What Is It?
This is a benefit party for St. Mungo's Hospital. The purpose of the benefit is to raise funds for the upcoming year for the hospital. There will be donation boxes, a silent auction of donated items/artifacts, a date auction, as well as competitive dueling put on by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Live bands have also been hired to play. This also doubles as a societal event. It gives people the chance to dress up, be seen, and socialize. There will be dancing, drinks, and large spread of appetizers/finger foods. Really the possibilities are endless as to what would be offered at the event. No expense has been spared.

When & Where?
Gala is on December 31st- New Year's Eve. It begins at 8PM and continues until 2AM. The event itself will be held at St. Mungos. The fifth floor has been magically enlarged to house the entire event. For those big donators who are interested, tours of the facility will be given.

Guest List
The Winter Gala is an open event to all adult witches, wizards, and squibs. Special invitations have been sent to those in the societal circles of Liadán and Dolly. An open invitation was also printed in the Daily Prophet a few times leading up to the event.

Dress Code
This event requires witches and wizards to be in dress robes. (Exceptions including those working the event or those hired for entertainment- such as band members and the aurors who will be dueling for charity.) It is a chance for your characters to dress up and enjoy a fancy party!

Threading
There will be one main "party" thread for large scale interaction. However, feel free to start your own threads on the fifth floor throughout the duration of the party! Just be sure to date them December 31st 2009 or January 1st 2010 if it's after midnight. Please tag your threads with "St. Mungo's Benefit".

Questions?
If you have any questions about the event, please send a PM to Liadán Ó Móráin and/or Dolly St. James.

With the help of a team of wands and decorators, the fifth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital had been transformed from a visitor's tearoom to an elegant ballroom. The ceiling was charmed to look like the night sky- stars shining bright against the blackness. The floor had the illusion of being black and white marble. The colorscheme was silver and black- classic, timeless, elegant, and less gaudy than most holiday color combinations. An orchestra was set up on stage, playing soft music. One corner of the room housed a large buffet table of finger foods, tables set with lovely centerpieces, and an open bar. In the other corner was a display of the items set up for silent auction- including the dates they had planned to auction. All in all it was an event to be proud of. Simple, functional, and beautiful.

Liadan and Dolly had put a lot of effort into planning the Winter Gala. Many big names in the wizarding world had agreed to make an appearance, they had invited popular wizarding bands to perform, and had even coaxed the DMLE into dueling for charity. Things had fallen into place quite nicely- surprising given the unlikely pairing of women planning the event.

People had started to filter into the room right on time. Liadan stood with Dolly, greeting guests as they arrived. The two were being incredibly friendly, with each other and those who were arriving. After being seen with him, Liadan had sent Oscar on his way to socialize with those of his own circle. He could help charm some of his political friends out of lovely donations, Liadan had no doubt of that. She kept reaching up to finger the pearls around her neck that he had given her for Christmas, and was regularly fussing with her skirt between arrivals- but Liadan was pleased with her outfit. It was a traditional dress which matched their color scheme. It had belonged to her mother once upon a time, and she was glad to have found an occasion to wear it.

She offered a bright smile at who came through the door next. "Good evening!" she greeted brightly. "We are so very pleased to welcome you to the St. Mungo's benefit gala! We hope that you have a wonderful evening!"

"I'm sure I will,"  Michael answered.  He extended a hand.  "Michael Styx.  Werewolf  Capture.  I'll be dueling on behalf of my unit tonight, assuming I don't get called to an emergency.  I've managed to convince my supervisor to allow me the night off to enjoy myself,  without having to resort to blackmail, fake injury or Unforgivable curses.  Is there anything you need help with?  I may not be the greatest decorator in the world but my confetti bombs work like a charm."

He chuckled warmly.  He was wearing a navy blue dress robe trimmed with silver  but the sleeves of a white shirt could be spotted in the shadows of the billowing arms.  He would be a touch warm unless he had taken steps to keep himself cool under the extra layers.  It was a practical decision.  Rather than having to take the time to change, all he needed to do was shed the outer layer and he would be ready to duel or to head straight out into the night to deal with an errant werewolf.

"May I present Miss Vivian Callen?"

Vivian smiled at the hostesses of the nights events. She felt a bit dressed down in her scarlet Auror robes, but she was dueling for the event tonight, and that required a certain air of authority; and her scarlet robes provided just the sort of professional look she required. In case the dueling ended early, she did have a normal black dress on underneath, one that fit perfectly beneath the robes and didn't suffocate her at all.

"Vivian Callen," she said after Michael had introduced her. She extended her hand as well in greeting to the hostesses. "I'll be dueling on behalf of my unit as well," she said, raising an eyebrow to Michael. It would be quite amusing if they ended up dueling one another. Vivian was very competitive, and she got the feeling Michael might be as well. "And I'm also on call. I do hope you get a good turnout for the charity duel, assuming that not all of us are on call." She said with a bright smile, it was the was their world worked. On call or not, there was always something to intercept or rescue or investigate. Especially on such big nights like during a big Gala.

Liadan smiled brightly as the werewolf capture agent presented himself. Oh! How lovely! She was quite glad to hear he would be dueling. "I certainly wish you much luck with the duel, Mr. Styx. I understand that the Capture Unit is quite skilled with their wands and physically fit. I suppose you would have to be considering your profession- which is indeed a very noble one." And it was. He protected the public from the constant threat of rogue werewolves, which was very noble indeed. And he didn't come prying around her farm being obnoxious- like the aurors had a habit of doing the last year or so.

"That is a very generous offer of you, Mr. Styx. But you are here to enjoy yourself and have a lovely time! You leave the decor up to myself and Miss St. James. You needn't worry yourself with such matters. You should worry yourself with dancing and entertaining your lady friend."

Liadan took Vivian's hand in her own. She'd never had any personal interaction with this particular auror, but treating her with disdain would be entirely rude and inappropriate given the meaning of the evening. "It is a pleasure, Miss Callen." She was also dueling? Liadan felt the slightest twitch of her upper lip, but she smoothed it out into a charming smile as quickly as it came. Ladies were not meant to duel. There were some sports meant wholly for men- dueling among them. But let the other ladies do what they would, Liadan could at least maintain a propriety- even if nobody else seemed capable of it.

"I certainly hope that you have a lovely evening, Miss Callen. And I also wish you luck in the duel. It should be good sport for the evening." Liadan had little confidence that a lady would last long against the men who were dueling. "I am quite looking forward to the results of the duel. I've put a few wagers of my own on those participating. As it all goes to a good cause, I can excuse gambling just this once."

Nightingale, who had never been much for these sorts of events somehow ended up being roped into the auction. It wasn't to be said that he wouldn't have volunteered, but now seeing the room full of faces he was having second thoughts all together. For the third time this month he'd put on his best, but this time he'd dawned much darker colors. Trimmed in gold he almost felt like a prince, and mused while fussing over his lapels in the bathroom. This was the sort of man Arthur had wanted of him, but certainly not anywhere close to whom he truly was. However, for one night--for the sake of charity he could pretend to be whatever it was they were in need of, and would put forth his best foot in order to see St. Mungo's through.

Without a date tonight he felt rather alone, and wondered if he should have at least brought along Maiko for company. The room was large, the entire 5th floor enough to seat an entire city (or so it felt) made him think of his days at the Ministry. A good thing, because he wanted everything that made him think of his time when he stayed here at the hospital to always be replaced. A gloved hand absently came up to touch the leather that crossed his face he smiled a little at the memory, and was amazed at how much had changed.

With a heavy sigh, Gale assumed his place along the outsides of the room, and he stayed close to an exit. An old gypsy habit wouldn't allow him to ever turn his back on any of the entrances long enough, and he certainly stayed away from all dark corners. However, looking around the room at the guests he was quick to realize how charity events always brought out the worst in people, by bringing out the absolute gut turning falsehood in every smile.

Kill me now...

Moira had actually been looking forward to an evening out since the moment she had volunteered to be on call during the dueling demonstration should someone find themselves in need to medical assistance.  She had gone out of her way to choose a dress that wouldn't prove a hindrance should she be needed, but would allow her to otherwise blend in with the rest of the crowd.

The Tearoom had been completely transformed and took a moment to admire all the work that had gone into just the decorating.  Having grown up a bit sheltered from society events, she couldn't help musing that the ambiance was very much the way she imagined it would be.  Everything seemed so perfect, so elegant.  The stories she had heard growing up from her cousin about the parties her father's family used to host suddenly seemed a great deal less like fiction.

Liadán, whom she had met previously, was standing near the door and Moira offered a small smile in her direction as she made her way towards a drink table.  Feeling a bit out of place without anyone beside her, she decided that having a drink in her hand would give her something else to focus on, even if it was non-alcoholic until after the duels.

Nikari walked into the tearoom and looked around, the decorations were beautiful and you couldn't even tell it was a tearoom before.  She spotted the hostesses and walked over to them and suddenly felt self-conscious about what she was wearing.  "Hello." she said to the two women, she thought she remembered their names, but the information seemed to slip her mind just as she was going to say it.

[1]

1.	I couldn't think of anything else

"You've done an excellent job with the decorations,"  Michael answered.  "My congratulations.  You mustn't allow me to monopolize your time, however.  Your other guests might get jealous and I'd rather not have too many people eager to see me lose on the dueling piste.  I'm sure there are already one or two that would like to see me lying flat on my back staring up at the ceiling with a dopey grin on my face."

He smiled at Vivian.  "I think I may even have one of them on my arm.  If you want me flat on my back, you're going to have to work for it, dear."  He leaned closer.  "At least here anyway," he added in a whisper that tickled the Auror's ear.

Rosie Pendlewick was playing two roles tonight—and she was trying very, very hard to remember them both. The first was fairly easy, because every time she brushed her hands against the crisp uniform robes of the Three Broomsticks staff, she remembered that she was, in fact, part of the catering crew of this event, bustling cheerfully hither-and-thither with trays of fanciful brews giving off pale green smoke, bite-sized sandwiches and dainty pastries that represented all five floors of the hospital (personally, she rather thought she'd prefer to avoid second floor's representation—it had wings of sugar that flapped a bit too realistically for her preferences) and ensuring that no hand was empty for longer than it took to swish over and hold out a tray. The second, she remembered only because she had very carefully written a number down on her hand in unsmearable ink. Cory (Terpsichore, but never to her face) and Boreas Pendlewick would have attended themselves, but the elderly pair had decided that a nice night home by a cozy fire with the dogs snoring on their feet was really what they preferred these days. But the Pendlewicks had been contributors to St. Mungo's 1600's, and they were hardly going to snub their noses at the institute simply because the only Pendlewicks remaining weren't up for the partying anymore.

And so Rosie had been sent as delegate, to have a good time dearie, when they give you a break, and provide the family's annual contribution.

Humming happily to herself near the refreshments, the blonde woman peeked up through her bangs to admire the glittering gowns and people in them. How delightfully fancy! For a quick, wistful moment, she allowed herself to be just the teensiest bit envious, biting her lip in slight dismay. But then she reminded herself that at least she was here wasn’t she, and wasn’t that exciting and lovely, and the moment passed. Rosie scooped up a tray of tartlets and took a stern moment to walk herself through what they were. It was an exercise she had to go through a thousand times a day – repetitive, redundant, time-consuming, but she liked her job and didn’t want to lose it (as she had so many others). And part of the job meant not forgetting what she was serving.

She did a quick scan, looking for someone with their hands empty who didn’t seem to be otherwise engaged, and danced cheerfully in their direction, offering the tray with a cheerfully chirped, “Hor d'oeuvres?”

Vivian smiled gratefully at her hostesses before following Michael out into the large room, it's ceiling dazzling the crowd with glistening stars against a midnight sky. "Mmm," she chuckled, "I think you would be right, Mr. Styx," she said. "And I promise you I'll try my hardest to get you on your back, here anyways."

She grasped his arm a bit harder as she winked, "Maybe after I win I'll reward you for trying to beat me." She joked in a sarcastic tone, "But then again, that makes me sound a bit too self-confident. I guess we'll just have to see how this ends up."

"Good evening, thank you so much for coming," Joy said for, she supposed, the twentieth time. Everyone knew her, and she was used to this. Both in her job and day to day this was, well, normal. She'd even dressed the part of someone who was called attention to, a pure white, spare the dark hair that went freely down her back. Everyone who acknowledged her got a smile and everyone who greeted her got a, 'Good evening, thank you so much for coming.'

And this was just crossing the room.

Then, of course, there was the problem of what to do. She was past dancing, or careless drinking, and the only thing at the moment to do was talk. Joy paused, quickly glancing around the room, spotting no one she recognized but one of Zoe's professors standing by himself. Two smiles and nods later, Joy was beside him.

"Evening, Nightingale," Joy said, but instead of following it with, 'Thank you so much for coming.' continued, "Merlin, I haven't seen the fifth floor this busy in years, if ever." She settled near the wall beside him, letting the muscles of her face relax a little. Even just as she had approached him she had noticed some social cues, him being near an exit, alone. "A bit overwhelming, isn't it?"

Sam was pissed. Not drunk, not yet anyway. But the regular kind of pissed. He was in a pair of plain, off the rack dress robes. Underneath he wore the usual long sleeved button up and slacks, but the fact that he had to wear dress robes over his go to outfit made him pissed. The old wizard could count the amount of times he'd worn dress robes on one hand, and the fact that he was now out of fingers on that hand made his teeth grate. He was pretty sure the last time he climbed into a pair of the things he was getting awarded an Order of Merlin 1st Class.

He tried his best to relax. In the hallway leading up to the Gala he'd taken a few swigs of rum from a flask that was in the back pocket of his pants. The spicy liquor had warmed him up and took the edge off of everything. He had given Bethan the directions to Gala, not that she needed them since they appeared in all the newspapers as of late. He hoped he wasn't going to be stood up. He didn't blame her if she didn't show though, the whole thing had seemed to rub her a little the wrong way when he'd first told her about it. He hadn't made it any better by agreeing with her sentiments.

He shrugged to no one and took another pull of the rum. He winced and shook his head, he knew he needed to slow down or he'd have a killer hang over the next day from the sweet dark beverage. As it was he was already nursing a hang over from the night before. 

Tonight was one of those nights that Jasper always found came with some mixed emotions.  There was part of him that enjoyed the life among the elite members of wealthy wizarding society, but it was an act.  He was merely doing what he was expected to do in order to keep up appearances and not further tarnish the family name.  So, tonight was another night in stuff formal dress robes, plastering a smile on his face and turning on the charm.

There was the matter of the silent auction that had intrigued him.  Perhaps the evening would not be a complete bore as there was the possibility of a date with some mystery woman.  It was no doubt Dolly's handy work, and he was rather interested to see the results.  It helped of course that the money raised would be helping the hospital.

He surveyed the room a bit, noting his estranged cousin had decided to make an appearance.  He had been vaguely aware of her at Hogwarts and could not remember a time since his graduation that he spent any time in the same room as Moira.  Adam Randall, he father, had ensured that she be basically cut off from pureblood society.  Aside from seeing her name in the papers on occasion he knew nothing of her and tonight would not change that.

Noticing Liadán he approached, offering her a polite smile and said, "Everything looks lovely this evening.  I understand you were behind a great deal of the planning.  You should be commended for your hard work."

Dolly's slightly bemused smile ticked at the corners of her lips, watching Liadán interact with Styx and Callen. The curl of distaste on the blonde's lip would have been imperceptible to someone who did not know what they were looking for - but Dolly knew because she'd been privy to that particular sneer from Ó Móráin herself before they'd called a truce of sorts and gone about becoming friends. It was so hard for a leopard to change its spots, but she had to grant Lia marks for genuinely trying. Things really had turned out beautifully, falling into place at just the right moment (as they always did when two witches of means combined their talents). "I very much look forward to seeing you both duel," she offered before the pair wandered off and there was someone else to greet, "Miss Avendale, how lovely to see you," Dolly had an excellent memory for faces and she'd made sure to double check any RSVP'd names on the list. Nikari was young, but she was also bidding tonight which meant money for the cause which meant knowing her name.

"If you'll both excuse me, Lia darling, you can handle the greetings on your own for a few moments yes? I see one of my auction block acquisitions looking sulky," she gave the pair of blondes a wink before slipping away from them and moving toward Gale, of course before she could make it Joy had made herself at home and seemed content to keep him company. Whisking two glasses of champagne from a silver tray she scanned the room for anyone else that might be in need of attention. That was her job tonight after all, to facilitate the artifice that everyone was having a splendid evening, even if she couldn't make sure they were actually having any fun. With Gale squared away she simply wiggled her little finger at him as she went to check the hall for any discontented stragglers - oh and wasn't she in luck when she got there!

"Mr. Roth how delightful to see you," her voice poured out sweet like honey in the direction of the very dower faced Obliviator. She wasn't on a first name basis with the man, but she was well aware of who he was...mostly because it was her job to be aware of who people of note in Wizarding society were; also she happened to have a soft spot for the grizzled grumpy elder statesmen. She fully blamed this on Knox Greyfriar, an old family relation known simply as Uncle, whom she adored endlessly even if he was a Werewolf now. Isambard Roth, was, in her estimation, a more gritty version of her favorite relative and far more interesting than anyone she'd have said hello to had she stayed by Liadán's side. "I've found myself with two drinks, and this one is less likely to make you hate yourself so completely in the morning," she gave Roth a wry smile as she handed over one of the flutes, "Now as your hostess for the evening I demand to know why you're hiding out here when there are lovely ladies just inside wearing scandalously tight dresses and needing attention"?