Dinner party

[mirrormirrormeme]

Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody.
- Samuel Pepys

Fancy Dinner Party Meme

WHAT TO DO:

1. Post with your character--name, fandom and any particular preferences go in the subject line as usual.

2. You can either roll or pick a scenario (or scenarios!) from the list or leave your comment blank. If you want to be really fancy, link to what extravagant formal outfit your character’s wearing to this occasion.

3. Reply to people!

4. Have fun and be mindful of your partner's preferences.


OPTIONS:

1. Hosting: This is your dinner party, and you’re panicking, trying to make sure absolutely everything is going smoothly. Time to conscript one of your guests to help out!

2. Sitting with a Stranger: You’ve been seated beside someone you’ve never met, but this meal’s going to be incredibly awkward if you just don’t say anything to them the whole time. Make introductions--why are each of you here at the party?

3. Bad Manners: One or both of you really doesn’t belong in this posh setting. You’re making a mockery of the refined setting with your table manners, your clothing and your overall demeanor.

4. What Is That?: There’s a food in front of you on the platter--at least, you’re pretty sure it’s food and not a centerpiece. Beyond that, you have no clue exactly what it is. Do you dare to try it?

4.5 No, Really, WHAT Is That?!: You’re at the sort of amazing dinner party that Hannibal Lecter throws--the wine’s just a little too red, the meat’s nice and fatty, and you’ve just realized that this salad dressing might be made with Soylent Green.

5. Dancing: You’re not just at a banquet, you’re at a ball. It’s time to convince the partner of your choice to take a spin on the dance floor. Do you even know how to waltz, bro?

6. Intrigue: One or both of you are undercover, secretly armed to the teeth under your formal attire. How do you keep this a secret? How does the other person find out? (This option is also totally great for superheroes attending the party in their mundane identity!)

7. Poison: Midway through one of the courses, someone on the other end of the table turns purple and passes out (or possibly even passes away!) at the table. It looks like they’ve been poisoned, and you have a mystery on your hands. What do?

8. Dessert: After a delicious meal, there’s something truly decadent being put on the table. Does this make up for the tiny portions of the previous courses? Do you tease your partner with the chocolate-covered strawberries, or share a spoonful of tiramisu?

9. Wildcard!: I know I forgot something, probably several somethings, so here's your wildcard for whatever else you can fit into this meme.

Comments

Yoshitaka Mine 💴 RGG/Yakuza

[spendings]

Dorian Pearl, a poet || OC {The Yellow King RPG} || OTA

[allfloatdownhere]

{{1890s Paris/London/NYC || 1, 4.5, 5, 6, 7, 9, Wild card. Open to scandal (Dorian is a hyper-Bohemian, a Decadent black sheep from a rich, upstanding family) and horror themes (he is slowly being driven mad and is haunted by the constant presence of his dead twin).}}

Mobius M. Mobius | ʟօӄɨ | OTA

[themstandsformobius]

[Welcome to Mobius' personal hell.]

I'm more of a pizza and beer kinda guy, gotta be honest

Sonya Blade| Mortal Kombat | OTA

[soldier_blade]

[Also have a 'Lieutenant Blade' account if preferred.
Could either be a military formal or a diplomatic dinner between Earth and some other realm.]

Felix del Bosque | Amber Diceless TTRPG

[hellride]

[ M/M for shipping but OTA for Gen which I am happy for! He wouldn't be caught dead hosting himself, but he's from a royal family and sometimes you can't get out of Obligations... Also has a habit of crashing parties when the mood strikes him. ]

Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto | XMCU | ota

[frankensteinian]

[He's as confused as everyone else as to why he's here.]

Steve Harrington | Stranger Things

[farrahfawcetts]

[M/M for shipping but OTA for anything else. And listen, AWKWARD HARRINGTON DINNER WITH PARENTS. Yes!]

Garma Zabi | Mobile Suit Gundam | OTA

[zabiprince]

[He's technically a prince, so he'd probably be at a really fancy dinner party or a ball.]

selina kyle, dc comics

[catlady]

the ninth doctor | doctor who

[sonicked]

[ definitely still wearing his usual fit. ]

[hooked_on_kaballin]

[These two both undercover at some sort of diplomatic thing? He's a real fish out of water but can fake it till he makes it!]

[coldsong]

[Can I interest you in a Dinner of State in Asgard? Either Loki and Mobius having traveled there undercover for some weird reason, or Mobius there by his lonesome running into a young Loki that hasn't met him before?]

[themstandsformobius]

(you most certainly can! throw whatever flavor of loki you're in the mood for my way and i'll work around you :D)

thomas shelby | peaky blinders

[tunnelled]

( ota. could be a business lunch. could be a date night. could be a loud, chaotic, stress-inducing, occasionally heartwarming family dinner. in any case, he won't be seen eating anything. )

integra hellsing / hellsing

[sirintegra]

(business, charity function, or even a date.)

[sirintegra]

(I'm up for another thread with these two if you're interested.)

Meioh Setsuna/Sailor Pluto | Sailormoon

[puruuto]

| Senshi. Dates. Crystal Tokyo political and formal dinners. |

(I shall go with a young Loki, then!)

[coldsong]

[Whether he meant to be overheard or not, Mobius' quiet comment goes from his lips to god's ears. Specifically, the ears of the god of mischief. Loki's look at this time of his life is weirdly shiny and new: his armor is highly polished gold, there's not so much as a line on his forehead, despite him having over a thousand years on him, and his eyes are wide in a narrow face. It's a face that makes it understandable how people once looked at him and assumed the mischief that followed in his wake was genuinely unintentional.

Mobius knows better, of course. And he may catch a fleeting smirk on the godling's lips before he leans away from the table, gestures to a servant, and calls for ale.]

I would not have our guest leave the table unsatisfied. [He says, turning the full force of his charming smile on Mobius now.] Though I don't think we can accommodate pizza. Even Idunn can't get proper tomatoes to ripen here.

[stillumgadi]

[Something diplomatic could work well between Earthrealm and Outrealm.]

Maria Hill | MCU

[standardprocedure]

[Option 1: Possibly there by Stark's request insistence. Option 2: Some swanky Washington DC political thing. Option 3: She's there undercover.]

[themstandsformobius]

[Despite what the name suggests, the briefing he'd had before being strategically dropped into the Timeline hadn't been all that brief and, honestly, Mobius struggled pay attention to most of it. There was something about everybody needing to fill and sign form A19-B-dash-4 before signing equipment out of the armory, and that means you, Mobius, but even the mention of his name didn't elicit much of a response from him beyond a cursory wave to indicate that he'd heard.]

[And that's roughly about the same time Ravonna had marched across the room to strangle him with his tie.]

[Turns out, one she had his undivided attention, the instructions were pretty damn clear. Get in, get the info, get out.]

[This is strictly a recon mission, an opportunity to observe the Timeline from a first-person perspective and with a fresh pair of eyes for once. The name of this game is to keep a low profile, to avoid contaminating this branch of the Timeline so much that it rockets towards the redline faster than Mobius can set the chargers and, most importantly of all, stay the heck out of trouble.]

[So much for that pipe dream. Mobius' hopes of being an unobtrusive observer, the space and time-faring equivalent of a naturalist discovering the Galapagos for the first time, are dashed as soon as his little aside draws the unwanted attention of a certain mischief maker.]

[Because of course it does.]

Oh, no, that's really not - [Necessary. But then there's an Asgardian servant weaving around the banquet table towards them, bearing a flagon of something drippy and foaming, and Mobius just nods as his glass is topped up.] Don't get me wrong, that wasn't a complaint. This is just a little more extravagant than I'm used to.

[He risks a single, solitary sip, for no other reason than to avoid causing a diplomatic incident. After all, Odin's sitting right over there. Mobius makes a point of leaning further back in his chair to avoid the god's eye, turning to Loki for refuge.] Are all your parties like this?

[He already knows the answer but he wants to gauge Loki's response, get a sense of how dissimilar he might be to the others he's met.]

[tunnelled]

(i surely am. how about a loosely political/charity dinner where some of the guests are more than they seem? by which i mean supernaturally evil instead of regular human evil.)

[sirintegra]

(excellent!)

(the unfortunate aspect of both nobility and integra's position is the necessity of making appearances at certain events. she would much rather spend the evening finishing up paperwork and getting everything in order for the following day. instead she is in a glittering dining room hosting a long formal table covered in white linen, a string band to the south end of the room. the interminable obligation to engage in small talk looms like an encroaching storm cloud. it is a necessary inconvenience at best.

integra has donned a gown, a deep emerald silk with a high neckline and plunging back, lantern sleeves and delicate black beading along the bodice, for the occasion. it serves only to make her feel even more out of her element. in her clutch: a tube of lipstick scarcely used, her cigar case and lighter, and her walther pistol.

she arrives alone and quietly finds her seat, the calligraphied "sir integra hellsing" easily spotted. there would be dinner and music followed by a private auction towards which the hellsing organization has generously donated some rare artifacts. for now she sits, basking in the momentary calm and lighting her first cigar of the night.)

[tunnelled]

[Tommy Shelby's there reaching across her, from standing, to pick up her place card from the table. He holds it at the precise distance required to bring it into focus without his reading glasses. He doesn't need them for shooting at range, but written words close up are another matter. His numerous detractors might be right about him after all: uneducated, barely literate.]

Sir.

[He reads for her to hear, emphasising what he's only just learned. His tone a subtle indicator that he wouldn't have minded if she did correct him when they first met.]

I had that wrong.

[He's dressed the same as every other bastard at this dinner, and it feels like exchanging one uniform for another.

There are sides to her, too, that the gentry mustn't like. There's no denying her nobility, but he thinks she's of some foreign extraction as well. A mother or a grandmother, if he had to guess. It might just be projection, considering how much of the trouble with him is from his mother's side. And Integra is a woman doing men's work better than a man could. That alone, by her own admission, would rub some people the wrong way.

He restores her place card to the table and picks up the card from the table setting beside hers. It isn't his, so he hands it off to the nearest footman. He sits down beside her, uninvited and unapologetic about taking someone else's place. As a further damning sign that he intends to stay, he deposits his own cigarette case in front of him.]

How is it — knighthood?

[It sounds as though he's asking where she goes on holiday, because he's in need of a recommendation. As though he might be awarded higher than an OBE if he simply applied himself to the task. If that seems arrogant, he'd invite anyone to consider where he already is relative to where he's meant to be.

The truth is, he hates small talk. He hates greetings and reacquainting himself with anyone. He can't stand distant politeness between people who haven't seen each other in a while. He'd sooner say something disruptive and start a real conversation. It's all very rude, everything he's just said and done, but he reasons better that than they both die of boredom.]

[sirintegra]

Some call me Lady Hellsing, as well, (she's tilting her chin upwards to regard thomas shelby with a bemused smile. his voice, steady and low with that particular cadence is unmistakable. the tuxedo looks nice on him but if asked her opinion, she'd liked the personality of the suit he'd been wearing at their first meeting more. integra watches as he neatly sets her place card back upon the table before plucking the one beside her between deft, calloused fingers and taking a seat regardless of the name upon it. she’s pleased he's done it, no matter how rude it is to usurp some other well-to-do and rob him of the opportunity to bore her to death.)

It comes with expectations that I aim to exceed. (she takes a slow drag, adjusting her posture to better regard him.) Otherwise, I admit there is a specific satisfaction in being addressed as a Knight.

(men made to acknowledge some degree of her equality---not dame, as is convention, but sir. she exhales a plume of smoke, mildly observing the other guests milling about before dinner is served, then returning her attention fully to mister shelby.)

I expect you loathe these parties as much as I do.