The Masquerade!

[avibusraris]

Have you signed up to go to the ball? Not everyone is going, and they don't have to! But they are highly encouraged to. Whether they have a date or not depends on how they'll be getting there. If they do have a specific date then the car that picks them up will be a regular guard car, and they will be told to get into the back and be escorted that way. The guard's cannot be harmed in their car, there is a metal blockade in the car, so sorry! For those that don't have a date, they'll be expected to get into a limo, taking about six or seven inmates at once! You might find your friends in the limo on the way there, yay!

The guards will take the inmates to a secluded spot on an entirely different island than the main one the prison is on. It's a coliseum, one that's used for special events involving horses and other fun animals. The Warden special ordered a massive tent that covers the entire coliseum, and there are heat lamps scattered about within. It's cold outside, these are a must! Around the perimeter of the tent there are several guards with loaded guns. They're standing about, watching very carefully, and if anyone tries to attack another inmate or tries to escape they will be shot on sight, no questions asked.

Comments

[starcharted]

[ John grimaced. He'd obviously guessed wrong. Who else would dress that distinctly though? He put his hand to his chin and thought on the subject for only a matter of seconds before an idea sprung to his mind. ]

Philip! Am I right?

[decideformyself]

Correct.

[ He peers at John, trying to figure out just who he's looking at. It doesn't help that they've never met in person. ]

[starcharted]

Fantastic!

[ John was absolutely thrilled that Philip had attended. In a way it didn't seem like his kind of event, but he figured the chance at research won out in the end. He held his hand out in greeting, grinning as he usually did. ]

I'm probably not supposed to give it away so easily, but The Doctor would be me. Or John. I don't think we've established which you prefer.

[decideformyself]

[ He takes that hand and shakes it. At least he's figured out this much. ]

I would think it more important to establish which you prefer.

[starcharted]

I don't particularly have a preference, honestly. Whichever you like best is fine.

[decideformyself]

John, then. [ He doesn't exactly have the best history with "doctors". ]

That aside, I believe we are meant to engage in a ritualistic form of rhythmic body movement to celebrate the occasion. I've done an in-depth reading of the particulars of ballroom dance. I am thoroughly prepared.

[starcharted]

[ John gave a quick thumbs up as if to approve of his choice in names.

The way Philip talked about dancing as if it was some strange concept made him laugh. ]

Have you practiced any? Reading about it and doing it are rather different things.

[decideformyself]

[ A headtilt. ]

No, I think I understand enough from my reading.

[starcharted]

You might have to teach me a thing or two then.

[decideformyself]

[ With no prelude, he puts one hand on John's hip, and with the other he takes one of John's hands. TIME TO DANCE. ]

[starcharted]

[ Short of being taken back by the abruptness of his actions, the situation was otherwise completely normal to John. He did his best to get aligned with Philip's stance, though he admittedly wasn't a very good formal dancer. ]

I'll follow your lead, I think.

[decideformyself]

Good.

[ Philip seems to have the moves down, but he's clunky and robotic about it. It's clear this is his first time. ]

[starcharted]

[ John, on the other hand, wasn't doing so great with the coordination thing. Philip was probably going to have sore feet by the time this was over. ]

[decideformyself]

Ah-- sheesh, watch where you're stepping.

[starcharted]

Sorry, sorry!

[ Oops. He might have stepped on Philip's foot again. ]

We should probably try something else.

[decideformyself]

[ He looks so frustrated. Why did this not go as planned? :\ But he goes ahead and lets go of John and sort of limps his way off the dance floor to get out of the way. ]

You need practice.