silvercloud (silvercloud) wrote in athinblackline, @ 2009-07-24 00:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | deadpool, fischer, forge, redel, ribbon |
Owner's Ball
Who: Open to all humans/invited mutants
When: Friday evening
Where: The Hotel Ball Room
What: The Owners Ball is underway
The welcome speech had been a bit long for Jonathan's liking, but at least the had a free drink to get him through it. It had been a long, flowery talk about the prosperity of Revolve, how the repairs to the Blocks were already well under way with new improvements. That comment had caused the speaker to nod to Forge, who offered a polite smile and nod to those who looked his way. He was known, not nearly as well as most of the fighters, but he had been a long presence at Revolve, so most worth their salt knew of him at least by reputation.
At last the talk ended and the party began. Soft string music floated from one corner of the room, a bar set up along with uniformed workers carrying around trays of finger food. There was a small area set up for dancing, but largely this was for mingling and talking. The ball room was fancy, with drinks being served in polished crystal glasses which matched the room's chandelier. The chatter quickly picked up, guests discussing losses in the collapse, the success of their fighters, the gore of the earlier Death Match starring Ribbon, or even the recent sports game.
Forge collected another drink before he retreated to an open spot near a wall. He was not terribly social, and as he owned no mutant and did not keep up with the fights, he was rather lacking in conversation with most of those filling the room. He was dressed in a pressed white shirt with a dark suit, the neck of the shirt undone, he had not bothered with a tie. He had better things to do than mingle, there was a great deal to be done around the island, but his presence had been specifically requested. A metallic hand ran through his loose, dark hair as his eyes scanned the room, his organic hand lifting his glass to his lips. He was more than willing to talk, though he sincerely hoped he would not be bombarded with too many "So what went wrong?" questions regarding the block collapse. That would quite quickly ruin his night. For now, he simply watched and waited, attempting to put names to the faces of those who moved past.