#ca masquerade

♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

Steve did his best to concentrate on the movements of his feet when he felt Rose's hands slowly creep up his arms to wrap around his neck.

Was this part of the dance? He tried to glance around at the other couples,  but his eyes snapped back to Rose's when he felt her thumbs slide under the fabric of his collar and brush against his skin before retreating. He swallowed. "Uh," he said intelligently.

Steve felt his face redden a little under his mask as she smiled bemusedly in response. He felt it redden even more as she leaned closer to murmur to him, low enough that the other dancers wouldn't hear, "Your collar just needed fixing. Keep dancing, Steve."

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

"Connor!" was all the warning he got before a small, tipsy missile ran face first into his chest. Said missile bounced off and nearly fell backwards, only stopped by Connor’s supportive arm around his waist.

Steve looked up at him accusingly, mask askew. “Sir,” he declared, “You are zozzled.”

"Zozzled," Connor replied. It wasn’t phrased as a question, but something about the way he tilted his head and leaned closer seemed to imply to Steve that he wanted him to keep talking, so he did.

"Zozzled, ossified, splifficated, bent, blotto, drunk,” Steve punctuated his sentence with a firm poke to Connor’s chest. “You backflipped into the chandelier.”

"All of these things are true," the larger man conceded.

"Glad we agree," Steve said, seemingly placated, and gently patted the spot he’d poked moments before. He looked at where his hand lay, his slightly unfocused contemplative gaze trailing slowly upwards to Connor’s face. Then he gave him a broad, sunny smile and asked "You wanna dance again?"

Connor considered this for a moment, then bent down to press a warm kiss to the shorter man’s cheek. He leaned upright again, straightened the mask on Steve’s reddening face, and replied, “Yes. Lead on.”

“ You all have been tasked with keeping this ball in order. ” 

     Holding a bulletin in hand, the man revealed the names of those who had signed.

Byakuren

Captain America

Haytham

Juvia

Lewis

Link

Morceau

Palla

Selvaria

Yuichiro

"How the heck are you supposed to dance to a song like this?" Steve wondered aloud as a thumping bassline filled the air. It was...pretty catchy, actually, so maybe he could ask around about it. Steve spotted a woman wearing clothing just as foreign to him as the music was, and figured that it wouldn't hurt to start with her.

What?

Steve looked up.

And up. And up some more, to the ornate golden mask on the face of the woman towering over him.

He swallowed thickly and squared his shoulders.

Now there was a girl who was dressed for dancing. Light gown, sensible shoes- everything seemed kinda grey, though, but that was probably just a problem on Steve's end. The butterfly mask she wore was probably just orange, or yellow.