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!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't... didn't... I don't approve of their methods," the Doctor confessed. "Too many guns, too much bravado and not enough understanding. Torchwood One's motto was 'If it's alien, it's ours. Can you believe that? And that included yours truly when the opportunity arose." He sniffed. "But I haven't ever been to Torchwood Three. And Jack's smarter than that. I do trust him, and I'm sure they do their best. Imagine I'll run into them someday, then maybe we'll see."

"Never underestimate the thickness of a person when faced with something he doesn't understand," Una said. "For everyone's sake, I hope your Jack and his people are as good as you say."

She gave him a wry look. "We do have a way of raking over the past when we talk like this, don't we? And at a party, no less." She tutted a little, not seriously.

((*keeps comments to self about how T3's motto should be "Saving the World, One Fuckup At a Time"* ^_^ Oh, Torchwood. I do love you guys, but sometimes...))

"Me too," he said, expression heartfelt, and then answered her wry look with a sheepishly-bemused one of his own. "It is weird. I think it's your fault; I don't normally ever talk about the past. And well, the party, well, it sort of inspires" -homesickness- "thinking about the past, doesn't it? Everyone thinking about home and what they left behind. In a good way, but still."

((*Cannot count the number of TW/DW crossovers she's read in which the Doctor shows up at Torchwood 3 and is like, 'Omg you're joking right? Seriously people, EPIC FAIL!' then takes away their toys and makes friends with the Weevils and yells at Jack a lot*))

She ducked her head, a little abashed. "Sorry. I suppose I'm having a little too much fun getting to know you. And your world. So I keep asking questions..." A small sigh. "And you're right, of course; the whole concept of this party brings on nostalgia, by its very nature." She looked up with a slightly mischievous twinkle in her eye. "How about something a little lighter in the nostalgia department? I believe you still owe me a dance, you know."

((One of my favourite crossovers of that genre included the Doctor snapping at Jack, "Is that the official Torchwood motto? 'It seemed like a good idea at the time'?" Alas, said example now appears to be behind f-lock.))

It's alright," he said, and was only mildly surprised -it's one of the things Martha used to get cross with him about, he knows, and she (Una and Martha both) deserves (deserved) better than that (even if it scares him sometimes)- that he really meant it. To cover he added;"I am rather interesting. And do you know, I'd almost forgotten? But I did promise, didn't I?" He smiled back at her, a little shyly.

((Hahaha.))

Edited 2008-08-22 16:57 (UTC)

She tapped him lightly in the middle of the chest, as if gently reprimanding (though she was smiling). "You did." And it seemed like an eternity ago; so much water over the dam in the interim.

Cayce's music setup had been cycling randomly through various songs throughout. Una cocked her head, recognising the opening bars of "I've Got You Under My Skin (https://rcpt.yousendit.com/599699951/5957021a49ac8f8bd44de722a5493b6c)". A funny and possibly ironic choice, considering oh so many things, but... "Will this suit?"

"Sure." He caught the hand at his chest, and, on some strange impulse he wouldn't be able to explain later, brought it to his lips to brush a kiss on her knuckles, before shifting to pull her closer and sliding one hand around her back.

The last time he'd danced with anyone was as John Smith, and he really really hoped that he was a better dancer in this body than that experience had led him to believe. For the sake of her toes, if nothing else.

Edited 2008-08-22 17:37 (UTC)

There was a tiny, sharp intake of breath when he kissed her hand, but it was unlikely anyone would notice it over the music and the ambient noise.

She settled into his arms with the casual comfort of an experienced dancer and beamed up at him. "Lead on."

The first few steps were a little awkward and not quite in rhythm, but after a moment he found the beat and seemed to relax.

"Pretty song," he remarked as he settled into it, letting their movements become a little more fluid and natural. There, not so hard then. He knew he could do it. Never doubted himself for a second.

He was tense and for a moment she was almost sorry for having pushed the point, but then she could feel him grow more at ease with each step. And like a good follow, she knew how to make the most timorous lead look good—and boost his own confidence in the process.

"Cole Porter was a brilliant man," she agreed, and without missing a step, sang softly with the refrain:

I'd sacrifice anything, come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats and repeats in my ear:
Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?
Use your mentality, wake up to reality.
But each time that I do just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin
'Cause I've got you under my skin.

He was quiet for a while, listening to her sing, and by the time the refrain had finished he'd gotten comfortable enough to put their long legs to better use and move them about the space a little more.

"Ever met him?" he asked. "We ever get out of here maybe I could take you." It's a deeply ingrained habit, that offer, and it made him feel a little better, even knowing that she might never be able to take him up on it. "You're very good at this."

Edited 2008-08-23 18:07 (UTC)

He seemed enough at ease that Una felt she had the room to fancy things up a bit: a neat extra flourish here and there.

"I was at the same party with him, once. We never actually met." At the offer, her eyes widened a little, not quite startled but close, and then she grinned. "I'd like that."

She bowed her head a little at the compliment. "Thank you. Lots of practice, really."

"Always thought it was harder for women, or whoever's following, anyway. It's easier to lead. Plus I never have to wear any high shoes." He winked at her, hand slipping a little further down her back.

"But doesn't the lead have to figure out where it's all going?" she said. "But anyway, I don't see you as the court-shoe type." She leaned in, just a little.

"Easy part," the Doctor insisted, and then gave a comical mock-shudder at the mention of court shoes. "Nah, did that once and it was enough. I'll stick to the trainers. And Reinnette did say she liked them. 'Course that was the yellow high-tops, but still."

"They suit you. The trainers, whatever the colour." She grinned "Reinette?"

He smiled happily at the compliment. "Can't save the world in court shoes. Well you can, but why add the extra obstacle. And there comfortable! Trainers I mean. Not court shoes. Brr."

"Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, also known as Madame de Pompadour, or Reinette to her friends. Hang on to your elbows, I'm going to try a fancy turn."

It wasn't really fancy, in fact it was a pretty basic ballroom dancing-style set of turns around the space. But it still looked pretty good, and he was laughing and pleased by the end of it.

"I've saved the world in some pretty unlikely clothes," she joked, more than a little mischief in her expression. That might not have been entirely fair.

"Beautifully done!" she laughed at the end of the pattern, and it really rather was. "I remember now. You learned eighteenth-century French court dancing from her. Remarkable woman. So I've heard, anyway."

"I'm sure you have," he agreed, grinning. "And yes, she really is. In more ways than one. Smart, incredibly brave. Also a very good dancer. I imagine you'd 've got on."

"Perhaps I'll find my way back there someday," she said. "Among all the other trips I'm hoping to take, in any case." Of course, that assumed a reason for being there; sightseeing was, for Una, a luxury.

"Perhaps you will," he agreed, "My Universe can't be the only one she might need a hand in." He pulled her a little closer, curling his hand down around her lower back, cheek brushing her hair. "Thank you," he murmured.

Her hand, almost of its own accord, moved from where it rested on his shoulder to a spot closer to his collar. She tilted her head slightly to look at him. So close. "For what?"

She was close enough to probably feel the slight shrug he started to offer in response.

"I was moping," he answered instead, after a moment's pause. "Not a good look on me."

"It isn't," she agreed. "I'm glad I could help, then." Her gaze dropped and she found herself looking at his tie for a moment before she looked back up and added, "I'm here to help, you know. Whether you want to talk about or be distracted or ... You know where to find me."

He ran his thumb up and down along her spine.

"I know. And you do. Always like hanging out with you." His tone perked up as he added brightly; "Also you smell nice," and turned his head slightly, brushing his nose into her hair.

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