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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.]
He moved her easily with the music and kept his eyes focused just over her shoulder at the other couples swirling around the dance floor. "You're not so bad at this," he teased.
"You're doing it backwards," she responded, not realizing that she'd been leading every other time she'd done this.
She decided that she preferred dancing like this; having her partner move her to his whims. It also helped that her partner actually knew how to move, in this case.
"You're not so bad yourself," she admitted freely. She hadn't really thought about what to expect tonight, but she didn't know he could dance so well. Or at all.
"I do what I can," he tried humbly, but it came off false even to his own ears. He laughed. "Oh fine then. Mom made me take ballroom lessons one summer. I picked up a few tricks."
Lessons made sense. He was entirely too good at it to have picked it up at school dances. "I had a ballet lesson one summer. A lesson. Because giraffes cannot dance," she offered, imitating the snooty madame.
He swirled her again to shake off some of the flabbergast he surely just caused and smiled at her sweetly. "You're too real for ballet." Then he peered sideways at her neck. "And you certainly don't have the equipment to be a giraffe."
The other comment though was perfectly safe territory. "Short neck, I know," she sighed dramatically, tilting her head to her shoulder and stretching her neck. "I'm a vampire's nightmare." She straightened up with a laugh.