voidtreckerexpress | 3 Kazoo - Adult Ballroom Social and Epic Kids' Game Night

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3 Kazoo - Adult Ballroom Social and Epic Kids' Game Night

Who: Everyone
Where: Wardrobe, Gym Car, Music Car, Games Car
When: 3 Kazoo, Evening
What: The much-awaited-and-discussed Adult Ballroom Social (and children's side event)
Warnings: None

You've seen the flyers. You've heard the announcements. You've ordered additional party reinforcements if you wanted them. Some of you have even helped her to prepare. And now it's finally here - the Adult Ballroom Social that she's been planning these many, many week-and-a-half.

But you wouldn't know it only took that long to throw it together. She's gone all out for this one. Including the wardrobe that's been opened up, there are four cars that have been set aside for tonight. The main ballroom floor is in the non-training gym, which has been cleared and decorated for the occasion. The music is being piped in from the music car, where it's still playing for those who would prefer a more intimate and private setting. Meanwhile, the game room has been set out for the kids who would otherwise be left out of this adult and near-adult event.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Isn't red a signal of romantic availability?" She asked, and then insisted: "I'm not afraid of it. Merely wary."

Semantics, Guri-edition. The truth was...complicated. When she'd been just a thing, with no free will, she'd been used as a tool of seduction, used for her form - but there had never been romance involved. No feeling, just pretense.

Now, self-aware, the ideas of intimacy, romance, and attraction were foreign to her - but attractive. And such things were deeply scary.

"I suppose this could work," she says, then huffs. "I am sorry to be difficult. This is my first such occasion. As myself."

He'll understand that last.

"You know what, I have no idea, but that sure does explain a few things." Peggy Carter's red dress, for one. "And don't worry about it. I don't mind a little difficult. It'll be a project." They flash her a warm smile, and go digging for more warm colors, preferably in styles that will flatter her. Fit they're slightly less concerned about, because they can do some quick alterations of they need to.

In the end, they offer a burgundy gown that's not quite red with a hip-high slit in the skirt, brown velvet that's so dark it's almost black with draping sleeves and a small train, and a rose pink number with a high neckline but low back. "Any of these catch your fancy?"

If she had the concept of warm explained to her, she would be more eager - but as it stands she immediately gravitates to the burgundy.

"I like this one," she says, decisively. She can't quite put her finger on why. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Great." They lay the burgundy dress across her arm, and go to put the other two back. "Put that on and let me see what needs altering so it fits right, yeah? Can't have it hanging wrong."

She nods, decisively, then immediately starts to remove her jumpsuit.

One thing she does utterly lack? Human mores regarding modesty.

You know what, one of Soldat's favorite people back in Beacon (and now on the train) is a nudist. They can handle it. They are not, in fact, particularly surprised. Murder machines tend to not be particularly body shy, in their (admittedly limited) experience. Too vulnerable to be comfortable disrobing in front of strangers anymore, maybe, but not shy. And it was a gradual thing, for them, after not being asked to do it for too long.

So they make no comment, they just hang the other dresses up and take a moment to peer at some waistcoats to wear under the jacket, one rack over, while she changes. "Let me know if you need help doing up the zipper," they say, not even sneaking a peak. Soldat is not remotely interested in people's bodies except in keeping them safe, fed, and looking sharp in proper clothes.

Which, really, just made things somebody else's problem, well on in the future.

She does present the zipper side to him, though, for the sake of convenience, then turns, looking...surprisingly a bit nervous.

"Does it suit?"

They zip her up and stand back, giving her a critical look up and down. "The color is good. Brings out nice highlights in your hair and makes your eyes look deeper. The style's nice. Needs some adjustments to the bustline, I think. I can do that for you, real quick, if you want."

She nods, making a little 'mm-hmm' sound.

"Yes, please. I trust your eye."

They hold out the flesh hand, hovering a moment to show her what they're going to do, then pinch at the shoulder of the gown a little, gauging how much to let out, then nod. "Off again, please. Shouldn't take long, there's a ton of thread in here here, like the train expects us to make adjustments." Or maybe just expects Soldat to, they don't know. They have been spending a lot of time sewing lately, between dance lessons and cooking.

She nods happily, slipping back out of it.

"It feels nice, on my skin," she comments, handing it over. "You appear to have a prodigious talent for this."

"Lots of experience on dates with lots of girls. And many years being a vain young brat, I think." (Hey! You aren't him, Sarge. Still!) They lay the dress out and bustle over to a cupboard for the thread. "And there weren't a lot of tailors in Beacon, so I had to learn that. Well. Learn it better. I knew the basics of mending, but not so much altering."

She simply stands there, hands folded behind her back, without the slightest concern for her nudity. If he is observant, he may notice that in the cool air, the skin on her arms even gets goosebumps - that is how close a replica she was meant to be from the start.

But she just watches, interested.

"Did you ever wish to become a tailor?"

"I was a murder machine for seventy years, I never thought about anything but that. And then I was on a dead world with twelve other people." They give a helpless little shrug, and pull a knife from a sheath hidden under a pocket in their stupid purple cargo pants to clip a length of thread off. "We all just did what we could, there. And now I'm here, and. I am pretty sure nobody needs a tailor full-time."

"Perhaps wherever you go next, then? Even if nobody needed it, though - perhaps the act itself would bring comfort. Working towards mastery?"

Her perspectives are, often, quite unusual. Especially when it comes to things like purpose.

"Mmm. I think I'd rather be a cook," they say thoughtfully. "Fixing up clothes for people is good. But feeding them is better." They start making some very small, very neat stitches to the inside of her dress, creating another little dart in the bustline on the right side. "I definitely get a lot of comfort out of feeding people. This is just nice to make sure I'm not wincing when I look at them." Well, some of them. They're not exactly critiquing the whole train, that's just rude.

Not out loud, anyway.

"Useful," she replies, and makes a mental note to show interest in his cooking and be sure to eat it.

It's not that she needs to eat, but she can digest and everything. Might as well keep the systems running at peak efficiency.

And then, an idea occurs.

"You could teach me to cook, a little, maybe? I've never done it, ever."

They glance up, a little surprised. "If you want to. Sure. I'm in the kitchen car all the time, just stop by." They haven't really done a lot of teaching of how to cook-- other things, sure, but cooking seems... different. Nobody's really seemed to care to learn until they got here.

No time, no opportunity, no inclination - there's many reasons she hadn't before. But now, there is time. And she enjoys their company, she finds.

"I do. I find you to be pleasant company. And i is a skill I have not appreciated before. I have discovered that I enjoy learning."

They give her about half a smile for the compliment, amused. "Well, glad I'm showing the lady a good time." That time, the dip into a Brooklyn accent was at least on purpose. They cut off the thread from the first new dart, and flip the dress around to make a mirror on on the other side.

"So far, you have always been both courteous and informative - two things I was not often able to either receive or gain access to."

She keeps watching, too, making for a most unusual student - completely unconcerned about the world and not effected at all by being cold. And waiting patiently.

"I think I should keep my hair down for this one," she said, thoughtfully. "What do you think?"

"Well, I had plenty of people helping me, when I first got free. Least I can do is treat others with that much respect. Besides, you're my friend."

They glance up at her, considering her hair. Studiously ignoring the naked bits. "It'll set off nice against the gown, if you leave it down," they decide. "And it'll be more casual, which I think suits the shoulders." Then they tie off the second dart, and offer the dress back. "Try that one more time?"

If she had a tail, it might actually have wagged there. Do people just throw those terms around like it's normal? Friend.

She visibly perked, taking back the dress. "Yes, right," she said, shimmying into it as quickly as she could, turning and lifting her hair so he could zip her up.

Once you've breached the friend-word with Soldat, it's forever, at least until they've been told in no uncertain term that friendship is rescinded. Better get used to it, Guri.

They zip her up then give her shoulders a little push-and-pull, gentle-like, to encourage her turning around. They look her up and down. "I think that'll do. It lays right, now. Find yourself some shoes and you're good, I think."

"Shoes, yes, I can find shoes that match."

That part isn't hard. It helps that heels or no heels isn't really material to her.

"Thank you," she says. And then goes to leave, then turns back around.

"I believe at this juncture I should give you a hug, as I have no other means of expressing my thanks."

It's a soft request for permission, really. She's still figuring out the rules on touch. She's luckily got the strength of it down, though, so.

3 Kazoo - Adult Ballroom Social and Epic Kids' Game Night

CW: consent issues

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Please let me know if you have a specific style in mind. I'm kinda picturing off the shoulder?

slit was the only thing I specifiedXD feel free to fill in everything else yourself!

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wow somehow archived this on accident, sorry about that!

No worries!

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