dizzy_land | Party in Fantasyland! (Open to All)

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Party in Fantasyland! (Open to All)

The loading area and deck in front of It's a Small World had been transformed. Two large tables had been set up, one bearing the music equipment that Cayce had lugged over from Tomorrowland, the other marked out for food and drink. Another food table was set up at the shop.

Various other places in the vicinity had been marked out as well: a wide space for a dance floor; another wide space with a sign RESERVED FOR STARBUCK posted; a grassy area marked RESERVED FOR M. BEAUFORT; and the loading area was marked RESERVED FOR KIRA AND SETSUNA. Over the walk up to the ride, Cayce had hung a large hand-lettered banner that read:

IT'S A SMALL UNIVERSE (ALL OF THEM)

She'd raided every shop in the park for decorations, and pillars and eaves were festooned with Disneyfied representations of various cultures; there was some Mulan merchandise here, a few items ganked from the Indiana Jones Adventure there. Cayce herself felt, somewhat ruefully, that she wasn't capable of being much more than a representation of early 21st-century urban America, so she wore the dress Crowley had given her. Anyone who was expecting her to do a reprise of the bikini business would be sadly disappointed.

~

After Cayce felt that a critical mass of crowd had been achieved, she went to the music system and turned on the microphone.

"Hi there, everyone. It's good to see you here, and thanks for playing along with my silly party idea. It's kind of a squishy liberal American thing to say—see, I'm representing my culture now—but can I just say that it's great to see the diversity here, and to see everyone taking pride in where they come from. So, thanks. Especially to Psyche, for letting us tromp all over her home and for keeping the music under control; to Crowley as always for the booze; and to everyone who brought something to share." She started to put the mic down, then remembered: "Oh, and thank you to Kira and Setsuna, who will be starting a limbo contest shortly." She grinned. "So if you think you're up for it, see how low you can go." A self-deprecating laugh at the cheesiness of what she'd just said. "Thanks again for coming, and have fun."

((Party time! Talk amongst yourselves, hassle Cayce, get drunk and ride through It's a Small World (not recommended), and otherwise have fun. Feel free to set your post before or after Cayce's little speech.))

((ETA: Here's the limbo thread!))

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"I'll have to remember that then. I may end up monopolizing your time then you will be sick of me!" Marguerite teased as she reached for her cup of wine and continued to fan herself.

"It's nice for someone to have a monopoly on my time, though," he sipped his wine and shrugged, "At home, the free market demand was tearing me to pieces, I'm sure." Which was a liberal economics joke, which she might not get, he thought a little too late, as Adam Smith wasn't even born then.

Marguerite smiled and nodded pretending she knew what he was speaking about. Time differences, she assumed. "Oh! Did you ever contact that other fellow about all this?" Marguerite asked.

Beaufort nodded, "Ah, yes. He's apparently, very musical. Or can play the piano at least. I've yet to see evidence of this, but I'm happy to take his word for it. He should come by at some time. Tamaki Suoh, although I've probably butchered the pronuciation."

"The piano! How wonderful! Music is such a treasure I find." Marguerite smiled happy for the change in topic which was something she knew more of. "Perhaps we'll meet him then!" Marguerite laughed, "No need to worry! I'm sure he'll let us know how we're supposed say his name. I'm sure he's learned not everyone here has such a wide range of--" What was the word she was looking for? "Well, that not everyone knows certain things considering the lapses in time that occur." She specified.

"I hope he will. Not to mention I don't have the first clue how to start pronouncing anything in Japanese." Beaufort shrugged, "He did tell me his French name though, but it escapes my memory." Which made him feel rather foolish, for a start. But hopefully, he'd introduce himself to Marguerite anyway.

Speak of the Devil...

Tamaki was somewhat late for the party, mostly because he had managed to convince a blond man who had called himself Leon to help him move the piano to the Small World ride. After Tamaki had tried unsuccessfully to help, Leon had snapped at him to get lost and that he'd meet him at the Small World ride with the piano. Tamaki had stopped helping, but didn't leave Leon to fend for himself, and eventually he and Leon managed to make it to the ride, Leon painting and sweating up a storm, and Tamaki cheerful and upbeat as usual. He searched out the French flag, got Leon to drop the piano there, and attempted to thank Leon before the older man headed toward the booze table.

"Bonjour," Tamaki sing-songed as he walked up to them. "You must be Monsieur Beaufort," he said, bowing lowly. He turned toward Marguerite. "Et tu," he started, studying her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are. I'm ashamed of myself for not being introduced to such a beautiful woman such as yourself earlier. I am Tamaki Suou."

A piano! Marguerite watched as two men brought over the large instrument before who she assumed was the gentlemen they had just been speaking of. Marguerite blushed at his kind words. "Oh nonsense! There is always something going on here so please do not feel ashamed!" Marguerite smiled brightly at the man. "I am Marguerite Blakeney, it is a pleasure to meet you sir." She said standing and said with a curtsie.

A party! How Percy adored a party! A gala! A ball! A social occasion that would allow him to make a fool out of himself and embarrass the hell out of everyone else around him! Oh what joy!

Percy frowned when he strode into the main pavilion of the little fête. "Sink me!" he cried softly, strolling in and observing the on-goings in a rather distant manner. "No dancing, no card playing, what sort of party is this?" he commented to no one in particular.

He spotted Beaufort and his lady love and...a harpsichord of some sort over by themselves and appropriately decorated with a kind of French flair. Sneakily he crept along until he was standing behind the large Frenchman and Marguerite, then stuck his head in between the two with a loud, "Hello!" He had his hand up to his face and his quizzing glass centered on Monsieur Beaufort, giving the party his best inane and merry laugh. "Weeeell, if it isn't Citizen Boofort! And Marguerite, how absolutely charming company! Say, ain't it a shame, no dancing at this little gala. Lud love me, an absolute disaster, what!"

Beaufort was about to say hello to Tamaki, who had brought a piano, when...oh, the Englishman. He glared at him out of the side of his eyes, then gave Tamaki a nod and a smile, "Bonjour, I see...you managed to get a whole piano. That...very well done. It's very nice to see you here."

Not a word to Percy. He'd much prefer it if he really could just...go away, the idiot.

Marguerite had jumped up some what startled by Percy's arrival and she had to remind herself to cover up her smile. "Sir Percy! To what do we owe such a pleasure? I am surprised you are not showing up your fellow Englishmen!" Marguerite smiled coyly at Percy.

"Marguerite? Such a beautiful name. It's quite fitting."

Tamaki smiled at Beaufort. "Yes," he said. "Of course, I wouldn't've been able to bring it if it weren't for the kind Mr. Leon Orcot," he said, gesturing at the disgruntled man who grabbing a couple of bottles of beer at the moment. "It's a pleasure to meet another Frenchman, I must say."

He turned his smile to Percy. "It is rather a shame that there isn't any dancing, isn't it, sir?" Tamaki asked. "Not that such a terrible occurrence isn't easily fixed."

Of course Percy had noticed that M. Beaufort had not even acknowledged his presence - and it pleased him immensely. He let the others speak and stalked around the little French picnic, grinning to himself as he observed the little flags and show of nationality here and there.

He began to hum 'God Save the King'.

Then he began to sing it at the top of his lungs. He danced about the Frenchies, making sure to serenade Monsieur Beaufort especially, pausing in the midst of his song to make a proper introduction to Tamaki. "Afraid we've not met, my dear musical fellow. Sir Percy Blakeney, at your service." He bowed and then gave a great grin to his wife. "Ah, Madame, will you grace us tonight with a song? Something appropriately French, of course!"

Beaufort carried on his conversation with Tamaki as if nobody was there, getting up and offering his hand to shake, "It's a pleasure to meet you too. I had the fear we were rather lonely to begin with. And...you persuaded him to help you bring a piano? I'm not sure who to be more impressed with." And then? That Englishman started to sing. He gritted his teeth and tried not to break with his determination not to say anything to him, but then decided he had to say something, "Well, I must agree. Say, Tamaki, do you know La Marseillaise?" He smirked a little at Percy, "That might be suitibly patriotic. Although, then again, I don't know, some monarchists might take offence at such a republican anthem. What do you think, Sir Percy?" Ahem.

Marguerite noticed the lack of conversation between the men. As much as she loved Percy she knew how he could be and she tried not to laugh as Percy went on and Jean-Etieinne continued to ignore him. Marguerite's heart skipped a beat when Percy grinned at her. How she loved that grin and the fact that it was directed at her once again did nothing to help the matter.

"I would but I don't think anyone would know the tune to any of the songs I knew," Marguerite explained to her husband.

"Please, sir," Percy drawled with a grin, "La Marseillaise is so...droll. However I could not object to Ça Ira! It's the fashion in London, what! Why, the quaint little song of the Parisian mobs. What more could you ask for, Citizens? My French is terrible, do forgive me, I only know of it in mostly English. How does it goes now?"

He tapped his quizzing glass to his lips and then smiled when the thought struck him. "Ah, yes! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! The people of this day neverendingly sing! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! In spite of the traitors, all will succeed!" Percy then did a little dance, continuing on in purposefully mangled French, "Nos ennemis confus en restent là, et nous allons chanter Alleluya! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira!"

He grabbed Marguerite by the arms and swung her about, gaily singing away still. "Come now, m'dear! You taught this to me! Sing along!"

Beaufort gritted his teeth, noting the mangling of his language and resisted the urge to say something frightfully rude, as he knew how to keep face, if nothing else. "Sir, I do wonder exactly why you think you know more of my country than I do. You don't know what it means in your heart to be French, and you never will. Do not mock me." He might not have been, but it certainly felt to Beaufort like he was being mocked. Perhaps for other reasons than that, but they were best left alone.

Marguerite nearly choked on her wine when Percy started singing Ça Ira. She could see it now, Percy was thinking, pondering leasurily before he made his next move. The tale tale quizzing glass to his lips as she watched him.

She couldn't help but laugh when he started singing, oh then the dancing! Marguerite found herself on her feet and being twirled about "When Boileau once spoke about the clergy, "Like a prophet he predicted as much., By singing my ditty, With pleasure I will say:" Marguerite sang along while she laughed. " Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, Malgré les mutins tout réussira. Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira!" Marguerite continued to dance (if you could call it that) about with Percy, laughing more than she had in sometime.

The song of the people! Percy paid no heed to Beaufort, twirling his wife as they belted out Ça Ira like excited children trailing behind a rallying mob. But finally, when the song died on his lips, Percy could take no more of the grumpy man and his superiority. "Sir!" Percy gasped, letting his wife go gently, "Mock you?"

"Mock you? True, while I am not French in nationality, I am French in spirit. I might not say so explicitly, for it is not my way, I love France very much. I love the French very much. Viva la France!" At this his eyes fell upon his wife, and he smiled ever-so-slightly in her direction. "And, Citizen Booford, that is all that I have to say on the matter." He began to sign Ça Ira once more, humming the ditty softly to himself. Beaufort was forgotten once again.

"Marguerite, m'dear, would you care to join your silly husband on a walk?"

Marguerite had heard Beaufort of course but to be honest she was so caught up in singing and dancing with Percy she hadn't time to let it sink in. She of course knew Percy loved France dearly, but as he spoke she couldn't help but be in awe of the fire he spoke with about her home. She looked to Beaufort for a response and felt Percy's eyes on her. She met them gladly and was pleased to see a smile upon his face.

"I--" she looked over to Jean-Etienne and curtsied. "Pardon us, I'm afraid I have too much energy to sit now!" Marguerite explained with a smile before joining her husband. "I would like nothing more. For a silly husband begets a silly wife in this situation, no?"

Beaufort grimaced to himself, not really believing a word of Percy's, he had no reason to fall for any of that. From what he could see, the man was doing nothing but mocking him, and his language at least.

He gave Marguerite a polite nod, "Au revoir. I shall see you." He helped himself to more wine, sat back and resisted the urge to curse under his breath. What the hell did that idiot, that English idiot, have over him? He sighed and gave up on thinking about it for now. Maybe he'd go and bother that officious German woman.

Percy gently took dear Marguerite's arm and happily pulled her away from the grumpy Frenchman and the stranger with the harpsichord. "A silly husband is very lucky to have found a silly wife to romp through the Park with him on such a night," he remarked quietly, and with his face turned and pressed against her sweet little ear.

Oh, he thought about turning and giving Beaufort a sneaky smile, but his manners got the better of him. He knew what it was like to be in love with Marguerite St. Just. It happened to the best of men, for who could resist her? But she was his, and his alone, and he was going to prove that he in turn was hers as well.

Marguerite smiled at her husband as they walked. "Yes, it is very lucky indeed. Particularly that the silly wife is your own wife. What a stroke of lucky for us!" She teased him lightly. Her breath caught in her throat when he pressed his face against her. "Even luckier that this silly wife has been made so silly by her own silly husband."

Marguerite's other hand went to his the sleeve of the arm that held her hand. Any excuse to touch him, be close to him was good for her. She traced over the embroidery of his overcoat and smiled at the shape of the flower she felt.

"I implore my silly wife never to think too harshly of her oftentimes foolish husband, for he means no disrespect in his jesting," Percy then added, softly reaching across himself to touch the hand that was touching his arm. "I'd hate to think that I insulted Monsieur Beaufort with my silly little display of eighteenth century patriotism. Truly, the man doesn't understand what France means to me, because of what it means to you. So, do apologise for your silly husband, for he meant no harm to the gentleman who has been so good to his dear wife."

Percy kissed the side of his dear Marguerite's face. "Please, love," he murmured.

"Perhaps before, but now?" Marguerite said softly looking up into his deep blue eyes. "Now, I know better." She explained kissing the hand that touched her own. "When you spoke before, there was such," Marguerite paused for a moment to think of the right word. "Such emotion in you eyes Percy. Surely, it is not all on my account? I will," Her dear, dear Percy. How many things where still hidden from her. "Did you see?" She asked, motioning to her hair. "I made the little X's for England. Perhaps not that patriotic, or fashionable but I was unsure of what to do."

If her answer wasn't already yes, it was now. Closing her eyes Marguerite sighed at the gesture. "Percy," she said softly. "Of course. Anything,"

Party in Fantasyland! (Open to All)

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