9508/The Hell of the Ball

The Hell of the Ball
Date of Scene:	09 October 2019
Location:	Metropolis Fashion Show
Synopsis:	The Metropolis Fashion Show's wednesday evening catwalk is crashed by Cheetah... and she seems to find a little interest in Ivory as he is a little slow to flee the scene.
Cast of Characters:	Ivory, Cheetah

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Ivory has posed:
    The Metropolice Fashion Show isn't as big as other fashion shows but it rivals the Fashion Week of the same town. But it is a welcome chane for designers to display their creations. It's a chance to show off, to be seen. Tonight, wednesday, saw already many small shows, but the evening sees a large show. A show that has invited almost anyone that is worth something in the fashion industry. Even Ivory, a tiny designer from New York had managed to secure one, while Cat's Eye Cosmetics had gotten enough to send a full team, should they want.

    The event is housed in a recreation of a french palais, a huge hall making the center of the event. The skylight has been covered with black fabric to create the right lighting conditions inside, basking the traverses carrying the spots for the runway into darkness. The halls were occupied with many many people, a large bar in a room adjacent to the runway, and a red carpet leads in from the streets, photographers shooting like there was no tomorrow.

    Ivory comes with an Uber, having paid a little extra for a Mercedes, and as they leave the car, they are dressed in a white suit with cat eyes embrodied to the back. No scarf like usual but just the pale leather neckband adorn the neck, and with the general style, today they have opted to go as a guy to this event.

Cheetah has posed:
     Cat's Eye Cosmetics did, in fact, send a full team of representatives to the MFS as they do every year. Team: Cat's Eye has suffused the hall with its various members taking up tactical positions hither and tither. All are hobnobbing as though it were a strategic imperative.

     Unlike in past years, there is one notable absence: Barbara-Ann Minerva is nowhere to be found. By putting one's ear to the party 'grapevine' one might easily learn that Ms. Minerva had to cancel at the last minute. Apparently, she has fallen ill.

Ivory has posed:
    Not really knowing about the absence of Miss Minerva, Ivory slowly walzed past the entry hall, where the designer had stationed someone to greet the people and check them on the list. Soon he was in the crowd under the traverses, watching the models come by in the designs for next spring. Haute coture, nothing he was especially deep in, but it was the networking he was there for anyway. Here and there he exchanges a card with someone and talks about the prospect joint venture with Oracle Inc.

Cheetah has posed:
    
The skylight, which is positioned more or less at the center of the high, grand ceiling and almost directly above the catwalk, has been darkened for the occasion. Earlier in the day, a team of workmen simply went outside to the roof and secured a black tarp -- not the most fashionable of accessories -- to the exterior side of the skylight. There is therefore no possibility that the tarp could plummet to the floor at an inopportune moment and no one inside the hall can tamper with it. At worst, it was thought, the tarp might come lose on the roof and allow those inside to see a beautiful, starry sky. Clearly the MFS' promoters are not the sort to think too far outside the box.

     A dark figure slinks her way across the roof toward the covered skylight. When she reaches it the stillness of the roof is broken by the muted sound of a smallish sized piece of the tarp being 'cut' away. The resulting gap is small enough to go unnoticed by the patrons within the hall but large enough to make for an accommodating porthole for the mysterious figure to see inside.

Ivory has posed:
    Below the crowds watch and the photographers create a lightning storm. There's occasional applouse, other people leave to the bar to get a drink and discuss buisiness. Ivory ends up leaning against one of the pillars carrying the roof, leaning back to watch up to the lighting installation on the trusses. Just an idle pause for the moment. The lights shine much more than skylight beyond.

Cheetah has posed:
Cheetah's lips peeled away from her white fangs and a low, guttural growl rumbled up from the depths of her chest. This was utterly unacceptable! Cheetah -- who was secretly Cat's Eye Cosmetics' founder, Barbara-Ann Minerva -- should be inside with those tasteless cretins and not skulking around on a roof freezing her (literal) tail off!

    Barbara-Ann had received her invitation weeks ago. In truth, she loathed the MFS and its 'small time' reputation. She hated going and, every year, found an excuse to leave early once she had suitably enriched the lives of the peasants who populated the event. This year she had foresworn even attending. That is, until her "medicine" failed to materialize on time due to a delay in sourcing the near-mystical ingredients. Without the potion, Minerva had no way of reverting to her human form. Now that she couldn't attend the show, attending the show became the sole focus of her being and the manifest injustice of her predicament rankled more than those positively dreadful traverses on display in the hall below. Ugh. Who designed those things: Ray Charles? Cheetah made a mental note to discover the name of the set designer and have him, her, or it banished from Metropolis. Her pettiness was apparently unaffected by the transition from human to cat.

Ivory has posed:
    Whoever was the set designer, he had a liking for his trusses and hanging the lights from the traverses. They were just a tad overbearing, probably.

Ivory sighed as he returned to the fray, smalltalking, handing out some more cards to others and then moving to grab a little drink. He wasn't a big name, it was pretty much a first time he was there and probably most of his cards would end in the paper bin before the end of the night. But he had to try to blossom his little studio. And clearly, he (and the people around) had no idea that Minerva, the queen on Cat's Eye Cosmetics, was spying on the MFS from above...

Cheetah has posed:
Cheetah's claws began to slowly tear narrow ruts in the black tarp covering the skylight as she pressed her muzzle closer to the previously exposed glass. Far below she saw the glitterati happily socializing, drinking, and admiring the designs on display as models traipsed down the catwalk. It was almost as if they didn't even notice Minerva's absence!! And those models! Was there a leper colony on the outskirts of Metropolis?? That one was far too short, the other far too tall, and that one must be packing for a trip by the look of those bags under her eyes. Cheetah's body tensed as her passions were fueled by ever greater indignation. She should be down there. It wasn't fair. It wasn't FAIR! She didn't ask for this. She didn't DESERVE this!

Without thinking, and without really meaning to, a split-second impulse propelled Cheetah's spring-taut body into action. Razor-sharp claws easily tore through the skylight and her snarling form came barreling through the resulting rain of glass shards as she (and the glass) fell through the air and down toward the catwalk below. Chaos broke out almost instantly.

Ivory has posed:
    Suddenly, the Skylight started to come apart, glass raining down in tiny shards. They had used glass that would fracture as much as possible in case of a glass breaking, so the pieces wouldn't come down like blades. But a rain of small glass pieces from 4 floors height wasn't nice either. The shards danced over the lights, sparks intermixing into the rain as the broken glass destroys lights directly in the way down, dispersing and making the people scream. They start to flee to the bar and backstage area...

    And in the chaos, Ivory is thrown down by some fleeing people. He ends on the ground, confused, shielding his face against he raining glass with both hands and arms.

Cheetah has posed:
Cheetah landed easily on her feet despite the considerable distance between skylight and catwalk. A hail of sparkling glass shards followed swiftly behind. MFS patrons abandoned their seats and leapt up to make for the nearest exit. The air was electric with screams, yells, spilled alcohol, and more than a few camera-flashes. One particularly brazen paparazzo from the Daily Bugle -- who gave such a disreputable rag a press pass? -- managed to snap a striking image of Cheetah, lit from below by the catwalk, shaking her crimson tresses in a mad attempt to shake free the glass shards that now peppered her mane like diamonds.

The bulbs, the booze, the noise; it all played havoc with Minerva's hyper-active senses. She clutched her head and slashed at the air around her like a lunatic in equal turns. Her sudden arrival at the ball was apparently just as shocking to her as it was to the attendees. Howling like a banshee, Minerva's gaze raked over the multitudes seeking a locus for her anger (and, truth be told, her embarrassment). It was nothing but a mass of bodies rushing to safety. Then, between the running legs and contrasting sharply against the blackened floor, Cheetah found embroidered cats' eyes staring back at her. Mocking her. Ivory's prone form came into view.

Cheetah shrieked like her namesake and leapt from the catwalk in a high arc that was well and truly above the heads of the fleeing masses. If Ivory had ever paid attention in Physics class, he could very easily infer that Cheetah's eventual downward trajectory would bring the two very close and very personal. Hopefully Cheetah ate a mint before coming to spy on the MFS tonight...    

Ivory has posed:
Ivory was still struggling to try to get to his fee, covered in shards of glass, the white suit having sustained some damage from the pieces cutting it. But no moment after he got to those feet, Cheetah impacted pretty much next to him, forcing him to stumble backwards. A couple bloody streaks from the glass marred his face, he shuddered, trying to retreat slowly.

Cheetah has posed:
    Pulled to the floor by the lustful hands of gravity and abetted by the panicked mob that helpfully parted like the Red Sea for Moses to give her room to land gracefully, Cheetah came hurtling down with nary a thud. Still on all fours she pivoted smoothly on the floor to snarl at Ivory. The short hairs on the back of her neck bristled and the green glow of her predator's eyes was practically radioactive. Her 'hind' legs began to gather themselves beneath her, mustering for one final strike. For a brief instant, the savage contortions of her feline face gave way to a self-satisfied smirk. You've got no where to go, she seemed to say. The thought that Ivory might have a trick or two of his own never crossed her mind.    

Ivory has posed:
Ivory is startled as the feline woman snarls at him, slowly rising the hands as they try to retreat more, one step at a time, the hack of the heels seeking if there is a free spot to thread on. It's a defensive move, but it also brought his arms in a good position to possibly try to deflect or lessen a blow. Not a formalized combat position. "C..careful..."

Cheetah has posed:
Cheetah blinked. As Ivory backed away ever so tenderly, the pale leather neckband about his neck slid into view. The mere sight of it caused Cheetah's nose to tingle and arrested her attention immediately. In a display of primitive dumbfounded-ness that would later appall her, the former model sniffed the air and pawed the ground, unable to tear her eyes from the neckband. Suddenly distracted from her earlier plan to rend Ivory limb from limb, Cheetah's mind instead set about trying to process the alien messages her inhuman body was trying to send. Not a bad window of escape there, perhaps.

Ivory has posed:
Ivory sped up the steps backwards, managing to get about two or three meters between the two before he spun around, starting to dash for an exit. The large green eyes embrodied onto the ripped up suit stared back at Cheetah, feline eyes, unblinking, haughty. Well, as much as embrodied eyes could do so. Were those Ivory's or Cheetah's?

Maybe Cheetah might recognize the collar, or the vibe of Ivory's magic - He however remembered the sound of that hiss, the rough figure from the shadow...

Cheetah has posed:
As the neckband turned away to be replaced by those torn, mocking eyes, Cheetah's face contracted in a sudden twitch and she shook her head violently. The 'spell' was broken. Angry and mortified, she instantly returned to her earlier (crazy) train of thought. Gathering herself into a hateful ball of bristling potential energy, she leapt toward Ivory. "Come back here!" Her words are more snarl and spittle than speech, so incensed is Cheetah at this entire affair. Does she want the neckband? Just the neck? Maybe to trade business cards? There's really only one sure-fire way to find out.

Ivory has posed:
    The young man turns the head at the screamed snarl, his own green eyes looking back to hers. Looking back in a run isn't too smart though, as you can't see where you are running to, what you have to evade in running. And as a result he falls over the leg of fallen chair, starting to sail through the air before ending on the ground again and sliding onto the polished marble floor.

Cheetah has posed:
Cheetah landed on the marble floor where Ivory would have been -- where he SHOULD have been had he not been such a klutz -- with some authority. The force of her body as it impacted the floor sounded heavier than the 120 lbs. that Cheetah will publicly admit to; however, now was probably not the best time to tell her so. Her claws did a number on the polished surface as she gained purchase and halted her momentum.

Still on all fours, Cheetah began methodically stalking toward Ivory who was sprawled on the floor a short distance away. Almost snake-like, she slinked over the fallen chair that Ivory tripped over and continued her sinister course. "What beautiful eyes you have, my dear." Her nostrils flared taking in the delightful scent of the wet blood on Ivory's face. She purred in expectation. "Let's have a better look at you..."

Ivory has posed:
Ivory seemed to be lucky today, stumbling right at the right time not to get turned into catfood, but he scrambled to try to get back to the feet, hands quickly lifting as he couldn't find purchase on the slick marble. "M...my eyes?" he muttered as he tried to work backwards while Cheetah loomed over him, just some scratches in the face. They were not too deep, but they mixed blood into his smell. And below? Magic blood.

Cheetah has posed:
Despite his efforts to backpedal, Cheetah arrived to within striking distance of Ivory's squishy bits in short order. Turns out she /did/ eat a mint before arriving at the MFS hall. Things were looking up. Without warning Cheetah drew back a hand, threw open her hellish fingers, and cut through the air with blinding speed toward Ivory's throat. Was it the end for Ivory? Goodbye, cruel world? How would they ever get the blood stains out of that charming, white ensemble?

Cheetah's claws halted to within an eyelash of Ivory's jugular. Delicately, she slipped the pointed tip of her index finger between the bottom edge of the leather neckband and the skin of Ivory's neck. She gently traced a length of the band. "Where did you get this?" Cheetah's eyes rose from a close inspection of the neckband to Ivory's face. The claw that had been following the line of the band was withdrawn and 'tickled' the tip of Ivory's nose with no particular merriment.

Ivory has posed:
Ivory breathed in harshly as the sharp claw traced his neck, forcing him to stop any movement but the breath. "Had it ever since I was born?" He tried to explain, to calm the cheetah-woman down. He exhaled with almost gratitude as the finger retreated, only to stun him as the finger poked at his nose. "W...What do you want?"

Cheetah has posed:
Outside the hall the sound of sirens reached Cheetah's attentive ears. In all of tonight's chaos she had failed to notice them earlier and now they were practically at the front door. So was an approaching helicopter. Metropolis' Finest were on their way in full force. That no-good alien in the red cape was probably on his way, too. What she lacked in valor, which was quite a bit, she more than made up for in discretion and a strong sense of self-preservation. Cheetah tapped the end of Ivory's nose a second time, "What do I want? I've something in mind. We'll discuss it the next time we meet."

Cheetah coiled herself and bounded away from Ivory and back to the ruined catwalk. There, with a graceful fluidity, she leapt straight up and out the smashed skylight. Sprinting away from the scene at breathtaking speed Minerva recalled in her mind's eye the image of the pale leather neckband. There was something about it that pricked at her mind. Sure, she could have just taken the thing then and there, but where's the fun in that? She smiled callously to herself. It shouldn't be that hard to obtain a guestlist from the organizers. The thought of hunting Ivory down after the fact held a certain thrill. Being a 'super-villain' was proving to be easier (and more fun) than she expected.

Ivory has posed:
Ivory swallowd hard as Cheetah tormented his nose again before teasing him about... something? What was she talking about? Why didn't she end him?! He was all confused... and the next moment she was darting away, fleeing the scene. As he scrambled to his feet, the blue boys were swarming onto the gate.

Minutes later, they started to question the attendants, started to search the area. The helicopter above cast a harsh light upon the building... but probably too late.