Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask comes in, leading a much smaller woman wearing a Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask, the pair making a display in gold and red. His hand reaches for hers and he says towards her, "And here we are, your first Velenosan event, I believe?"

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood escorts another figure, fine in steel-bright and rich blue roses. The death's head is taking cares to be the most courteous. Sourcing drinks before leading their company toward one of the tables. "You outshine me, Roses. As you ought. Sparkling wine or firey red? I take a glass of each."

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask's ballgown covers everything but conceals nothing. Her limbs and the barely shadowed body beneath silk netting and aeterna has been rubbed with a cream of crushed pearls, to create a pale and opalescent gleam, making polished marble or fresh porcelain of her naked body. She remains supple in spite of that cool impression and glides inside gracefully, feet bare, hands open, green eyes gleaming like a cat in the shadows behind her mask. The doll arrives alone but isn't inclined to solitude amidst the throng-- she inclines her head to those nearest while clearing the way for new arrivals.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite arrives accompanied by a rather serpentine woman wearing a mask of sharpened scales. The former is clad all in dark, save for the occasional flash of aeterna. "I do wonder if the reflections will join us in a dance." he remarks to his companion, the voice idly amused. "Let's find a place to watch the proceedings." he proposes, and leads the pair to the Immorality Couch. Oh my.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Sir Floppington, the soulful hound arrives, following Rowenova.

Already in, already sitting, she of the silken garden mask is sitting at one of the couches and watching the masks and revelers filtering in, mingling and drinking. A glass of wine at hand, she's content to remain there, hand on cane and tapping fingers across the top of it in time to any music.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask promptly accepts the hand offered, head tilting to look up at the masked man with her. "It is, yes," she says. Her gaze goes to the room, and then back over to the cardinal. "I am quite looking forward to it."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," she replies to her silvery moon-faced companion. Flicking a curl over her shoulder, she leads him deeper into the room. "Shall we pay our respects first, or do you wish to find somewhere to sit, or perhaps a dance to whet the appetite?" Giving him choices, the mirror masked woman turns an inviting smile towards her companion.

A reindeer arrives in a linen blouse and kid leather leggings covered in vines. She peeks over the pary and seems a little skittish, especially when noticing all the wolves and stuff! She coltishly trots further into the room, looking for a place to graze.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask settles near a patch of wall she seems to have claimed as her own. Her shoulders are faintly hunched, and even through her--distinctly plain--clothes her tension is easily visible, practically radiating. This does not seem like someone prepared for enjoyment, and yet she's here all the same.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face sits upon the Grand Duchess' throne, dressed in an outfit of combined aeterna and umbra pieces. She sits alone, her golden curls loosely falling around her shoulders and down her back. Pale blue eyes watch the party from behind the mask as a vividly colored tarantula crawls up the length of a gloves hand.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon enters in a swirl of blackest jet, an umbra gown spangled by silvery beads to resemble the night sky. The wearer looks around, blue eyes behind the silver mask taking in the colors of costumes with a curious tip of her head. She finds a glass of something to drink, holding it as she considers where to sit, and then moves toward one of the couches.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses walks beside her escort, her hand settled on one of his arm, the roses of her mask and those that are painted on her body as blue as the eyes that look out form within. "Roses?" a soft chuckle."You flatter me. The red would do nicely." said to her escort as he secure drinks, glancing around at those around them as if to try and decide who she might know or not.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing white dragon mask might look somewhat out of place, dressed as a beautiful white dragon, the sleeves of her gown like wings and the breastplate of her armor a shiny steel corset that nips in at the waist and gives her a decidedly feminine look if a martial one. She moves with grace, like a dancer or a fighter, though she seems unarmed.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers arrives without any accompaniment whatsoever, floating through the doors of the ballroom in a flowing gown of ombre silk reminiscent of the depths of the ocean. She glances about, gaze moving here and there as she pauses to study the grand chamber and the glittering array of people within it. Eventually, she moves on out of the way so that others may arrive behind her, and she makes her way deeper into the ballroom, searching out a good vantage point.

3 Armed Confessors, 2 House Velenosa Guards arrive, following Alistair.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask smiles towards Phoenix and says, "Just .... expect the unexpected." He grins. He asks, "Anything in particular that you want to see, or go visit?" He looks around at the various people, having the height advantage.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask follows her partner into the ballroom, head tilting slightly as she listens to him. Her mouth quirks at the corners in amusement, "perhaps they will. Maybe they have other things to do. I suppose only time will tell, hm?" She follows him towards the seating, allowing her gaze to travel across the room as they settle, "I always love when this room is filled with people enjoying themselves."

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood murmurs, with a touch of amusement to their tone of voice: "Red for the roses, white for the bleached bones." T

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask peeks over to the duchess' throne and gives an awkward rather coltish like curtsy in her direction.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers has joined the Inviting Couches.

It is a dead giveaway who Scout Rowenova is as she shows up with all the obvious curiosity as well as a Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves which she soon dons after showing up. A soulful hound with ghostly linen over his facial features (and a couple holes big enough for his soulful eyes which peek through) is striding along beside her.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses chuckles as she takes the glass, sipping from it lightly and squeezing his arm. "So is that to be it then? Bones tonight?"

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask sighs to her companion on the Scandal couches where she's been lounging. "I still think she should have let me sit on the throne."

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask looks to his mirrored companion with a smile, saying to her, "The Dutchess will probably be too busy to really entertain us little people. Lets find a place to sit that isn't too noisy," says the man back to his female partner in crime, giving the arm she has hooked into his a little squeeze. "Or, we could start dancing. You much of a dancer?"

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask nods her head, a smile visible, though perhaps the only part of her face that is. The Phoenix is dresssed to match the mask, bejewelled and gowned. "I shall do so, as much as I can. Shall we find something to drink and compliment everyone on their masks and outfits?"

Alistair Velenosa is a terrible Lenosian. His wife is likely going to kill him for the scandal of showing up at a Masquerade without a mask. And without a costume! Armor!? Is Armor a costume? Well... perhaps for some people, but the man does not wear the Rubicund armor like it is such. He seems slightly agitated, his eyes sweeping the crowd before he turns to the various Lenosian guards that are about the Ballroom. He murmurs with them quietly. Perhaps he is here to arrest someone. Would be rather hard to find someone specific with all these masks...

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask steps into the ballroom with all of the grace and entitlement of someone who might as well own the entirety of the space around her. The horns of her mask curl up and back in dramatic arcs, the lush fullness of her feathered skirts carving out space for her. Except for her escort, who seems to have been given the honor of closeness. Her hand is set on the arm of a gold-scarred beast, and she leans in to murmur to him in a lower voice as they step inside.

Someone wearing a mask of sentinel nods her head to various masked individuals on her path between the door and the refreshments, finding herself something to drink. Somewhere to stand would be nice as well. The mask and garb may be stern and forboding, but perhaps that's the memento mori of the lyceum - eat and drink but remember that someone is always watching.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite chuckles, but not a hint of a smile can be seen. The mask covers everything, even his hair. "Yes, it is fun... right up until the caltrops are thrown in. Though I must admit enjoyment even then." He glances towards the throne, inclining his head slightly to the blonde figure wearing the diamond-studded stygian mask seated there. And then glances back when Alistair comes in, without mask. And armor. And he laughs. "I see even Alistair is getting into the spirit of things." He waves towards the High Inquisitor.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask drifts in with the crowd, an olive-skinned figure with raven-dark hair cascading down her back, her dress a simple gown of matte white hugging every delicate curve between her collarbones and the floor, the dress entirely unembellished. A man almost entirely in black, accompanies her, her slender fingers caught in his elbow. The only pop of color between them is the purple patterning upon his mask. And their vivid green eyes, hers stoic, his a touch more wild. Quietly, she murmurs, "Easy to lose oneself, if one were so inclined," to her shorter companion. "The wine will help, mm?"

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood nods, and the chin of the mask lifts once - flashing white-gold teeth. "Yes, it is. Might make it a bit easier and keep up with the fun." The skull leans in to rasp, "So many fantastic creatures in attendance."

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask drapes his arm along the back of the Scandal couch behind his companion, responding with a laugh. "I think you'd be just as possessive if you had a throne," he remarks in amused reply as he glances around at others in the large ballroom.

Ugarte arrives, following Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask chuckles, "Of course." He moves to let Phoenix choose a path, remaining close to her, although he does notice where the drinks are, motioning in that direction, "Everyone always dresses wonderfully." He pauses, noticing Alistair and says, "Well, most people." He doesn't seem anything but amused, though.

Someone wearing a pirate mask arrives without a companion this evening, entering the ballroom to survey the room before he begins a slow circuit about the place. He stops a server, confiscating a glass of red wine and proceeds back on his route. It's a path that takes him to some of the couches and with any real knowledge of the other guests... he just up and joins one of them.

A pigeon almost too fat to fly arrives, following Jhond.

A pigeon almost too fat to fly leaves, following Jhond.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask makes her way in quietly and looks around before choosing a spot at seemingly random. She crsosses the room toward a couch and drops onto it, otherwise she seems to be in her own world. She doesn't make a big effort to spot anyone, just finds a place to set herself.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Ugarte have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

The ebon fox has arrived to the ball, having been looking for a while to find it. Once he has he walks to a seat to settle in and relax, a cloak in some black tones used to keep him and parts the mask doesn't cover covered.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask lifts red lips in a smile. "Can I have one? A throne? Not /now/ I mean, but...sometime?" She teases her companion. "I'd look good on it. Maybe not as good as she does, but good."

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask drifts in on a cloud of dark skirts, blue eyes behind her mask taking in the ballroom is clear curiosity. She darts and dodges through the crowd, with a gentle sway of her hips to keep her wide skirts from colliding with other partygoers. As if in concession to the occasion, she wears a hand mirror in a case attached to a sash about her waist. It looks very old.

The guards motion to various peoples, primarily the throne, and Alistair gives a nod before he is pushing through the crowds of people. He tries to be oh so pleasant and accomodating for the masquerade. But he stands out so painfully with that heavy armor. Stepping towards the throne of the Grand Duchess he takes a knee by its side and whispers with its lone occupant.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers finds a place to sit among the comfortable couches, tucking her legs just to the side, crossed demurely at the ankles beneath the length of deep blue and greens skirts. She folds her hands idly in her lap, the long, flowing sleeves of sheer silk draping down over her arms and then settling about her. She continues to glance around, merely people watching for the time being, studying the array of masked figures moving about the ballroom. Her lips curve into a soft, wistful smile at the sight of it all.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves actually seems to have come prepared, pulling out a turkey feather from her weapons belt. Said feather is quite clean as well as fully cored to be a drinking straw. She deftly pops it under her mask's muzzle into her waiting mouth before picking up a passing drink from a server's tray, doing so with rumbled thanks around the feather straw before ultimately employing it to sip up the alcoholic contents of her newly-acquired glass.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask remains hunched against the wall, but she at least appears to be watching the door. Maybe. The mask makes it difficult to entirely tell exactly where she's looking. Occasionally the head turns, perhaps regarding those already here.

The gold-scarred beast at the Horned Goddess's side is a staunch, black-clad defender of the sacrilegious beauty--if only by the fierce appearance they give off, momentarily broken by the murmured words. A glance toward the throne is given, bright eyes through the slots of the mask, and then a nod. With each step, the tall and imposing escort sweeps the room for a suitable space. Preferable near a drink.

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask grins at her silver moon companion and offers, "Lets sit for a bit, chat, and I think there's going to be like.. a thing? that gets done. Then we can dance!" She begins to lead him towards the Immorality Couch and the pair seated there. "its been a few years since I've attended one of these. I feel like its my first time all over againa nd I want to race around and do -everything-!"

A slight wisp of a man arrives in dark clothing threaded with red, with a great raven's beak attached to his head. He threads through the crowds, the beak preceding him and threatening to smack anyone even remotely in his way. Little bird here to nest in atmosphere.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses tips her head a little towards the skull beside her, easier to hear the softer words before nodding, dimples flashing under the half mask. "There are.. everyone has gone above and beyond it seems in their creations. It will be fun to see how many we can figure out."

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask glances the way cardinal gestures, catching sight of the one person? not wearing a mask and smiles. She sweeps a curtsey to the throne, and then heads towards the bar, pausing there to see what might be on offer for drinks. "The red I do think," she decides. Well it will match her outfit, at the very least. "That is entirely true, about how everyone dresses. The masks are fantastical and beautifully done."

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

The Soulful Hound in his ghostly linens sits down next to Someone wearing a Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves. His human compatriot is absolutely kind and deftly plucks a mead from a tray and pours it out into a food bowl. She holds the beverage down for the dog to lap up, which he does.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask arrives, following Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask gives his companion a sidelong glance. "No doubt you would. And we can probably manage one for you eventually. You might have to practice some patience, though," he teases her back, that amused tone lingering in his voice.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask sighs softly. "Too many wolves." She says while heading toward the dance floor with her nimble grace.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask keeps pace well with the white fox despite their difference in height, as she guides him by the elbow. Tending toward longer strides with a natural kind of grace that proves less awkward than taking a step and a fraction for each of her own. The wildness of his own green eyes search the room, flitting from mask to mask as he takes it all in. The smile on his face is slight, but the parted state of his lops express awe. He nods, in that slow awe struck manner to her comment. And as to her question, answers, "When does it now?"

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask arranges herself in partial recline, legs extended to the side with a demure cross securing one ankle over the other. She holds no wine, carries no flute of spirits-- and would find it impossible to drink if she did-- so satisfaction comes of observing the crowd. Horned Goddess is tracked, and the gold-scarred beast honoured with her escort, before her head turns to incline ear to her couchmate.

Alistair has joined the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask walks to the winter vixen table as he looks to the others, "Other foxes," he muses, while he takes a drink of some wine he's picked up, after his attendant in a mask takes a drink as well first then hands that to him.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face eyes Alistair with a little smile on her face as he approaches. She smoothly switches Oleander from one hand to another, upon which the tarantula instantly scampers up the length of her arm to hide in the length of her hair. She leans in to listen to his whispered words, her brows lifting in curiosity.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta remarks, general and brisk, "Everyone wants to be a predator. Rather be a scavenger than the scavenged. Rather be on top than being devoured. Can't blame anyone for that. Pursue rather than skitter. Slay rather than die." He skirts along the edges of the ballroom, undecided.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask takes graceful steps into the ballroom with a swish of green-and-blue silken skirts. Aquamarines glitter in the light, suspended from the glinting gold of her elegant earrings and lovely pendant -- the work of Joscelin Arterius, for those who have an eye for these things. She's a slender figure, slight, and every turn of her body carries a faint tension that runs along her spine despite the smooth glide of her carriage. Taking up a glass of wine, sipping at it gently, she finds a place to from which to observe in relative quiet. Her bright cobalt gaze moves from here to there behind her pretty mask as she fusses fingers through her strawberry-blonde hair, which is pinned up into a pretty tumble of silky curls.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask remarks, out loud, though probably lost in the din of the room, "Actually I stole this mask. I take no responsibility for my mask or how many others like it there are. Perhaps we should have a competition for whom is best wolf." She folds one hand over the other and sets them both on her knee. There is no indication that she intends to move or engage in any such frivolity at the moment.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask turns her attention towards Alistair, head tilting ever so slightly, "have you looked in your wardrobe? Black everywhere. You are not one to speak." Mmmhmmm. Then her attention turns towards the throne, and she gives the woman seated there a dip of her head as well as a wiggle of fingers. "Are we going to dance, or are you going to hold out for a visiting reflection? A visiting reflection with promises of caltrops hopping?"

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask also gets a glass of red wine and says, "Indeed. Let's find a seat, then?" He smiles and motions to the various places to seat, letting her decide.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves and the Ghostly Hound move with their alcoholic beverages to pick out a shady spot from whence they watch the ongoing festivities whilst also drinking their respective beverages.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask looks to Raven as the Avian speaks and seems all thoughtful for a moment. "I wouldn't really agree with that." She says while starting a frolic-like dance wit herself. She doesn't know how to dance, that much is clear. The reindeer speaks in a Shav accent. "Better to not devour and live more peacefully." She seems to be keeping an eye on the wolves!

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood speaks aloud to the raven as he passes in a scratchy rasp, "The mental image and the stark reality. The skitter and skulk of the lowly creatures still provides a marvelous point of view."

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask stands up from the Scandal couches lazily, and walks towards the Grand Duchess' Throne if only to signal to the crowd that she's going to address them. "Good evening, and on behalf of the Grand Duchess and House Velenosa..." She turns to Eleyna and dips her head respectfully. "I welcome all of you to the Masquerade for the Eclipse of Mirrors! There will be wine and music and wine in the Lycene tradition...but first in that tradition we must pause to welcome The Thirteenth, whom this event is in honor of. On /his/ behalf we'll examine our passions tonight. Thoroughly." Her frame aims towards the entrance expectantly, and anyone close can see deep reverence in the green eyes flashing behind the mask.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask wanders over to the refreshments and selects a glass of red wine. "Whenever I am here," she murmurs, "and look to all these couches I feel as if the pressure is on me to choose my favourite sin. Then I get quite overwhelmed and remain standing."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta looks to reindeer, his eyes a light glint behind the shadow of the mask. "Peace is a fine concept, but how to make others respect it! You can't ask the ravens to eat grass, they won't. You can't ask the wolves to eat cake. They won't. Is peace possible, deer? Or is it a hazy dream that blunts us to reality?" The eye-glint slips to the skull. "A lowly creature is all most of us can be. May as well embrace it."

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask continues her graceless frolicking dance. She is all limbs and looks like she might trip! "The skeleton said it better than me, but he is right."

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves says, "I like cake."

A few more murmured words, a curving smile of amusement, and the Horned Goddess and her gold-scarred escort are making their way through the crowd to select a table to join. The Goddess plucks a glass of red wine from a passing attendant, her red lips curved with humor.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask breathes a quiet laugh for that retort from her checker-masked companion. "Toward the end of the evening, usually. When one needs to find one's way home." With an impish grin below her vulpine mask, she concedes, "Though that mightn't always be the case." She finds herself some wine, snagging a glass first for her escort and then for herself, something lush and red to contrast her stark white attire, to risk ruination among such a crowd as this. All snow and perfection, she drifts toward the comfort of the shadows while she watches the crowd, a couple others catching her curiosity, hints of familiarity beneath masks, and more superficial commonality in the masks themselves. Though distance might separate them, she lifts her drink toward the bearded man in the ebon fox mask, a toast to finding someone of kind among the crowd.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask glances about, catching sight of a soulful hound and chuckling softly in that direction. She doesn't speak to the scout quite yet, not wanting to give things away just yet. "Perhaps there?" she says, pointing towards the decadent couches. She glances up at the cardinal and then pauses as there's an announcement. She leans a bit towards her companion, stepping closer at the words spoken by red copper and leather half mask.

Someone wearing white dragon mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask enters the ballroom and pauses in her steps, surprised by the number of people already present. Elegantly, she slips into the crowd effortlessly, weaving her way through until she finds what she is looking for; a place to observe the parade of masked people while she gets her bearings.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask's large brown eyes widen as she looks toward the raven with this thoughtful and pensive expression. "Well some wolves do like cake." She says, likely hearing the white wolf's words. "Who is to say who is high and who is low?" She says, speaking with her heavy accent. She is likely some kind of prodigal.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite looks on as the sofa is approached by the Stygian Columbina-wearing woman and her Silver Moon companion. He nods to the pair, the movement causing the dark and light of the mask to shift and move, following their own dance far from the floor. "Black is the most suitable colour. One can wear it for weddings, funerals, various gatherings." he answers instead his Sharpened Scales companion. "I may yet be convinced to dance, my dearest impatient. But I thought I'd wait to see what might occur in this early part of the evening. After, perhaps." A chuckle is heard, as he adds. "Besides, what's a reflection when one has you?" And then his attention shifts once more to their fellows. "Tehom is in attendance tonight, have you not heard? Perhaps you'll see soon, mm?" he tells the Stygian Columbina.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask walks into the masquerade with the shadowy moon in tow. When people look expectantly toward the entrance he glances around, then carefully leads the moon to the side, lest they block Tehom's entry. Looking over the couches he says to his companion, "Where is the misappropriation of funds couch? Well, choose a seat and I will fetch you some wine."

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask tries to speak toward the reindeer, "Show me a wolf that does not like cake and I will show you a wolf who has just got a second serving." She adjusts her mask and watches the Reindeer with an unreadable expression. . .because she's wearing a mask. Also her words are muffled so it is hard to really get inflection from them.

Back in a shadowy corner, someone wearing a wolf mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves giggles gleefully after the Reindeer's words. She does not really do much, though, except chill out with one hand bringing up her cup whilst her other hand holds out the mead bowl for the ghost-masked hound. Definitely noticing the Fiery Phoenix looking over here. She up nods to her, but does not seem to know exactly who it is yet. Or, does she?!

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask nods and says, "That sounds good." He pauses at the announcement, his head cocked slightly as he listens before he slips an arm around the smaller woman, guiding her onward towards the couch in question.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers has settled herself into this oh-so-inviting couches, where quiet conversation has commenced among masked strangers. Somehow she has managed to snag herself a glass of wine, and seems totally relaxed and not nervous at all. She does glance briefly toward the throne, where Alistair had gone to whisper with the Archduchess, dressed in his armor, rather than proper ball attire and a mask. Her gaze eventually returns to the conversation among the couches however, her words lost in the swirl of sound and people.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask swivels his head as he looks out at that sea of masked faces. Fish out of water would be an understatement. He's been plucked from his pond and introduced to a lake - and now, a surreal suspended bubble above said lake, where the quality of light upon the exterior distorts the image. And he has deemed it to be exciting. Awe replaced in the part of his lips by a bright smile. He follows suit, taking a glass of red as the white fox does and keeping to her pace until they've reached that shadowy alcove. "It's like where dreams gather and compare designs," he remarks. But he leans in for quieter remarks.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta shakes his mane of feathers. "I am low and I am hungry. I smell blood in the air and blood in myself. And I despise cake, deer. I search for something to devour." With that, the bird, expansive, dramatic, drifts toward the table.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has joined the Libertine Table.

With an announcement made, the Scandalous Doll doesn't bestir herself to rise but she does sit a little straighter against the arm of her chosen couch. Interest gleams behind the bone-pale of her mask and one pearl-white hand rests against the couch's arm, to help support her as she looks towards the doors.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask nods to those already at the couches as they arrive. She keeps looking towards the door, since it seems there is an incoming arrival. And so there are, several. Many. Which means that her attention goes back to her companion, and those at the couches, she's now seated at. And also her drink.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is adorned in a pale linen blouse and kid leather leggings. While finely crafted the fabrics are inexpensive. She then turns to the other white wolf, her brown eyes still deer-wide. "Two white wolves. It is like a winter wolf pack. If you dance near me I might dance away, even with you liking cake." She declares, but there is a touch of teasing to her tone. She then looks to the Raven. "Be careful. Some blonde is poison, Raven."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out makes their yearly appearance in public at a Masquerade and this lucky event seems to be the one for this year.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Entering as foretold by the copper and leather masked individual, Tehom moves in his robes amongst the masses, the alien visage which he wears for the evening positioned in one direction and the next. Each step is further announced by the rattle and clatter of steel sollerets in blackened steel. Hands clad in plate and rivets hang at his sides, until one lifts, gesturing toward the throne and assembly around the Archduchess, perhaps recognition for the invite. When he's about halfway through the ballroom, he stops in its middle, and rotates upon the spot as he calls out: "Tonight, you may all indulge yourselves of your wants in my name. I shall choose my Favoured before the night is through, and whatever you do, only look to the mirrors if you're prepared for what lies within them and what they may like to show lies within you."

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask looks to Tehom and she freezes like fawn in the woodland, her dance now fully stopped and her lips pout slightly open.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask folds her arms tightly over her chest, and if anything, her shoulders hunch more. There's a faint mutter from behind the mask, but it's far too quiet to interpret.

Someone wearing Silk and Steel Lycene Jester Mask pauses as he arrives, and drops into a low sweeping bow to the actor playing the Thirteenth, staying with head bowed until the actor finishes speaking. He then moves with a slow, unconsciously predatory prowl towards the Grand Duchess Throne and bows once more, "Your grace."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask looks at his mirror pendant in thought, and next to the Tehom which walks through the place. He seems thoughtful a moment, as he pulls his cloak to him while he takes the whole masque into his consideration.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta raises his head toward Tehom. "To blood and nightmare, to vice and terror we choose to own rather than flee."

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask turns from greeting the man she is currently sharing a couch with to look up and towards the visage of Tehom. Eyes behind the mask open wide in wonder and a deep breath of awe is taken, held within her chest for a moment before she allows it to escape in a soft sigh.

As Tehom enters the room and speaks, the candles in the ballroom seem to dim, casting shadows where they did not exist prior. Even some shadows that can't possibly exist suddenly seem to appear here and there. The lights brighten once more, yet some of those odd shadows still remain...

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars sets down his drink for a moment and observes the pronouncement of Tehom and then the sudden, wasting shadows which fill the room. His eyes narrow slightly and, as though loathed to react, lifts his glass for a sip. He tries to focus back on the table's guests.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask gasps softly as the light seems to dim and the shadows seem to expand. "Oh." she says more of an outrush of sound than a word. She lifts a foot and wiggles it and if slowly coming out of her stillness, one tiny foot at a time.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the Ballroom Floor.

When Tehom himself arrives, the eye cannot help but be drawn to him, and the woman in the fish-scale mask turns her eyes in that direction, her gaze drawn there by the sound of his voice as he addresses the ballroom guests. She studies the figure discreetly, lifting her glass for a slow sip of the wine as she observes the visage and its wearer. As the lights dim, her eyes glance around the ballroom briefly, then her eyes shift to the shadows that shouldn't seem to be there. A little shiver runs through her, and she murmurs, "Such dazzling effects."

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask murmurs, "Oh, /bravo/," for Tehom's entrance. Now she'll rise, now she'll take to her feet and pay obeisance to the Thirteenth. When the deity's rotation sweeps his regard over her section of couches, she arrays herself with gauzy skirts plucked out to her sides and body sinking-- with broken doll stylings-- into a curtsy. "To the mirrors then," says she as she draws straight again, head tilting and mask's eyes turning towards the nearest candelabra.

The Archduchess offers a bow of her head to the man in the Lycene Jester's mask and murmurs a few polite words.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask turns about with a swish of her full skirts, glancing at the odd shadows here and there, her expression bright even behind the mask. "Now is time for the creatures of the nights," she murmurs throatily, with a little breath of laughter in there, and inclines her toward Tehom.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask arrives not in finery, but in lustrous black leather, tight and sleek on her form. Her dress marks her as some sort of rogue or brigand. Is it customary for bandits to also arrive fashionably late? In any case, she is evidently very much into the mood of the evening, robbing at least one attendant at knifepoint along her way, though she demands only a beverage off his tray in loot. With this in store, she sashays on with a smile, though Tehom's arrival causes a pointed pause. "Oh, we're allowed to indulge ourselves!" But she does give a slightly spooked look around at the lighting effect.

The white wolf with the cleaved malachite over her niveous visage looks up from the ghostly hound who fully finishes his mead bowl before she sets aside their empty containers where the serving staff can easily acquire those. Then, she opens up her map case and puts away her feather straw before pulling out a black feather which ultimately proves to be a crow quill. She pulls out a single sheet of beige paper which is somewhat curled from having been inside a cylindrical case, and then she pulls out an interesting well of red ink, too. All these writing supplies are set out before her on her immediate table. She soon inks up, too.

When the shadows dim, one of the few wearing a silvery moon mask in the room looks around and laughs. "I shall disappear entirely," she calls out, clad as she is in an umbra gown. "Shine brighter, my fellow moons and sun," she tells those nearby, lifting a glass in a toast. "To the mirrors," she echoes the porcelain doll, and takes a draught from the sparkling flute.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask offers Tehom a theatrical curtsy, holding it longer than that expected for any mortal royalty. "We are truly blessed by Your presence." She replies to the masked God, with enough honeyed reverence in her tone that the capital 'Y' is palpable. She steps away from the Grand Duchess' throne after attempting to catch her eye and offer a wry smile, though the sudden deepening of shadows might change that expression. If the shadows allowed it to be studied. Eventually she plucks two drinks from a passing tray and returns to the Scandal couches, crossing long legs under crimson and ebony skirts.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask laughs and calls out to the crescent moon, "I am radiant!"

Since it is all about doing what we want to do, the ghost-clad hound hops up onto the nearby chair and sits down, directly adjacent to his hooman friend who is writing away with her red ink on beige paper with her crow quill.

"Not too brightly, I hope," the lady in the bat mask calls toward the sun. "Lest those of us who shrink from the light be tempted to flee."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask looks at his drink a moment, then he places that to the side while he writes some notes on his parchment. Then he walks to the ballroom dance floor while he offers up a toast with his hand although he has no drink, "To the Thirteenth, might his Reflection Guide us through life with knowing the duality of nature within us," he offers up to respect. He then takes that pendant he wears to twirl it about. He has seen his reflection in the past, and it seems that such an evening as this, he seems to be thoughtful if anything.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out grabs a drink from a passing tray and brings it to the front of the bucket wear a mouth may approximately be to press it against it with no affect but doesn't seem bothered by it. Instead, they made their way towards the mirrors to take a peek.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Tehom addresses the Winesome Reindeer as he remains stood within the heart of the ballroom floor, the adjustments of the light causing no reaction to he, as he instead invokes a query, "Do you dance alone? You should never be alone, and especially not on this night of the blood red moon, when shadows play. If you have no partner, they may wish to join you. Come," he says, "I shall shield you for a moment. But only a moment." Then, a hand is extending, unfurled with clawed fingertips in offer of a dance.

Alistair pushes up from his knee, having finished speaking with the Archduchess and giving a proper bow of his head as he steps away. No one is dragged away, though the High Inquisitor lingers in his armored form... keeping a rather close eye on the crowd. And those damned mirrors. Far to many mirrors. Why did he marry a Princess of Velenosa...

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask nods slowly towards her stygian and iridescite Mirrormask company, "it is helpful if the various gathering turns into both a wedding and a funeral. Why waste all the guests time with two different things to attend. And I am not impatient, just curious, which is a completely different set of attributes." She watches as Tehom does what Tehom does, pausing in conversation for a moment as the white marble of the ballroom darken to a matte finish before brightening once more. Her attention shifts once more to those near, speaking more quietly.

Someone wearing Silk and Steel Lycene Jester Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing wooden cat mask arrives somewhat later than intended and deftly merges with the crowd already gathered and drifts around the room, lifting a glass of something honey colored from a tray that is carried by a server through the crowd. A tiny sip is taken while she surveys the artistic attire and masks on display.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask looks around a bit in thought, then to some of the folk standing about as he shifts his cloak to him, "Would anyone like a dance?" he asks, beneath the hood as well as the mask in thought, seeming to take in those that are there.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves seems perfectly happy to pluck up passing booze from server trays which she happily shares with the ghostly hound who is still seated on the adjacent chair. She keeps up her mysterious writings.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Alistair has left the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask sucks in a soft breath and then another as she lifts her gaze to Tehom. Her cheeks blanch pale and then warm with a petal pink hue. The winter deer's brown eyes are so very wide now and she looks down at her right foot as if only just now realizing she was still shaking such. She stomps such on the ground in a way that might seem a bit like a wild filly. "I always dance alone, but never danced on a red night, not ever." She murmurs before stepping toward the being. She seems curious and awe-struck. "My dance is wild and of the woodlands. I should warn." She says, before spinning in a circle right in front of him. It is clear she knows no noble dances. She lacks skill, but has a nimble energy.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask sets an empty glass down on a nearby empty tray passing by in the hands of a server, and reaches a hand to her companion, accepting the help offered to rise to her feet. "Yes, please. I should love to dance."

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has not yet taken her seat again. Instead she scans those seated, arrayed in conversation. Her focus turns to the Libertine Couch and after a moment of impassive contemplation of those seated there, she advances. Weaving through the crowd on her bare feet, shadows moving over pearled skin beneath gauze, she ends with a hand extended to the Horned Goddess. "I'll have a deity for partner for this first dance, or none at all," the doll intones.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask murmurs to the figure in the pale, featureless mask. "Lenosian Red. What else would do tonight?" She hands off a glass and the red lips beneath her mask lift in a half smile. "Take a sip and come dance with me. When He dances, so do we His reflections, hmm?" A slender hand reaches out to grasp his and drag him to the ballroom floor if she must. They weave through the crowd, past some of the tall mirrors, and she pauses to ponder her reflection on the way. Of course.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood echoes, hollowly, "Or none at all -- or none at all --"

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Alistair pauses at one of the mirrors, the reflective surface having caught his attention for a brief moment causing the High Inquisitor to stare at it. Do mirrors shatter when the High Inquisitor glowers at them? Do they suck out the prodigal's soul? Sadly nothing such happens, the man closing his eyes for a moment and shaking his head before he turns away.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask stands and moves to lead Phoenix towards the dance floor, a hand holding hers, and offers her a smile, "Shall we?"

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out moves to stand by Alastair and peek over his shoulder into the mirror, "That is truly a hideous mask you chose for the occasion. Well done."

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask remains against the wall, and far away from the mirrors. Or, at least, as far as one can get in this particular ballroom. The fingers of one hand twitch lightly against a crossed arm.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask turns from her company when the Porcelain Doll approaches and extends her hand. She looks down at it, and then up to the doll's face, and a slow, amused smile curls her lips. "As you should," she replies, lifting her chin. "But would I be a goddess if I assented to just any request? What offering have you brought to lay before me?" There's a warm, dark playfulness to her voice, glimpsed just so in her dark eyes behind her mask.

Harlen have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers remains seated where she is, sipping her wine, occasionally offering a comment to those seated near her. She has not yet looked into any of the mirrors, rather deliberately. Her eyes skirt past them too quickly perhaps, to even dare take a glance within their shining surfaces, at least not yet. She doesn't seem to have summoned the nerve yet. Her eyes do move here and there throughout the room though, focusing instead on the various masked people, the woman seated on the throne of the Archduchess, and of course, Tehom himself as he dances with a... reindeer? She blinks at that, then smiles in amusement.

The malachite-leafed wolf shouts aloud to the feather-faced wolf, "WANNA JOIN? ONLY WRITING!" She soon adds, You can also pet Ghost Dog, if you wished to."

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask smiles and twirls onto the dance floor with a smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. "If you leave it to me, you may find yourself danced off your feet."

Rohm the Blackguard, Avalanche, a Snow Shepherd arrive, following Caelis.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask inclines her head to they who wear the crudely made skull mask. Acknowledgement. And then, simply, to the Goddess she says, "Myself. One must only given everything, tonight."

'Ghost Dog' next to the malachite-leafed wolf happily wags his hound tail.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask takes the offered glass, and does a little more than sip, emptying the glass quickly. "You would know better than I," he responds to her a little flatly, though she does not actually have to drag him out to the dance floor. When they pass the tall mirrors, he glances at them as well, though his gaze does not linger as long as that of his companion. Once they get out to the dance floor, he begins to lead her through steps to match the music being played.

Someone wearing A mask of green silk lace wanders into the ball calmly, looking about idly and taking in the scene with a serene expression under mask.

Rohm the Blackguard have been dismissed.

Avalanche, a Snow Shepherd have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars eyes the approach of the scandalous porcelain Doll. Drink set aside, already gone. He settles back into his chair, a momentary glance to the shadows in the corners once more.

With no words, persisting in silence after his offer and even in the face of an acceptance and set expectations, Tehom wraps cold steel fingers around one of the winsome reindeer's and moves with steps that are unhurried and patient to begin. Setting the pace dampens any wild excitement of a free woodland spirit, but only for a few seconds, as the careful motions soon allow great range from the linked limbs. It's tethering his partner to a force that moves of its own violition. Words for the surrounding area are quieter, heard by those on the ballroom floor, but they fail to carry further with any clarity.

The Silken Garden remains on the decadent couch, salt and peppered hair up and hands tapping along to the music on the top of her cane as she sits and watches others dance. The smile on her face is wide and infectious.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask drums her fingers more quickly against her arm, head slightly bowed. She says nothing in response to the other wolf, but when a few moments pass she pushes off of the wall and heads in that direction. Her walk is stiff, as tense as the rest of her.

Duarte enters the ballroom. His gaze lifts from the floor to the room and he stops still. "Yes. Of course." He murmurs quietly to himself. "I forgot about that bit..." he tells Harlen.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

As the person in the featureless pale porcelain half-mask glances into the mirror, he sees a woman staring back at him, her lips curved into a secret smile. She winks as he passes by, yet, if he were to look again, she would be gone. Perhaps she was never there in the first place.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves, with the red ink (spelled out by her crow quill in her left hand onto a beige paper), lifts up her black pen and gracefully waves it to the newest arrival. "Greetings. Thank you for joining us." says she as she motions over toward 'Ghost Dog' who happily wags and noses out toward the new wolf.

Someone wearing wooden cat mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask freezes in front of the mirror, standing there shaking for several moments. Taking a deep gasp of air after the sudden pause, she watches her reflection and shudders before turning away, downing a deep gulp of red wine and then handing off the glass unfinished. Strange. "We should dance." She already said that, but she looks to him as if in desperation.

Someone wearing A mask of green silk lace looks about rather late to the party and looks to the couches. She swaggers over to her the scandal couch to sit and recline back, looking around idly and picking at her nails.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta wanders from the table toward the mirrors, his movements a bit jagged and abrupt, the ruff of his feathers lit copper shadow. He leans his arm across the top of the mirror and challenges it, the room, whoever may be listening. "What if you look in a mirror and see just yourself? What if that's all there ever was to see? Can a person just be their own reflection. Flat. Boring. Expected. Dark as a porcelin plate."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing A mask of green silk lace has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask seems to find no one to dance with, so he sighs with thoughtfulness as he places his hands to his pockets within the cloak. He then makes a shift of his form to dance towards the mirrors within his world, while he takes a peek at the mirror, while he looks to it, seeing if he will see his reflection once again, moving his form with the dance before the mirror in thought with a hum.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask's smile just widens slow and dark at the Porcelain Doll's reply. She tips her head just slightly to the steel beast with the mirror-gold scars when he leans in to murmur something to her, and a quiet hint of laughter escapes her. She considers the Doll for a moment or two more, as if weighing this offering, and then she says, "Acceptable. One can only really give everything to a god." She sets her wine aside and then reaches a hand to take the Doll's.

3 Fidante House Guards, Santino, Luciano, Lora arrive, following Calista.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask's breathing elevates. She looks to the being's concealed face with a curious sort of wonderment and maybe even a startled fawn-like wariness. Her gaze then lowers to the being's steel-like fingers upon her slender wrist. The wildness of her dance is tamed for the moment. The dance expands and so does the leggy deer, moving, stomping and not seeming to know actually how to dance at all. She listens to his words, her gaze thoughtful. White teeth press to her lower lip and it takes the reindeer several silent seconds to give her murmured answer and free her lip.

Many of the mirrors offer only reflections of the party-goes in their colorful masks, yet, when one looks closely, perhaps there are too many people in those mirrors than should be there. Sometimes, too few.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask draws up the goddess from her seat. Supplicant she might have been, but she's taken the lead so far in everything: the asking, the offering, their passage to the ballroom's great floor. "How else are we plain mortals to work our will upon the heavens, as they work theirs upon the earth?" she proposes as she turns to curl her arm around the other woman's waist, poised to whirl her in amongst the other dancers as the music's beat allows.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask steps in close to his dance partner when she repeats herself, leading the steps as he leans in to murmur something to her quietly. There is a stiffness to his movements, though he otherwise moves well.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

With the table-goers attending to the ballroom floor, the gold-scarred beast looks on with hints of fading envy. Alas, he looks back to his companion--the glass of whisky. From his resting place, he observes the mirrors. Curious, as they become an object of interest to others. He finds himself unable not to look a bit and then returns to the steady, silent measure of his cup.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask looks at the mirrors while the people in the ball move, and seems to be in thought as he offers a hand towards one of them, "No one else seems to wish for a dance, would you?" he asks, "I often don't have a partner when at these things," he offers. He shifts about a bit with a hum to him self.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta tap-taps the mirror with a long finger. "Hah, that's what I thought. No secrets in there. Always more folk than there should be, though, so many lost. And we're encouraged not to flit too much among 'em," he drifts. "Being lost is contageous. Don't get too close. Don't risk any old sympathy. It'll hollow you out."

Someone wearing A mask of green silk lace crosses one leg over the other and watches the dancers with a tilt of her dark head. She relaxes her hands in her lap and glances at the mirrors for long looks.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Duarte shrugs and overcomes his sense of being out of place for want of a mask and steps further in to disappear into the crowd.

As the gold-scarred beast lifts his whisky glass to his lips to drink, it is much emptier than it had been after the previous drink. In fact, there are only a few drops left. Puzzling.

They roll in three deep. Guards, retainers, etc. all wait just behind the door. Fidante's? or perhaps those with an affinity for roses. A swathe of black rose lace stretches across the front of the first woman's face, like a visor, though she's not really hiding her identity too much this evening. The burnt cinnamon hair, the dark shadowed emerald eyes, the luscious ruby lips give her away. And if it were not for those attributes, her Tehom-may-care smile surely does. She comes in arm in arm with another woman and a man. Life is good.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 40 higher.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask surrenders her half-tasted wine as she slips from the shadows, moving toward the man in the darker fox mask, her opposite, perhaps. She may well be answering his call, a reflection stepping out of the crowd, her snowy hues to his midnight dark. If that hand remains out for the taking, she takes it, telling her fellow fox directly, "I will dance with you."

A vaguely male shape swathed in black robes and gloves, wearing a purple spider mask with eight red-stained mirrors where eyes would be shuffles inside amongst the crowd. There's a faint musical jingling under their many robes.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom may care for Calista's smile. It has yet to be decided.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 19 higher.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors says, "Nnnggg... so many people."

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite leads his Sharpened Scales companion to the dance floor, though remaining on the fringe while it remains so crowded. There they begin to dance, close as to continue whatever private conversation that is theirs, the former ignoring the rest of the dancers. Indeed, his eyes remain on his companion... or the various mirrors that surround them, glancing into them every now and then. Whatever he might see, little can be discerned from his expression. It is, after all, entirely covered.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask rubs at his mouth beneath the mask, while he turns his attention towards the white fox, then he offers a nod to them, "Ah, sure then." He offers out his hand while he shifts towards the direction they are as he speaks to the one speaking about mirrors, "I just wish they weren't so lonely seeming," he admits, while he shifts his cloak about him and offers out a hand to the other fox.

Someone wearing a silken garden mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta stops, after a moment, clawing and leaning on the mirrors, and drifts to the Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars tongues his right canine tooth. His actual tooth, under those faux-fangs. He looks at his glass and narrows his eyes, slighted so, and is forced to move and wrangle a refill from a server. Maybe he's got a drinking problem.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask helpfully spins out Phoenix a number of times, giving a light laugh in the process. He's less paying attention to other conversations, and while he honestly is paying most of his attention to Phoenix, it's hard not to notice the mirrors.

Clattering glass beads and bone shards, the mask of fused twin skulls -- grinning twice as wide with white-gold teeth -- leads Roses toward the ballroom's dancefloor. "Catch a glimpse of yourself, Rose, pale and perfect and unblemished today. Tomorrow, worm food -- " the Skull's touch upon Rose's is ever so light, whirling her into the group of dancers.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask sweeps into the room just in time to hear the stygian raven's comment about reflections; her attention swivels to the speaker as she lets out a chill, amused laugh. "Oh, but so few people are truly boring. Everyone has at least a little... ah, /potential/ to be interesting, in one way or another. Perhaps that potential can be seen in reflections... perhaps not. And so few /act/ on the potential." This last is said in a tone of soft lament. "But it's almost always /there/."

Duarte has reappeared on the otherside of the ballroom, filtering out of the crowd, and addresses the Archduchess.

Tehom speaks louder and turns his head to address the woodland cardinal, "Always, but with who." It's a rhetorical question, his attention invoked, and by way of that the Phoenix is soon considered as well. "Don't burn too brightly tonight unless you're certain you want what that entails. Hotter fires expire quicker," he warns, "but think of that power." There's a laughter in his eyes, as he refocuses upon his dance. "Easy to fade into a forest with many another creature lurking. Easy to startle." When her attention wanders to the mirrors, so does his, and then he wordlessly points to the winsome reindeer's reflection. "Ah, look, it strays."

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Libertine Table.

Within the mirror, as the Winsome Reindoor stares, her own reflection seems to move slightly differently than she is. More gracefully. Almost elegantly. Yet, if the Reindeer looks too long, the movements seem to match up once more, as if the difference only occurs when she isn't watching. Or perhaps they aren't different at all. Perhaps she's only imagining it.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out looks in the mirror a moment longer to adjust the bucket more squarely on their head before turning to head towards the dance floor.

The Silken Garden departs from the decadent couches, leaning on the cane as she starts to move though pauses at a mirror to tap at it and give a smile and dip of her head to whatever is looking back through it. That done, the older woman starts heading for the exit, leave the frivolity to the much younger people.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask's eyes slide along the mirrors through the ballroom as the Porcelain Doll leads her prize to the ballroom floor, her dark gaze lingering there in the moments before she's whirled into the dance. But once she is, that dance is where her heart lies: she has a grace to her step, a sly and exuberant passion in her touch. Her style is pure Lycene, and the wealth of feathers that adorn her skirts are a swirl of ebony as they move about her.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 31 higher.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses Hand in bones' her dress of mist, floating around the blue roses and thorns that are painted on the skin below, she twirls out to the dance floor, turning to face him with a soft laugh.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta does not quite drift after all. He pauses, hunching like the bird he plays at, and turns his long head to the silver serpent, his hand resting on the back of the couch of immorality. "Is the potential really there?" he asks, brisk challenge. "In the apple keeper and the knighted hero, the high lord and the brittle beggar. At least some few of them must be truly dull, holding nothing darker beneath their surface than gentle whim and modest unselfishness."

The man that enters with the possibly Fidante group is wearing a not so mirrored mask. His is a leather mask of sky blue and rose pink, shaped into the form of a flowering rose. It covers his face, though it does nothing to hide his identity to those who know him. He stays close to the veiled woman's side, not wandering off as he normally might at a party. This is a very very different sort of party than he's used to after all, so he hangs close.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask is propelled by his own feet out from the shadowy alcove, with a cursory glance to the white fox that he leaves behind. And who, in turn, leaves the alcove in another direction. Shorter than some, at an inch or two below five and a half feet. Yet, as he steps, he draws up to the tips of his toes to better get a vantage on what he means to find. A raven, perhaps. As, upon spotting one, he makes for the immorality couch. Sparing looks, as he goes to Tehom and to the dance floor.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

[Fashion] Lore models 'Mirrored Umbra Costume' on behalf of Velenosa, gaining a decent number of admirers and significant compliments.

Someone wearing A mask of green silk lace has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask proves patient, waiting for that hand, that acceptance. When contact is made, she steps in and lets the darker fox take the lead. Her snowy visage tips curiously, verdant gaze studying her vulpine companion as she asks of him, "Does loneliness trouble you?" with what seems genuine interest.

[Fashion] Lore models 'Mirrored Umbra Sandals' on behalf of Velenosa, gaining a decent number of admirers and significant compliments.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 23 higher.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask accepts a glass of wine from a passing servant, and between the time the glass is taken and she and her partner reach their destination the glass is finished and passed off to another servant. She is going to indulge, it seems. She finds herself within the arms of the swirling stygian and iridescite, lifting her head to view his mirrored covered face with no hint of fear for the reflection that she sees within it, smiling at him. As the dance starts, she relaxes against him, the wine maybe?

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars secures another drink with some menacing, probably needless menacing or unintentional menacing, and moves back toward the Libertine's Table. Though, he seems frozen in place for a moment. Something on the ballroom floor catching his attention and not letting it go. He betrays his fiendish visage with a bit of a smile as he moves to sit down once again, freed from the momentary ensorcellment.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask is near a match for her partner. Near. As is right and proper, they with clay feet ought to serve as foundation and backdrop for those crowned by stars. Or horns, as in this case. If the mirrors fascinate, then she leads them in twirling array before their own reflections, entwined and glittering. When focus shifts from that, it's the music alone which guides them.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask looks over the dance floor, seemingly a bit overwhelmed and still very enchanted. She briefly pinches herself almost if checking to see if she is dreaming. Her shoes are wooden and they make quiet a bit of noise of over the dance floor. Tehom speaks of straying and she lifts her delicate chin, her focus drawn upon him. She studies ihs eyes and yet the study is somehow both bold and startled at the very same time. She then looks to the mirror, to them both in the mirror, seeing the more elegant reindeer. "Really?" She says half to herself. She looks down at herself as if to check that she still the same common winter deer. The woodland creature seems very confused. She moves wiggles as if imagining longer limbs and more graceful movements. It probably looks silly. Her cheeks are so pink now.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 28 higher.

Nurie is not wearing a ballgown or a mask, but slips in amongst the periphery, holding a fine silver cloak, perhaps for her lady--as it's very clear she's one of the servants rather than one of the attendees. She is, however, wide eyed with excitement, dark eyes truly aglow.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 48 higher.

With Ghost Dog draped over her seasilk-clad lap, the wiry woman in the Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves happily pets him before going back to her scribing fun. She quietly converses with her fellow wolf with a feathery face.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask begins to move into a waltz with the other fox, while he speaks to them, shifting his form with skilled movements, as he nods a bit. "Perhaps, I often find my self quite busy, except on nights like this when there is a ball. Not that there is often someone to dance with," he admits, while he shifts his palm to the side of the white fox to guide with the dance.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair has most of his body concealed by a flowing umbra robe. The sleeves hide even the silk shirt and the trousers beneath, but he doesn't seem to be here for any purpose. It is aimless, truly. Oh, yeah, and his mask is remarkably creepy, too. Red silk woven into a visage of despair.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask is dancing, enjoying twirling and flowing and dancing with the Cardinal when Tehom addresses them - and her. Her eyes widen at Tehom's words, and perhaps there's a slight stop to her steps before she turns her attention back to Cardinal, perhaps flirtatiously. It's a relatively swift recovery, maybe not even noticeable. Her laughter can be heard, followed by, "There is something to be said for a long steady burn, rather than a blaze of glory. I expect both have their -- moments."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out seems to have no problem with dancing alone. Sir Buckethead manages to find a clear spot on the floor before starting to move.. it isn't exactly in time or beat. Arms bend, thumbs out and jerking to the sides while feet kick out and twist. It's like a dry heave set to music.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors shuffles to find himself a simple glass of whiskey, desperate to calm his nerves. The mask doesn't hide his unease.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask tips her head as she regards the stygian raven. "Oh, I /suppose/ there are some who lack that spark. But almost every soul /can/ be interesting... even if most are only interesting for a fleeting instant, hm? Perhaps the apple seller has a role to play in someone else's story, even if their own is utterly dull."

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask sips at a glass of white wine, eyes wide behind her mask of green-and-blue. She sways slighly from side to side, perhaps due to the drink she's been putting away slowly but steadily, or perhaps because she's following the sway of the music. There's something of a glint of apprehension in her gaze, something faraway and troubled. Her fingers tighten around the stem of the wineglass.

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask takes the offered arm of her Silver Moon companion and smiles up at him, "A dance, then. Now... and then again later." And with that, she's moving to join the crush at the dance floor! Light reflects and glitters off the mirror shards affixed to her body, while the umbra twists offer shadowy contrast, the 'wings' billowing out behind her as she saunters out with her chosen dance partner.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 15 higher.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood drifts one hand over the Rose's shoulder, mindful of the steel-bright thorns. Illusion or not, one should grasp with care. "You ought to lead -- " Skull teases, although it takes the lead with languid over-confidence. Counting steps and turns in odd numbers. On everything thirteenth beat, the Skull turns itself and the Roses toward a mirror -- daring at their reflections to stare back.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask relaxes at her couch, speaking to the figure in a cat mask sharing her couch. Occasionally she steals a glance toward the dance floor and the action going on there. Occasionally she takes a drink of her wine glass, whatever is inside, probably Lycene poison. The drinking goes rather poorly as she can hardly find a way around her mask to lips. It's a holy miracle she doesn't get anything on her gown. She is less concerned it seems with anything around her though as some of it does splash. At least it's a white.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood before departing.

[Fashion] Lore models 'Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask' on behalf of Velenosa, gaining a decent number of admirers and significant compliments.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta tilts his head toward the silver serpent. "We get to the bottom of it, don't we? That a person is only interesting so far as they reflect shadowy fervor and the opposites of ideals. Potential wickedness. A mouse proved to have fangs. So forth. Ah well." He turns his long head, distractedly, toward the spider, before turning his attention to the couch he perches against.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask follows her fellow fox with grace, if not of a particularly practiced variety. A life lived with too little dancing perhaps. The hand not within his maintains a featherlight perch upon his other arm, fingers not quite keeping still, moving to the music, to that far off melancholy before it even registers in her more conscious thoughts. "What is it that keeps you busy?" she wonders in earnest. "That keeps you from dancing?" And for all that she's sincere in that curiosity, her attention turns, tracking that sorrowful sound at the edge of the crowd, head tilted with what seems like hope even as her verdant gaze wells with ache, her smile faded.

Nurie has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

"It is mimicry of you as you are now, yet sometimes the two can coalesce into one, given time and choices," Tehom warns the winsome reindeer before he draws her forward, spun out to do her dance in an arc, before drawing her back inward to a sudden stop. "Now you must wander, little deer, and find your own path." Then, all at once with a step backwards, he detatches and leaves her. The destination he takes is slow to be realised, as he wanders around twos and threes dancing, past lonesome indivuduals just left, or shortly to be joined upon the dancefloor. As he passes a fountain, he moves to rake long claws along it, a rasp against priceless marble. For a moment he sits by a water feature, considering its own attempt at a reflection, tipping his index finger towards its surface.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask watches Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask depart for the dance floor for a moment, grinning her way, before he moves to follow her to the crowded dance floor, sliding up behind her and takes her by the hand. "Alright then. Show me your moves, and I'll show you mines," he says with a playful wink her way.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Inviting Couches.

Duarte offers a final bow to Her Grace and steps around the perimeter of the dance floor to acquire himself a drink and find a place to settle.

Calista glances to her companions. "Drinks. There is so much already going on I feel I need something to help me relax. Where is Blacktongue with his special apples when you need him?"

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask freezes on the dance floor mid-step. Again. She closes her eyes behind her mask and shudders. "Did the music just change?" Her eyes open again and a long, slow breath seems to settle the shivering at least. "I feel...dizzy. As if I've had far too many glasses of wine...instead of just a sip of one." Her voice struggles to sound lighthearted, all honeyed Lycene instead of frightened flower. "I hope I didn't take the wrong glass." A jest is attempted somewhat gingerly, and she moves to the music again with her featureless partner. For distraction she glances to Tehom, taking in his commentary with a smile that might be more real.

Nurie edges closer to a partially hidden watching place, just inside one of the alcoves. She holds the silver cloak gently before her, almost like a shield, or as if she means to be part of the decorations herself. But mosty she just watches, completely enraptured by the spectacle. The sound of steel claws against marble makes her shudder.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars studies the ballroom dance floor while he idly brushes the surface of his whisky glass with a thumb, occasion gaze drawn to it to make sure all the contents remained. That they had not, like a dream, faded or become forgotten. But the gold-scarred black beast is quiet in his repose, quiet and ever so threatening. Only do the familiarity of rending steel claws catch his attention, like hearing his own thoughts from across the room.

As Tehom drags his clawed hand through the water, it turns black in the wake of his touch. The water now dark as stygian mirror.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask moves with the white fox as he considers the question, shifting his hand to twirl the woman, then shifting his form to hers within propriety of the dance of course. He speaks on the answer, "Work, I have a lot of things that I must do to keep people safe, and as such it seems I've not much room for doing all else," he then considers, "What about you?"

Nuries breath is taken in ever so slightly, as the water in the fountain's base turns black. She holds herself motionless, unable to look a way, hugging the silver cloak very close.

Duarte has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves says, "I always knew city water was no good."

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask turns her head toward where the other wolf looks. She says nothing in response, but her fingers tap a pattern against her leg again.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out finishes off his terrible dance without pulling anything and gets his attention drawn by the scrap of marble on stone to see the water the. black by the steel claws. The pail turns towards the Deer and he points at her hands, "I'd wash those before you eat anything. don't know where those" a gesture towards Tehom and his claws, "have been"

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask tilts her head, watching the water turn black. "How beautiful," she murmurs.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask cast a playfully wary glance toward the two chatting wolves as she continues the odd dance of a beast in wooden shoes who sees herself a graceful forest sylph. Her attention slips back to Tehom, wonder in her brown normal eyes. She listens to the being's words, her movements slowing for the moment. She hears of talk of choices and dances with a unskilled passion yet again, spinning in the arc and the then the sudden stop comes. She freezes like the deer she is or maybe only seems to be. She is left in a kind of shocked awe, watching him depart and pinching herself once again. She doesn't seem fully sure this all was real.

Someone wearing a pirate mask cants his head to the side, just a smidge before moving to his feet, "I'll do my best not to crush your toes." He leaves his glass of red on one of the side tables, likely to be taken away by a member of the staff before he even returns. When the white dragon extends her hand, he reaches for it and helps draw her up from the couches. The dance floor isn't so far and it'll take them past Tehom and his contemplation of the now black reflective water. The pirate's feet slow just enough to consider that change before he quietly shakes his head and murmurs something about probably needing to have consumed more wine earlier on.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask shakes his head at the question his dance partner poses. "If it gets worse, let me know. If you did drink something that you shouldn't have, we will need to find a healer," he suggests, though he does not lead her away fromt the dance floor yet. He does, however, glance around the room a bit more often now, turning his head this way and that thanks to the mask's effect on his peripheral vision.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses turns with Bones as they move across the floor, Roses moves with him gracefully, her gown swirling around them with each turn.. and at that thirteenth beat and the mirrors her blue eyes finding his each time with a teasing smile that speaks a dozen things and hides even more.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask tilts her head at Calista's mention of drinks, a slow gesture that carries into the slow way she slips off through the mad melange of colors and featureless faces so that she can acquire some wine. Several glasses of it, two red, one white. One for herself, one for her companions, no audible comments forthcoming.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask turns her head to stare at the figure in the feathered wolf mask. Is it a challenge? Some sort of sizing up? The mask makes it impossible to tell what she might be thinking except she is still and maintains the look from across the room. Perhaps she isn't noticed, after all, it is a very crowded ball, but she maintains the stare for several moments, back straight and rigid.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask notices her. It appears to be a glance at first, but as she catches the staring, her back seems to straighten even if her shoulders remain hunched. Somehow, the already tensed figure becomes even tenser, and her hands, at her sides, both curl into light fists.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask seems to notice the wolves and she watches them with all this wary interest. She then look to the Doll. "I am no deity, but I danced with one!" She says all hopefully. "Will you consider dancing with me?" She asks a prodigal like voice.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

As the water changes, the strange mask worn by Tehom tilts, his head angling as he draws in the water until the repeated touches begin to spread that inky black through the entirety of the pooled fluid. Then, with a sudden and swift movement, he snaps a goblet left nearby. With a flick of the wrist, the dregs of its contents splatter the floor, spilt so it may be emptied. As he lowers the chalice into the water, it fills, and once an inch from the brim it is lifted to his person so he might take a drink from it. Standing slowly, his head revolving back to the upended pail with two eyes, he moves directly toward him one clank of his sollerets at a time. Upon arriving at the pail-helmeted individual, wordlessly he offers the chalice to the partygoer, the other hand gesturing to 'drink up'. "Do you refuse?" he challenges.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair follows the wearer of the columbina mask with his gaze to the refreshments and then back. He opts to approach her companions, tipping his head in a brief greeting before sweeping his right arm outward in a flourish.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 36 higher.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves seems perceptive. She looks up from her blood-red writings on her beige paper (which keeps curling). Setting down her black quill in the ink well, she looks up toward the whimsical and wild winter wolf over yonder then back to the feathered wolf who is across from her. "We should invite that one to join us, so we can be a proper pack of lupines and a canine." She looks over toward Tehom and the Upended Pail, wincing briefly.

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 39 higher.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask seems to have a change in her posture, almost indistinguishable at first, but communicating something, pleasure? satisfaction? When it's clear her stare has been picked up and returned the change occurs. Then, once the die is cast she reels in with a single shift of her head, an upward tilt of her nose, subtle but arrogant.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask seems to be dancing in the arms of a tall man wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask. Their moves are gentle and flowing, their steps just on the edge of the rather crowded dance floor. There appears to be as much quiet conversation between them as there is dancing, but the both of them seem talented enough to make the idle steps appear graceful.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 13 higher.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers converses lightly with those near her still, sipping her wine occasionally. Her eyes continue to watch the people in their colorful masks, her gaze eventually resting on the visage of Tehom as the armored figure disengages from the winsome reindeer. She watches with a curious sort of fascination as he drags his finger through the water, turning it inky black. Eventually, she rises from her seat, and drifts closer to where that dark visage has come to rest, drifting through the milling throne of masked guests, to study the phenomenon more closely. She lifts her glass to sip her wine, gazing at the water as it turns black, though she lingers somewhat back as the masked figure approaches the man with the bucket on his head. She watches curiously to see what happens, sipping her wine.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask lies effortlessly, a hint of her smile returning, "Dancing." The sorrow doesn't leave her eyes, but something brighter glimmers in that verdant gloom. "I write poetry," she tells the ebon fox. "I capture moments in charcoal. The brilliance of epiphany. The weight of realization. The startlement of unexpected affection." She steps in a little closer, pressing the edge of propriety as is only appropriate on this evening. "I--" She starts, meaning to continue, but her attention strays again, tilting toward whatever song it is tugging at her heartstrings. Her gaze tracks the movement of a mirrormasked dancer, her steps falling too slowly, distracted, disrupting the rhythm her partner sets, the cadence which matches the music. When she catches herself, there's a touch of color upon the olive cheeks beneath her snowy mask, an apologetic smile flashed up at the darker fox. "I daydream," she murmurs so very softly.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask wraps an arm around Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask from behind and holds her hand out, and begins to move across the dance floor with her in a slow, twirling motion around the floor with her, holding the woman close as he is about to whisper to her, but then he hears the challenge to the pailhead by a god, and he calls out, "I got hundred silver on he does it. And if he won't, I will!"

The woman in the swathe of rose lace sensually stretched across her eyes catches Tehom offering the person in the pail mask a dark and dangerous drink. She watches to see what the pail masked person will do. From her spot, she murmurs "Drink" as if to encourage or at least hope to encourage. Her lips quirk, amused.

Someone wearing a golden, featureless mask wanders into the ballroom with wine glass in hand and a few glances about the place, admiring it rather than all of the people gathered it seems. Several paces into the crowded room are taken until the mass of people allow for more movement without being jostled. Once, as the woman in the golden mask made her way toward the couches she came to a halt, and that was to peer into the stygian water. Tehom is given only the briefest of looks as she sips from her glass, seemingly bored already.

Deer's can be wary and the winter dancing deer is no exception to such. A soft gasp escapes her lips when she hears the wolves inviting another to join them. "Too many!" She says, but her words are playful. She looks to Tehom and the pail-covered man, still all fascinated even though her dance as ended.

Someone wearing white dragon mask lets the Pirate lead her to the dance floor, her steps light even though she's wearing armor for a costume. She watches Tehom offer water to someone as they pass, but she's really more excited about dancing than anything else. She's quite talented, moving with grace, the draped sleeves of her long gown shimmering like wings.

Someone wearing white dragon mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 55 higher.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

Is there an Arx term for Hold My Beer? The water pail headed man turns his gaze back to Tehom as he approaches with the goblet and the offer and the pail shakes back and forth. "If you think this was the stupidest thing I've done tonight you didn't just see me dance" he says and takes the goblet if able. His other hand tips the pail up so his chin and mouth are visible and he can drink from the goblet jn loud, wet sounding slurps.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors turns all 8 of his mirrored eyes towards the dark water. "...nnngg."

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask continues staring in return. She doesn't move from her spot, not yet, but her hands visibly clench harder. She's gone very still.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask's voice sounds in a warm laugh as the Scandalous Porcelain Doll seems to release her from their dance on the ballroom floor, her chin lifting in a moment's regal hauteur at something the Doll has said. And then her gaze seems to -- catch. Something beyond the Doll, something there in the mirrors. She stills, and then she turns to step off the floor and back to the tables, her gaze flitting over Tehom and the Pail, before she finds her table once more. And her escort.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has joined the Libertine Table.

Eventually the High Inquisitor's attentions must fall upon Tehom. When the Avatar of a god walks among you, one should pay attention. The Inquisitor does not seem to react to the various bits of supernatural and seeming magics that the masked figure works. The altering of waters. The shifting of shadows. The twisting of Reflections. Perhaps the man worries of other terrors and horrors that lurk beyond the lights of the masquerade. Alistair certainly does not interrupt the manifestation of Tehom, the man having enough respect it seems for the culture of his new family.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask increases the pace of the dance, moving a bit quicker to the music as he dances with the woman in the sunrise mask. His attention seems to be locked on her though every so often his eyes wander to the candles and the shadows of the room and there is a quick jolt of his neck, bringing his head back to focus on his dance partner.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask flits away from the dance floor, returning to the refreshments. Partying is thirsty work for little extinct creatures.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has rolled a critical success!
Someone wearing a pirate mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars maintains vigil over the table of the Libertine. His whisky is, oddly, ignored. Though its looked to on occasion. He seems to look back from his thoughts at the noticeable approach of the Horned Goddess, perhaps even seconds before she approached.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 38 higher.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask calls out from her dance towards the pailed wearing man, "please try not to die, thank you!" Because being polite is always important. Especially when someone decides to go creepy drink to creepy drink with a God's Avatar.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves finishes off the last line, her adoring signature, in the red ink from the raven quill before she airs out the beige paper for it to properly dry. Then, she rolls it up and tucks away the written words into her Map Case on her weapons belt. She soon dries her crow quill, very carefully, then caps off the ink well and puts away both those items, too.

One of the silver moon masked figures rises, her dark umbra dress swirling with the motion and she moves slowly, a little wonderingly, through the ballroom, looking into the faces of various masked revelers, perhaps to see if there's someone she knows, perhaps seeking a particular pair of eyes but not finding them. Eventually she comes to the mirror and stands before it, tipping her head to look at her own dark reflection searchingly. Curiously. And not without a little dread.

One more dance and that's it -- that's done. The sound of liquid splashing across the floor catching the attention of the Skull, and then the visage of Tehom there with a goblet issuing a challenge. Something behind the crudely made mask chokes back a manic-sounding laugh, one that trails off into an uneasy twitter. "Back to table, Rose, these old bones need a little more Fire."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask moves to give the white fox a little more balance, then he draws his attention to the waters, before it's back to her in thought. "I like also to dream, it can offer much insight, as can drawing. Paintings are somewhat a hobby of mine, when I have the muse." He dips all the fingers of one hand to her back to allow her to shift backwards, then he presses his face next to hers, then back up with them both as he draws her to him so he can switch in a circle position. He seems to know his dances well enough. "Your beauty is astounding, even if that wondrous mask is all I've to go with."

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask possesses survival instincts enough to look behind her when the Horned one's gaze drifts (again!) beyond her. She pivots on one naked heel and finds only a mirrow, reflecting all of the flash and colour of the crowd. For a moment, doll gazes at reflected doll, the flicker-flash snatches of pale pearl and diamond visible behind the blur of others' movements. Then she steps forward, on a course for Nurie, staring, insinuating herself into the gap between little servant and the newly black-drenched fountain.

As Pail Head drinks, the water... tastes like water. It might taste like water that's been sitting in a fountain and likely a hundred pairs of fingers have trailed through tonight (also, this is the Velenosa Estate so who knows what else has been going on in that fountain) but still. Just plain water.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask laughs in delight at the sudden grasp of the Silver Moon's arm, extending her own and following him into the slow dance that sends them revolving around the floor. For moment, just a moment, she stutters in step, catching herself before falling out of sync with the music but looking decidedly less joyful and decidedly more worried. Her eyes dart around the room, catching one gaze, another, then back to her dance partner. She forces a laugh at his shout, but just as quickly tilts her head to murmur into his ear.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 17 higher.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask rises slowly from her spot, each muscle moving very.. deliberately. Her eyes do not move from the feathered wolf. She gains her full height, which isn't exactly impressive, but she tries to carry herself with an imposing hunter grace. At first she merely stands from where she stood, staring, but she looks ready to at any moment start moving.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a pirate mask manages to leave the White Dragon's feet unbroken for now. But it's quite obvious that he's far more accustomed to a more... economical use of his body. He does try his very best to keep up, but he's not a complete fool. She's infinitely more talented than him at this particular arena and he gives in to good sense, following her lead as they move through their paces on the floor. "I get the feeling like you've done something like this before?" he asks, a sliver of amusement laced into the quiet rumble of his voice.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask watches all the dancing and she still hasn't started to dance herself yet. She seems like someone who needs a moment to recover. She watches the dancing about her, bright-eyed and so impressed. She looks after the bat for a moment, blinking and then she looks into the mirror by the bat. "I never seen a real bat before." She says. She then studies the spider for a moment, trying to see into all his little mirrors. Her attention is all over the place. Her fingers are deeply calloused so she must work sometime and not only flit about. The deer is quick to watch the wolves. What deer wouldn't want them?

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask is already standing, but as the other wolf moves, her head lifts. A moment later she pushes back against the wall she's standing next to, leaning, but not relaxing in the slightest.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask smiles beneath her mask a bit more genuinely now. "I don't need a healer. Silly. I helped plan this party and no one mentioned poisoning anyone at all. I suppose they could have slipped that in to last minute arrangements, but I don't think so." She glides with her featureless partner across the floor, steps light. Pale green eyes watch the water darken and glance towards the mirror again. "I'm sure it's just the Blood Moon. The thirteen days of prayer. I fasted a bit...even a few sips of wine might feel stronger." It's almost reassuring.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask hums to herself, in time with the music, as she browses the refreshment table, selecting another glass of red wine, and raising it to her lips--and then she stops short, head tilted to one side as if listening to something beyond the music. "Where?" she asks of the air. "I mean which ones are they?"

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors walks towards the dark water to examine it unabashedly.

Tehom walks slowly in a circle around the upended pail and the person beneath, moving steadily, watching as the chalice is drunk from. Wordless as he was when considering the water earlier, like an experiment, the revelry is heard around him. Upon the acceptance, he moves forward, and leans in to murmur queitly. When he's finished, he steps back, and then says louder. "Do not taunt the gods. Nor their reflections. To do so is not stupidity, it is a form sacrilege all of its own, and has a different word." Then he steps past, transfixed with the sight of the shadow, whereupon he moves to settle within it alongside its occupants.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Silk and Steel Lycene Jester Mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 36 higher.

Nurie has found a new companion in the shadowy alcove, talking with hushed exuberance with him it would seem. Though as the Porcelain Doll draws near, her eyes light with joy and affection, and she curtsies quite deeply to her as she arrives.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves helps down Ghost Dog who stands up on the floor below, then the human being -- herself -- stands up, too.

Someone wearing a golden, featureless mask spits out whatever she was drinking into her glass and snorts in disgust. Tehom is given some sort of look but it'll remain a mystery with that mask and all. No matter. It's probably for the best.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask accepts the hug, pulling Phoenix in to whisper against the side of her mask, holding her closely for a moment before releasing her.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask stalks slowly across the ballroom. A straight line directly toward the feathered wolf masked figure. She looks rather relaxed, all things considering, but she is also careful not to break the stare. Never to break the stare. Her crossing is slow, very slow, but deliberate. She manages it without ever truly stopping, whenever someone crosses in her path, she simply slows. At times she is going so slowly to be hardly moving, but she keeps moving with those relentless steps. She'll keep going until she is just outside of arms length of the feathered wolf.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 38 higher.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask proves grateful for her parter's grace, her hold upon his arm more firm as he steadies her, as he guides her through movements she might not manage without so strong a lead to follow. Softly, she teases, "It's the blush," though the subtle incline of her head marks acceptance of those sweet words all the same. Growing slowly steadier again as they step and spin across the floor, she wonders of her darker companion, "What is it you paint?" Then, quieter once more, "And what do you /dream/?"

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask remains still, very still, slightly slouched, up until the winter wolf gets just...that...close. And then suddenly she straightens, sharp, stepping forward with a cloud of implicit violence about her, even if her arms remain glued to her sides.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask smiles and takes the offered hand by the sun, "The sun is always following in my wake, so it would be fitting for us to dance I suppose. Excuse us," she says to the table and moves over to the dance floor, "It's been quite awhile since I've done this, so hopefully yoir shoes are strong."

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Ghost Dog and the wiry lass in the Wolf Mask of White Silk and Malachite Leaves hang out not far from the winter wolf closes in on the feathered wolf. "Greetings." says the human being.

Drinks are in hand, and the leather clad woman turns to the other woman in leather beside her. "I should go find the Archduchess." It is possible there is yet another masked companion with them. She offers a dangerously charming smile to Despair. "Well, hello hello to you. Let's see what we've got here." She gives Despair the universal sign for turn so that she may check out his complete ensemble.

As Tehom approaches and speaks the group in the shadowy alcove, the unmasked Nurie drops to one knee, her head bowed as if in supplication.

As the evening progresses, little annoyances add up. Glasses of wine that seem to empty sooner than they should. Sometimes those glasses of wine seem to go missing altogether when one swore they placed it down right -there- within arm's length. Getting bumped into where there is plenty of space to maneuver one would think. The hem of a trailing gown stepped on. Little annoyances.

To note, the wiry lass in the Wolf Mask of White Silk and Malachite Leaves does not leave her hands down but brings them both up to touch her palms together, doing so around neck level as she silently surveys her fellow wolves.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask takes a tiny step back, but does not back down entirely. She only lifts an arm as if she were shielding her head from the light, but instead she seems to be shielding her mask. She doesn't back down any further, watching the feathered wolf wi- Then someone addresses the pair and the spell is broken for her, she looks at the newcomer actually looking taken aback this time.

Someone wearing a golden, featureless mask seems to suffer one annoyance too many. One of the bottles of wine is snagged and then she's out.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask turns from the refreshment table and begins to move through the crowd, peering at each mask she passes intently, and inclining her head in greeting in each. "It is the Eclipse of Mirrors," she murmurs, at the scrap of some conversation. "Who knows how many Archduchesses are here?"

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask moves with the white fox, though he seems to shift a bit as he frowns, "Huh, what was that?" he asks, looking to see if someone was on their path. He then looks back to the woman, "Would you like to settle in for some wine? I can speak more about it then, though it is mostly just the dreams of many beautiful places, sometimes less than nice though..." He smiles gently.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing white dragon mask is an excellent dance partner, and she dances winningly with the pirate, easily keeping up with the music despite her irridescent enameled armor. Her mood seems greatly improved by the dancing, really.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask was watching the wolves with a playful wariness, but now she is watching them with real wariness. She studies the mirrors close to them and then looks at them closely. Her slender shoulders are drawn taut with with subtle tension. She is standing on the dance floor,but not dancing for the moment. "I actually the Archduchess!" She announces in her heavy Shav voice. That seems unlikely. She peeks over to the throne after saying that. "I could be."

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask dances with the tall man in the patchwork mask, smiling with hints of laughter heard by those near enough to them. She is suddenly spun out in a twirl, his hand holding hers, before he tugs her back to him, holding her close. Her gown flares out, colors of the sun rising over the horizon fluttering from the movement before the twirl ends and they resume their slower, conversational style.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers watches the bucket-head person drink the water, then nods slightly as Tehom's vision moves on toward the shadowy corner. Then she is moving on. Drawing a breath, she finally moves closer to one of the mirrors, her gaze lowered at first. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze, and looks directly at her reflection, right hand down at her side, arm sheathed in sheer silk, her right hand lifting the glass of wine, to take a slow sip of it, watching her reflection as she does so. She studies the fish-scale mask with its spray of feathers and glittering crystals on her face, the meticulously-styled dark tresses glimmering with opals in the candlelight, the ocean-blue and green silk gown.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair turns as bid, eyes bright with amusement at the end of that motion, performed very slowly. "Do you like it? I like yours. I'd ask you to turn but as it turns out, you do have a glass of wine in hand."

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask listens to Tehom's words about respect, offering an approving nod. "There are many things," she remarks, "which should not be taunted; gods and their reflections among them. Too few people remember that..." She trails off, her attention snapping to the feathered wolf's sudden tension. "Darling, I hope you don't mind my saying, but it seems like you're /desperately/ in need of a drink."

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask steps forward when the winter wolf steps back, and then halts. "Stop," she says. The word isn't loud--it's fairly quiet, all things considered. And it's surprisingly so, given the tension enveloping the rest of her.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out finishes off the goblet with a loud slurp before lowering the bucket back in place and holding it there so he can dip into a low bow. "Thank you, i was quite parched. And for the advice as well." the goblet is handed off to staff and he makes his way towards the door. "Please do let me know people if I start sweating blood or some such." he did just drink strange liquid at a Lycene party, after all.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors begins to meander in thoughtful circles through the ballroom for. The closest he can come to dancing is a sort of meandering stroll, in a very wide circle, briefly muttering in thought as he does so.

For the woman in the delicate mask of satin and feathers, it's not the mirror that holds as much interest as the shadow. There is a shadow on that silk draped wall that can't exist. Can it? The longer she looks at it, it seems as if it is -moving-? Wait, is it -giggling- now? A child's giggle. Coming from a shadow. Those Lycenes sure serve good booze, don't they?

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask suffers one such small annoyance of her own. Upon reaching for her glass of white wine, she finds it gone. Nothing in its place but air, allowing her hand to glide through the empty space weightlessly. There's a frown beneath her mask as she looks down to where she just made her fruitless grab, and then turns her head from side to side, as though seeking out the culprit. A brief look falls upon Pirate Mask, but then seemingly content that he wasn't the one to blame, she smiles in purse-lipped fashion and plucks another glass from a server's tray. Sip. Sip. Sip. Her cobalt gaze strays towards the mirrors, haunted.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask takes the raven's hand as it is offered, and is guided as they go toward the floor. His face - the half not hidden by his half-mask lights up along the way, laughter spilling from a smile at something the bird said as they departed from the couch. "Magnificent," he repeats, along the way. Weighing the word. And in weighing it, must find it to be more and more suitable - to lose the humor that talk of madness held, and he agrees with it, a simple nod as he strides onto the ballroom floor with more confidence that was afforded to his initial approach of the couch. Taking now, in stride, the surreal strangeness of the event.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves does not move much, glancing to each wolf beyond her: the winter wolf and the feathered wolf. She keeps up her hand posture and slides back a single slipper just barely for a new stance, but then she suddenly stops after the feather'd wolf's halting proclamation. She peers out the shadowy sockets of her own mask toward the winter wolf, staying still.

Nurie rises from her curtsy, though her head is still slightly bowed, after Tehom says something to her, the tension in her willowy form melting away.

Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a silver crescent moon half mask leaves, following Someone wearing Mirrored Stygian Columbina Mask.

Someone wearing a pirate mask remains the less practiced of the pair, but as he's given himself over to her superior dance skills, there's a significant lack of stubbed toes and bruised feet. However, every dance must eventually come winding to an end. And when this one does, he'll dip at the waist before remarking to his partner, "Thank you for the opportunity to dance. You're very talented."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 8 lower.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask is halted. Someone said hello and the other wolf said stop and now she's stopped. Utterly stopped. She is trying to keep perfectly still. She's trying not to even breath, but sometimes she fails, she's obviously not an actress.

It's between the topple of a glass and the accidental elbowing of someone else in a mask that causes the grinning Skull to speak low, and mellow, "Rose, getting caught in the whirl and twirl rather gets my head spinning --" with a flick, the skull swipes at his own mask, spinning it for emphasis. "I promised to ask someone prettily, but, the asking is done. After you? Bring the Fire."

"Can one not twirl while holding a glass of wine?" The lady in rose lace asks of Despair. "Well, either way, eat your heart out." She gives a wink before offering introductions, "They are with me." First to someone in a shimmering columbina mask, and second to the man beside her, Luciano.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask lifts her wooden shoe and wiggles her fight toward the spider. "Be careful, I stomp." She threatens. She then hears the giggle and shudder runs up her spine. She goes to try and take over the Duchess' throne next, attempting to take a perching seat on the arm of such as if wanting to back up her previous claim.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite before departing.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask keeps up her half of the stare for a few moments longer. A long few moments perhaps. And then whatever mood was hovering around her seems to...not break...but perhaps bend. She eases back a step, then turns and retreats back to her wall. Her hands clench and unclench, but they do seem to settle into 'unclenched' for the time being.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Eleyna eyes the woman in the Reindeer mask as she tries to sit on her throne. The Archduchess nods to her guard and then says in a very light tone, "I think you should go dance again, my dear."

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask keeps her focus on the ebon fox when he, in turn, falters. She'd seen no one, yet she offers no question, makes no attempt to assure all is well. Instead, she takes a half-step away as their dancing comes to its end, her hand still in his, and assures softly, "I'd like that," of his offer to find a bit more stillness. And some wine. Her attention strays from her fellow fox for a moment, as she catches laughter from the man in the checkered half-mask with whom she'd arrived, now in the company of a raven. The soft, happy sound she makes almost certainly gets lost to the din of the party, for all save the man nearest to her.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers continues to stare into the mirror for some time, but then, the shadow on the wall catches her attention. She turns her eyes toward it, away from her reflection, and stares at the shifting shadow with a sort of quiet skepticism. She moves away from the mirror, and closer to the wall in question, studying it closely, and the shadow there. She glances at the wine glass in her /left/ hand, not the right hand, because obviously her right hand can't be down, and then also lifted for a drink - then back at the shadow on the wall, with its apparent giggling. She glances around then, to see if she can figure out the source of that shadow. Surely someone is simply making shadow puppets?

After taking something from Duarte and speaking with Nurie for a time, Tehom rises, offering his hand to the Porcelain Doll. Much like a paternal figure to a daughter, it is hand in hand, by their sides as he leads her. Toward one of those impossible depths of shadow that have remained despite lanterns and candles, Tehom soon urges her to kneel before it, and murmurs words of instruction, "Put your hands out, backs to the floor, and wait. Let us find you a little friend, my dear."

The little annoyances owing to gentle and accidental bumps here and there are about to become huge bothers when it's clear Duarte is on the way to the dance floor. He is escorting Nurie in that direction.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 20 higher.

After the winter wolf stops breathing and the feathered wolf moves away, the wiry lass in the Wolf Mask of White Silk and Malachite Leaves shifty eyes to either one. She soon mentions, "You should probably breathe." to Winter Wolf.

Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowy moon mask leaves, following Someone wearing a gleaming rays of the sun mask.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta leads the checkered man back, back, back to the floor, his other black-clad hand dramatically raised. "Come, anonymous and clever stranger. Come, and I will show you the magic of the mask. To be nobody and thus /everybody/. There is power in that." He stumbles. "There must be power in that. Are we not all anonymous here? We must do it for a reason." He begins to dance, and it's a shambles of a dance, narrow and graceless and barely balanced at all. His mirrored eyes reflect blood, and he has not the powerful mien of a predator restrained, but of something awkward and embarrassing, over-performing. He sighs. To checkered. "Outdo me, please. It should be easy. I imagine you don't have two left feet." He makes a quick, sidelong head-tilt toward the fox.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses has left the Libertine Table.

Ghost Dog tail wags after the broken tension and pads over to check out the Feathered Wolf, nosing up at her unclenched hand, the nearest one.

Someone wearing a crudely made skull mask of unvarnished, pale wood has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask departs the shadows with her hand tucked neatly in Tehom's. She pads bare-footed at his side, set so easily adrift to the dictates of a god's will in the crush. Face impassive as ever, bearing composed, she goes where he bids and there takes to her knees with her insubstantial skirts pooled around her legs. "As you say, my lord," she says as her mask lifts to let gleaming green eyes peer into the dark.

Duarte has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Duarte has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask nods then to the white fox, while he moves to find a place to settle in as he finds some wine, nodding thankfully to t woman at something. He then settles at a couch that's placed in front of the vixen table, which makes sense as a place for the foxes to relax.

Someone wearing white dragon mask bows as well to her partner, sweeping out a graceful curtsy. "Thank you for indulging me in the dancing," she says brightly and sincerely with a little flourish. "It's been a pleasure." Then she drifts off after some cake.

As the bloody moon rises ever higher in the sky, washing the waters of Arx red with it's crimson light, even the ballroom takes on a more sanguine glow. The candles burn a little lower. The air seems a little thicker with smoke and perfume.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the the winter vixen table.

Nurie has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Nurie has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Calista has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a regal silk half-mask of steel-bright filigree thorns and blue roses stands from the couch taking hold of a bottle and glasses, in a swirl of mist and roses turns toward the door tugging Bones behind her.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has joined the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask seems to have had her fill of dancing, and whatever her date for the evening has said, causes her to nod and smile. With her arm never leaving around his waist, holding him closely against her though still allowing movement, "lets. Are you planning to throw me over your shoulder?" She doesnt actually believe he is going to by her remaining grin.

Politely not dead yet, the water pail wearer takes his leave.

"Oh, they can. But if is too full, it risks spilling. Not that I am particularly afraid of that." Despair wears an umbra robe, after all. A brief greeting to the lady in the shadowy bat mask, in passing, it seems. "Ah, a pleasure, both of you." He touches the side of his anguished mask by way of an odd, exaggerated theatrical greeting.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask stares breathing again, but it's a little clear that she took too long not breathing and her posture is utterly broken by her attempts to regain air. She loses her posture for a moment as she goes about getting her breath back. She looks at the feathered wolf and the other wolves and then finally manages to straighten back up.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask murmurs something to Eleyna, but she stops trying to perch on the arm of the throne. Te woman's words seem enough to stop such.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors notices the thickening of the air's smoke and perfume, then rubs his chest. He looks from one side to the other before suddenly moving to put his back to a wall, breathing in and out.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite throws the sharpened scales woman over his shoulder and carries her away in such a state. Such is the night of the Eclipse!

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

6 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting leave, following Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask.

6 House Velenosa Guards, Someone wearing a sharpened scales mask leave, following Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon looks around for the glass she just had, frowning, then looks up as the light seems to shift, the dark-crimson glow of the room setting something off cant within her. She looks disquieted, but she turns back when some of the people at the table leave and another speaks, and she shifts her attention to the Horned Goddess once more to speak.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask continues watching the other wolves, winter wolf more than the other, but she doesn't seem inclined to do anything more. Indeed, as the red light spreads throughout the ballroom, she seems to stick to the wall even closer. The Ghost Dog gets a single, absent-minded pat.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask largely holds her glass like it was a prop, a flute of pale liquid in a gloved hand. Perhaps it does not escape her notice that the contents of that glass have diminished. In fact she tilts her head a bit to the side to study this very thing, rendered entirely expressionless and so lent an extra quirk of inquisivity. Despair, though. His theatrics lure her attention, and finally draw out a comment. "Evidently you need more practice."

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a whimsical and wild winter wolf mask makes her way out of the ballroom, rather abruptly.

Ghost Dog sits down neast to the feathered wolf with a slow wag which has a brushing effect against the floor below. Anyone walking behind him probably gets soundly whapped. Meanwhile, the leafed wolf reaches out back pat the winter wolf, but she is too fast, escaping away before any contact made.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask inhales the atmosphere as the ballroom grows redder, the air thicker. She seems to stand a little taller Her eyes are bright behind her mask, one hand rests on the mirror she wears, familiarly. She dips her head to Despair in passing, and glances about the room, her gaze drifting across the mirrors. "I feel as if we should do _something_ when the moon grows like this," she says. "The world holds its breath." She looks to her glass; it's empty. She bites her lip and wanders over to the table.

As Tehom stoops just a little, watching the shadow, he moves his hand above Porcelain Doll's to adjsut it -just so-. Then, with a motion that's quick, he pricks her finger with the tip of those sharp claws and and lays the other to the back of her head to shush the complaint. "Do not fear, you forsake nothing," he promises, as those of Arx who fear binding contracts may, before he insists, "it just for tonight." Then, he waits with her, watching her resolve in the light of the conditional step.

Probably one isn't supposed to laugh other than a very proper laugh, distant and just so, at a formal ball--but something that Duarte says draws a quite natural and unforced gentle laugh from her, and her smile upwards towards him is quite cheerful indeed.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask has joined the Libertine Table.

Luciano has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask follows, follows, ever following. As the darker fox descends, so does she, snowfall against shadow, situating herself perhaps too close to her darker reflection given how they seem to have only just met. There seems relief in it, though, the cessation of movement, this sudden stillness. The world's no quieter for it, and yet she finds peace. Her evergreen attention, a forest caught in winter, scans the party, lingering longest upon the red, contorted mask of Despair, curiosity lingering though others interrupt her view with fair frequency.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask looks over to the Doll and Tehom, her brown eyes wide. The curiousness and wariness both return.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask checked composure + manipulation at difficulty 15, rolling 31 higher.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask pats Ghost Dog a few more times. Pat. Pat. There's a visible exale from her, slow and careful.

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves looks back toward the blood letting and then her cobalt-blue eyes go wide behind those dark-lined sockets on her wolf mask. She shuffles over to Ghost Dog and the feathered wolf and leans close to both individuals.

Someone wearing a pirate mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask glances to and fro as he's guided to the floor, at first, searching for someone that he'd seen earlier but perhaps lost. But that he can swear whose laughter he hears, in one moment, spilling more freely than he might recognize it. He might search for longer, but there's the now of it, anonymous with a raven who has beckoned him against his lacking experience to the floor. Again laughing, amused so completely by the raven's lesson of masks and the stumble that shades it so perfectly. And the hardly balanced dance that follows, at first, may be all the more enjoyed for it. "Maybe I'll have two right feet," he observes. "And we'll be set right." He guides them both, next, a smoother, natural progression that begins with a spring from one knee, to termination, sinking to the next. Not just steps, but a smooth progression thereof. Such natural grace that it makes up for a stated lack of experience in dance. Green eyes flashing excitedly.

Duarte begins...walking? Tripping? Dancing. Oh. He's 'dancing' Nurie around the ballroom floor. It is marked by the occassional pull of his companion in a sometimes illogical and unintuitive direction entirely. Truly god awful. But it's the fun that counts, right?

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask gives up her finger without quibbling or hesitation. Her head has been positioned so it remains thus, though perhaps her eyes cut sidelong in a bid to spy, around the holes of the mask, to see what Tehom is about. Whatever pain there is, she bears it, quiescent beneath the weight of Tehom's quelling hand. "Forsaking nothing, having already given all," she remarks. The bead of blood which wells up is held high, crowning the pad of her finger while her regard returns to shadow. Patience, infinite.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask moves slowly around the dance floor with her partner, red lips curving up in a half-smile that is enticing and reverent all at once. "You see how beautiful it is?" She comments on the reddened moon as the diffused light fills the ballroom with that hint of blood-red and shadow. "Now it is yours too, Lycene or not. We are on the edge of the Reflection." No elaboration on what she means, but she sighs and moves closer until the end of one song. She looks over to Tehom every few moments, drinking in His presence here tonight, avatar or otherwise.

After the whispered words from the leafed wolf, Ghost Dog dutifully moves to follow along with the masked woman with which he showed up. It is quite clear they are on their determined way toward the yonder exit, doing so with the politest 'pardon me'-s.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask gives the faintest nod to the other wolf, Malachite. She takes her hand away from Ghost Dog now, pulling it back to her side.

As the woman in the Doll Mask kneels in that shadowy corner, waiting instructions from Tehom's visage, the shadows seem alive. Perhaps it is the ruddy light of the moon streaming into the ballroom and washing the white marble with a faintly crimson sheen, but bits of shadow seem to hop and play like little spiders. A tiny piece will slither into the light and them seems to scurry back. The movements are subtle. Surreal. Not possibly real, right? Yet, as a pinprick of blood wells up on the tip of her finger, one brave piece of shadow seems to rest on her hand. A tiny bit of nothing. Of air. Of strangeness. Yet, the moment that light falls upon it, only a simple bit of soot is illuminated. Was it ever a shadow at all?

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask seems to be placing a napkin on his drink so no reflections drink it, while he speaks with the white fox. He seems to be content with relaxing from the dance.

Nurie is dutifully danced by Duarte, and if she almost falls over her own feet, well surely it's his fault, not her own! It is, perhaps, a fortunate distraction, as she doesn't yet notice the Porcelain Doll's yielding of blood, completely innocent to it at the present just trying to keep up with the Count.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 15 higher.

Mystified by the shadows, and their unapparent source, the fish-masked woman makes her way toward the staircase up to the balcony overlooking the chamber, pausing near one of the windows as the glow of that blood moon filters more fully into the ballroom. She gazes out the window, staring at the red glow against the walls of the city beyond. Her lips, beneath the half mask, press together thoughtfully, and then she turns away from the eerie sight and makes her way back down the stairs and to a seat, setting her empty glass down on a table, and then taking up another glass of wine as she goes. Why not indulge? She settles into a seat, and sips, glancing about again and watching the people and the shadows play.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask chuckles mirthlessly and responds to his dance partner, "It is definitely...something." His movements are still stiff as they dance, and does not ask her to elaborate when she speaks of being on the edge of the Reflection."

"I was never very good at pretense." Despair states to the shimmering columbina, his voice mildly resigned. The lady in the shadowy bat mask's remark draws his attention briefly and he offers another nod. His attention is briefly stolen by the white fox's stare. After, he leans in to murmur to Calista.

The next time the Impish Midnight Ebon Fox reaches for his glass, the napkin is sitting next to the still full goblet. Folded neatly.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is overheard praising Eleyna: Amazing legendary party!

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta laughs a delighted laugh, which he only belatedly remembers to turn into a croak. He leans back, but is easily carried by the checkered man's better assurance in steps and grace. "You have two right feet after all. Perhaps three. You dance like the wind rolling over hills. What am I saying?" he tries. "I am trying to complement you, but I have not the words to match." He follows his partner the closer, mimicking his movements with natural awkwardness, but he's at least more stable for the attempt. "Ah, ah," says he to the checkered man. "I came to indulge in shallow vice, and here I am dancing with an ideal. Which one, I wonder?"

Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is overheard praising Vanora: Amazing legendary party

Sir Floppington, the soulful hound leaves, following Someone wearing Wolf Mask of White Silk with Malachite Leaves.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is overheard praising Belladonna: amazing party!

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask is overheard praising Velenosa.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers is overheard praising Eleyna: Such a deliciously creepy experience.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is overheard praising Velenosa: amazing party!

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is overheard praising Mirrormask: amazing party!

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask is overheard praising Eleyna.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask is overheard praising Eleyna.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask appears to be the only wolf remaining now. She does nothing terribly interesting, merely hunching against the wall in the shadowy corner and watching the rest of the attendees in silence.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask is overheard praising Vanora.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask is overheard praising Velenosa.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask is overheard praising Belladonna.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask is overheard praising Eleyna.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask is overheard praising Mirrormask: Wonderful night of the Faithful.

As the shadow lives a moment of life in the hand of the Porcelain Doll, then there is only a sooty dust that remains on those fingers, to which Tehom gallantly offers an umbra cloth from within a seamless pocket of his robe for the cleansing of her hand. "They live only a moment, to taste this realm, but they cannot linger otherwise. Tonight you saw the wisp and enjoyed its company, but tomorrow you will mourn the loss of a friend. I hope it cheered you, nonetheless. Now, my daughter, revel in the night and shadow amongst friends with no such restrictions." A gesture, to the partygoers. "They won't perish as easily. Not tonight, anyway."

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask is overheard praising Mirrormask.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask sit sjust at the edge of the sofa where her companions have settled, glass yet in hand, largely undrunk, like some kind of necessary party-related prop. She has one; she does not need another. As they converse she looks around, a slow turn of her head periodically paused by glimpses of movement, of dancing shadows and dancing revelers.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask slips away from the Archduchess' throne and goes to find herself a drink which she desperately needs at this point. She looks over to the Doll and Tehom, still very curious. She then has a smile for the Fox.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask is overheard praising Velenosa.

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask is overheard praising Mirrormask.

The doll's hand suffers a delicate tremor as she turns it, fingerpads forward, to present that ruby jewel to the boiling shadows. Behind the mask, perhaps her breath is held. It would seem a natural thing to do as nothing or ash drifts to accept the offering. But with shadow's resolution-- nothing to something-- she tilts her hand to study the sooty smear left behind. "Tomorrow then." A quiet remark as she rolls up from knees to feet and winds the umbra about her finer. That's hers now. Praise Tehom.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask seems, for just a moment, to confer with one of the shadows in the room; perhaps the woman has a flair for the theatrical. But then her attention returns once more to the feathered wolf, as she makes her way over to the woman.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Music has played all night, strange and beautiful. Haunting and lively. Old Lycene favorites along with songs that any Arxian would recognize. Yet, as the bloody moon rises, that music seems to get stranger and stranger. Discordant notes hidden in the beauty. Odd layering of sounds that are once unsettling and yet makes the urge to dance nigh unresistable to some. Other will simply find that the music is starting to irritate them for some reason they can't quite put their finger on.

Someone wearing wooden cat mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 7 higher.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask keeps her own wine rather steadily in hand, though she hardly seems interested in drinking it herself. When Despair's contorted visage turns her way, she smiles a strange and curious smile below her snowy mask. Her attention turns eventually, shifting toward the darker fox at her side, toward the dancers, toward the mirrors. So very many places for curiosity to catch.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask basks in reflected delight. His own met in kind by the raven, and warranting the kind of smile that's likely to hurt later on. "If I'm the wind over the hills," he starts, and pauses as if to think - as if to find a metaphor to match as they dance, enjoyment of motion and of minds giving delay to his sharpness. As they dance closer so that he might guide their pace and direction. "The day by which to see it?" he decides, at last, when it's already so late as to imply that he might not have had anything to say at all. "For I wouldn't have been seen rolling over the hills without your asking." An idea. But which? "Do I have a say in that, or is it for you to discover?"

"I feel the urge to dance." The lady in rose lace says to her companions. "Who will join me?"

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask makes a noise that sounds like air being hissed between clenched teeth. Otherwise, she's another wall decoration.

The all knees and elbows team, having made their first revolution around the floor in horrible syncopation to the actual music seems to calm down a touch, as it appears that Nurie is in the driver's seat for this time around, rather than Duarte. Oh, occasionally there's her slippered foot that mashes his. And they do come very very close to bisecting another dancing couple in two, turned away at the last moment (mostly to the skill of the other couple). But slowly they find a little of the rhythm, and even though her laughter may very well be lost in the other hubbub, you can see it in Nurie's eyes as they move.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair offers a nod of greeting to the lady with the white vulpine mask, his features concealed so his expression is hard to gauge. "I will," he says, to Calista. "I am no good at it, however. Fair warning."

Someone wearing wooden cat mask gives a mild shake of her head, the scented smoke and the to large of a crowd in a hall that should be cavernous but seems to entirely packed with people has her making a sound of annoyance. She makes for the door, passing through the crowd like a shadow, or more than that, simply unnoticed in the crush.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask sips at the wine, talking to that new fox at the table, seeming not bothered with the fact that the napkin was moved. It seems as the music shifts, his gaze looks to the others of the room.

Having put down her glass on the nearest flat surface, the lady in the Swallow Mask is now sitting hunched over with her elbows resting on her knees, and her forehead and cheek cupped in her hand. Probably just too much wine. Or maybe the music with it's underlying discordance. Locks of golden hair hair tumbled from their pretty updo, lending her an undone appearance.

Jaenelle might have snuck back into the event to steal one of the bottles of wine, lifting it towards Eleyna in toast!

Jaenelle is overheard praising Velenosa: 30

Jaenelle is overheard praising Velenosa.

Eleyna lifts her hand to her lips to blow a kiss to Jaenelle and wave her off to enjoy her spoils.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask is overheard praising Eleyna: Great Night.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon smiles and seems merry enough talking with those at her table, but now and then rubs her head and seems to grow pale, the jet black of her umbra gown doing no favors to her complexion as the music begins to wear at her. She looks around, blue eyes narrowing as if in a chronic wince.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask is lifted from a rather dramatic dip at the end of her dance with a fellow in a Jester Mask, and then quickly abandons the graceful posture of the dancer to cock her hip again and thrust a thumb back at herself. "Oh, you can count on it!" she boasts, of whatever deal they've just made, and now turns about, peering amidst the crowd in search of a newly-commissioned target. That just happens to be an old target! Still, on her way across the floor, she makes a show of weaving between people suspiciously, leaning in as if to pick-pocket, or even brandishing her knife again on one occasion (this time to acquire a little wrapped sausage)!

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a weathered wooden wastrel's mask takes a while to swallow in the costumes from the ballroom's entrance, then begins a meander through it that isn't much of a meander so much as a beeline to the nearest available glass of wine. Thus armed, he makes his way into an alcove to either enjoy the music or give the bards the evil eye, one or the other.

The lady of rose lace tosses back the remainder of her glass and extends her hand to Despair. "I feel as though I've heard this song before. It moves me. I feel it so deeply in my bones."

"You are a marvelous dancer!" Duarte praises about the fourth time Nurie's heel comes in contact with his foot. He wrecklessly peers about the crowd and jolts his partner to one side, "Watch out for that reindeer!"

Someone wearing a weathered wooden wastrel's mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask slips from the dance floor when his partner decides it is time to switch, and as he does, looks in the direction she heads off in. Standing still for a moment, he then begins to pick his way toward the exit.

Someone wearing a featureless pale porcelain half-mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask heads back to the dance floor and once again seh tarts to dance by herself. She peeks over to Duarte at his words, giving him a playful grin. She even stops with her wooden right shoe at his warning.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta is far more controlled when controlled. Less likely to lose his feet like a bird whose forgotten it cannot fly. Less likely to fall to his knees or patter-beat his feet against the distorted, compelling music. He allows himself to be led, his right shoulder almost pressed against the checkered's opposite. "Who can prompt the wind?" he asks. "Does the day?" His head is raised and his mask with it. "The moon is risen and full and is telling us to dance. Something tells us to dance, something just the least bit dire, but only the least bit. Perhaps I am a reflection of the moon tonight, checkered stranger. But I am also no one, wind in the hills, so you do have a say." He moves just that fraction closer, rooting in the stranger's presence.

Tehom soon departs from the presence of the Porcelain Doll, stepping aside without a word and only a gentle press of a hand upon her shoulder, before moving into the wealth of bodies so he might act as a voyeur to enjoyment and long suffering. "I should like an offering, this night. If you wish to present something to me, I shall consider it, and in turn I will give my blessing should I find it satisfactory. Come to me, speak what you offer, and await my acceptance or refusal. For those who do not wish to, you need not, of course," he tells them with the kind of expectation left to those who are devout. Then, he moves to settle upon a couch. The god is at least courteous enough not to take up the whole room's attention by himself.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

The line has been dismissed by Someone wearing the visage of Tehom.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair takes the lady of rose lace's hand, rising to his feet smoothly as he leads her to the dance floor. "Certainly not a bad first impression to have from a song, my Lady." Once they are at the dance floor, he pulls her towards him gracefully enough, even if, true to his word, he's only maybe adequate at dancing. Mostly relying on his partner to carry them through it.

Bereft of a god's presence, the Porcelain Doll observes that fellow on his course elsewhere and then looks down at her umbra-wrapped hand. A moment's consideration seems to decide her: she gathers herself to step towards the Grand Duchess' throne. Tehom's calling for offerings but the black as pitch fabric which has soaked both soot and blood now is held up in offered token to Eleyna instead, draped across the spread crown of her fingers.

Nurie's hand leaves Duarte's just long enough to allow for a last minute escape for the stomping reindeer, her look both apologetic but bubbly as well. She leads the dance over to the side of the ballroom, where she tells him breathlessly, "You've quite tired me out, my lord. Thank you very much for the dance. I shouldn't keep you all to myself!" She glances towards the reindeer, in gentle encouragement for him, perhaps. "And it was lovely to meet you, my lord."

Kyan, a long-legged silver tabby-cat arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask before departing.

Someone wearing a sweetly elegant tree swallow mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is dancing about, having regained her energy from the drink and being encouraged to a bit of playfulness by Duarte's warning. She hears Tehom's words and does her fawn-like freeze once again, seemingly thoughtful. She then trots from the dance floor, going to were the servants put her cloak. She finds a very large sewing basket and starts searching through it. It seems a bit heavy for the woodland creature.

The lady in rose lace is not the best dancer. She knows this but she moves with grace and raw sensuality, the beat beckons this of her. Does she take notice of how it affects others? Not likely. Perhaps tonight she allows herself to be selfish and indulge in the moment completely.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask has left the Scandal Couch.

Eleyna gives the Winsome Reindeer a fond look as she dances off and then eyes the Scandalous Porcelain Doll with lifted brows, head slightly tilted as she silently reaches a hand out for the offered square of cloth, her pale blue eyes never leaving the Doll Mask's face.

Alistair checked composure at difficulty 30, rolling 17 lower.

Duarte bows to Nurie, "Thank you, Mistress Nurie." He spies the frollicking cervidae and chuckles. "I think you spooked her." He pats Nuries shoulder and stalks away, offering a wave as he departs toward the Thirteenth.

Duarte has left the Ballroom Floor.

Duarte has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Nurie has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing A purple-colored spider mask with eight small red-stained mirrors finally is able to calm himself down, and instead takes another drink of whiskey.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask is, perhaps, shorter than his dancing partner. More than likely. But he leads on with grace given confidence but its presence. Motion to the music is natural, now, as he guides himself and the raven; an awareness of their surroundings that helps him to dodge other dancers on the floor. Not that they're moving with any dangerous momentum. He looks into the raven's mask as he speaks, of not the day but of the moon. Another lesson imparted on the one lacking experience but not grace in these quarters. That fraction closer is given and matched. "The moon, then," he decides. "But bright enough so that the dance might be seen." Still, at least, giving the means by which they found the floor to his bird partner. "I've been a no one," he admits. "But tonight we're different birds of the eaves, as you say."

Alistair is standing as he has been for the entirety of the festivities. Dour faced. Watching. Peering. No mask. Only armor. And then it looks as if someone has slipped a dagger right through the weak parts of that Rubicund, the man stumbling forward as he lets out a gasp. He doesn't go down completely, as a gauntlet shifts to his chest. The moment is brief, the man closing his eyes tight and shaking his head before recovering. He looks to the mirrors in the room his hand curling into a fist.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask jerks her head sharply toward Alistair.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask cannot smile, cold painted lips don't allow it. So the giving is a solemn thing for all that it comes from a naked, pearl-rubbed doll whose face has begun to crack. "I would rather my offerings find themselves in warmer hands than those in the distant heavens. For you, your Grace," she murmurs, voice quieter still behind the shield of porcelain. "A little of me in a little of tonight."

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask murmurs something of an excuse to her remaining companion before rising. And, after a bit of consideration on the matter, downs the last of what was in her glass before handing it off to him. And then she begins to move again, a slow waltz for one across the room toward the other side, to where the Thirteenth Guest has set up his little court of shadows. Near the maskless, near enough to catch sight of Alistair's little gesture, that gasp and stumble that draw her nearly to a pause.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask pulls out things of varying degrees of value from her basket, expensive fabrics, a home baked tart, a crown of antlers, hairpins and so forth. She frowns at them all. Finally she finds a basket of planted and still blooming autumn wildflowers. Probably the very last of the season. The basket was small and nestled with in her bigger basket as if often at her side. She almost kisses the petals of one flower. The air right in front of such and then carries it over Tehom's couch.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask gets a basketful of autumn wildflowers from a woven willow basket lined in white wool.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask looks over to Alistair then stands up, looking over then to the vixen and back to the situation, as he moves that way, "You alright?" he asks, cloak shifted about a little as he seems to look to see if he is actually hurt.

Eleyna accepts the gift with all the solemnity it is offered. Once within her clutch, she brings the cloth to her chest and murmurs in that surprisingly deep voice, huskier and richer than her pale, delicate appearance might suggest. "Your gift is appreciated, my dear. It will be safe in my hands. Treasured."

Duarte collapses on the couch a couple feet to the side of Tehom's visage.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars listens to the discussion at the Libertine table. But his attention is divided between the conversation and his whisky, which has dimmed despite his avoidance and, as well, a certain sensory overload at the way the lights dim and the redness grows and blood and bad dreams seem to linger in the faces of those he obverses. He looks, for a moment, as Alistair gasps but more to his gesture. Then it passes and he returns to the table for a moment, eyes fleeting toward the Tehom on the couch. He leans and whispers something to the Horned Goddess.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon rises from her seat as well, murmuring her farewells to those at the table. She begins to move toward Tehom when she sees the stumble from Alistair, and follows his gaze to the mirror. Her eyes grow wide, and she looks to the door to exit, but her feet seem to have other things in mind, and she makes her way to the visage of the god.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

At least the lady in rose lace's partner, Despair, isn't clumsy. His steps might be a little more on the side of mechanical than graceful, but there's some pride in the effortless way he's carrying her through the easier steps of the dance. Alistair's reaction brings his attention there for a moment, but his focus is on his dancing partner afterwards.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask rises not long after the ebon fox, though her movement is slower, her concern more distant and deliberate. She follows in his wake, studying Alistair without much visible expression below the white line of her mask.

Nostrils flare, the High Inquisitor looking about with sharp eyes. A gaze is given to Duarte as the man collapses, Alistair's brow furrowing slightly. Offers of assistance to the Inquisitior are brushed off with a raised gauntlet. "No. I am fine... continue... enjoying the festivites..." he rumbles out as he glances towards some Velenosa guards and Confessors, making motions as he tries to step to the edges of the ballroom.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask folds her emptied hand over her heart. Treasured is a strong word and she must take it as more than courtly reply, because she rises from the knee-down posture she'd taken to sway closer to the Grand Duchess. Her voice dips, a softer comment shared for Eleyna's ears alone, before she makes a very polite withdrawal.

Nurie catches her breath, continuing to watch the dancers, though her gaze is drawn more and more to where The Mask of Tehom sits. Very slowly she begins to move that way, her expression moving from joy to solemnity.

When Despair comes to pause, the lady in rose lace takes a notice of Alistair. Concern washes over her features and she grips Despair's arm. "Go and see if he is in need of assistance."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has left the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers continues to sit where she is for a time, sipping her wine, enjoying watching the festivities, even if they are a bit creepy. The blood red light of the moon shining into the ballroom, the shifting shadows, the dancing figures on the ballroom floor in their flittering costumes, and the sound of that strange discordant music. She watches it all, acutely interested in all she sees, occasionally taking a sip of wine. As the visage of Tehom calls then upon people to come and make him an offering, the masked woman glances over in his direction, and purses her lips thoughtfully. But she lingers where she is, simply having a thoughtful air about her as she observes the festivities. Her gaze watchful of the room, she is probably one who notices Alistair's strange behavior right away. She curves her lips in a slight frown, and taps her fingers lightly against the glass in her hand.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask checked willpower at difficulty 20, rolling 4 lower.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask's head turns, seemingly following Alistair's course across the ballroom. She stays right where she is.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask nods a bit to the Inquisitor, then he notices that the vixen is following him. He nods, while he moves to the couch which Tehom seems to be relaxing, while he waits for the other fox to come with him. Something about all his features seems to be... Less relaxed, it seems like he's waiting for battle, and he seems to be keeping away from anyone that's not the one following him.

Duarte peels himself off the couch and kneels before Tehom - likely instructed to do so as there is a certain reluctance in leaving the comfort of his seated position.

Due, a large hunting dog, Sir Peckingston the Third, a chestnut colored hawk, Princess Sally Acorn, an acorn toting red squirrel arrive, following Elora.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta slows. The music is no less compelling, but either his stamina is limited or he's actually weighing his steps now, deepening his knowledge of grace as he mimics movements he's no natural talent for. He is, as it happens, rather short himself, and built birdlike. Easily carried, even when insisting on more weight. "It is a bright moon," says he, "and tonight one may be seen. As far as one wishes to be seen," he adds, softer. "Tonight, you may roost in any eave you wish. Tonight, even nobodies are kings and concepts." With an air of admission, he admits. "I fade, my good stranger. I must shrug off feathers soon. But it has been good to be in your shadow. Tell me, what eave would you roost in, at the last?"

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a Scandalous Porcelain Doll full-face mask dips into a pretty bow as she clears the space around Eleyna's throne. Upon rising she pivots and finds her way through the crowd. Doll's don't mind a little jostling and she navigates without very much trouble-- except perhaps for a small pang in her finger, which is soothed when that tip is slipped beneath the mask's chin, possibly for placement in her mouth.

Due, a large hunting dog, Sir Peckingston the Third, a chestnut colored hawk, Princess Sally Acorn, an acorn toting red squirrel leave, following Elora.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask falls in beside the ebon fox when he takes the High Inquisitor at his word and moves toward Tehom. Whether invited or not, her fingers curl upon her darker reflection's arm, sliding comfortably--if loosely--above the stranger's elbow. Perhaps to comfort. Maybe to claim. She keeps most of her attention on the ongoing offerings, but tilts her head toward the darker fox, whispering words which carry no further.

Someone wearing a weathered wooden wastrel's mask appears content to linger in the alcove he planted himself in, occasionally lifting his mask just enough to take a sip from the glass. His attention seems mostly focused on the dance floor, though for a time he watches Alistair and those around him.

Duarte has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Nurie has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars eases up from the table in a smooth gesture and adjusts the folds of his coat. He offers his gloved, black hand to the Horned Goddess. "Let's not delay it then, I'll make one as well."

The High Inquisitor finally finishes his journey to the edges of the ballroom, as the party is so large. He speaks lowly with some of the guards and Confessors. Didn't the Inquisition use to wear masks all the time? It seems tonight they are sans mask, far easier to point out then normal. Alistair seems a bit more green in the face, but his focus is now less on the party goers and the mirrors all about. Terrible creations. Who would want to look at their own reflection except for the vain!? He seems to settle back in, watching and waiting...

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask slows to the pace of - rather than the music - rather, the raven. A gradual progression toward a standstill, as his partner's steps become weighted. Weighted closer and closer to stillness. It is in the time to another lesson. Perhaps, as it's toned, the last that he might learn from present company, on this floor. What eave? He doesn't have to think for so long as he might otherwise have assumed. The answer is there. And has been there since he put on the mask. "The eave of the careless," he decides. "And I won't fret over how my dish might be filled tomorrow. I'm live under tonight's moon as though it's the only." As they cease, he inclines his head toward the raven. "Thank you, for your lesson, and for asking me to dance."

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a Horned Goddess mask takes the Steel Beast's hand, drawing back up from her seat with her wine glass between the curl of her fingers. She steps over towards the couch Tehom is taking audience at, her gaze curious; there's not quite enough room for both her and her escort, so she steps ahead of him, settling on the edges.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask settles at the area which Tehom seems to be, with the fox that follows with him. He looks to their way, allowing the touch as he seems to ponder what to do while at the place. He decides then to speak with her while waiting for the masked man to ask about them.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask has left the Shadowy Corner.

Calista gives Despair's arm a squeeze then politely begins to slip away, disappearing within the throngs of attendees to make her way over towards Alistair. Though her voice is soft, she approaches with care. She slips the swathe of lace off her face. "You are ill?" Taking notice of his green pallor. "Let me help you. Isolde would never forgive me if I did not offer assistance."

Duarte has joined the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask ceases to move again not far from where Tehom has seated himself among those come to make their offerings. Perhaps there are more than she anticipated. Perhaps there is simply no room. Either way she lingers a handful of steps away, hands clasping behind her back. More wine is offered but she declines, shaking her head, and in the meantime resumes watching the masquerade dance.

The flowers that the Reindeer passes into Tehom's hand immediately start to wither within his grip. The petals brown and shivel. Yet, in the crimson light that streams through the ballroom, there is beauty in the stasis of death. In the peace of it. As if, in passing, the flowers have come into their true loveliness.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

The High Inquisitor levels one of his intense stares upon Calista as she approaches, though her assistance is not immediately waved off. The man rumbling in a low voice to her as his eyes shift back to survey the party and the mirrors.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask's attention has shifted from Alistair to the woman wearing the silver serpent mask. She appears to stare after her as she leaves for several long seconds, before her head turns away.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta draws his left foot behind his right. He drifts his hand up to touch the side of the checkered half mask, a gentle brush of two fingers. "Good," he says. "This moment is what we have. The moon overhead is real and it is now. Enjoy the light, the hunger, the music, and the dark. And when you wake, enjoy the dawn." He bows, and in bowing withdraws. "Thank you for the dance and the grace. Thank you for listening," he says, and moves to depart.

"Prince Alistair, please." Duarte calls from some distance, retrieving another glass of alcohol. "It's a *party*."

Alistair checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 3 higher.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask is called forward and slips away from her darker partner to move toward Tehom. She draws up the lowest hem of her long dress by the narrowest margin and moves to kneel before the god-masked man, her bearing proud, her shoulders straight, her back artfully scarred, clearly seen in that backless dress. She smiles toward Tehom and speaks softly.

When the flowers first start to fade, the reindeer squirms on her knees and even starts to reach out as if wanting to save them. It takes her a moment to realize the beauty. She sucks in a soft breath and then another breath, her cheeks now pale and her brown eyes once again are deer-wide. Tears bead on her lashes and she seems to adore those flowers so much. She leans into the kiss to her mask, even as tears bead on her dark lashes. "I will keep growing flowers. They are still beautiful. Thank you." She says and rises to her feet. She still has tears on her lashes as she starts away.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

That stare slides to Duarte, as if to say the man has a cage dangling over a large pit just for Duarte. But he doesn't say it. He just glares it.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon draws her eyes up to the red moon coming through the window, before looking back, eyes studying the flowers as they shift and decay before her eyes. She smiles at the reindeer's words, before looking back to Tehom and the fox masked figure before her.

Alone once more, the Archduchess sits on her throne, watching the party around her as she continues to hold that square of umbra in her hand. The expression on her maskless face is quiet and contemplative.

Someone wearing a weathered wooden wastrel's mask polishes off his wine and leaves his alcove, setting the glass down on a nearby table. He glances over his shoulder at Duarte when he lifts his voice and tracks his eyes towards Alistair, then faces forward again and smoothly makes his way out of the ballroom at a brisk pace.

A grin slowly pulls the corners of Duarte's mouth. He tilts his glass toward the high inquisitor and takes his first sip.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon is overheard praising Eleyna: A beautiful, compelling event.

Someone wearing a weathered wooden wastrel's mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Calista converses quietly with the High Inquisitor for a moment but glances over her shoulder when Alistair is called out by Duarte. Her attention returns to man who appears green around the gills.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon is overheard praising Vanora.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask notices that it was Tehom that spoke to the fox, so he seems to wait at the moment. He seems to be watching it all after the flowers.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair approaches Alistair once his dance partner goes to the High Inquisitor first. He comes to stop beside the man and murmur a few words.

Apparently the passing of her flowers is far too much for the little deer. She quickly leaves the party, vanishing back to wherever reindeers go.

3 Iron Guardsmen, 1 Crimson Blades Lieutenant leave, following Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask is still, for the duration of the touch that the raven pays to his mask. And true to the careless, he does not flinch, does not worry after his identity and its safety. He opens his mouth, as if he might say something, but instead, as the raven bows and withdraws, bows in kind, rather than merely incline his head. "Farewell." Deep gratitude, touching the single word. Thank yous exchanged, without a mark of promise to to know one another as they depart the floor, he may be getting the hang of this occasion. Though he stands a little awkwardly, out on the floor, watching the raven go before catching on that he should depart as well. Drifting a little closer, from there, toward a mirror that he might gaze a little closer into. To see himself or to see as the other seem to, strangeness or the surreal.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers eventually rises from her seat, draining the last of her wine. She sets the glass aside, and then she turns, quietly making her way through the ballroom toward the doors, heading out to join her attendants where they await discreetly in the wings.

The discordant strange music starts to fade into a gentler melody, prompting a shift into a slower dance for those on the dance floor. Somber and sadness linger in the swells and eddies of music in the ballroom. For the more sensitive in the crowd, the song might sound like grief.

Someone wearing a delicate mask of satin and pearls with a spray of feathers has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta treads away at a near hobble, departing chance meeting and mirrors. And the first strains of grief.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta has left the Ballroom Floor.

Calista offers a faint smile to Despair. "The High Inquisitor said it was the oysters. I believe he must have read they are an aphrodisiac and naturally to indulge his beloved wife, became a little overzealous. Nothing to worry about ." She pats Alistair's arm then goes to leave.

"Chewing ginger's good, in that case. Safe travels to both of you." Despair affirms to Calista as he rises to his feet, bowing to her and the Prince on his way to the refreshments table.

Calista has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Silk and Steel Lycene Jester Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Alistair pauses as he turns away when Calista reveals the terrible truth and then pats his arm. "Yes. The Oysters..." he rumbles out in such a convincing fashion.

3 Fidante House Guards, Santino leave, following Calista.

"There are oysters?!" Duarte wonders aloud and spins and looks around for them.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask has joined the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask rises with Tehom's aid, her head dipped respectfully. She lingers for a moment, thoughtful, sharp-eyed, before stepping away, attention sweeping over the other masked figures nearby who might have caught her peculiar offering. She looks to see if the ebon fox remains where she left him. And, perhaps, if he'd overheard.

"It is a Lycene party, my lord. I have yet to see a party in the whole Hundred Cities that does not have oysters." Despair comments on his way to approaching Duarte after he's snatched a glass of wine for himself. He doesn't drink it, though. After a brief murmur to the man, he offers the untouched goblet to the Count.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 8 lower.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask eventually ceases dancing with the Jester as he whispers his goodbyes and departs the ballroom. Her masked gaze lingers on the mirrors again briefly, as she stands alone on the middle of the dance floor, but its only a few heartbeats until she moves again with purpose. Approaching the Grand Duchess' throne without much concern for the guards, and perching on the edge of her chair to kiss her cheek. "Yours is the most beautiful visage here. I agree it would be a crime to hide behind a mask." She prepares to slither back away and leave Eleyna in contemplative peace again.

Duarte takes the offered goblet as he leans in to hear Despair. He is now double fisting goblets. He sips from one then the other contemplatively. He nods and replies, "Excellent choices both."

Eleyna lifts her eyes to the red copper mask's and murmurs something with a faint smile on her face before looking over the crowd once more.

3 Armed Confessors, 2 House Velenosa Guards leave, following Alistair.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask finally finishes dancing with Phoenix, and says, "We need a rest." He offers her a quiet smile, and takes her hand, shifting to turn and look at the available couches.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask gazes into the mirror he comes across, for a time. As so many have done before him. Watching for the passage of those around him. For himself. For what surreal strangeness might have befallen others before him. Without concern for the the fact that he'd lost his glass of wine somewhere along his way, even before his dedication toward carelessness. Wild eyes searching a little too intensely, perhaps, seeking rather than unfocusing so that sight might find him. He moves on after a time, again rising to his toes to best see someone that he seeks. A raven or a fox. Masks that he might find familiar amidst strangers.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask has left the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask smiles, a little breathlessly, and heads towards a couch at random. "You may not, My lord Cardinal, but I do," she says softly. Her gaze goes around to those still dancing, those sitting and those talking to Tehom, though she does not head that way. "Thank you for the wonderful idea to come here."

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask seems to agree with Phoenix, given the large number of people surrounding the Tehom-masked one. He motions to options: Misconduct, Scandal, Inviting and Libertine

"Yes," Despair agrees, bowing once more to the Count, stepping back several paces so as to turn around and leave. The fun of masquerades: forgetting etiquette for a hot moment when it suits.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask flashes a grin, and then makes her way to the inviting couches, inviting the Cardinal to come along with her. "Perhaps we might find another drink as well.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask motions to get a pair of drinks on the way, before heading to join Phoenix, sitting next to her.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Vim, the dragon corgi arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing white dragon mask before departing.

The man wearing the checkered half mask doesn't see anything overtly strange in the mirrors. No laughing faces. No horrifying visages. Yet, in the mirror that directly reflects the ballroom floor, he can see a woman and a man dancing a passionate waltz. They have eyes for no one but each other. The face of the woman seems familiar and should. Archduchess Carlotta Velenosa as she must have been in life. Disarmingly beautiful. Dancing as if she's floating just above the marble floor. As for the man she's dancing with... well, it's terribly difficult to get any real sense of what he looks like. He could be anyone with any face. The more one tries to focus on it, the less clear it seems to be. The dancing couple appears to only exist in the mirror for there are none like it on the dance floor itself.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask is overheard praising Velenosa: All that the Eclipse of Mirrors should be. Intriguing to the end.

Someone wearing a silken silver mask in the shape of a crescent moon has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask rises from her seat, moving to the door of the ballroom to make her exit. And it's almost certainly just a trick of the light that, as she slips through the shadows near the door, she doesn't seem to emerge on the other side.

Someone wearing silver serpent mirror mask has left the Decadent Couch.


Leaving Tehom, the lithe figure wearing the crescent moon mask slips away. She watches the rest of the masquerade for a moment, but the music catches at her again, like callouses on silk, and tears spring anew at the melancholy chords. She sobs once, before turning to all but flee the ballroom.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask draws in a sobering breath as her turn draws nearer with relentless inevitability. She lingers a few steps away though, taking advantage of the waiting to finally draw the attention of some attendant. Not for wine; she declines that with another shake of her head, but to send him off on some errand. Her hands unfold so that she might gesture lightly, as if to describe something to him. Or perhaps to point out someone off in the crowd. And then she returns to waiting. For two things, now, with patience belied by the little wring of her hands as they join again.

Nurie has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask leaves the border of the couches, his dance partner accompanying him. With his arm loosely fixed around the woman in the sunrise mask's the pair make their way out with a smooth pace towards the door and out into the red night.

At long last, the foxes part ways for the evening, the darker taking his turn before Tehom as the fairer moves to find her checker-masked friend near the mirrors. Her dress is a little dustier than it had been when they'd arrived, perhaps stained at its lowest hem where the snowy fabric drags on the floor, certainy shadowed ever so slightly where her knees had settled before the Thirteenth. Her smile, however, is unchanged, warm and curious as it had been when last she had spoken with her companion. "You do not disappoint," she tells him, her hand offered out should he care to claim it. "Tell me how you fared, my beautiful blackbird."

Someone wearing a sunrise masquerade mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a silk and leather patchwork mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Nurie moves away from the mask of Tehom, her eyes aglow. It's then that she pauses to look around the ballroom for her lady, and when those tell tale sparkles cannot be seen, she drifts quickly to retrieve the silvery cloak that's been abandoned in the shadowy alcove.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask carries what he sees, in the moment before his departure. And it parses as he walks, guiding his attention back toward the floor. Looking for the dancing Archduchess as he saw her, or one approximating her. Looking for that vaguely seen figure with whom she danced, and finding none that fit the bill - or none that fit it any more than any other. His smile fades, the further he gets - the more he tries to parse what he saw with logic, as a bird once suggested. His pace quickens. "Well," he promises, a touch breathless for dance, and the pace that mirror inspired. He takes her hand. "All that was asked," he adds. As his smile returns before it falls off completely.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask is overheard praising Velenosa.

Sabine had stepped out for a moment and has no returned. Barefoot still, barely concealed still, but maskless. She is short one lady's maid and one cloak. One drop of blood as well but that is not a lack, so much as just a portion of the tally. For someone in so scandalous a gown, she makes excellent subtle progress around the periphery, towards the alcove where she'd first shielded Nurie.

[Fashion] Berenice models 'a Horned Goddess mask' on behalf of Velenosa, gaining a decent number of admirers and significant compliments.

Someone wearing a red copper and leather half-mask steps over near the couches to offer her deepest curtsy to the beloved Thirteenth, holding it for a lengthy moment. When she rises to full height again she blows a kiss at the Archduchess in farewell, and slips out of the ballroom into the shadows of the evening.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checked strength + brawl at difficulty 15, rolling 18 higher.

At the Impropriety Couch, the woman who was the Horned Goddess has become one Berenice Velenosa, Princess of Lenosia, as she removes her mask in offering to Tehom.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a crimson mask of despair has left the Scandal Couch.

Nurie's arrival at the alcove is in perfect timing to Sabine's own, and her peaceful expression gives way to one of elation, just for a moment, her steps quickening to a rush to take the pearlescent hands in her own for a moment, before she manages to bring her expression into one perhaps more proper, releasing the hands so she can take up the cloak, and be ready to settle it about Sabine's shoulders when the COuntess is ready.

[Fashion] With talented modeling, Berenice displays 'Eclipse of Mirrors' around Arx, garnering flattering conversation and murmurs throughout the city about the fine choices made by Velenosa for sponsoring someone with such exceptional taste.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask moves to stand up, offering Phoenix his hand, and pauses to incline his head towars the Archuchess, "A very lovely party. Thank you. Definitely...interesting." His head shifts, cocking towards the crowded corner where the Tehom-masked person is, "Interesting indeed."

Tehom takes the mask from Berenice as she removes it, unveils herself, and provides it to him so he can hold it in his hands. The high quality of the leather mask is slowly ripped tugged on, torn with an effort, until it's distorted and destroyed. A beautiful work of art, the pleasure of Jayus' own, warped. Then, he lays it aside and moves to press his masked lips to the forehead, cheek, and opposing cheek. Then he says, very clearly, "Hide from the shadows if you fear them. Have the gall to unveil yourself when the moment is right. Never play your hand before it assures you the win, Princess Berenice of House Velenosa."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checked dexterity + legerdemain at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom plucks one simple semiprecious stone from the mask and hands it off to a random person. It's cluttering him amongst all the dead flowers. Eugh.

Luciano has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask follows the lead of the Cardinal, getting to her feet. She glances around, sweeping a curtsey towards the Archduchess. "And are we supposed to unmask now?" she asks, curiously, one hand still curled in that of the Cardinal's.

Sabine is finally, finally, able to smile as she gives over her hand to Nurie's keeping. Only a moment but the gesture says much, however faint the effort is. She turns to accept the light weight of the cloak on her shoulders, adjusting the drape of the fabric as the younger woman secures it at her throat. Dark head bends towards darker and a few quiet words are exchanged between the pair, striking in similarity of profile and gesture.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask squeezes the hand which takes hers, offering some touch of reassurance. She studies that flagging smile, but offers no comment. Instead, her curiosity is drawn back toward the offerings given to Tehom, to the unmasked Berenice, what little of her expression can be seen appearing, briefly, thoughtful. Amused, in turn, then warm once more as she leads her checkered companion toward the door. "Would you be so kind as to escort me home?"

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask checked dexterity + artwork at difficulty 19, rolling 14 higher.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask is just now rising from the table where she sits with the shadowy bat masked-lady, the armored 'rogue' tilting her head with some lingering curiousity. "Well, that may be so. I am curious, I admit, though I'll not press - and perhaps it is better that in the end, I do not tempt fate too dearly." Now she surveys what is left of the party, those slipping off with companionship or hastening to find some.

Someone wearing a Rogue's Black Mask has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Eleyna has left the Grand Duchess Throne.

Eleyna has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask is overheard praising Mirrormask: A haunting Eclipse. Elegant and unsettling. Exceptional.

The Grand Duchess rises from her throne and makes her way across the ballroom to Tehom's selected couch, her maskless face as pale as porcelain as she watches the god with an even, respectful gaze. She stands near, clearly waiting for her own turn to make an offering.

Someone wearing a checkered half mask follows the white fox's attention back to Berenice, in turn. But from there there, his gaze goes to the ballroom floor. Again in search of what he now expects not to find. Drawn back in, to the present, and the one who holds his hand by her words. "Of course," he replies. Smile, returning, even as the recent memory keeps its hold. "I think it might be on my way," he adds, for destination. A bold, teasing edge to that comment.

Fajra, Someone wearing a checkered half mask leave, following Someone wearing a sleek, stark white fox mask.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask's patience endures. Or is rewarded. She bows her head to Tehom, but otherwise seems content... though this will pay off soon as her previous dispatch returns, the man carrying a leather bag that looks rather like a large rose turned upside down. Something new for her to do with her hands, perhaps? Not really. She holds it in both like the offering that it is, or that it will be. As the Grand Duchess nears she bows her head again, the gesture somber and respectful.

Someone wearing white dragon mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask smiles towards Phoenix and says, "Well, that's up to -you-. I'm fine with it either way." He's half-watching the people and half-watching the door, when not looking at Phoenix.

Someone wearing Fiery Feathery Phoenix Mask grins, and then waves a hand at the party, though she does remove her mask as she gets to the door so as not to be stirring up the neighbourhood. Which will reveal her identity no doubt at all. But then, Lisebet might not have been all that hidden.

Someone wearing a scarlet woodland cardinal mask will remove his own on the way out. If the Phoenix was Lisebet, then the cardinal would be none other than Duke Harlan Ashford, after all.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars wields a black sword with thorn etchings .

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom wields a black sword with thorn etchings .

That smile is truly the reward of the evening, for Nurie. She helps skirts and cloak settle as well, righting one errand strand of hair for Sabine, surely knocked slightly akilter by the removal of the mask. Indeed even the motions share an eerie symmetry, though perhaps that's merely a trick of the odd lighting and the buzz of the refreshments of the evening on the part of any onlooker. She remains at Sabine's side, murmuring to her occasionally, and watching the going's on quite contentedly from just behind the Countess' shoulder.

Lisebet has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask has left the Libertine Table.

Harlan has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

The black sword etched with thorns is drawn into the metallic grasp, and as Tehom rises, likely many Velenosan guards become suddenly insistent to step forth in anticipation. The breaking of Guest Rite mixed with the obligations of Lycene to respect their favoured god are at war. Tehom lowers the blade to the shadow, then up to the light, then swings it-- up close to the blackened steel beast. As it stops just short of his neck, it is lowered with a smack to his shoulder, half the completion of a knighthood. "The bringing of death resolves a great many troublesome oaths. Others don't quite make that transition. You are freeing men, women and other from their current form, so they may begin again. You are a bringer of justice, or you are a bringer of their commeuppance. It matters little, to me. Do what you are good at, Beast With Burden. Lose a sword today, and regain your morality, for only you will be the judge of what lives you take can be reconciled with and what cannot."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

As the party begins to wind down and people begin making their way out of the ballroom after this strange night, the music takes on a wistful note, longing edging out grief. There are fewer and fewer of those odd reflections in the mirrors. Fewer and fewer strange shadows until it seems as though maybe there never were odd shadows. Just strange lightning. Tricks of the eyes. Only the music remains a last lonely note, as if whatever strangeness visited this evening is reluctant to release its hold on the party just yet.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 3 higher.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask stands up straight when a sword appears, but only until it becomes clear heads aren't about to be lopped off. She settles again, still watching.

Sabine cups a hand against Nurie's cheek, evident gesture of thanks for her fussing, but when her hand settles at her side again she might be cold marble... or a doll left on a shelf. So still, so controlled. Only her eyes move as she watches those still gathered about Tehom. Then, a subtle movement: she rubs the pad of her thumb against a mark on her finger that no longer even really shows. She breathes out and tilts a look complete with a raised eyebrow at Nurie, when it seems the god doesn't intend to take the Beast's life. "...good advice, there."

Fatima turns to slip out a little after leaving the table. She doesn't join those remaining around Tehom, leaving such things to the Lycene locals and his faithful. However, there is a small part of her that just can't help herself from the spirit of the evening, and just as she is discarding her mask on her way out, she casts a fleeting glance at one of the mirrors - as if just to give herself the thrill of wondering what might come of it before she slips from the party.

Someone wearing a blackened steel beast mask with mirror-gold scars stands straight backed. None of that half-lean posture. He faces the dark god as the sword is risen and a swift strike aims for his neck. He doesn't flinch. At least, not on the outside. When it smacks his shoulder, when the advice is given, he inclines his head and moves to lift the mask from his features. Letting it hang from his grip to the side. "Much obliged." With that, he steps back, head tipped in respect, revealed at last to be...

Why, it's Harlex Valtyr.

Berenice has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Harlex has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom seats himself shortly after, to hear his patient petitioners.

With another graceful curtsy of dark, feathered skirts, Berenice steps away from the couch to allow others there space to make their offerings to Tehom. She does keep half an eye on the couch, though, clearly curious to see what the Archduchess will make in offering, but until then her gaze slips across the room as the party begins to wind to something quieter. She reaches for Harlex's hand. "Dance with me."

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask gets A delicately sculpted full face mask in mirrored silver with a deep hood of supple, rose-tanned black leather from a leather pouch shaped like an overturned rosebud.

It doesn't take much to lure him to her side. He does, however, remove his umbra glove (which he cut) and uses the remains to wrap up the small bleeding wound into a nice black bandage. Simple enough. Harlex follows the princess toward the ballroom floor. "Yes," he replies to her request-demand-gift. A steady smile at the corner of his mouth.

Harlex has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Berenice has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Berenice checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 30 higher.

Harlex checked charm + athletics at difficulty 30, rolling 0 higher.

Harlex checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 30, rolling 23 higher.

Someone wearing a shimmering columbina mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Even if her partner is not so trained a dancer, Berenice has more than enough skill to share (and Harlex's natural dexterity and athleticism does seem to take him far). With the music so wistful and longing now, she draws close to him, her step graceful as they move across the floor, helping to guide him in the subtleties of the dance. But then, in the end, she also tucks her cheek to his, eyes closing for a moment, her hand on his shoulder drifting to the back of his neck. It's a raw sort of intimacy left boldly open on the quieting ballroom floor.

Something Nurie has said draws a low hum from the Countess. Amusement, surely, though her expression remains calm. "No, you're right, in that. On all counts." Briefly, ever so briefly, her gaze tilts towards the dancefloor. Then it's to the couch again, to Tehom and offerings and petitioners, and the Grand Duchess left to take her turn. Idly she tugs the cloak about herself-- necessary, with the chill outside and her gown's construction. "To home, Nurie," Sabine says, collecting the maid with a look and then proceeding towards the doors.

It's all footwork after all. His movements surprisingly graceful (or properly accented by his partner's) against the quiet slow notes of the music. The ease of them as the two black-clad shapes move across the floor. Something ever contrasting between beast and goddess. When she draws near, cheek-to-cheek, Harlex smiles so easily. Handsomely, despite those rough-cut features. His hand against back. Fingers tracing hers. Murmured words lost against the lower of her ear. As though they were the only shadows left alive.

The Archduchess remains patient, a faintly bemused smile lingering on her lips as she watches Tehom with those who make him offering and submit to his interesting and unsettling questions. Occasionally, Eleyna's pale blue eyes drift to Harlex and Berenice on the dance floor, a wistful expression held within them as if remembering such a dance of her own once.

Nurie's attention lingers on the dancing pair, though her smile is bright, if gentle. After a moment she turns away, to follow in the Countess' shadow, her steps a near perfect echo.

Nurie leaves, following Sabine.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Harlex before departing.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom answers the imp by saying, perhaps a little too loudly, "To protect that which can do dark is no different from doing what can perform acts of goodliness, the light you so wish to encourage. Balance yourself, and only do what you feel is needed at the time. 'Keeping on', holding onto what feels right, that is an internal debate you must reconcile with. Interally, you are your own judge. The world will speak differently, and you must determine what you value more-- the opinion of others, or the opinion of yourself." Then, with that, he murmurs lower.

As the crimson moon slips away once more, the sun returns to the sky once more; the eerie red hue that has hung over the city slowly fades, revealing familiar streets and buildings once more. The Eclipse of Mirrors is past once again.

Tehom finishes with his whisper, to lean back, and lays his eyes lastly upon Eleyna and bows his head out of a measure of recognition and respect. "Scion of the Marriage between Two Mirrors. A pleasant party," he allows. "So, what do you today offer me?"

There's a quiet in that dance that winds its way across the ballroom floor, Berenice and Harlex lingering close together. But when Berenice hears Tehom call to Eleyna to approach next, her gaze turns to linger there, dark and curious.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask lets her head dip for a minute and exhales, a slow process that seems to bleed away a lot of the visual tension. Eventually she lifts her head again, pushes off the wall, and starts purposefully toward the exit.

With the Eclipse passed, the angles of the world returning right, he couldn't quite say he noticed. The unhurried and pleasing sway of he and the princess causes his bright eyes to shift to hers and notes her attention on the Archduchess and the Dark God. Harlex smiles a bit subtly and whispers something into her ear, which he has at an advantage due to the turn of her features.

Someone wearing a feathered wolf mask has left the Shadowy Corner.

The Archduchess inclines her head respectfully and then, shifting her skirts slightly, lowers herself to kneel before Tehom. In a clear, steady voice, she speaks to fill the ballroom, "I offer a place for you within the Lyceum. Always That as long as my bloodline and I draw breath, the Thirteenth will be accepted as a part of the Pantheon here, despite any efforts that might be made to eradicate your recognition elsewhere. Tonight, I reaffirm the promise made during that first dance long ago between Tehom and Tehom's Chosen. That is my offering."

Perhaps that dance drifts a little closer. There is a vivid attentiveness to Berenice's gaze, even as Harlex murmurs quieter words to her. She is there in the dance with him, but her eyes are on Tehom and Eleyna, sharply perceptive.

"Do not allow the usurpation of my domain, my closest following, my children of the light and dark. The sacrifice I made to be amongst the pantheon should not be in vain, the veil in which the two realms coalesce must be maintained, and should it falter the fiends of the underdark and the champions of the light will crash again harsher than they do now. Remember to recognise the power of both sides, but do not forget the place of the portal, the mirror which divides the worlds. Guard its existence." When Tehom leans forth, he extends a hand to Eleyna, to take her hand. "I won't be forgotten. I will not allow it. If you fail me, Grand Duchess of the Lyceum in Arvum of Elysia, Archduchess of Lenosia in Arvum, Princess of House Velenosa-- I shall return, to never be forgotten again, by choice."

With a lean, gentle and soft compared to the words of insistence, Tehom lays a kiss to the brow of the woman before him. Then he rises, he turns, and he exits.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Harlex continues to sway closely to Berenice and watches her perceptive, dark eyes. He follows them only at the departure of Tehom and then, to the southern belle he says, "Surely knows how to make an exit."

The Archduchess remains there for a moment, watching as Tehom leaves. Her expression is somber as she turns to Sybilla and says softly as she looks upwards at the dome overhead, "The sun is up. I suppose that means it's over."

Duarte spills some whiskey on his shirt. "Shit."

"I suppose that makes the Archduchess his Favored for the evening," Berenice says with a hint of humor as she watches Tehom take his leave of the party. Her gaze drifts then to the windows, the hint of sunlight peeking, the red of the moon now gone. She looks back to Harlex, leaning up to whisper in his ear, and then she steps back, pausing a moment to drop a graceful curtsy to Eleyna, before she takes Harlex's arm to lead him from the ballroom.

Harlex will incline with the curtsy in a respectful bow--no mere nod for the Archduchess. He is led from the ballroom, princess on his arm, and says as they reach the light of the new day. "Well, darlin', you still got my favor." And he grins just a bit. "For what its worth."