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Post by Chørd on May 16, 2012 13:33:05 GMT -5
 The event will take place between May 16th 2012 and July 4th 2012. All threads surrounding the event should be created and heading towards some sort of an end by then. If more time is felt to be needed this deadline will be extended.
Characters must be over sixteen years old, or be able to look that age (i.e. at the very extreme youngest fourteen), in order to gain admission.
Characters of any allegiance are permitted, though common soldiers from either side will be turned away - no riff raff allowed!
The ball is a masquerade so masks should be worn. They may be taken off eventually, but should be on at the very least for admittance. That's the fun of it - you're identity is supposed to be secret (though whether it remains a secret or the façade is successful is another thing!)
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There are no set rules for the event, just that please try and post at least ONCE in the main thread (this thread), even if to just introduce your character onto the scene, and that any additional threads you set up for one-on-one rps have [BALL] in the thread title.
Also, feel free to bring in one-off characters to use soley for this thread. There's no need to register them or whatever.
And so, without further adieu, let the roleplaying ensue!
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- Alexander Cameron
- Margaret McPherson
- Inga Vistchs
- Anders Grentachst
- Dominik Fleischer
- Abigail Franklin
- Abigail Adams
- Colonel Jack Stewart
- Gorden Botwright
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Post by faithfulguardian on May 16, 2012 17:40:37 GMT -5
The night was warmer than most spring evenings, and a slight breeze drifted through the streets of Boston. All was quiet in the North Square area, taverns were near empty and even the brothels seemed low on customers this night. Maybe it was that no one wanted any trouble these days, or maybe it was because they were all somewhere else.
"Hurry Alex! we're going tae be late!" Danny broke the silence in the square as she clumsily clip-clopped her way over the cobblestone street, her new heels barely broken in. It was the first time in months she had worn women's shoes, and she was out of practice. along with the heels she wore a new dress, paid for by the army and her wonderful Lieutenant's pay grade. knowing how to use a rifle in this new world had surely paid off. The dress was a soft blue colour for the outer skirt and the top, lining the bodice was a gold ribbon of silk and underneath was a bright red skirt that was revealed down the front from her waist to her shoes. all that was made of a fine brocade fabric and embossed with little flowers over everything. Alex had a matching suit of yellow-gold brocade with a blue waistcoat and a red cravat. Danny had a cream coloured scarf wrapped around her shoulders and head and held in place with a large tricorn cap, to which her gold painted mask was attached. Again, Alex's mask matched hers to cover the eyes and the nose, his tricorn was pushed back further on his forehead, however, while Danny's was pulled low over her brow.
"We're nae gantae be late, lass, the dance goes on until all hours o' the night!" Alex chuckled as Danny dragged him up the street.
Danny turned her head and glared through her eyeholes. "Yae listen here Sergeant, Ah'm yer superior officer and I say step tae!"
Alex threw up a mock salute and picked up his pace to be even with hers.
Together they reached the doors of the Masquerade and stood, catching their breath, waiting for the doorman. when he arrived Alex stepped forward. "Alexander Cameron and Margaret McPherson. Oor invitation, sir." he handed over an envelope with both their names written upon it and they were ushered inside to the ball.
OOC: Alex is Danny's old 'friend' (wink wink) from when she was still a drummer. he's just along for the ball.
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Post by The Author. on May 16, 2012 20:54:06 GMT -5
((So we don't have to make bios??? In that case....))
meet Inga Vistchs and Anders Grentachst. ( I don't know if that would be a german name or not but....)
Prepare for two love-struck eighteen year olds!
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Inga Vistchs walked elegantly down the street. Oh, how she despised shoes.... And long dresses, but Anders, her friend had asked her to come with him and she could never say no to Anders. Her dress was simple, unlike many of the others, but that made her stand out. It was a dark rich green, with sleeves that just went down past her elbows. Anders was also simple-- a white shirt and cravat and a light brown waist-coat, with darker brown pants (Or whatever they called them...) and white stockings with his best shoes which were basically a clean shiny new pair of what he wore every day.
"Inga Vistchs and Anders Grentachst. Our invitations are here." Anders said in a slightly demanding tone. He handed the envelope with their names on it to him and was ushered inside. Inga looked around, then smiled at Anders. He smiled back, touching her hair. They went to a corner of the room, far from the door.
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Post by Dallas on May 17, 2012 8:59:06 GMT -5
>>DOMINIK
He had just recently come to Boston, but he already could tell that he wouldn't like it. The air was different the farther North you went. Of course his home back in Germany was North, but the air there had stunk as well. The southern colonies were more appealing to him because they were more open. He had his mind set to returning to Virginia as soon as possible.
Tonight though, there was something going on in this town. The only reason why he was here was to go to a ball in place of his boss. He had tried to get his way out of going, but the old Frenchman insisted that he was to busy and wanted Dominik to go instead. He doubted that he knew enough etiquette for this sort of gathering, but that didn't seem to faze the old man. That and Dominik was nearly eighteen. Not quite there yet, but he was sure he looked about nineteen anyway. So here he was, walking down the street in some fancy jacket and breeches to a ball in the British Colonies. If he had been told this would happen a year ago he wouldn't have believed it.
As he approached the doorman he tried his best to look proper. He extended the piece of paper towards him, "Me invitation sir. I am 'ere on behalf o' Mr. Deleroy. Dominik Fleischer."
The man stared at him for a while in disbelief. Have I said something wrong? He checked his english again, but he came up with the same words. The man took the envelope from him and checked it. Even after he had seen that the invitation was real he still stared at Dominik. He felt his anger beginning to boil towards the man, but he did his best to keep calm.
"Yes of course. Right this way." The man said in an unsure tone.
Dominik nodded and walked past the man. Idiot. He kept his thoughts to himself as he looked back at the man one more time. Of cousre Dominik probably didn't look the.. 'Official' type. Why Mr. Deleroy had wanted him to go out of all the better options was beyond Dominik. Still he was here now and he might as well enjoy it. He adjusted the black mask on his face slightly as he started venturing into the crowds of people.
Before he gotten very far he heard some one enter in with a strange accent. "Oor invitations sir." He looked back slightly and saw a woman and a man. Never heard an accent like that before. He was only passively interestedd in the couple though. He actually could care less where they were from.
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Post by faithfulguardian on May 19, 2012 8:53:38 GMT -5
Danny and Alex circled the room full of wide skirts and bright coats in search of a familiar face, but none revealed themselves from beneath their masks. They stopped at a table laden with hor d'oeuvres and snacked on a few while waiting for the band to begin.
"How much dae yae want tae bet a wee scrap breaks oot tonight, eh?" Alex chuckled at the crowd of guests.
"Dinnae be ridiculous Mr. Cameron, they take all the weapons at the door." Danny retorted.
"Aye, but some weapons are attached tae the body." he held up his fists like a boxer might and Danny quickly lowered them before anyone saw. She glanced around the room, most of the guests wore neutral colours or a combination like Danny, but there were some folks who proudly sported the scarlet colours of Britain and others who blatantly wore the blue matching that of the Continental Army. Maybe Alex was right, maybe a fight was going to break out tonight; she hoped not.
At that moment the band struck up a tune. Danny knew it to be a quadrille, a four person dance; they needed to find two more people.
"Come, Mr. Cameron, may I have you for the first dance?" she held out her hand and Alex led her to a spot on the dance floor where a man in a black mask was standing alone, he looked somewhat out of place here, so Danny immediately felt a connection with him.
"Would yae care tae join us sir? we only need one more partner after yae." She asked, putting on her best smile.
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Post by Dallas on May 20, 2012 23:16:21 GMT -5
>>DOMINIK What a strange mixture of British and Colonists. So many people everywhere. Most of them seemed to be having a good time, while others were only mildly interested. He stood there and simply glanced around with his hands behind his back. He did wonder who exactly all these people were and if he even knew any of them. One of these people could be Andreas... That was highly unlikely though. Andreas was a Brunswick soldier and he doubted they'd give an invitation to any of the Hessians or Brunswickers. Still the thought of his brother being In the same room sent a shiver down his spine.
He sighed slightly as he looked over to another couple who were standing in a corner of the room. If only he had someone to be there with. Well actually he didn't care much for that sort of thing at the moment. There were much more important things to do any how. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two people coming closer to him. At first he just stood still and assumed that they weren't coming towards him. Why would they anyway? His hair is cut short so he probably looked like the most lowly person at the ball. That was when the woman with the funny accent started to speak to him.
"Would yae care tae join us sir? we only need one more partner after yae." She was smiling at him when he turned his head towards her. At first he just looked blankly at her and tried to comprehend what she had just said. The mixture of that strange accent with the fast pace that English speakers spoke in left him bewildered. The accent actually sounded slightly British, but only slightly. It might possibly be a different dialect, or some where near Britain.... Whatever those countries were called.
Still he needed to say something because she had obviously asked him a question. “All right.” He said faintly and wasn't sure what he had just possibly agreed to. |
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Post by The Author. on May 21, 2012 16:30:36 GMT -5
Inga looked around as the music started, hopefully for another girl and another boy to dance. It would be weird if she was the only girl, or Anders the only boy. She saw no one else much that needed two partners.
Anders sighed. "Let's just not." He said. "I'm horrid at dancing with more than one other person anyways." He added.
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Post by faithfulguardian on May 24, 2012 19:04:35 GMT -5
Danny, Alex, and their new dance partner with the quiet foreign voice found another female guest in a bronze mask shaped like a giant autumn leaf. similar leaves decorated her tall wig and the colour matched that of her wide dress. they foursome took their places on the dance floor and waited for the steps to begin. Danny started with Alex as a partner, but as the dance progressed she went across the circle to the other young man.
"If yae don't mind my asking sir, where is tha' accent from? I feel ah've heard it before." Danny asked him while they had their hands wrapped around each others. standing quite a few inches taller than him, especially with the heels, she had to bend her arm down more to match his own. she looked past the black mask and into his eyes, the blue reminded her of another man she had met not long ago, the Hessian man, Andreas.
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Post by Katie on May 24, 2012 23:53:25 GMT -5
Abby was a little nervous attending a ball unaccompanied. Last time it had been with her then fiance Ewan over six years ago and things had definitely changed. Here she was attending a masquerade ball with the prominent Abigail Adams and her family. She had met Mrs. Adams years ago before the war had even started and she had started to think of Mrs. Adams as a mother figure in her life. Ben her grandfather and Abigail's husband John Adams were currently in France trying to negotiate an alliance with the French, however, their luck had not been well so far. None the less Abby watched as the elder woman climbed down the carriage and smiled as they entered the hall. Everywhere Abby looked there was someone, or rather a masked person. She loved balls and wanted to make sure this one was better than the one before. "Abigail Adams and this is Abigail Franklin, our invitations," Abigail said to the man giving them the inviations, "My dear Abby, do not be worried. You shall have a good evening tonight." Mrs. Adams told her with a warm, caring, motherly smile and Abby knew that she was correct. "I hope you are correct Mrs. Adams. The place is crowded, there are so many people here." She replied. "More chances for you to meet someone." The elder woman pointed out with a small smirk and Abby could not help, but blush as they began to walk around staring at the beautiful decorations around the house. "You never know." Abby replied with a sigh. Hopefully she would have a good enough time tonight ,she thought as she straightened out her green dress that matched her hair color perfectly. *** Colonel Jack Stewart despised balls. He hated them, he loathed everything about one. So why was he going? That bloody sargeant leader of his troops was forcing all of the soldiers to go. Why? Jack scowled as he and his men entered the room searching for pretty women in pretty dresses. He sighed and rolled his eyes as his second in command immediately chased after a woman with her breasts about to burst from her dress. "I'm Colonel Jack Stewart and these morons are my men." Jack said handing a single invitation for the regiment towards the man and he nodded and pointed down the hallway where the music was playing. "John settle down, my God we just got here." He scolded with a scowl as he made his way over to the bar and asked for a pint of beer. "Why the scowl mate?" The bartender asked curiously as he handed Jack a mug of beer and Jack scowled once more taking a rather large gulp of beer and chunging it down. "I hate balls, anything like this. It makes my men turn into desperate morons than before. Just pour me another drink please." He replied barely remembering his manners with a heavy sigh wishing the night would be over by now. |
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Post by E.Parkreiner on May 27, 2012 12:24:45 GMT -5
Gord could hear the blurred murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses and the wisps of music even from a street away. As he approached the building, the glow from the lights within washed over the wide street, bathing everything in a diffuse light that stood in stark contrast to the alleys he had just traversed. Gord double checked the address against his invitation. Even though this was ‘the ball’ everyone was tittering about for the last week, and it was likely the only one occurring in a wide radius, Gord was still cautious to a fault. Perhaps this was a holdover from his work with explosives or, a more probable reason than Gord would care to admit, a product of his nerves. He adjusted his large beaked mask, thankful that its ornate design covered his missing eye well. At least if he somehow made a fool of himself it would be under blessed cover of anonymity. Straightening his coat and taking a deep breath he approached the doorman.
The hall was even larger than he had expected, and Gord paused at the entrance to take it all in. Or to steady himself. A dance had already begun, and the swishing of gowns, coats and cloaks combined with the bobbing of stacks of carefully powdered hair was oddly mesmerizing to him. The rest of the room was as decadent as its occupants; large frescoes covered the sections of wall that were not windows, and opulent chandeliers hung high above the crowd.
Gord realized that as much of a blessing that the masks were, they still meant that it would be difficult to find any of the few attendants that he knew. Furthermore he had arrived alone, and thus had a hard decision to make. He would either have to launch into a group, feigning interest in whatever politics or gossip they considered polite discourse, or drift over to a corner and pretend to blend into the artwork. Gord overheard a blustering portly gentlemen describe his unbelievable, truly unbelievable in Gord’s opinion, adventures to some half-interested women he had cornered. He left the gesticulating man to his ways, and headed to one of the walls. Maybe he would try again in a bit, he thought, and watched those dancing with envy.
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Post by Chørd on May 28, 2012 11:25:11 GMT -5
`HenriThe noise the ball was making could be heard several streets away, the racket of it all having been enough guidance for Paul-Henri to find his way to the occasion.
He swallowed agitatedly and approached the doorman, invitation in hand in case it was needed for his admittance. Despite him getting lost amongst the roads, he didn't appear late at all. In fact, groups were still heading inside after greeting the doorman.
Henri pulled a face. He knew very few people in the Colonies, and even less of that number he could even consider classing as friends. He felt at a loss with his beloved dogs gone from his side but, as he kept telling himself, finding a few human companions could do him no harm. As he went to surrender his invitation over for admittance two men pushed in front, far too consumed with bickering between themselves to even notice the Frenchman.
Henri glowered indignantly. Their accents confirmed his suspicions: they were British. And no doubt uppity prats at that.
"You look and smell like a whore," the younger, shorter of the two grumbled, then indicated to the red uniform of his companion. "And is wearing that really wise? To a masked ball?"
"Language! And there's no harm in doing so. I am proud to wear it," the other man retorted hotly, regarding his fair-haired companion with a look of disdain. "If it bothers you then by all means find other company. I have no intentions of skulking around with you all evening in any case - least of all with you dressed like a prized peacock."
At this the younger of the two pouted then turned and, as if noticing Henri's presence for the first time, double took.
"Sorry, chap," he had the decency to blush at least, Henri thought. "Didn't see you there. Are you attending?"
Henri could tell already he liked neither of the two men who, judging by the uniform one of them was wearing, were most likely British officers.
"I am," he bowed his head in greeting and held out his invite for the doorman who, with a nod of his head, held open the door for the three to enter. It didn't take long for the English couple to resume their squabbling, albeit ignoring the other guests as they took turns to fire insults at each other.
Henri shook his head. Really, if that was the sort of company on offer for this evening he was beginning to regret coming in the first place. Still, where there were British soldiers, there were bound to be Continentals. If he could find one of them to converse with then the evening wouldn't be a complete waste.
He took a crystal glass of wine from a tray held out to him by a servant and tracked the progress of the red-coated man and his supposed friend across the hall. They somehow managed to break from their argument long enough to engage two ladies in a dance.
Henri fidgeted from foot to foot uncomfortably and sipped at his drink. He hadn't any skill in 'handling' women, at all, and so doubted he'd summon the courage to ask one of the attending ladies to dance that night. Still, he was not alone. There were other men standing by themselves, either uninterested in dancing for the moment or unfortunate enough to have not found a partner in time. One such man seemed to be watching the dancers intently, with a look on his face that Henri interpreted as some form of longing - perhaps even envy.
He approached the stranger cautiously, clearing his throat to attract his attention and touching his hand to his tricorne in a respectful greeting to him.
"Good evening, m'sieur," he said, hoping his heavy accent would not hinder the clarity of his greeting in any way. "Are you awaiting someone?"
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Post by faithfulguardian on Jun 7, 2012 18:25:29 GMT -5
The Quadrille was finished too soon, and Danny retreated to the side of the room to rest her sore feet. the heels were a ridiculous height of two and a half inches, the highest she had ever worn. Alex had remained on the dance floor with the Autumn girl, too polite to refuse her the next dance, Danny chuckled to herself at his strained smile. poor fellow.
she gazed about the room, it had filled up a bit more since their entrance, and there were a lot more men lining the walls while women seated themselves by carefully perching on the edges of cushioned chairs and couches. the heights of wigs reached the absurd at this party and Danny reached up to adjust her small tricorn and trace the powdered wig that fell down onto her shoulder. she had opted for this rather than a 20 pound bundle of hair attached to the top of her head. she also opted for not joining them, and instead headed along the wall towards the bar, passing a tall man who kept one eye hidden in the shadows of his mask and the dim candle light who was being approached by a man with a clear french accent. there were truly men from everywhere here tonight!
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Post by Dallas on Jun 9, 2012 0:05:24 GMT -5
>>DOMINIK In no time he was dragged over to the dance floor by the woman and the man she had come with. They started some sort of four person dance. He had no clue how to dance, but tried his best to keep in step. He stepped on the toes of the autumn leaf masked woman once, but quickly apologized. Lucky for him she wasn't the type to get upset easily. Soon he switched over to the woman who had asked him to join in on the dance.
"If yae don't mind my asking sir, where is tha' accent from? I feel ah've heard it before." From what he could tell she was asking about his accent. Funny, considering she was the one with the thick accent to him. Of course she probably hadn't been around Germans much in her life if she was asking.
“I am from Germany. Came 'ere not one year ago.” He wanted to ask where her accent was from, but instead stayed silent for the rest of the dance. As soon as the music ended he nodded to his dance partners then got out of there as soon as he could. If there was one thing he learned this night it's that he does not like dancing. Very awkward and just pointless. There were so much better things that you could do instead. He headed straight for the bar once he broke away.
If he's to make it through the night he would definitely need at least one drink. He asked for a glass of wine and took the glass gratefully. As he took his first sip he over heard a Frenchman say something. He didn't care much for what he had said. He was more interested in recognizing the accent. His boss was French so he was accustomed to hearing English and German spoken with a French accent. There were a lot of people from different cultures. If he was lucky maybe he'd find another German to speak to. He highly doubted they'd be anyone other then a Duke or a Count though. |
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Post by faithfulguardian on Jul 6, 2012 16:50:58 GMT -5
"...And then I said - 'Musket? judging by the length, good sir, it's more like a pistol!'" Laughter burst from the mouths of all who stood at the bar. Danny had gone to get a drink and was welcomed immediately after ordering whiskey, she was given a seat and asked to tell a story about her obviously interesting life. she opted to tell a joke instead and it was also accepted.
"now, if yae'll excuse me gentleman, ah've a dance partner to rescue oot there." She smiled graciously as two or three offered their hands to help her up from the chair. most with light protests for her to tell another but all let her pass when she gave them a glance of her dark brown eyes from behind the golden mask.
As she walked back towards the dance floor, she suddenly decided she had no wish to dance again so soon, the brief rest was not long enough for her sore feet and so she waited by the side next to the man with the french accent she had heard before, he stood silently by the wall since his conversation partner had walked off somewhere.
Danny decided to try for a conversation of her own.
"Bonjour, Monsieur, comment ca va?"
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Post by Chørd on Aug 1, 2012 17:30:26 GMT -5
`Henri Before he could even get a conversation in, his companion had left, leaving Henri fidgeting at the side of the hall uncomfortably, on his own again. He frowned to himself, trying to talk himself into having a little more confidence. He'd never been shy in France - but then again, everyone spoke his language there. Granted a fair few of the richer folk here must likely were multi-lingual, if they'd received the same level of education he had, but that still didn't make it any easier. He felt like an outsider.
He glanced over towards the main serving bar, where a group of men and women alike had burst into hearty laughter at something or another. He itched to go join them, but remained where he was, turning his attention back to the dancers taking to the floor again, trying to entertain himself by trying to spot the two men he'd happened to 'meet' earlier, though they weren't in sight. If the way they'd been squabbling was anything to go by, he suspected they had probably left to settle the matter with their fists or otherwise.
He laughed to himself at that. Englishmen. Their heads were stuffed full of wool, he was certain of it.
He was so busy lost in his own musings, that when a young lady at his side spoke to him he stared at her blankly for a moment, merely blinking as he tried to work out if she was, actually, talking to him. He grinned broadly when he realised she'd spoken French to him, though. Her question must have been aimed at him then, unless another Frenchman was stood beside him. It was all he took not to breathe a sigh of relief: finally, someone who spoke his language and was happy to converse with him, even if her accent did hint that French was perhaps not her first language.
"Ca va bien, merci, et toi?" He gave a small shrug then. "If it's easier for you though, I can speak English," he said, his accent heavy but his speech still somewhat understandable.
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