It's Swing Time~

[cipherspeak]

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!

Comments

[intolerantly]

"To be honest," and she was, ironically, "I can't say for sure. I haven't been on-Deck long enough to produce a valid opinion." She paused a moment, considering.

"I will say, however, that from what I do know of Clive, he's not nearly as ruthless as he perhaps should be, given his new job. In point of fact, he has the worst habit of backing away from tough situations."

[falsepretences]

"He is from the nice side of the family." More of a Kelly in some ways, Jordan thought, than a Bernard. He imagined that if Laureline hadn't decamped to the Hearts, he might have been the one betrothed to Ivona Wolf.

Which was an odd thought, really.

"I wonder if there have been any tough situations so far..." He really, he thought, needed to get his ear closer to the ground. He'd been slacking.

[intolerantly]

"A handicap, in our Suit, darling," Ivona pointed out crisply. "Regardless of this 'new image' our Royals seem to be advocating, Spades will be Spades, in the end. History speaks for itself, really."

Requesting a simple glass of ice water, Ivona shrugged lightly. "I haven't heard of any warranting notice. Things have been unusually quiet, these past few weeks. Pleasant, if a touch suspicious."

[falsepretences]

"Image is just that. Image." Very rarely had much to do with what was underneath, and he doubted that Katya was really particularly kind and gentle.


He finished off his bourbon and tapped a finger against his glass, his eyes narrowed in a way that bespoke trouble. "Nothing particularly odd, no," he said. "But that in itself is odd."

[intolerantly]

Ivona did have her doubts. She knew Clive Kelly very well, after all. But Katya--well, their Queen did have her secrets, everyone knew. Time would tell. And only the survivors would write the histories, as the saying went.

"Anticipating something dire to come roaring out of the woods, love?" she gently teased, tapping a perfect fingernail against the back of his hand. "While I grant the lack of catastrophe around here is a bit disconcerting, I've resolved to simply enjoy the breather. Heaven knows there will be time enough for panic and crisis later."

She gave Jordan a knowing look. "Translation, Sir Novak: Seize the night." A giggle. "And whatever else you can reach."