tampered | (no subject)

WINTER GALA IS OPEN ~ !

Seen the sign? It’s everywhere.

And every little corner, and every little street, strident and glistening and snow everywhere. Statue here, statue there – North, South, East, West – they do call it the Square. There’s word they’re war heroes, or troubled hallows, or nothing of the sort. That might be ice they’re sculpted in – or the sliver in some champagne glass, because giants drink too, and the City knows things. The City doesn’t tell.

But the tap those statues once or twice, and tap them strong, and tap them well, and they’ll whisper a secret. The little Elf army scuttling about has seen better days for wear (mostly Thursdays), but they’re only three feet tall, and the silver powder on their cheek’s both rigidly applied, and rented. Kick’em. They’re fluent in seven languages, you know. They have a degree. Naghladi’gjamarai got a Nobel nomination last year; no one knows. The human reporter didn’t look down to his knee when he was interviewing. Humans, so damned righteous.

Like the lights everywhere can never go out.

Like they’re the first ones here, dancing all too merry.

Like it’s their celebration.

Like it’s not all coming out of their City taxes.

Idiots.

[ooc: OK, kids, as per Jesse instructions: please title your comment + replies in such a way that you mention if they're directed at anyone in particular. Free-for-all ball, enjoy ~ ! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She let him lead and she laughed. She actually honest-to-fucking-god laughed. And it was funny. In a place like this, with people she'd come to care for, even trust, maybe, not one of them had checked their weapons at the door, and Faye was alright with that.

And she laughed at the way he dodged her question, too, and told herself it was the alcohol when she knew that it wasn't. "Somehow I don't think rolling up with a sub-machine gun or a tank would go over very well, but you could try it if you're interested. I've always wanted an escort, myself. Just for the hell of it."

Vash smiled as Faye laughed. One of those "real" smiles Wolfwood had made a big deal out of when they'd first met. One of those smiles that wasn't just used to cover up something or get a smile from someone else. He really was enjoying himself. It was turning out to be an even better night than he thought it would be.

Then he laughed as well, which he didn't often do, unless he was purposefully being stupid. "You never know around here! It's amazing what they let you get away with! ...Most of the time, anyway!"

"Like keeping me away from all my admirers?" Faye asked, not bothering to hide her smile either. Vash's was infectious, and she wasn't sure that she'd ever seen this one before. She had a feeling that this would start bordering on cheesy if she didn't put a stop to it, though, and Faye could only handle so much dairy in one night.

It was fortunate for her that the song seemed to be winding to a close.

Vash looked around in a very obvious fashion and then cocked an eyebrow at Faye.

"Yeah, they're just lined up and waiting here, aren't they?" he said cheekily. "Don't worry, I won't keep you much longer."

He dipped her one more time as the song finished and grinned.

"I have to admit, Ms. Valentine, I'm pretty impressed! You're quite a dancer!"

She was scowling again by the time she came back up from the dip. "Yeah, well you can't dance for shit," Faye said, though there was obvious humor there without having to look for it.

"I should punch you. You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

"Hey, I'm a great dancer," Vash argued. "Your feet aren't all broken, are they? And what's with the sudden violence?! Am I going to have to get a restraining order here?"

Of course it wouldn't take a particularly perceptive person to realize it was all said in the best of humor. Vash could bitch like few others, but it was nearly always for the sole purpose of eliciting a reaction from someone else.

"Only if you're getting it for me," she replied, smirking at him once more and stepping back to survey the damage--or lack thereof. They hadn't done too bad. No one was lying crippled and maimed. Vash's head was still on his shoulders. She felt like she was alive.

Her head felt a little light, so she easily blamed the next action to on the vodka. Up on her toes--and it was a considerable stretch--she placed a hand on his shoulder and craned her neck some more until she was able to give him a kiss on the cheek--well, his jaw, because she wasn't stretching up that goddamn far for Vash.

"Thanks for the dance. Moron."

Vash started to make a witty comeback, but he was quickly cut off by the kiss. His eyebrows nearly shot up past his hairline. Out of all the things she might've done, that was the last thing he expected. But he recovered quickly and smiled, patting Faye's hand.

"Anything for you, Faye," he said brightly. "Thanks for dancing with me. Just try not to be too disappointed if you can't find anyone who measures up to me."

"I don't know anyone tall enough. I think you're safe."

There. Done. Moment over. Back into the swing of things. All she needed now was to find her clutch and her cigarettes and maybe get the hell out of here and--

Oh. Right.

"Tell anyone what just happened and I swear I'll murder you."

Vash had seen that one coming an ile away, so he was ready for it.

"It'll be a secret I take with me to the grave," he assured her, turning to leave and giving her a friendly wave. "Have a good night, Faye! Thanks for the dance!"