2227-04-24 - The Debut

Tamlin and Beckham meet at the Spring 2227 cotillion.

Date: 2227-04-24

Location: The Grande Hotel, Caprica City, Caprica

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 551

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The ball has been flowing smoothly. Hands have been shaken, women have been kissed, and drinks enough to fill a small sea have been passed out. Everyone is on their best behavior, as the debutante's ball has proceeded through the usual 'courses'. For the guests, there's been time to enjoy and to be enjoyed, to observe, and to be put on display. But for the girls making their debut, it has been nothing but nerves. Their dresses have been selected, their partners have been arranged, and all should be well, but up in the salon, where the girl have been gathered it's nearly a meltdown of monumental proportions. Only one of the girls seems entirely disinterested in the last minute touches to hair and makeup, the flippant finery she's dressed in. For all the look on her face, she might well be going to the gallows. And so there's not even a smile, as the girls are finally herded to the door to be paraded out. Indeed, it won't be until the moment right before she comes into view at the top of the stares, that Tamlin Dorn will put on an reserved smile and proceed down the stairs as her name is announced.

As the girls to make their debuts were selected months ago, there was already jockeying amongst the parents on what of the eligible young men would be chosen to escort each girl

Little did Tamlin or her chosen escort know what went on behind the scenes to arrange this meeting. Standing with the other escorts at the bottom of the stairs, the carefully choreographed dance of matches are carried out. When Tamlin is announced, her escort, Beckham Niles is wearing the same neutral smile as she. Stepping forth, he offers a bow to her to await her acceptance of his arm for her first dance before her father gets to have a dance with her.

The first response, like a punch in the gut, is nearly Tamlin's undoing, as she sees the young man, looking for all the world barely older, only a year or two, than she is, stepping out to meet her at the base of the stairs. And the fact that the response immediately after is actually a pleasant one, only seems to darken the young woman's mood. Not that her face shows it. Only her eyes, as she steps down into the young man's space, a hand settling lightly on his arm. Her eyes, of course, once they are stepping towards the dancefloor look dark and angry. Even if she does have a company smile on.

It is not that she is not beautiful, she is. It's that the only thing he knows about her is her name. Arm accepted, he musters up a polite smile as he moves to lead her onto the dance floor. One hand settles lightly upon her shoulder as the other is taken within her hand as he gets off on the wrong foot. It is a minor thing, but noticeable to her as he furrows his brows. "So..." he ventures as they move across the floor. "My name's Beckham. Nice to meet you." A lame attempt at an icebreaker.

Tamlin knows how this game is played, and she isn't about the embarrass her family by having an episode in the middle of the dancefloor. She may not have liked the idea of this debut, but she's going to see it through. And it's not as if he's terrible to look at either. If only...well, if only she wasn't she and he wasn't, well, who he is. "Tamlin," comes the carefully modulated reply, as she settles into the dance. And as the dance begins, and he stumbles, she doesn't even miss a beat, covering smoothly for him until he can sweep her up into the flow of the melody.

Once she speaks and immediately does not flee the dancefloor, Beckham seems to relax and pulls her into the melody with him as they start to glide. "Not a fan of this either, huh?" comes the question shared between them. "Heard some of the seniors were planning a bonfire tonight." Totally would rather be there. Then he offers a coy smile. "Think they'll notice if we slip right out the door, snag a car and drive out to the party in all our finery?"

Tamlin, to her credit, is a wonderful dancer, and so you're at least not saddled with some of the wooden dolls that a few of the other unfortunate young men seem to have been saddled with. She's tall, for her gender, and so she fits easily under your hands, without you having to make yourself too uncomfortable trying to move with her. "They probably would notice, but I'm not sure if I would care." Okay, so she's letting some of her rebellious streak out.

Really, as they move around the floor, for a moment Beckham doesn't feel quite saddled with the young woman in his arms. Meeting her hazel eyes with his blue ones, he grins at her mention of not caring. "Oh really?" he asks her playfully, squeezing her hand and pulling her closer so that her curves close to his frame as he slides his hand from her shoulder to her side. "You could always claim what a cad I was later, forcing you out onto the balcony, into the car, down to the bonfire - that you just had no choice but to have fun out of the fear for your safety.." he winks at her. "Surely the judge would be far more lenient with you, and my parents would have to pay for my bail." There's a playful coyness to his tone, as if trying to figure out if she's all talk about this rebellious streak of hers.

Never let it be said that Tamlin Dorn did not know how to make good on her promises. She promised to see this even through, and so she does, allowing her companion to draw her closer, her body fitting neatly against his frame. And it is is a bit closer than strictly necessary or appropriate, she doesn't seem to notice nor care. Only a slight tilt of her head is needed to allow her to meet his eyes. Thank goodness for indelicately high heeled shoes. She leans in, her voice low enough that even with her lips close to his ear, it;s difficult to hear her, "My parents are far more likely to believe that I was the one who led you astray."

There's a laugh at that, a light airiness that even if they are having to do this as they are duty-bound to do, but there's something in her words - a challenge that is left unspoken for the moment as she is nearly the same height as he. Beckham presses her closer for a moment to respond, the press of their bodies together nearly indecent as he responds. "When you're done with your father/daughter dance, meet me at the back porch, we'll sneak off together." he tells her, before releasing her as the music starts to come to a close, and he spies her father approaching.

And much like her, he quickly puts on that company masque again. "Mister Dorn. Your daughter is quite charming company, and I am honored to have shared her first dance, but I believe that it is time for me to return her to her proud father." With that, he moves his hand captured within hers to hand over to her patriarch as he steps back and tips his head politely to the pair as he goes to find a drink. As she dances with her father, if she looks for him, she'll find Becks moving to the side balcony, as he said he would.

It isn't difficult to hear the whispers, not just from the dancers around them, but from the gathered gentry watching the pair move along the periphery of the dancefloor, the closeness of their bodies drawing not only whispers and a few disapproving looks, but a response from Tamlin, her figure softening, just the slightest bit. But then the dance of over and she's handed off. Morten Dorn looks thunderous, as he takes his daughter's hand, not even his best breeding able to fully mask the disapproval on her father's face as he leads his daughter away. And as she dances, there's a stiffness in her footwork that wasn't there before, her father's lips moving, but barely, though his words are inaudible. When the dance finally ends, for a long, almost too long a while, Tamlin disappears into the room and into the crowd, to be received by her wellwishers. But all hope is not lost, as Tamlin finally announces herself with a rustle of fabric as she slips onto the balcony.

Sitting on the edge of the balcony, Beckham had snuck a cigarette, taking a long draw off of it, and waving his hand to chase away the smoke contrails as it comes out of his nose. Hearing the rustle of fabrics, he glances over, and arches a brow at the young woman. "This where you come tell me that your daddy disapproves and that I'm banned from the club forever?" he asks her with a smirk to the side of his face as he shakes his head. "Parents made me come here - said it would help their standings in the community. Guess I frakked that up good, huh?"

Tamlin's hands are holding up her dress, allowing her to walk without dragging or getting caught in anything as she makes her way along the balcony, "Oh, not at all. With my father it will never be about you. It's always me." She moves to the edge of the balcony, leaning up against the railing and holding out a hand for you to pass the cigarette. "At any rate, they won't ban you from the club until they know for certain if you'll be presented at the beautillion." Because if girls need to endure the pain, so do men. She nods, at the comment about his parents, "You're a Niles, aren't you?"

"The one and only. As bad as that is." Beckham passes over the cig for her as he shakes his head. "Well, if you end up saddled with me there, you know that I'm terrible already." he points out with a grim smile as he considers. "As much as my parents pay for this bullcrap, I doubt they'll be kicking me out unless I burn the place down. How hard was he on you?" There's a glance back inside. "I know my father is going to smack the frak outta me when hears about this, but meh. That's just a Friday." He considers her for a moment, "So what's your story? I didn't take you as the type to tell daddy to take a flying leap."

"Actually, my mother did mention that I had been requested for that evening. She even has the dress picked out." Tamlin takes a drag, holding the smoke in for a long moment, before she lets it out again, "Depends on if they were willing to put up the money to rebuild it." There's a shake of her head, as she brushes off the question about her father's talking to. "Is this what you do on a Friday? Find a girl you don't know and see what you can convince her to do?" A light shrug, "I do what I want. My father doesn't appreciate that."

"No..." Okay, that caught Beckham off guard and he gets a hint of color to his cheek before he corrects her. "More like - what way can I piss him off today." His shrug mimics her own and he looks down. "So. We're here. I know where the party is. If we decide to do this, do we really give a damn how much trouble we get in?" he asks of her, studying her face and eyes, and then offers his hand to her. "Let's blow this lameness. I have my car here."

Tamlin takes another drag, before she hands the cigarette back to you to finish. The clarification doesn't seem to relieve her at all, but it does bring a light curl to her lips, "Oh, so it's not the girl that's important, just how angry it will make him? Well, seeing as your father has business with mine, I think it might be the nuclear option for you." Once you ask the question, Tamlin slips her hand into yours, fingers intertwining, as she allows him to lead the way. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Who said the girl isn't important?" Beckham asks with a lift his brow as he takes up the cigarette to draw from it a final time before snuffing it off on the banister to let it fall to the side as he finds his hand in yours, fingers linked and he meets her eyes for a moment, and bites his lip. She just became a lot hotter in his mind as he leaps over the banister first and into the bushes beyond, reaching to lift her over the side. "Going to frak up your dress." he says with a grin as he pulls her over, and starts to lead the way to the parking lot. "Frak the valet. He'll cry like a bitch to our parents." With that, he's pulling his extra key fob out of his pocket and presses the button, a sports car revving to life, and the doors lifting to allow the two entrance within.

"Every male over the age of puberty with a wallet full of money and a fancy car since...forever." Tamlin settles onto the railing, hiking up her dress, till it's very nearly a tutu, bundling up the fabric and slipping a leg over the railing and clambering over. She slips down, using your hands to guide her weight to the ground.

Beckham grins, as he leads her to a small small silver sports car, apparently a convertible made for two. He moves to let you settle in first, "I'd let you drive, but I know where we're going." he says with a wink at her. Once she's settled, he climbs in and starts the car with a roar, which quickly becomes a purr of a rumble as he revs the engine a couple of times, before racing out of the parking lot with a screech of tires as he races through the parking lot and onto the main road to head away from the country club and its stuffy ball.


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