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Cinna Thompson had almost single handedly pulled the prom together. The ballroom was decorated with festoons of floating flowers. Stars hung from the ceiling, each set to sparkle as if they were properly in the sky. The outskirts of the room were set with small round tables that could accommodate one or two couples. A table of refreshments was guarded at all times by Seamus Morgendorfer and a rotating cast of other faculty who volunteered to chaperon for the evening.
A glittery ballot box stood next to the entrance where students were set to write down their chosen prom king and queen and drop their tickets into the box. Students began to stream in after dinner to quiet music playing over the speakers. The band, a local group called Vampira was scheduled to begin playing around 7:30.
Needless to say it was going to be an excellent evening.
[OOC: Hop in where you will. Save for prom court, which we'll work on once all the votes are in.]
A glittery ballot box stood next to the entrance where students were set to write down their chosen prom king and queen and drop their tickets into the box. Students began to stream in after dinner to quiet music playing over the speakers. The band, a local group called Vampira was scheduled to begin playing around 7:30.
Needless to say it was going to be an excellent evening.
[OOC: Hop in where you will. Save for prom court, which we'll work on once all the votes are in.]
"Maybe you should spike the punch," she said with a smirk. "I don't remember what drunk freshmen get up to."
"I don't mind if you pass out on me. Then I can tell everyone not only have I been in your panties but that we've also slept together." He winked at her again and knew he'd crossed over the line where she was comfortable. He leaned back lazily. "Not much talent on the floor tonight," he said turning the subject from her. "It's as if they dressed for every dance the school offers but prom."
She looked out at the other students milling about at Luka's comment, and could see that his opinion was clearly shared. Cinna Thompson was running around, yelling at people to go change their shoes or to put on ties, and getting quite red in the face explaining to people the precise definition of 'formal dress'.
She brought her feet out from under the table and looked at her shoes. "I'm surprised so many girls are wearing heels." She didn't own any, and had never thought that was strange because they were horrible and uncomfortable little torture devices. But looking around, almost every other girl in the room seemed to be subjecting themselves to it.
"Silly girls," he commented. "They'll regret it later." Especially if they danced all night. But not good, old, reliable Addy. She wore sensible, pretty shoes that wouldn't kill her feet. "Are you going to allow me at least one dance?"
He snorted at her commentary. "At least she's wearing one."
"I'm no expert, but I think she's wearing it in all the wrong places." The poor girl would probably be absolutely mortified to hear herself being talked about like this.