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Homecoming 2020 | Town Hall | Saturday Evening
Saturday, October 24th, 2020 08:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookbeltof_loveHomecoming wasn't actually on Halloween (though it was awfully close) which was why Nina careened into Maeve and Shuri's rooms with the siren cry of 'Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' far, far too early in the morning and managed to wrangle her fellow StuCo people down to help her move tables and chairs for the party.
She possibly managed this feat on sheer enthusiastic punctuation alone.
Then, once that was done, she politely, but firmly, booted them both out and locked the doors with a clarion cry of, "I'll let you in later so we can set out the food and drinks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go take a nap or something!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", before she settled in for the real work of it all.
It took most of the day—which was why she and Prompto had gotten their work done the night before—but, when Nina was finished, the hall had been transformed.
Quite literally.
The walls had been covered in black sequins, the floors were black marble veined with gold, and the ceiling glittered like a hundred thousand stars were trapped inside of it. Disco balls spun, throwing sparkles down, and strobe lighting danced about, making the shadows darker in contrast.
Each table was covered in heavy black lace tablecloths that were liberally edged in silver and orange glitter (in case you thought you were getting way with a party with no glitter), and candelabrum were spaced out, one on every other table, to add to the ambiance.
The pièce de résistance was… The Bus. Oh yes. Over by where the chaperones tended to linger was The Bus. How had it gotten into the hall? Nina wasn't telling. But she and Prompto had dressed it in a lacy, gothic ball gown and given the front window eyes (green) with huge, curling eyelashes and a pouting red-lipsticked mouth. The windows along the sides and back had been frosted over so that the multi-coloured strobe lighting from within sent refractions of sparkling light leaping around The Bus. A halo of romanticism!
Since The Bus couldn't speak (and all attempts at pulling that off had a) been hilariously horrible and b) been really weird), a huge, elegantly calligraphic note was set upon an easel beside The Bus that read:
Anakin, would you do me the honour of being mine?
Oh yes.
Everything was perfect.
[Wait for the OCD is up! Come get your party on!
Maeve, Shuri, Prompto and The Bus all modded with permission!]
She possibly managed this feat on sheer enthusiastic punctuation alone.
Then, once that was done, she politely, but firmly, booted them both out and locked the doors with a clarion cry of, "I'll let you in later so we can set out the food and drinks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go take a nap or something!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", before she settled in for the real work of it all.
It took most of the day—which was why she and Prompto had gotten their work done the night before—but, when Nina was finished, the hall had been transformed.
Quite literally.
The walls had been covered in black sequins, the floors were black marble veined with gold, and the ceiling glittered like a hundred thousand stars were trapped inside of it. Disco balls spun, throwing sparkles down, and strobe lighting danced about, making the shadows darker in contrast.
Each table was covered in heavy black lace tablecloths that were liberally edged in silver and orange glitter (in case you thought you were getting way with a party with no glitter), and candelabrum were spaced out, one on every other table, to add to the ambiance.
The pièce de résistance was… The Bus. Oh yes. Over by where the chaperones tended to linger was The Bus. How had it gotten into the hall? Nina wasn't telling. But she and Prompto had dressed it in a lacy, gothic ball gown and given the front window eyes (green) with huge, curling eyelashes and a pouting red-lipsticked mouth. The windows along the sides and back had been frosted over so that the multi-coloured strobe lighting from within sent refractions of sparkling light leaping around The Bus. A halo of romanticism!
Since The Bus couldn't speak (and all attempts at pulling that off had a) been hilariously horrible and b) been really weird), a huge, elegantly calligraphic note was set upon an easel beside The Bus that read:
Anakin, would you do me the honour of being mine?
Oh yes.
Everything was perfect.
[
Maeve, Shuri, Prompto and The Bus all modded with permission!]