2017.02.27 - Mardi Gras Ball 2017
Donovon Sanders enters, dressed unlike he has before. The young college student has foregone his usual farm look nor does he wear the costume he dons when fighting crime. Tonight, he's wearing a blue and black tuxedo. While he looks only slightly uncomfortable, he manages to pull it off well, the color accentuating his ginger locks.
The lively strains of classic Dixieland Jazz can be heard as a soft undercurrent throughout the spacious room. It's not loud enough to interfere with conversation but makes for a lovely bit of Mardi Gras atmosphere. The great hall of Wayne Manor is appropriately decorated for the holiday which isn't traditionally celebrated so far north. Green, purple and gold seem to be the primary colors.
As always, Alfred is on hand to show guests into the room and, in this instance, drape a string of Mardi Gras beads around their necks. The who's who of Gotham City are in attendance. Various dignitaries socialize at the edges of the room while some people dance in the center of the floor beneath the exquisite chandelier which casts a soft, golden light over everyone and everything.
At the moment, Bruce Wayne is standing beside the buffet table with a glass of champagne held almost negligently in his left hand. He nods and smiles at folks who circulate near him, but doesn't seem to be particularly engaged with anyone.
Donovon, always one to be polite, notices the host and the one who invited him, near the table of food. He makes his way over, again walking purposefully, but also glancing right and left to make sure he's not going to intrude on a conversation or embarrass himself. When he arrives beside the older man, he waits until Bruce looks his way before extending a hand, "Mr. Wayne. Thank you for the invitation. I hope I am not too late and dressed appropriately?"
This time, Zachary Zatara isn't dressed in a tux. Given the occasion, it was appropriate in his mind; and this time, he has several strands of beads in purple, gold, and green around his neck. It's all so festive! With a sort of half-smile on his face, he makes his way over towards Bruce. "So we meet again! Laissez les bon temps roulez! Or is it 'bon ton' in N'awlans. I forget." He chuckles, glancing around himself to see the rest surrounding. He's sure he's seen Donovon before.
Jack Drake and his wife are in attendance, and so is Tim, though he breaks off very swiftly from his father and step-mother who are fully engaged in the usual see-and-be-seen routine of the Gotham elite. He lingers around the edge of the crowd for a time before, and this is with some reluctance, he approaches the buffet. As Mr. Wayne is indisposed greeting other guests, he just makes brief eye contact with Bruce before he finds himself with a champagne glass in his hand.
Naturally, it's just sparkling cider. Not under Alfred's watch.
Bruce gives Donovon a winning smile and readily shakes hands with the younger man. "Hello! Sharp tux," he compliments Donovon. Though it could be said he looks equally well in his subtle purple and black tuxedo. "You're a friend of Dick, right?" he asks, giving Donovon a curious look.
Then Zachary is there and Bruce turns that brilliant smile on the magician. "Hello, Mr. Zatara," Bruce greets, "Glad you could make it."
Catching Timothy's glance, Gotham's First Son smiles at the youth before looking back to Donovon and Zachary who are in his immediate presence.
Donovon has a firm, polite handshake, meeting Bruce's eyes steadily but out of politeness and not challenge, "Yes sir. He and I met at school. He was showing me around campus since I was new." There's an easy smile about his face as he nods to Zachary.
"Good evening to you as well," he offers, extending a hand to the other man, "Nice to see you again."
Zach smiles a little wider and gives a little squeeze to Donovon's hand before looking back to Bruce. "Glad to be here. You always throw the best parties." It's not just lip service; he really does mean it. There are few get-togethers as delightful as a Wayne Manor soiree. "Isn't Dick here? I thought he wouldn't miss this for the world."
There are subtler ways to eavesdrop, ways that Tim's pretty intimately familiar with at this point, but it's best that he outwardly projects very little competency. So he stands awkwardly near the buffet table, looking altogether the picture of some kid that got dragged to a fancy soiree when he'd rather be at home (or wearing tights on a rooftop, naturally). But he does glance over at mention of Dick. Yes, where *is* Bruce Wayne's ward? Tim narrows his eyes and sips his cider. Which, oh wow that's sweet. He makes a face.
“Dick is thinking about attending Gotham University," Bruce mentions to Donovon. "He's toured the campus at least twice and has gone back a few other times to speak with some of the professors and administrators. And he decided to skip tonight. I think he's out on a date. Rose? Daisy? Some floral name..." Bruce trails off with a smile and a helpless shrug. Dick might be Bruce's ward, but Dick is also an active teen with his own social circle that Bruce tries not to overshadow.
Noticing Timothy's odd expression, Bruce asks on a note of concern, "Is the sparkling cider not to your taste? I'm sure we've got something else around here you might like."
Donovon turns as Timothy moves up towards the group. The ginger teen smiles and extends a hand, "Howdy again." Letting a bit of his usual speech come out, he corrects, "How are you enjoying the party?"
A little conspiratorially, he leans in, "I hope I do not look as uncomfortable as I feel in this. Does it look okay?" Perhaps he trusts Tim to tell him the truth when someone else might be too polite.
Zatara raises an eyebrow at that. Floral names, really? He doesn't really buy that, but now is not the time or place, he figures. Not that it would particularly stop him at any other time, but he likes Bruce well enough and he doesn't want to ruin the party. "I hope he has a nice time," Zach offers, glancing over to Tim when Bruce does.
There's some amusement on the young magician's face at Donovon's question. That's why he didn't come in a tux, of course, for an occasion like this. "Tailoring tends to help with that," he remarks, moving to take a flute of champagne from the table.
And he's officially been drawn into the conversation. Was this what Tim wanted? Possibly! "Oh, no, uh, I'm fine." He pointedly takes a sip of his cider (ergh) and smiles at Bruce after, face perfectly placid. Because normal teenagers definitely aren't on special diets that restrict their sugar intake! He narrows his eyes briefly at Donovan, then returns the handshake. "Oh, um, it's great," he answers, and then blinks, turning his head to scrutinize Donovan. "Yes?" His mouth thins into an uncertain line.
"You should try the King cake," Bruce suggests to the small knot of teenagers gathered around him. "If you get the baby, we'll crown you the King of Misrule," he adds with a mischievous grin.
There's no telling where the aforementioned King cake came from since it's more of a regional speciality of the Gulf coast, but Bruce Wayne has a magnificent one (that he surely ordered custom) sitting as the centerpiece of the buffet. A liveried waiter stands near the King cake to cut and serve guests who might want a piece of the sugary treat. Red beans and rice made with real Conecuh County sausage, jambalaya and seafood gumbo are also available.
"A cake with a prize? Now that is new to me." He glances at the large cake that is just beginning to be cut. "I will have to try a piece of that, though I am not sure I want to bite into a baby." His eyes survey the other food, and he realizes he hasn't really eaten much today.
"Mr. Wayne, thank you again. This is great! I am going to get something to eat." He nods,to the others as he excuses himself. He is quick to make up a plate of some of the food offerings, including the rice and beans.
"Oh, I love king cake!" It's one of Zach's favorite practices of the holiday. He immediately glides over with graceful steps to the cake, motioning to it before taking the piece he's offered. He'll be careful in eating it, of course; there are little things in most of the pieces, he can assume. He doesn't partake of any of the rest, and Bruce will likely know it's because he practices the same restricted diet as his cousin: vegetarian and a little picky.
"There are various little things inside. Chew carefully," Zach informs Donovon, who clearly has not enjoyed this tradition before. "They all have some meaning."
Apparently they're eating cake. Tim is the last to separate from Bruce for the aforementioned dessert, so he affords his mentor with a beleaguered look but follows after Donovan and Zachary, because he's been doing this since he was little, and the very least he can do is pretend to enjoy himself. Not that Tim is a very exuberant kind of guy even when he's not putting on an act. "Just a small piece," he tells the waiter cutting the cake. "Smaller. No, smaller, please. Thank you." Immediately he starts poking at the little square of cake with his fork to make sure there aren't any babies hiding in it.
"Enjoy," Bruce says in parting to Donovon. The food is definitely top notch. Bruce hired a chef from New Orleans just for the occasion. Like any Wayne party, there is no expense to be spared.
Hearing Zachary's warning, Bruce chuckles. "Just the baby," he informs the magician. "It's porcelain and got baked in."
Bruce trails along after the teens to trade his glass of champagne for a plate with a slice of King cake. He moves off a few steps so as not to impede the flow of traffic at the buffet and samples the treat. Apparently it must be to his liking because he attacks it with his fork again to get another bite sized piece to eat.
It is true the farm boy turned college student had never heard of these traditions. "I cannot even imagine who first though to put a toy in a cake, but I will be careful." Donovon eats the red beans and rice and samples small bites of the other meals. Growing up a farm, one was careful not to turn away any new food experiences, and he's kept that up.
When he's finished with the savory, he gets himself a piece of cake and inspects it visually. "How big is this baby I need to avoid?" he asks of Zachary. Glancing at Tim, he smiles, "That is one way to avoid getting the baby I think, eating small pieces."
"You can't have a smaller piece, it's unfair to everyone. Everyone has to have the same size piece for the game to work." Zach comments to Tim, only a little smugly. But warmly enough. He takes another little bite of his own, since this is the only real food he sees that he can eat here at the moment. Champagne and cake, dinner of the gods.
"Oh, just the baby? Well that's a shame." It's not too disappointing to him, but it's not the *full* game, and that seems like another little bit of upper-crust dalliance that misses the point. But he'll work his way through his piece, so as not to throw off the amusement himself, shrugging to Donovon. Now he doesn't know, since it's not like the cakes he's had.
Tim cuts a corner of his slice of cake with the side of his fork. The look on his face is... dubious at best, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Probably big enough that you won't accidentally choke on it?" He's got the cake speared on the end of his fork but it's hanging somewhere in-between his plate and his mouth, like he's working up the courage to actually eat it. "I'm not ready for the commitment," he tells Zachary, expression serious, just before he takes a bite of cake. And after the initial moment of 'holy crap this is what sugar tastes like,' it's actually good cake. Possibly great, because no expense spared, etc. He flashes Bruce a thumbs up and takes another bite.
The King cake is pretty spot on for Gulf coast Mardi Gras traditions (remember that chef from New Orleans?) and is only flavored with nutmeg and cinnamon without any other fancy fillings. It is definitely overwhelmingly sweet, though, with the sugary icing on top and then that covered with purple, green and yellow decorative sugar. Bruce isn't normally one to indulge in sweets, but he's making an exception in the holiday spirit.
Casting a curious look at Zachary, Bruce asks, "What other trinkets? The one time I did Mardi Gras in the South, it was just the baby to be found. And would you like a salad or something?"
Donovon carefully pokes his cake with a fork, trying to see if there is anything in it he shouldn't eat. When it's clear he is not the 'winner' with the baby, he takes a bite of cake. "Well, cake with baby still tastes like cake, so that is good." He chuckles softly as he finishes the first bite.
"Wouldn't having too many things in the cake affect its ...shape?"
The cake decides that Tim is *not* the father, and he soundly polishes off the very small square of it that he was served. Yes, very sweet, but it *is* nice to indulge from time to time. He passes his empty plate off to a waiter that passes by. "So, have you been in Gotham lo--" But then Jack Drake makes eye-contact with him from across the room, and motions down at his wheelchair. Tim's eyes widen and then he clears his throat. "Sorry, I have to go." He flashes a brief half-smile at Donovan, tilts his head at Bruce, and then makes his way across the great hall. "Hey, is the motor acting up again?"
Of course Rin is so late for the party.. even though he lives here in the mansion! He was still so late as he came down the stairs, "Oh no.. I am so sorry..." he says as he rushes in, "I kind of slept like a log as I was up all night.." he sees the others eating a cake, "Oh! Can I have some?" he ask.
Rinne then awws a bit as the people are dwindling down. There was so many he hasn't met...
"Not in yours?" Bruce asks Donovon. "Not in mine either," he says before finishing the last bite of King cake on his plate and handing off the dish and fork to a passing waiter.
"Good to see you, Rinne," Bruce greets his houseguest with a smile. "Don't forget to try some of the gumbo, too. It's amazing."
Donovon nods, "I tried it. I can agree that is was very good." He is finishing up his cake, somewhat glad he did not get a baby, but also disappointed that he didn't get to experience this strange tradition.
To Rinne, he offers, "The party is still going strong, and I did not get here that long ago."
Rinne says, "Good to see you as well Mr. Wayne," he says with a bow, "Thank you again for letting me stay here... Dick wanted me to stay as well.. " he says as he heads over towards the table with the king cake. He takes the knife, twirling it in his hands, then he slices him a piece of cake. He puts it on a plate, putting down the knife, grabbing the fork. He takes the fork, taking a bite of the cake, but when he does, he bites down on something hard, and it hurt his teeth a little bit. He forgot what king cake was... He spits the hard thing out right on his plate... and right there was a baby… he flushes slightly.
Rinne looks over towards Donovon, nodding, "Looks like it. " He says this before the cake incident.
The dumbfounded waiter just watches while Rinne does the man's job, looking askance at Bruce who simply shrugs with a good natured smile.
"Well congratulations, Rinne! You're the King of Misrule for a day," Bruce says, grinning at the youth. "You'll also be expected to host the next King cake party, but we won't hold you to that."
"Oh Bruce!" a woman exclaims as she weaves her drunken way toward the billionaire philanthropist. She's none too steady on her high heels and she almost falls headlong into the buffet table. Only Bruce's quick action catches her and gets her mostly upright if leaning heavily on him.
"Good evening," Bruce says to the woman with a gracious smile. "Have you met our new King of Misrule?" he asks, nodding toward Rinne.
The woman giggles and leans in to whisper something in Bruce's ear. He nods and raises a hand to summon Alfred who almost seems to materialize from thin air at his master's call.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you in Alfred's capable hands," Bruce says with a short bow of his head toward Donovon and Rinne. "Try not to get into too much trouble," he says in parting to Rinne as he leads the intoxicated woman away.
After congratulating Rinne on discovering the baby, and joking that he now has to name it, Donovon makes a few more passes by the table of food. Afterall, he is growing still! He hangs out with Rinne for a time as well, but then realizes the time. "I am afraid you may be closing down the place. This suit is starting to chafe," he jokes.
Rinne looks towards Donovon, blinking a few times, "Heh.. " He looks towards Bruce, "Haha you never know I may have my own place by then.." he says with a flush and then he nods to Alfred, "I'll help clean up.. " he says and then he glances around, "See ya.." he doesn't even know Donovon, "Names Rokudou Rinne by the way," he says with a smile at least getting his name.