houseofcards_rp | It's Swing Time~

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Elisha's motivation for organizing - or, honestly, delegating the organization of - a semi-formal dance party. Lucinda had suggested a ball, with stars in her eyes. She probably had already picked out ballgowns and themes in her head when Elisha had nixed the thing and - in a moment of desperation, with the memory of the swing-themed Fox wedding still in his head - suggest a Spring Swing, instead.

Everyone had run with it, and Elisha was pleased to say it had come out well. He was even more pleased to say that he didn't have to wear a suit, even if he stepped out into the lantern-lit gardens in everything but the tie. He paused near the raised dais provided for dancing and gave the small band the signal to start up the music before he attempted to fade back in the crowd. Not that that ever worked.

"Let the games begin," he murmured to no one in particular as he picked up a glass of champagne off a tray.

Note: Open to everyone and their brother; tag around, have fun!

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If she must tug, Leigh's going to twirl a bit once she's done. "'m trusting you're right, then. Have you stepped on any toes yet? Or not-stepped? You're better'n me at these things."

Such is life. They'll both survive.

"Literally or metaphorically?" There are different answers, after all. Her face doesn't precisely fall, but she does let her gaze flick away briefly--looking for wherever Argine is watching from.

She crooks an eyebrow in what's distinctly an imitation of her guardian. "Literally. Why? Is there anything we gotta be watching for? They're only letting you be here 'cause it's practically in the castle?"

"We're supposed to be modelling the proper behaviour of young ladies." Which manages to come out as simply rote of her mother without a huge amount of sarcasm. "She's not quite pleased about the fabric paint she found."

But, well. 'She' wasn't going to ruin their fun. Nor was the apparently non-existent young man who might in theory have brought Leigh here as a date. Eileen wasn't remotely going to wait for him to appear.

"D'you think we're too old for the jumping?"

"Proper young ladies can still sew and embroider and stuff. I don't see why fabric paint's so different, it's still altering clothes."

She looks back at the dancefloor, her head cocking as feet fly and skirts sweep up and there's... definitely some things she didn't expect to see. "Um. Don't you mean we might be too young?"

She'll save that one for the next time she wants to make a Leigh-friendly alteration to something unnecessarily bland in her wardrobe.

"...I meant more the bouncy castles." Tug tug in this direction. Dancing can come later. "You might be too tall already."

She'll let herself be tugged, then, the wrinkle in her forehead smoothing out. "That's practically not fair, then. A lot of the grown up women round here are shorter than me if they took off their heels."

But, well, bouncy castles. She can't really remember if she's ever been in one before.

"You think?" She glances over her shoulder--and, for a moment, critically up at the older girl. Heights are harder to gauge while in the process of spurting, after all. "We've got a sound argument if they try to refuse to let you in, then, I think."

And some fairly skilled debaters with fairly terrifying guardians.

In fairness, many of the Deck women aren't exactly above average where height is concerned. Leigh is inching past that at a startling rate.

"We'll just not tell them how old I am unless they ask," she decides. "They've not got a sign up about age or height restriction, so there's nothing to enforce, either."

Well, then there's no question, is there. Time now, clearly, to start leaning on Leigh and undoing buckles on shoes, getting grass-stains on stockings before they actually hit the inflated things.

They'll be the oldest by a few years. That doesn't mean they won't have fun.

It's Swing Time~

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