Off with your coats!
Muse Academy’s spring formal is now in progress!
Details can be found on the planning thread. Here’s how Cerulean Pyros summarizes them:
Entry hall: furniture attached sidelong to the walls and ceiling and floor, to look like the rabbit-hole turned on its side.
Ballroom: Indoor garden; large mushroom-shaped seats; chess; lion and unicorn archway to roof; tea party; holograms.
Rooftop: Tent, to turn it into an interior; croquet; clever and complicated mirror maze, as described extensively above.
Dancing will be: Lobster quadrille, and an assortment of interesting music. Food extant according to guests’ imaginations. Attire to be formal, comfortable, stylish, and individual. Interactions not relegated to fellow MBers, due to the infinite range of Mysterious Strangers who attend the ball.
The rest is up to you.
Seeing a ballroom possibly devoid of MuseBloggers, I prance into the room in elegant neo-Victorian attire- a dashing black suit and tie. Hoping to entice more people into the ballroom, I call up a few musically talented Mysterious Strangers and we strike up a Viennese Waltz, hoping to keep the music theme-appropriate.
I clamber through the entry hall, holding my midnight blue Art Nouveau skirt out of the way. The ballroom is full of people, but I recognize only Enceladus. “Hello, you!” I call. “Dashing suit. Care for a dance partner?”
Excuse the attire, but I had to drive the cart myself. I’ll change later. Now, where do I put the gamelan?
I arrive and pause at the door, pulling out a small women’s pocket watch. “Oh good,” I mutter to myself, “I’m right on time.” I put it back. The watch has black numbers on a white face set into a red fitting to match my dress. My dress is a simple thing, though I flatter myself to think it elegant, in a plain white with black geometric trim and a plain red sash. I glance appreciatively at the horizontal rabbit hole before making my way into the ballroom. As always, the comestibles are the first thing to catch my eye, so I glide over to the table that seems set for a tea party.
“Time, what is time?” I mutter somewhat pointlessly but philosophically to myself as I arrive in the ballroom. I don an elegant black and white sleeveless dress and wear a deep-crimson rose in my pulled-back hair. I notice many Mysterious Strangers around the room but only a few faces I recognize. Then the scent of tasty edible objects entice me and I make my way to the refreshments table, where I greet R101.
“Hello there! That is a lovely dress you have on.”
“Of course, my cerulean acquaintance” I respond, with a slight bow. We waltz off into the ballroom, the magic of blogged idealism turning us into elegant dancers.
I enter, wearing an imperial-waistlined dress in cheery shades of red. A lacy white shawl is draped over my shoulders, held there by a brooch made of glass and held together by spiraling wire. The pin catches the light and reflects it in a thousand different directions, only to catch it again and rocket it back into the heart of the pin where a thousand twisting tendrils of wire-thin glass wait to take it hostage again and wrench it in a million different shapes before letting it go. The result is rather stunning.
I wander over to the refreshments table where I join *Cskia and R101. “I wonder if thre are any Puffin Puffs this year?” I ask.
I peek in the doorway from the entrance hall, my ringlets falling down around my puzzled face, having just come from a very peculiar rabbit hole. “This must be the right place!”
I sweep into the ballroom, which has been lavishly decorated to make me feel like I am rather small in a rather enormous garden. The flowers are huge and beautiful, and everything looms around in a way that is pleasant, to say the least. I lovingly admire a seat modeled after a toadstool. “Very clever! I wonder if I can sneak one home when the night is through.” I wear a long, strapless and flowing pale pink gown that ripples out behind me as I walk across the room.
I glide up to *Cskia, Lightning and R101, who seem to be discussing the infamous puffin puffs. As if on cue, dozens of wungs exit from the funhouse-mirror modeled doors to the kitchens, carrying platters of the puffs and placing them on a nearby buffet table, where they sit emitting a terrible and obscure scent.
I stare around me as I walk through the rabbit hole. It is uncanny, just like I had imagined a rabbit hole. It is all I can do not to accidentally trip on the hem of my dress and tumble into the party! I step into the garden, pause in wonderment, and then head for a mushroom near the buffet table.
I am wearing a victorian style dress of light sea blue that hovers over the floor. It is square necked, with off-white lace around the edge. The sleeves are puffed and end at the wrist with a pearl button cuff. My long, dirty blond, curly hair cascades down my back.
((Correction: the dress is likely a cross between victorian style and something else because I believe that victorian dresses had high collars around the neck.))
((Depends on what part of the Victorian era. Victoria reigned from 1837 to 1901. Styles and modesty changed a lot in those sixty-four years. If you’re thinking of late Victorian, than day-wear had high necks, but evening gowns did not. Hope this was helpful and/or interesting, rather than lecturing!))
((Lewis Carroll would have witnessed some substantial changes in women’s fashions during his 65 years (1832-1898)–almost entirely within the Victorian Era (she took the throne in 1837). The two Alice books were first published in 1865 and 1871, respectively. Very different periods in terms of fashion, but evening gowns for both times were often off the shoulder (not to be confused with strapless).))
((Thank you all for the information.))
I glance up from my tea (very good tea indeed; May Day balls seem to be one of the few locations where I can consistently find tea strong enough to suit my peculiar taste) to see *Cskia in a lovely dress speaking to me. “Why, thank you,” I reply, “Your own dress is beautiful too. I must admit I would not have pictured you with a rose in your hair. It looks marvelous.” Suddenly I notice Agent Lightening approaching. “Oh my goodness, what a wonderful outfit!” I exclaim. Before I can think of an answer to her question regarding a certain notorious pastry, however, the wungs bring out a platter of it and agrrrfishi arrives at the table. As the wungs retreat back to their kitchens, they point to a small sign in the center of the table. It is the sort of sign used to indicate that a table is reserved, but instead of a name, it simply reads “Riddles”.
“Blogged idealism is so useful, isn’t it?” I remark to Enceladus. “I am particularly appreciative of the ability to avoid toe-stomping.” I smile gleefully. We turn several figures of the waltz. “Have you seen? The dobro-player has elk antlers, and the lutenist is a fox in a greatcoat.”
My forehead hits the chessboard with a thud. Wincing and pulling a bishop from my hair, I blearily look around. I must’ve fallen asleep. My chess partner is nowhere to be found. Oh well, he wasn’t a very talkative wung anyhow. A small cup of unidentified liquid is sitting on a pillar to my left, and I take it and gulp it down as I look around at the other guests. I didn’t intend to be so early to the ball, but as I approached the ballroom a while ago time must’ve pulled an odd sort of loop just to mess with me. Either that or I read the clock wrong. In any case, I notice that the mulberry stain on my shirt seems to have disappeared–probably a motherly gesture from one of the wungs. A bit disappointing, really; I thought it complemented the brown suit rather nicely. As I consider whether I should reapply the stain, the drink kicks in like a roar of flame in the back of my throat. I should’ve known–a habanero highball. Eyes streaming, I rush to the refreshments table and pour myself a glass of milk. Coughing and sputtering a bit, I finally manage to cool my mouth down. Wiping away the milk mustache with the back of my sleeve, I smile. “Hello, everyone.”
I walk very briskly out of my room in the Baker dormitories with hands entwined in my hair and hairpins clenched in my teeth, mutterring threats of death to whatever misfortune dared cross my path. I had only intended a short nap, as I had been helping prepare food in the midmorning. I hadn’t helped plan, so I felt that I should assist the ball in some way or another. But now I really couldn’t decide whether I was regretting the decision to help or the decision to sleep. My dress was a bit fussy to put on, what with the not-quite-sleeves and all the ribbons. I had designed it myself, and I’m rather proud of the outcome.
But it’s hard to feel pride when you are busy being late.
Baker House, though I love it dearly, is the closest to the school dairy but farthest from the grand ballroom. A longer distance to cross but more time to make the finishing touches- a lock of hair stylishly out of the buntail, a small touch of eyeshadow, another ribbon tied around my neck. I had seen a lovely skirt with ribbons recently and the idea had taken. Now my sleeves were trailing everywhere and it had taken seven minutes to put on my shoes.
With one last quick glance in a window to I deem myself presentable, I open the door and duck inside. As I walk down the narrowing hallway I take some time to calm down and will the flush out of my face (fair skin can do that when excited- and excited can mean many different things, such as frustration). I admire the skill at which the furniture was placed and proceed to wrack my head to realize the theme. I can be a bit slow on some matters but quick on others, and this sort of thing is a slow one. Metaphors in literature? No problem. Theme of ball hitting you in the face figuratvely? Don’t have a clue.
When I open the door into the ballroom I resist the urge to pound my head against the wall as Victorian/Alice in Wonderland starts hitting me with a baseball bat. How could I not have seen it before??
No matter. It’s ball time. Gather yourself, Zinc, this is a formal occasion. And with that I attempt to stride confidently into the main area.
((Pictures of the dress with come around tomorrow! I still have to color and ink it, and find a way to scan it. \(TAT)/ Also I must say I am actually rather proud of it.))
I wander in the doors with a vague smile, staring at the ceiling and with no apparent idea that I am late. I am wearing a long, royal purple dress with a swirly sort of skirt and gold, lacy, ribbony trim. My hair is knotted up at the back and has an assortment of gold and purple ribbons in it, and I am barefoot.
I drift off to the side of the room and begin to dance by myself, twirling across the floor and popping up in front of Piggy, who is dripping milk on the floor. “Hello, Piggy,” I say. “Care to dance?”
I walk in fashionably late in my flowing, ruby red, shimmery dress. I have a minor crisis as my long ruby earrings get caught in my hair (In retrospect, I probably should have stuck with shorter ones), but move on. The refreshments table catches my eye and I walk over to find AL, *Cskia, Randomosity, and agrrrfishi. “Hello! Oh. *crinkles nose* I see the Puffin Puffs have arrived…”
I enter quietly, wearing a flowy midnight blue dress with gold ribbon trim spiraling up around it. My hair is tied in the back with gold ribbon, and I wear simple dark blue flats. I wander over to some of the other people at the buffet table.
*walks in* *trips on my red dress aligighed… alihned a… EMBROIDERED with little red rubies and dark red gloves* *falls into the pie table* *comes out with pie all over face*
well with my luck that’s probably what would happen
SFTDP
red is my least favorite color just so you know. (blue and green are my favorites) but with my luck i would probably end up with a red outfit.
((Nonsense! This is Muse Academy. If you’d like to walk in without tripping or wear a blue or green dress, you may most certainly do so.))
Now Drama Llama arrives with a greeting and Rainbow*Star arrives more quietly. “Hello,” I say, “You both look splendid!” And then, because I’ve never been one to spend much time on pleasantries, I continue by saying: “Perhaps you two can help us? Evidently this table is reserved for riddles, but my friends here seem quiet for the moment and I myself have never been very good at coming up with riddles, though I do enjoy answering them.”
“Why, thank you, R101! You look stunning, as well!” I say. “I am not very good at coming up with riddles, though..”
i know a good riddle!
what gets more wet the more it dries?
A painting of the ocean?
“I’ll start!” I say, and try to remember a riddle. “All right, it isn’t that good, but how about: for some I go fast, for others I’m slow. To most people, I’m an obsession; relying on me is a well practiced lesson. What am I?”
I do apologise, but I’ve brought this fountain. It’s a gift from the Albanian government, who we don’t want to upset because of the bauxite concessions. It’s quite pretty, but they have this idea that it should go in the middle of the dance floor and we should dance round it. In which case, the gamelan’s going to have to be moved up onto the balcony, and no-one will be able to view the exhibition of 18th century botanical prints. What do you think?
((Catwoman– Nonsense! This is Muse Academy. If you’d like to walk in without tripping or wear a blue or green dress, you may most certainly do so.))
((SFTDP: Sorry. WordPress was acting up.))
“A clock?” I murmur, pondering Zinc’s riddle. “Time?”
“Correct!” I cheer, and hand the bowl of confectionaries to AL. “Those who guess correctly get the confectionary bowl until the next winner,” I decide.
After greeting those at the buffet table and selecting a few choice mints, I saunter over to the Riddle table where AL, Zinc, Rainbowstar, DramaLlama, *Cskia, Aggie, and R101 are sitting.
“May I join in the fun?” I ask politely.
I look up from my tea when I hear Kittymine’s question. “Is that a riddle?” I ask with a small grin, pulling out a nearby chair for her to sit in. “Lovely outfit, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I reply to R101 with a curtsy. “Is one person giving riddles or are we going around the table?”
“I believe we are going around the table. The first person to answer any given riddle apparently gets the confectionary bowl before passing it on to the next winner.”
“Sure,” I respond to Choklit Orange. “I really have no idea what in the world this music is or how to dance to it, and your discalceation raises the stakes, but let’s give it a shot.”
The music stops, and I half-bow, half-curtsy to Enceladus. “Thank you very much for the dance,” I say. “I enjoyed it greatly.” With that, I slip to the buffet to explore it. I pour a glass of clementine juice and take a currant-and-chocolate chip scone from a plate.
At this juncture, the four GAPAs enter the room in the first of several sets of costumes they will display during the ball. Paul and Robert are dressed as the Walrus and the Carpenter; Rebecca and Rosanne, as the March Hare and the Dormouse from the Mad Tea Party. They parade down the center of the ballroom to general applause; pause near the refreshment table to make smiling bows or curtseys; and then depart to change into their next Carrollian ensemble.
“A towel?” I guess in response to Catwoman’s riddle.
YESS! YOU WIN THE TEN MILLION DOLLARS! not really
i love jokes
I applaud as the GAPAs parade by the buffet table in their amusing outfits. As they bow and curtsey, I beam delightedly and wonder what the next assemble may be; I get a vague mental image of Paul and Robert as Tweedledum and Tweedledee and giggle quietly to myself.
((This is really giving me an idea for a picture… :D))
((Oddly, the same image entered my mind.))
((Delightful! Now I simply must draw it. be right back, looking for color pencils somewhere under my homework stacks))
((As described in comment 31, Cskia has sent this drawing of the GAPAs in their first round of May Ball finery:))
Haha! I love it. Especially the matching drawing style.
I have acquired flippers.
I’ve always wanted flippers.
and fangs apparently
Thanks for capturing the moment so perfectly, *Cskia! I see you caught how Lady Bunniful’s whiskers were tickling my ear.
I quietly sip my tea and try to think of a riddle myself, but the only ones I know are far too easy…
I enter the ballroom. Late. What else is new. I am wearing a light green dress and white shoes, nothing too fancy. I consider going to the buffet, but I’m not that hungry and the Puffin Puffs scare me. I don’t know what makes them infamous and I don’t want to be the one that finds out.
I make my way to the riddle table. “May I join?” I ask the large group that is already there.
“Discalceated is my favorite way to dance,” I tell Piggy. We twirl closer to the refreshment table and I snag a chocolatey pastry. Now dancing and eating at the same time, I gaze around the room, admiring the GAPAs’ costumes.
“Alright – I’ve got one,” I declare after a long bout of pondering
‘If you have it, you’d like to share it.
If you share it, you haven’t got it.
What is it?’
“Hmm…” I think a moment. “Is it a secret?”
“Correct!” I respond happily, hoping that the riddle wasn’t too easy. As Zinc passes the confectionary bowl to R101, I look around the room to where couples are dancing. I notice that Enceladus has finished dancing with Cerulean Pyros. Excusing myself politely from the Riddle Table and gesturing for Agent Hippie to take my seat, I walk toward the buffet table at the edge of the dance floor, where Enceladus is standing. The music, having paused due to the entrance of the GAPAs, has restarted.
“Would you care to dance with me?” I ask.
After bowing to Cerulean Pyros after a lovely dance with her, I turn around, and surprisedly find Kittymine asking for a dance with me. Of course, I accept. We spin off into a lively version of the Lobster Quadrille.
I think a second longer, and try my hand at making up my own riddle. “Sometimes I wear a hat, and sometimes I go bald. Sometimes I fly, sometimes I sit. I can never quite hold myself together, but everyone loves me. What am I?”
I have no idea what the answer is to Randomosity101’s riddle. Eagles are bald sometimes, and they fly and sometimes sit… But, hmmm, the rest doesn’t really fit. They hardly ever wear hats, for instance.
I think I need a few of these delicious looking pastries for sustenance. Has anyone tried the wung buttons?
I hurry inside, cursing my lateness. Final exams can be killer.
I’m wearing a honey-yellow Chinese-style top* embroidered with green fractal patterns and a pair of loose black silk pants.
The toadstool seats are fabulous, like something out of my six-year-old daydreams about Fairyland. I hurry over to grab a seat and find that they’re surprisingly soft.
* Like this, but with different colors: http:// img. alibaba. com/img/ pb/604/357/365/ 365357604_388. jpg
I realize that perhaps a riddle made up on the spot perhaps isn’t the best idea. I decide to try giving a hint. “Um…” I say, “The ‘hat’ really isn’t literal, and I guess the ‘holding itself together’ part is mostly upon landing after flight…”
I know! I know! The answer is pie! The answer is always pie!
I grin, relieved that I had not accidentally impossible. “Absolutely right!” I hand Ms. Spector the bowl.
((SFTDP. That should be “accidentally made it impossible” sorry.))
((Thank goodness, the grammar of the whole “I accidentally something” meme really gets on my nerves.))
((For the record, I tend to avoid memes, and I don’t even understand that one. However, I do occasionally omit words by mistake if I type too quickly, for which I apologize.))
“Thanks, R101.” I fish a purple wung button out of the bowl, take a bite, and probe my mind for a riddle to pose. A pity I can’t think of any.
I walk over to KaiYves and shyly say, “Would you like to dance with me?”
((I am rarely ever shy, for the record))
I quietly slip in through the rabbit hole (if that’s even possible) and survey the room. Realizing how badly I interact with people, I shuffle toward the corner.
((It always amuses me to see how — even in a place we’ve defined as the school of their dreams, surrounded by kind, intelligent, interesting people — MBers find it easier to imagine levitating than to imaging being graceful, charming, and at ease.))
((Eh. I’m socially awkward even among those sorts of people, so…))
As I’m busy shuffling, I peer beyond the hood of my pulled-down jacket to the party beyond. All the dance partners seem to be taken, so I continue to shuffle on my own.
Drama Llama comes up and asks me to dance.
“Certainly.” I tell her “Although I must warn you, I’m a bit out-of-practice.”
“That’s alright; so am I!” I say jokingly. “Let’s hope I don’t break anything!”
Swalot walks in dashingly in a tuxedo and walks over to Cskia and says
“I’m a bit late, but care to dance?”
((Of course he does.))
((Wait, what?))
((what is that supposed to mean? O.o))
((Random wonders why Swalot is referring to himself in the third person.))
Having long since finished my beverage and comestibles, and having both answered and asked a riddle, I decide to leave the riddle table. I wander more or less aimlessly, admiring the decorations, particularly the charming chessboard dance floor.
((I’m sorry, I’m new to this so yea. But Cskia explained it over email so I think I get it know))
I walk in, terribly late. I am wearing a soft pink off-the-shoulder dress with a gathered skirt. Layers of lace and tulle are pinned with small pearls to the many layers of ruffles. Straightening my white top hat, also partly covered with some elaborate lace held in place by a small silver flower, I walk over to the refreshments table. My button-up white shoes make a clacking sound on the floor. Pouring myself a glass of water with one white gloved hand, I take a sip and catch my breath.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say. “I got lost and ended up through the looking glass. There was a wild party going on there. I must say, however, their decorations aren’t nearly as nice as these.”
I tentatively step over to the refreshments table as well, also taking a glass of water because it’s a lot easier to imitate other people. “Ah…yes, these are rather nice furnishings, aren’t they?” I say to Mikazuki.
“Okay.” I laugh, and start to dance. “These decorations are lovely, aren’t they?” I ask Drama Llama.
“Why, of course!” I beam at Swalot. “I can’t say I know much about dancing, but we can always give it a try.”
“I can’t say I know much about dancing either! Perhaps we can start off slowly?” I said to Cskia in a small voice.
I arrive through the rabbit hole, hoping no one’s noticed my lateness. I’m wearing a colourful, tribal-print-esque dress and a pair of grey flats. I hope I don’t look too casual. My hair is in a simple side braid, adorned with a bright gold barrette. I walk over to muselover and Mikazuki, who are talking by the refreshments table.
‘Lovely decorations, aren’t they? I really do feel like I’m in Wonderland!’ I say.
I grow tired of watching the dancers, so I turn and slowly make my way toward the exit to the rooftop maze.
“We aren’t?” I say in reply to Selenium.
The entrance to the rabbit hole was certainly well hidden, I think as I exit though the rabbit hole. I hope everyone will forgive my lateness. I am dressed in a tailcoat, black pants, a white shirt and a white bowtie.
While walking over to get a glass of punch, I realize that I don’t really know anyone here. Ah well. What are these social events for other than mingling with fellow Muse Academy Students?
As I come to the table, I say (to no one in perticular): “People seem to be unusually preoccupied with these decorations, don’t they?”
“Quite beatiful,” I respond to KaiYves. “The decorations are very intricate; they must have taken forever to make!”
“It’s hard not to be,” I reply to Reasons. “They’re rather breathtaking.”
“Indeed they are” I reply to Agent Lightning “But there are more interesting subjects to discuss, such as your wonderful broach.”
“Watch out for that hanging – oh never mind, it’s a hologram,” I blurt out as Enceladus and I dance around the room. I forget who’s idea it was to put up holographic decorations, but the giant low-hanging carrot is seriously driving me crazy.
((SFTDP, hit Comment too early))
Shortly after my embarrassing bit of hologram confusion, the dance ended. I curtsy gracefully.
“Thank you for a wonderful dance,” I say, a touch out of breath.
‘How silly of me, but of course we are! No wonder everything looks so real. Any refreshments you’d recommend?’ I ask muselover. ‘I’m feeling a bit hungry.’
Twirling around the ballroom, both of us managing to avoid getting crumbs on our clothing, I suddenly notice that we seem to have grown very tall, and I quickly duck my head to avoid hitting it on a chandelier. On the other side of the room, everyone else seems to have maintained their usual stature. I stare at the crown molding for a minute and then ask Choklit, “Does the ceiling look slanted to you? Or is it the floor?”
Feeling more and more at ease, I lean against the table as I talk with Selenium. “The Puffin Puffs are interesting as always. Why don’t we get a few?”
“Oh dear,” I say to Muselover and Selenium. “Puffin Puffs? Didn’t those explode last time they were at a Muse Academy function?”
“I agree. Just look at that one!” I tell Drama Lama, pointing at a holographic twisting Mobius Strip that floats serenely over our heads.
“Simply breathtaking,” I say to KaiYves.
((*thwacks thread across the face with a pocket dictionary*))
‘Perhaps,’ I remark to muselover and Mikazuki. ‘Why don’t we risk it?’ I carefully pick up a Puffin Puff and move it to my plate, where it lasts all of two seconds before exploding violently. Luckily, none of it splashes onto us, but the floor is a right mess. ‘Oops!’ I say. ‘I suppose you were right about them exploding!’
“Sounds good!” I take Swalot’s hand and we waltz off slowly.
Whew! What a finale! Anybody who left the ball early missed something really special.
Where to start? Well, as predicted, Paul and I came in as Tweedledee and Tweedledum and battled it out with an armory of weaponry that included pillows, squirt guns, and edible light sabers. Then Rosanne appeared as a beamish boy (!) carrying a vorpal blade, and Rebecca wheeled in a truly frightening Jabberwock puppet, and another battle ensued. The Jabberwock didn’t get really vicious until one of the students carelessly referred to it as a “Jabberwocky.” Jabberwocks are never in a good mood, but that extraneous “y” is something they simply won’t tolerate. (As everyone except Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter ought to know, “Jabberwocky” is the name of a poem about a Jabberwock.)
Then, at the end of the evening, I bounded in as the White Knight to announce that things were drawing to a close. Rebecca strode in as the Queen of Hearts demanding that everybody be beheaded. But Rosanne, dressed as Alice, said, “Nonsense!” and started to rise toward the ceiling (hoisted by a winch) as accordion-pleated legs “grew” beneath her. When she reached the rafters, she grabbed a microphone and told everyone in an booming voice that they were all just a pack of cards. Sure enough, enormous fans began whipping up gale-force winds that blew us around like so many pieces of cardboard.
Amid the cathassus, Paul sleepwalked in as the Red King from Though the Looking-Glass, snoring vociferously. On reaching the middle of the ballroom, he “woke” with a start and, as the wind died down and the lights slowly rose, delivered Prospero’s “Our revels now are ended” speech from The Tempest. Then it was over, and the rest of us were left wondering whether the ball had been his dream or ours. A remarkable and memorable occasion.
Now I’m off to the lab to find a hazardous-waste container for the leftover puffin puffs.
((True to form, on all counts, I’d say.))
I missed all of that? Stupid internship!
We do have fun on campus, but, alas, college, internships, and similar preparations for world domination take precedence.