne. The one concession to comfort was a bottle of beer.

He lifted the beer in mock salute to Santa, who knew he had been busted and was starting to sweat.

[deannas]

"Whoever said chivalry was undead, was..." Deanna did the math. "Actually right."

Another glass of champagne was in her hand. She was tempted to throw it in St. Nick's face, but he'd probably enjoy that.

She leaned in close to her childe, actively not choking on his cologne.

Not that it truly bothered her; on another night she would've done it just to get under his skin.

"Only if you're willing to get blood on that fabulous suit." She had to grudgingly admit, Daniel cleaned up well. "If you dressed like this all the time, you could be a real lady-killer." The redhead offered up a wicked grin.

[imogens_fire]

Imogen loved Christmas, aside from the Fourth of July it was her favorite time of the year.

As a girl she'd liked it because she was greedy for presents, thinking only about herself as children often did. When she grew older she saw how the season brought out the best in people, and how helping others could be its own reward. Why it happened was irrelevant in her eyes, whether it was because of a divine called Jesus being born or just because it was the right thing to do, the outcome was the same.

So when she'd heard about the charity ball she'd dipped into her (admittedly still meager) savings and purchased a ticket. There wouldn't be any additional gifts purchased beyond what she'd already bought to give to Toys for Tots, but at least she could do a little good here.

Besides, who knew what sort of contacts she could make here? The Skylark was the hot commodity in Vegas right now, everyone who was anyone was going to be there. The young woman accepted a drink from a passing server and appreciated the fact that she wasn't one of the models on display for a change. Working in the Jubilee! show over at Bally's was great experience, but working six days a week was going to get old.

She took a sip of champagne and surveyed the room, content to people watch for now before making a decision of where to start the mingling process.

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon sipped her drink by the bar. Based on the paucity of color on her glass, she knew she’d worn off her lipstick. She smiled at Cian and brushed a fleck of gold glitter from his shoulder. It wasn’t hard to come by in a place decorated in sparkling garlands. “Have you got a date for New Year’s?” she asked. The slayer bent her left knee and gave it a rest from the pressure of fashionable footwear. She rubbed the shoe against her calf muscle. “If not, I’d like to put in an application.”

[cian_oneill]

"I'd 'ave t' check m' calendar, make sure m' social secretary hasn't booked me up f' anything," he said, teasingly. His arm lay along the bar, hand lightly resting on the small of her back as they both took a break from the throng that filled the dance floor.

After the auction, which had been MC'd by a very capable individual who had managed to raise the bids very easily on each of the major items, it had been announced that they'd raised well into six figures, which had made all the attendees cheer. The mood of the room was lifted even more than it had been before, and people were letting their hair down and enjoying the festivities.

"But y' know I c'n always rearrange it, if needed," Cian added, giving her a wink.

[rhiannon_lee]

“Ohhh, that sounds like a lot of trouble,” Rhiannon said with a wince. “But if you insist.”

She twisted her earring and watched as the rock band kicked off the second half of their set. It was a cover of a Rolling Stones tune, one a good deal of people knew if the enthusiastic response was an indicator. Bemused, she watched a cadre of over-the-hill men in loose neck ties cut a rug. A toupee had gone askew.

“Okay.” She handed the Were her vodka tonic. “Hold this for a minute? I need to use the restroom.”

[deannas]

If it wasn't bad enough for St. Nick to jam his candy cane into her thigh, now Deanna picked up the scent of blood in the air.

She scanned the room for the source, made near impossible at first from the thick air of perfumes and cologne, roasted meats and spilled alcohol.

But there she was. Under the mistletoe. The Slayer she'd engaged earlier. The redhead saw blood on Rhiannon's hand. It was thick and wet.

"I promise no bodies in my wake tonight."

Goddammit.

First thought: push her away across the floor and get to the brunette. Usher her outside and flag a cab to send her to hospital.

Downside: boyfriend (who had to know who his girlfriend was) might think she was the attacker. Misunderstandings flare up. Vampire gets defensive. People die.

Second thought. Follow the trail of blood, and maybe find the attacker.

Deanna nodded to the slayer, and ran. Upended several trays of food and drink in a blur too fast to follow. In a moment she was at the origin point: the ladies' bathroom, where she caught an interesting scent leading outward, towards the exit. Another like her.

Time to bring out the claws.

[stakes_and_daggers]

Fangs in neck... That was how Katherine preferred it. Unfortunately, that was not in the terms of the contract - nor compatible with the environment. She wasn't thinking too far ahead, though. The brunette's mind was firmly rooted on the here-and-now of the need to get out, undetected. Not because she couldn't deal with unwanted human attention, but because it was a matter of prestige - a really professional hit. The ancient game of 'counting coup'.

At times like this, the vampiress later turned to wonder if her heart was still capable of beating, if the excitement would be getting to her. If her hands would shake. If she would be out of the very breath her body had no use for. Instead, her manner was calm and collected, putting distance between herself and the seriously wounded Slayer, as quickly as their collective circumstances allowed for.

Merry Christmas, motherfuckers...

She was most of the way across the room by the time Rhiannon's internal organs were paying the price. A silent count-down playing in Katherine's mind as she made it out to the open night air. No screams yet. Good. Every moment allowing her to spread the distance until turning the corner. An alley... That was what she needed. If it was even possible to find one in Las Vegas. But Katherine did her homework. Had scouted out possible ingress and egress routes. Just needed to make it to the shadows, then could twist her way up a fire escape as practically as this damned skirt would allow for and head to a roof.