Star Trek: Starbase 777

The doors opened to reveal a long, elegant hallway, red ropes draped across golden poles on both sides of the red carpet that would lead ballgoers forward. Sheer, gilded curtains framed the walls, and small lights followed the red carpet all the way to the proper entrance of the ball, which was also framed by string lights.

Maggie walked into the red carpet area with a breath, she still felt awkward being out and about after all that had happened, but this was about reclaiming her joy! Tina didn’t control her ability to feel happy, so she was going to make herself happy or die trying (hopefully not!). Maggie came in a jazzy little number, with a nice white dress with gold sparkles as well as a jacket draped over her shoulders and a bowler hat. Yeah, she was going to be happy tonight.

It was an exciting way to celebrate this Earth holiday; most of the time, he had celebrated it on that planet with his then-wife, Sarah. He never celebrated it since, even while serving on the Runaway. But when the opportunity arose of a Winter Ball at the station, he was eager to join, replicating the finest suit he thought of to match the theme. Koyin proudly strutted down the red carpet. He proudly revealed his outfit for the occasion, as the silky mint green bow tie he had on glistened in the lights. He brought a drink along with him as well, eager to spark a conversation with anyone attending the ball.

Trying to keep her head held high, Suun carried herself with an air of maturity she usually reserved for Starfleet ceremonies. This was her first major event as ACOO, and she’d be damned if she didn’t make a good first impression. Her hair was up, although it had been quite the process to pin it that way, and she wore a deep blue velvet dress, her arms covered by translucently sheer gloves. As she strode down the carpet, she promised herself that she would properly enjoy this. No arguments, no stress, just the chance to meet and dance with the people around her and have a good meal.

Vida strutted into the ball with her head held high. The headstrong chef was quite excited for an event not only celebrating an Earth season, but themed after an era of Earth history. Given the occasion, she took to it with exceptional zeal. She positioned her wide-brimmed hat, accompanied by veils of fabric, topped with bundles of material shaped like flower blossoms that decorated it. Her dress was a similar texture, a pale green low-cut dress, with a cutout for a leg and a single strap running over the shoulder. She'd put in great pains to add extensions to her hair so it flowed over her left shoulder and further curl its natural rigid shape. Topped with eyeshadow and a pair of long gloves, she saw the getup as quite the success, and confidently strode into the party, ready to be quite the memorable guest. (edited)

Shears wandered onto the entrance carpet to the ball, with their antennae twitching and their arms characteristically raised as if they were getting ready to use their hands for something. They'd never been to an event that centered on everyone looking as attractive as possible, mainly because they'd never seen the point in looking anything beyond presentable. That being said, they had asked their friend, M'Rish to he their dance, assuming this loud, noisy event would be the exact thing the timid, antisocial nurse would fancy, so they might as well do their best to blend in. No issue, detectives adopted disguises all the time. The theme was that of Earth film connoisseurs, exacted between a frame of 10 years. Shears did some basic research that wouldn't take them longer than 13 minutes and found fashion typical of the era. Supposedly this was the period the Earth city 'Shanghai' adopted the art of film, so they whipped together an outfit that would be appropriate. She was dressed in a long sleeved qipao, make of black silk that almost stretched to her ankles. The dress was patterned with a design reminiscent of branches and leaves, in such a material that they lay dark until they shone a reflective gold when hit by light. Atop their head sat a matha patti in a golden metal, with pink crystals. They didn't know if it fit the era, but they assumed it would be permissible, if only because it made her look fashionable.

Having been held up by the fact that he had no clue how to properly button his suit without feeling ridiculous, M’Rish finally stumbled towards the carpet looking… surprisingly, less uncomfortable than he usually did. Maybe it was the warm colours, or the braided hair, but he seemed a bit more secure in his own skin here. He made his way down the path, having caught a glimpse of Shears before they’d gone off into the main room. He followed suit, making sure his outfit wasn’t wrinkled or otherwise skewed. His jacket was an orange tweed-like pattern, paired with typical brown slacks and a black bow tie. He’d managed to find little adornments for the corners of his shirt collar, which he thought were a nice touch.

Replicators were a modern miracle. Case in point: they could create a full suit of silver armour, shiny and chrome, with embossed details that made it look ceremonial, out of a material that was both lightweight and perfectly tailored to Eshen's shape (though he was going by Dion at the moment). Not very Hollywood, you might think, but the long, red cape on his back brought it back; it seemed he was taking the phrase 'red carpet outfit' very literally. He looked at though he'd just come off filming an episode of Frame of Bones. He also had red lipstick, a streak of ruby in his brown hair, and earrings shaped like silver moons - or, he did, before someone swapped one for a gold star. Somehow, even as he strode down the red runway, his armour remained quiet as a whisper.

Allan had gone with something, in comparison to his previous years' outfits at least, more simple. He was wearing a shimmering gold gown that looked almost poured onto him rather than sewn, a sleek column of metallic fabric that caught the light with every movement. The dress was cut with a deep V-neck collar, and fit closely through the waist and hips to flow into a train that skimmed the floor like spilled sunlight. At his throat rested a gold lariat necklace with a larger ruby heart at the end of it, and he also wore thin, white gloves that went a bit past his elbows. His bright red hair was styled as it usually was, though he'd put a small hair clip on the side of his hair away from his bangs - shaped like the skull of a raven, the bone part painted in a soft, more matte gold. And of course, he had some earrings: two series of hanging, golden stars. Or, well, one- one of his earrings had been swapped for a silver moon.

The whole way there, Abby fussed over her appearance. She liked the suit, but her hair was still so messy, and she didn't even put anything nice in the pocket. And maybe blue just wasn't the right color for makeup. Maybe she should call it all off. She took a look at the shimmering threshold to the ball. In she sucked a deep breath, accompanied by a gulp as she marched forward, determined to at least make good use of the time spent getting herself dressed.

Jayri entered into the hallway, her arms clasped together as they usually were. It had been a long time since she'd gone to an event like this, and she had put a little more effort into her outfit. The Trill walked on, watching her own reflection in the golden poles. The pearl necklace rested comfortably around her neck, a ribbon like belt rest around her wait as her long, almost curtain like white dress flowed freely with her steps. It felt a little much to her, but she wanted to end the year on a good note, and she couldn't deny that she was really happy with the way she looked.

Xal appeared through the entryway at the beginning of the red carpet. Tonight they were 6'9" in their heels, though the shoes were not visible underneath their dress. Their dress, which was a fitted, pink ballgown. The bodice hugged their torso and hips tightly, accentuating the curves of their waist and their thick thighs. The dress was a beautiful shade of pink with dark, sparkling pink sequined accents. They were sewn on in a pattern typical of the art deco style, with a combination of rounded lines meeting more angular ones - near vertical lines fanning up their torso to the hem of the bodice, waves on the hips, and angular pointed lines down the skirt. The skirt was long, bunching up at the floor some and flaring out at the end, with a little bit trailing behind them as they walked. They were wearing matching dark, velvety gloves that reached up to their elbows, and their golden jewelry with pink gemstones. A necklace, their earrings, and all of their facial piercings. Their hair was down and parted in the middle, as opposed to being slicked back like it normally was. And, on their arm was...

Coming into the ball, he had a DATE! This was rare considering Sakchai's romantic life was... not very great. He had some really supportive friends, which made him feel less alone at times like this. He was wearing a very stylish looking salmon pink suit with some strange plaid-like pattern on it. He had found it in the replicator and thought the human wearing it looked like an absolute legend so obviously he had to steal the style. Sakchai wasn't bold enough to try the matching pink hair, but he did have his fringe combed back to look very sleek and elegant. Was this classic hollywood? Whatever he was doing, he thought it was close enough.

Giddy and dressed-up, Ed felt a bit like he was a little kid again, getting to try on his older siblings' formal clothes, big enough on him to make it look like he was drowning in the fabric. Now, however, he was an adult, and his suit definitely fit correctly, although the feeling stayed the same. God, the lights made him feel like a celebrity, and he wanted to fist-bump the person who designed all of it. It truly did give off that 20th-century Hollywood energy, in the best way possible. He hoped that he did, as well. Before leaving, he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He found himself looking at the slicked-back hair, and the smooth lilac suit, and feeling like he was about to head to a film set where he'd smoke fake cigarettes and act like he was going to solve a murder.

Walking at a close distance to Edgar, Sterling's eye lenses narrowed slightly to prevent any retinal damage from the change from bright to dim lighting. He observed the area around him, seeing the velvet and what many would consider extravagance, and, tilting his head, glanced back at the son of his old friend. He had been told to look out for the boy, although he seemed quite keen on looking out for himself, but Sterling ultimately opted to go for his own benefit, to see what all of his fellow crew members were so keen on enjoying. He saw no need for clothes, as his outer shelling protected all of his inner circuitry, so he chose something simple. Practical. Useful, yet out-of-the-way. A white bow tie hung around his neck, seeming a bit awkward without a suit to go with it, but the effort was there nonetheless.

Not really wanting to trip on his rather cumbersome outfit, Shinji was a bit slower than he’d otherwise like to be, walking down the red carpet. He took in all the beautiful decorations just the same, though, marveling at them as he went along. And, by the stars above, was his outfit cumbersome. A tight-fitted, reddish-burgundy silk suit and matching pants, and a lighter pink collared undershirt, with a matching burgundy silk bow tie. All of it was luxurious, with a shimmer catching the light in the way only silk did. He wore dark leather dress shoes with a heel of an inch or so, fine and high quality but they weren’t the star of the show, though the buttons fastening them were gold. On the collar of his shirt were two gold pins connected by a string of pearls and a fine golden chain, for nothing but decoration. Atop fine, bouncy and perfectly style black curls, a 30s style white fedora with a silk band around it in the same color as the suit sat on his head, and on the silk band was a golden flower with a large diamond embedded in the center. His makeup was bold, full glam, with heavy mascara, dark pink and purple eyeshadow with plenty of glitter, blush with enough glitter to match, and a bold red-purple lip. And.. the star of the show.. a white, soft and luxurious fur stole wrapped around his shoulders and his arms, perhaps even longer than he was tall, and he was going a bit slower to make sure it wouldn’t drag, or get caught on his gold-tipped cane he rested on whenever he was stopped for any reason. This ball called for formal glam, and Shinji would do nothing except deliver. But first, food, as Shinji was starving as usual. So, he made his way to the buffet.

Tor adjusted his tie and walked past the others on the red carpet, beelining straight to the buffet. His outfit was simple, a brown suit with a blue tie, yet it was elegant enough to blend in with the crowd attending the Ball. He wasn't in the mood to show off like the others; he was just hungry.

Celik strut onto the red carpet, flipping his hair. It was down and stick straight despite his efforts to force curls upon it. He made sure to fit the old Hollywood theme to a T, only in black as he refused to wear color. He wore a backless boat-neck dress that tied into a bow at the base of his spine, and swirled down into a foot and a half long train with gloves to match. The fabric glittered in the lights, and faded to sheer as it descended downwards, or in the case of his arms, his fingertips. Sparkling black gems hung from his ears in large, almost gaudy earrings. His heels were not sparkly, but were patent and one was visible at all times through the slit up the side of his dress. He had no interest in food or laying around, he wanted to dance. His train made it difficult to dance as he normally would, but not impossible and Celik would stay on the floor until someone physically dragged him off.

She stayed a very careful distance away from the man’s train, as to not step on it or his hair. T’Prahphet had spent an hour taping her lobes to her head so they would stay hidden beneath her bob. Not that it would help her stay hidden, considering she had shown up in full Ferengi bling. A dark blue tail coat with colorful patterns embraoidered into the sides and interior, and matching pants. Gold chains hung all over the suit, and colored the transition between fabric and embroidery. It was something she had bought off her uncle for the event. She already had her excuse for the attire and the lack of cohering to the dress code, which she spent the night before rehearsing. Typically, she would not attend such an event, but she decided it may be good for business to make a public appearance. Potential customers may be directed to her shop, to then spend latinum, to then hopefully pay for the steep cost of her attire. No discounts for family. (edited)

River arrived in a juit. It was horrible. All denim, all one color. It was the only vaguely ‘nice’ thing he had, and it wasn’t nice at all. He couldn’t find the shirt, so his denim tie sat around his bare neck and the vest scratched against his skin. River wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it, but he figured no shirt, no vest with a tie and a blazer would be worse than what he already had going on. He had done his head fin in a sort of half combover as he couldn’t slick it back. It looked indescribably bad. River quickly shuffled out off of the red carpet as to escape his feeling of embarrassment.

Lente was determined to have a nice time before she went home soon. She walked onto the red carpet, having replicated herself a purple-white-and-grey suit set that she felt very comfortable wearing, and which fit her figure nicely. Alright, time to get a drink and then maybe find someone who could lead her through a waltz... she had no inherent skill at dancing, but following someone else's steps couldn't possibly be that difficult.

Jirai appeared at the beginning of the red carpet with his beautiful husband Felix on his arm. They were wearing matching tuxedos, though the colors of their outfits were inverted. Each jacket had a singularly colored lapel - Jirai's was dark blue and Felix's was a deep golden-brown. Jirai's jacket had diamonds with an art-deco style pattern in each diamond with blue lines separating them. His pockets were also dark blue, his shirt was white with golden buttons, and he had a dark blue bow tie. His pants were pleated and dark blue and he had on beautiful, shiny loafers. Felix's outfit was the exact same as Jirai's, except inverted. His pants were lighter than his jacket, his accent color was the goldish color and his jacket was mostly dark. Together they made a cute couple of grandpas walking down the red carpet.

"Let's go, dear. I want a drink." Felix said to Jirai briefly, squeezing his hand and pulling him toward the bar. Jirai smiled, content to follow his husband's lead.

Admittedly, the theme required some research. There was also the fact that this was the first winter ball he'd ever attended on this starbase - which was also his first official event here, in general. Reaching out to the Intel chatroom ended up as a weirdly encouraging endeavor, though, which is not a feeling Kairos lacked (there was... often an excess of it, really), but knowing what he was planning to rope himself into was nice, nonetheless. The tails of the dark blue overcoat were flowing behind him as he walked, it's bottoms tinted in ghostly blue. The suit he wore underneath it all was darker in tone, and the flower-shaped brooch he wore on it's lapel was made out of silver. It was an unintentional good match with his hair, which Kairos took care to part and style - just enough to match the appearance. The layers of clothes hid the twitching of his tail well, as the man looked around the amassing crowd, before deciding to head to the bar...

It was an easy bet to make that the likes of Amber Ruthven wouldn't be showing up to the Winter Ball. A social event, let alone the grandest one of the year? Please. It might have been even easier to bet that, if she did show up, she'd appear in a T-shirt and jeans; Hollywood? As a lost crew member wandering on set, maybe. Both bets, alas, were losers. In a striking green that accentuated her hair, the latter worn down with minimal fuss, Amber paraded down the red carpet with no dents in her usual, bombastic confidence. Velvet shone softly in streaks, catching the light as she walked, draped modestly against her body as well as around it, an over-the-shoulders cape concealing her arms and framing her sides down to her knees, where it ended lined with faux-fur. It appeared, then, that tonight, Amber would enjoy the attention passed in her direction. Beyond that, though... well, she was sure she'd figure out something to do, or someone to harass for the night, sooner rather than later.

Silver walked into the event with a look on her face that suggested that she had never been a part of anything even remotely resembling it. She’d be hopeless if Shinji hadn’t coached her, because she’d never really been to parties. A formal ball? That was a first for Silver. Though, she was hopeful that she’d have a good time. She was dressed in an outfit ripped straight from the 1920s, the rectangular boyish silhouette of the time matched her body perfectly. She wore a long, wine-purple sleeveless silk dress, the neckline cut straight without dipping at all, and since she had nothing to speak of on her chest at all, there was no curve to anything. On top of the dress was an almost transparent, burgundy colored layer that draped over everything, with a flower pattern that overlaid everything. Tied around her waist was a purple silk sash, cinching everything to give her at least some sense of shape. She wore purple flats, and carried a matching silver and purple clutch for her makeup and miniature PADD. She wore two strings of pearls that went to her upper abdomen, a gold choker, and gold drop earrings. She also wore white silk opera gloves, and a gold flower pin with a small purple feather in her hair. For makeup, she had pink blush and eyeshadow, and red lipstick. Dressed to the nines, she decided to make her way over to the bar.

Apollo took a few deviations from the theme. He took a look at some books with the style of fashion and decided it wasn't for him. He'd commissioned something of a tailor that would be much more his style than hats and suits. He wore a pale lavender, slightly shimmering jumpsuit, not uncommon of his father's home on Betazed. It came into a dipping, v-shaped neckline which exposed a portion of his chest, which he'd made the decision to leave unshaven, in a natural state, as his home would have thought best. The outfit flared out at the legs, which almost covered the black platform shoes he wore, adding an extra inch to his height. All, inevitably, topped off with a striped, zig zaggy black-and-white cowboy hat.

Victoria couldn't remember the last time she had attended a ball. She was on duty for the previous year's, and prior to that, there weren't very many held in the recovering regions of Qo'noS, either. Aboard Tranquility, then, when they weren't deployed to crisis zones. It was not lost on her that if she hadn't been on extended leave, she'd very much have taken the extra shift in Medical to allow another of her colleagues to attend the festivities. She would probably have enjoyed that more, on a normal day. But her days were short on normal, and so very much on a whim, she decided against precisely that, and a few minutes later, here she arrived on the red carpet. Cleaning up nicely despite the rush, Victoria had opted for a black evening gown, collarbone and shoulders left bare until sheer tulle would ruffle at her sleeves. The skirt moved almost more than she did as she shuffled down the carpet, layers of gauze drifting around her form in dramatic ways she would have preferred avoiding, on second thought. She'd also taken the opportunity to do up her hair - a once in a blue moon treat - with volume concentrated at her crown and waves drawn backwards, tied cleanly in a way that accentuated her cheeks and jaw. A pair of gloves, colour matched, reached her elbows, completing her look. Going back to that second thought of hers, though, she felt she were embodying a rich widow a little too well. Oh well, nothing several stiff drinks through the night couldn't fix.

Teno’s first ball experience on 777 the previous year had been so pleasant and enjoyable that he’d made absolutely certain he could attend now. He’d been anticipating it since the day after 2415’s ended, and had been waiting eagerly for the announcement of the theme. And after finding it out, he spent hours researching appropriate fashion to design his outfit. He took inspiration from a classic, 1930s tuxedo. His iteration was a deep, deep blue - his jacket, pants, and vest all the same fabric. His button up shirt was white, with the triangular flaps on the collar, and a matching blue bow tie. On the vest were tiny, gold stones interspersed throughout, resembling constellations, but only subtly. On his vest he also had one of those chains that was affixed to three points on the vest, including one of the buttons closer to his waist. His normally voluminous wavy hair had been slicked down and to the side with one drastic finger wave on the side. And he was smiling bashfully, as he walked down the carpet to join in the festivities. First, he wanted to dance.

During his diplomatic life, Tarsek had attended many social functions that could be described as "fancy". From dinners and cocktails with politicians tp traditional music and dancing presentations during peace talks, and yes that did occasionally include events comparable to balls. These events, however, always had something in common: at the time they happened, he was a Starfleet officer on duty and therefore would wear the appropriate uniform. The Winter Ball, as the others called, apparently was a tradition of the starbase and a chance for fraternizing between its habitants. That meant you could go on uniform, but one was encouraged to follow the theme and create their own fit. Tonight, the commander was nothing if not a striking presence at the start of the red carpet. He had done his research about the time period proposed and interestingly found his fashion sense leaning towards the female attire. The dresses and fabric cuts were somewhat adaptable to his own traditional formal wear, and the Vulcan was determined to honor his culture. A gown in both deep and light blue, the bodice and the front skirt were made of a heavier material and adorned with golden lining, the light blue fabric lighter, attached to the hips in a longer upper-skirt and composing the balloon sleeves. On top of it all, a sort of dark brown robe with golden script, cut into sharp angles giving him the traditional Vulcan silhouette. It all was held together by a thick belt, also golden, with flowers not much different from lilies engraved on it. This made it possible for the robe to be taken off if Tarsek so desired. The final detail of his look was a long necklace with stones and gems from his homeworld, cut in diverse sizes and shapes. Whether it was too Vulcan or not, no one could claim the starbase XO did not know how to dress to impress. He trailed down the carpet ready to explore the event.

T'Evoryn glided into the hallway with an air of grace, though noticeably a lot stiffer than she should be. In theory, she had been to many such social events. If only she could remember them. Regardless, there wasn't a hint of unconfidence in the Vulcan. Her arms were covered by long gloves, with an elaborate pearl necklace that rested comfortably on her chest, topped off with a period appropriate satin black dress and long cape to boot. Perhaps tonight would be a good night, a chance to unwind and meet more of the crew. Whatever the case may be, she'd do her best to enjoy herself.

Rarely does a Starfleet officer report to their new assignment and get told to just attend a party and enjoy themself for the day - an opportunity offered by Starbase 777, it seems, not that Jara was going to complain about that. The more free time the better. Honestly, she'd found the dress code quaint - she could swear humans probably wore stuff like this hundreds of years ago or something - but after half an hour of searching the computer's databanks and settling on a silver dress of a design apparently worn by someone the computer called Marilyn Monroe, only then did she begin to understand the appeal of it. The dress felt pretty damn good on her - less the hideous furry cape-thing she decided to just forego. What the heck were the humans thinking? That, and the heeled shoes squeezed her feet to an honestly offensive degree, so those went too in lieu of a pair of far more comfy pumps. Nobody had said to be entirely authentic. Either way, she felt pretty good walking through the doors of the events hall. She didn't know how to dance, but she wasn't here for the dancing anyway! She beelined immediately for the buffet table... (edited)

A rare sight at a party - the captain himself! Though compared to the rest of the people here, his outfit didn't make him stand out much. Black suit, black trousers, black buckled shoes - he would be inappropriately plain for hollywood attire if not for all his gold accessories: earrings, rings, bracelets, the buckles on his shoes, even a cheeky piercing or two he didn't have before (fakes - maybe), enough to make outswag a Ferengi pimp. The collar of his suit also had a metallic texture to it, like a layer of golden squares had been sewn to it in a way that's hard to describe in text. The only thing preventing it from being gaudy was... Actually, it was pretty gaudy, no denying it; this was just a (believe it or not) subdued attempt at trying to make Ferengi fashion fit the theme. They were all lucky his suit was black and not some sort of mauve, grandma's wallpaper-patterned visual mess with patches of chartreuse and indigo, or whatever overcomplicated design he could monetarily force a tailor to wrangle. (edited)

Garcia took large steps towards the ball, as large as her short legs and long skirt allowed her. Which is a way to say she actually made quite small steps. Maybe it is why she was a bit late, or maybe it was all the fancy getting ready. Her dress was a mix of soft velvet fabric for her bodice and light georgette at the bust and skirt. It was layered and feel to the ground with an uneven cut, shorter at the front, showing her classic mahogany heels. The bust was hemmed with golden details and right in the middle rested a brooch with pearls and sparkly gems. The rest of her jewelry followed the same pattern: big earrings and a choker, framed by golden metal. As for her hair and makeup, she choose to keep her long dark brown curls completely free, as opposed to her usual ponytail, and red lipstick adorned her lips paired with a smoky classical black eyeshadow. She smiled wide, eager to see all of her colleagues dressed up to their best and made her way inside. (edited)

With Telim at school then with Elohae later, an arrangement that took a time to sort out, Vara'l arrived rather late to the ball. A creature of habit and someone who honestly reckoned it'd be a bit much if he'd come in something else, Vara'l elected to wear what he'd worn last Winter Ball he'd attended. Hair tied back in its customary pony tail, Vara'l had woven in his silver vine hair jewellery through his hair and paired that with his white shirt, green suit jacket and black trousers. His green jacket's vine decorations had not changed since last ball, he failed to see any reason to do so. Though this year, it wasn't as much cause of how he happened to see himself. No, Allan Allen had caused him to seriously reconsider that. To reconsider how he looked at the metal that was a part of him, the implants that couldn't be removed. Those of them whose metal work was younger, a product of replacement after his injuries on the cube. A reconsideration he'd progressed far enough along the proverbial road of that well. He'd elected to make no effort to conceal them in a way he might have at the previous ball, if other things hadn't grasped his focus. He'd actually attempted to weave the metal vines through his hair and the like in a way that utilised them to compliment the jewellery. Not that he expected the attempt had been successful, considered he still reckoned he had the fashion sense of a brick. He'd just wanted to have a go at making himself.. look nicer in more ways than just putting on the suit. Nothing wrong with that, he honestly reckoned now as his mind called up those photos. Considered how he'd looked in the mirror before he'd taken a black booted step into this space. Yeah, nothing wrong with that, the Romulan reckoned as he looked around and then started to make his way inside.

The Red Carpet was not a place that Zhi’rev ever thought he would be, but at the same time, it was a place where he could thrive (if he got over his paranoia for a time, it wasn’t like anyone would be coming after him here of all places, after all, it was not like anyone would be coming after him at all). It was an excuse for him to get all dressed up and have a good time, and that was exactly what he was going to do. This was a time for him to enjoy himself, this was a time for him to actually have fun. (It wasn’t like he was able to really have fun most of the time when he was at work, no, it was all work and no play). He walked down the red carpet with the same confidence that he always carried himself with, that same easy confidence that he tried to project onto the world. His outfit itself had been made by him, with some replicated elements – based on extant garments and pictures that he was able to find from the era itself. He wanted to look the part – with a little bit of flair of course. Black slacks, a white vest, and a jacket of dark green velvet with golden piping for the details. A statement piece for an otherwise simple outfit. He looked like he had stepped out of a picture, even doing his hair in a period-accurate way, and he was proud of how he looked. Now, he walked into the event itself, his long jacket fluttering behind him as he did so.

They were not sure how they really looked, they were not sure if they looked good, but really, they were not sure if they cared, after all, it was not logical to care about such things, it was not logical to worry about such things. Even if they were not sure how they looked, they still made their way into the ball, down the red carpet, eyes staring at the ground in front of them. Their outfit had been mostly replicated, after all, they did not have the skills to sew something so fine, nor did they have garments that really fit the bill. It was expected, and so, even if they were not sure whether they would wear things like this again, they donned the clothes of a long lost era. They wore a black suit and vest, typical of actors of the era, with a white shirt and a burgundy bowtie to tie everything together. They had even slicked back their hair for the occasion, thinking that would look neater than their usual style. Deep down, they hoped that they would fit in well enough, they had taken the prompt and theme rather literally after all.

she wasn't sure how she had got here really. Never had she imagined she would ever end up on a red carpet. No less dressed how she was in a suit reminiscent of some long gone era of earth! She wore a white button up with bell sleeves under a dark Navy suit with coattails. Her trousers were the same Navy and had gold threading around the pockets. The gold threads also were present on the collar and around the breast pocket of the jacket. A gold chain attached either side of the folded openings of the suit jacket. Somehow she had gotten hold of a pocket watch which she now looked at in her palm. It was an antique and had someone's initials on the inside and had a rose engraving on the outside of the watch. She looked at it. She was glad it still had worked and was happy her parents had found it. The gentle ticking grounded her as she stepped out onto the carpet.

[!] Before the buffet.. When it looked like things were slow enough, the new hire quietly made his way down the entrance. Trying to dress for an event when you have no experience with fashion was a whole 'nother social challenge for him. Classic Hollywood, bring your best tuxedos and dresses.. he just wanted to keep it simple. Though poverty wasn't really a thing anymore, the full suits just felt too 'rich' for him. He liked simple, he liked to be modest and not stick out. So Wesley wore a dark green partial suit. It was the dress pants, and a double-buttoned vest. No tuxedo jacket, just a long-sleeved blouse, a tie, and a poinsettia pinned to him. He had shoulder pads tucked under his blouse, and tried to carve out his body to lean towards masculinity in a subtle way. Wesley fiddled with a small allen wrench hidden in the palm of his hand, it was something small enough to fidget with and easy enough to slip into his pocket. His thumb pressed along the distinct ridges of the tip as he made his was down the carpet and towards the buffet. Today's goal was to stay at least an hour.

This year may have been a tough time for Paco, but it will not be an excuse for him to miss out on celebrating his favorite season of the year! As with every year, Paco approached the red carped clad in bright orange and white tux. Neatly wrapped up packs of dried mangoes in a hand bag by his side, Paco happily hummed his favorite Christmas jingles as he made his way into the party. The yule-tide season was a time for Paco to do three things: forget the struggles and shortcomings he faced during the year; celebrate triumphs with the jolly company of his friends and family here in Starbase 777; and reflect on how to better himself for the upcoming year. It was also one of the days where he can hapily indulge himself in the various holiday eats in the bar or buffet. Paco was all wide and bright smiles to see everyone for the holidays as he made his way inside, and probably to the latter since he abstained from eating lunch today to happily partake on the buffet.

Jilla was fashionably late as always, had to make them want it before arriving. The beautiful Orion walked into the gala in a sparkling gold dress, with matching black opera gloves and heels. She wore a dazzling black and gold boa around her neck. Around 6 of her fingers were some rings that read out a simple message. T-R-I-7-7-7’s She knew how to market her business thank you very much. Jilla stepped towards the bar.

Unlike the very excessive casino owner, Acul walked with a much more quiet air. Wearing a pretty white dress, the high school teacher needed a night off (what! Teenagers sucked no matter how much she cared for the kids). Acul shook her shoulders as if to shake loose the stress from the semester as she headed in.

No better way to make first impressions than a gala, right? Parties usually meant people were less formal, more laid back. But a gala was...also a fancy party. Junot steps onto the red carpet, a pale yellow dress on, with cute ruffles that draped around her feet. Her arms were adorned with several bracelets and cuffs, each a different style, with a different story. Just be normal. Smile, make small talk. Easy enough. And yet, still so nerve wracking. She headed inside, exhaling softly.

Senang arrived fashionably late, his elegant golden ensemble tailored to perfection, no jewellery on him aside from the piercings he always wore to make sure his outfit spoke for itself: the long shimmering gown draping off him in precisely the style of the era the decorations were from, the small cape in a paler fabric to ensure visual interest, same with the darker gloves. He wondered briefly whether he would see any familiar faces; but then, most of the station would end up at the ball eventually. He was sure he'd find someone to chat with eventually.

The romulan-klingon hybrid moved with confidence and heavy steps. This was the first themed party she attended in years, and certainly any costume party at the SFA organized by cadets could not compare to a real event sanctioned by Starfleet on a starbase of this magnitude. At first she thought about going with her uniform option. It was safe, certainly would not break code and she would not call a lot of attention with it. Well, fuck that option! Marze was ready to show herself proud and loud. With the help of some old articles she found in the databases and the replicators she pulled something up. A traditional 30s suit. Pants and vest smartly cut and sewn in heavy grey fabric, golden buttons and accents along it. A collared dark shirt underneath, with a red tie. Only… the shirt was sleeveless! Marze was not one to completely cover herself up, her physique, she so carefully carved with hard exercise and discipline, had to be shown somehow. As to make sure she was still properly in theme: a dark red cape rested on her shoulders, the tone close to her tie’s, with fluffy fur sewn along the entire hem. A pair of derbys on her feet, black and shiny, with a small heel that clicked as she took each step. She wore no makeup, but her hair had received a different attention: her braid was up in a bun. Lastly, several golden earrings adorned her pointed ears. Oh she was ready to party!

Vialara had turned up to the ball rather later than most of the other guests, none of her usual partners had mentioned their planned attendance for tonight, so she was getting ready by herself. Vialara was never one to miss an opportunity to go out and meet other people however. Vialara wore a very stunning white dress with golden accents throughout, with plenty of very elegant looking pieces of jewellery to accent the look, courtesy of Verelan and her ability to find anything available for sale anywhere remotely nearby. Her hair as usual was stunningly put together, but for a rare change, Vialara had her hair worn down, which was a very rare sight indeed.

Ato hated to admit it, but he'd been isolating quite a bit since the away mission earlier in the year. He was okay now, mostly, just still a bit wary of being around other people. He'd always been a bit more of an introvert, even though he was also an adrenaline seeker. He'd not really sought much adrenaline, though, and the ball seemed like a good place to dip his toes back in. Social adrenaline was a bit less dangerous than throwing himself off a cliff in a cliff diving program with the safeties turned down. Which was not particularly recommended, but had been something he'd been considering. So, he was on the red carpet now, dressed in an a cream colored, velvety suit with a dark brown tie, a deep burgundy pocket square, and a white buttoned shirt. He'd somehow managed to tame his hair into something more akin to slicked back waves, though he'd gotten a recent lineup and his sides were very nicely shaved into a fade. His brown leather shoes shone in the light and his steps were sure as he traveled down the carpet, heading directly for the bar to nurse a drink and maybe strike up a conversation with someone.

Late to the party, but just in time to see the end of it, was Tavek! He was dressed a little less extravagantly, but he still looked quite fancier than he usually did. He’d swapped all his piercings for gold instead of his usual steel, and he wore a dark burgundy eyeshadow. His hair was combed and gelled back in a more formal men’s style of the 60s era, no bangs this time, never-before-seen forehead on full display. He wore a pinstripe suit, in a color matching his eyeshadow, and a wine-purple vest underneath. Under that, he had a white collared shirt, and a tie matching the vest. On his lapel, he wore a snowflake pin, fitting for the season. He wore dark brown leather dress shoes. All in all, he wasn’t a showstopper, but everything was tailored perfectly, and he was the classiest he was ever going to look. He headed to the buffet, just to check things out.

Having ambushed Rakim with a cat to look after, Twelve eventually turned up at the Winter ball. * *Dressed in a purple dress selected for comfort with a number of cat motifs running about its back and with her hair covered in a silver shawl adorned with animal decorations, the boot wearing xB smoothly walked straight into the ball without stopping. Not at all concerned with how her selection of clothing or make up may be considered by others. They'd decided upon something and that was that, they considered it aesthetically satisfactory enough to them. It'd also caused Rakim to suffer some form of linguistic stumble, which she assumed was an assessment that what she'd elected to wear worked. Twelve reckoned she was fairly disinclined to check to see if anyone they recognised in the red carpet area at the moment. They wanted to satisfy their fluid intake requirements with something alcoholic and then to eat something. So, she just headed straight along the carpet and into the ball. Presumably, a bar would be present and easily located, the xB mused. That'd do.

Very, very late to the party was a young Vulcan ensign named Vanik. He’d come to the ball the previous year and the only way he would have missed it was to be scheduled for a shift during its entirety. Thankfully, he’d volunteered to work for part of the ball and been so graciously given off for the second half. And so here he was, fresh from the shower with damp glistening hair, dewy skin, and a gorgeous suit with a cloak trailing behind him. He had modeled his outfit off of one from a Terran movie he’d seen in the academy with his closest friend. He strode in, a bit more confidently than he did the year before, and made his way to the buffet to find something delectable to eat.