Octavian, a silken spaniel arrives, following Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask.

Octavian, a silken spaniel have been dismissed.

Eina arrives, following Someone wearing a periwinkle veil.

Someone wearing A dragon mask of stygian, iridescite, diamonds and rubies has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask languidly makes her way into the ballroom, taking time to make her entrance. She's dressed in a lovely fiery mask matching her equally fiery outfit, with sparkles to boot. She carefully surveys the room in an attempt to make a guess on whether or not she knows anyone within the room, a slight mischievous smirk gracing her lips.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

"Welcome to the Velenosa ballroom" comes the booming voice of the woman with a Black Widow spider mask covering half her face. She is found on the second floor balcony, overlooking the room as a whole, sitting on the Throne of the Archduchess. She leans forward, resting her forearms on the railing, "I hope you find this evening one of excitement, enjoyment, and sin, for truly anything can happen tonight beneath the Blood moon. Know that while you have your mask on, your secrets are safe with me, and all you do will be forgiven. Just please" she pauses, looking around, "if you take a demon home tonight, send us a thank you card."

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame enters the ballroom, with her fair, slender hand placed on the arm of a man wearing the mask of an enchanted moth. Her dark green eyes sweep softly over the crowded ballroom, observing, before she guides her companion with a murmured word and a press of fingers towards a couch. Her head tilts towards the black widow who addresses the room, adding another quiet whisper to her male escort.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask moves easily through the crowd, but there is nothing to give indication to where she looks or what she looks at. The mask covers her entire face as a cloak moves around her. It doesn't seem that she's in a rush to join anyone, standing to the side for now. Her dress is one that looks created from blood moonbeams as she moves with a sensual sort of detachement. For now.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye is unaccompanied, but a beautiful slender young woman, who enters the ballroom to behold its splendor. Her mask a canted crescent moon which shrouds her left eye and further still by the blooming of an iridescite moon flower unfurled in blossom. The aeterna tulle skirt flowers in ethereal motion -- pausing only as the hostess speaks. Something in her words causing a widening of that singular eye and an audible swallow of a lump. She looks around and searches for a place to reside.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask arrives. His costume, such as it is, is of pale armor overlaying a layer of umbra, as if his mask and his half-hidden clothing were of a piece, oozing out beneath the shield of bright. He comes unescorted, he wanders, he exhales. He looks toward the host. "I have not /yet/ managed taking a demon home. Night goals, night goals."

Someone wearing an impish midnight ebon fox mask makes his way into the place, looking about with a curiosity!

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask's entrance is less languid and more enthusiastic. She practically bounds along, the lizard mask hiding whatever expression she wears - but her gait and the expressive movements of her hands as she greets other revelers and compliments their masks makes it fairly obvious that she is excited. Gaze turned up towards the speaker, she makes her way to one of the couches and seats herself, accepting a drink from one of the passing servants.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume calls out in curiosity from among the crowd toward the Widow, "Might there happen to be any gift bags we need to pick up with our complimentary demons on the way out, or do we need to forage our own personal demons up ourselves?"

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil moves through the ballroom. She's given a wide berth in her travels. No, it's not that people are afraid of the starkly white aeterna that covers... well... all of her, and then some. It's more that all that aeterna couture is decorated with columns of quite real, not-strictly-decorative steel spikes. With her wide hat and veil hanging down from the whole circumference, greetings become more about gestures than expressions: a dip of the head to various noble-seeming types, for example, as our Lady in White seeks out a glass of (white?) wine.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia chuckles at the words of the black widow. "And a gift, perhaps." She says with a teasing smile, nudging the raven beside her as she ventures further into the ballroom.

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves strides with authority into the grand ballroom. Rubies, sapphies and alaricite alike all join together to make the grim visage of a predator. The tall figure walks arm and arm with one of the sirens. Clothed in a beautiful blue coat and a matching white shirt. All parts martial and regal at the same time. The jaw of the monster opens and closes as the wearer tests their new jaw. "Heh... Heheh..." From somewhere within, a harsh cackle rolls through its teeth. As the pair step toward the Misconduct Couch, they were followed along by a large feline. The cat was not masked, but it was wearing a large, diamond encrusted fin atop its head. And it hated it. It hated it so very much.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask laughs. "Any demon that follows me home will regret its decisions." She's a tall woman who moves with strength and grace.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls has come early, just to ensure she has a good place to sit, and so that she can watch the parade of people in their fanciful clothing and masks as they arrive. The Siren is seated with her hands folded demurely in her lap, legs tilted slightly to the side with ankles crossed, the flowing skirts of her gown trailing over the edge of the seat like a shimmering waterfall. Her masked face turns this way and that as she watches the revelers arrive, lips curved into a twist of a half smile.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask delicately lifts a brow up at the figure on the balcony, her mischievous smirk only seeming to grow ever so slightly. Rather than sitting, she settles for slinking over to the shadowy alcove, but then just before she gets to it she gives pause and illicits a slight shudder. She decides on someplace else, a flicker, a shadow, a memory perhaps crossing her brow of that particular alcove from another time. Instead, she moves over toward the inviting couches, and settles down, crossing her legs demurely and folding her hands upon her lap. It seems, for the moment, she's perfectly content to simply observe.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon arrived moments before the announcement from the masked woman at the balcony. Her dark eyes lift, partially shielded by the slope of her mask, and a grin curves her lips. She sweeps her hands over her hips, the Bloodmoon hue of her entire ensemble perhaps a bit on the nose for the evening. Grabbing a drink from a passing by servant, she slips into a shadowy corner, allowing the cast of light to add a touch more anonymity to the evening (if her mask wasn't enough).

Someone wearing A dragon mask of stygian, iridescite, diamonds and rubies says from the side, "I suppose there's no returns to defective demons?"

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask enters the ballroom alone. She looks around, knowing only what three of her acquaintances will be wearing tonight. Oh well. perhaps it is time to make new friends! She starts to circle the room, listening for conversations she might add to and waiting for a song she might dance to.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume mentions over to the dragon mask, "I imagine the used demon market will go tumbling over the next few weeks if so."

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures enters the ballroom without her usual fanfare, which she finds odd. She is clad with a mixture of black and white with slight deviations - story of her life. Suitable however, is the tiara on her head, composed with onyx and jet, making an odd statement. "Demons?", she chuckles, "I already have three, I think those shall suffice", she grins and steps toward one of the couches.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters makes not as flashy of an entrance as some others do. The woman looks up when the Archduchess addresses the crowd and there's a bit of smile that quirks her lips up. She finds herself a drink and then wanders towards an alcove for the moment. Deciding that people watching and enjoying the masks and costumes might be the best start to the evening.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures is swathed in darkness as much as the mask she wears in a black gown. She has opted for something without any flash at all, it'd seem. There is a curve of lips in a bit of a smile at the announcement, but she does begin to drift towards the drinks once it is made before going to find a seat.. and perhaps conversation.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures has joined the the winter vixen table.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Arvie arrive, following Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask.

Wash arrives arm in arm with another, "I hope at the end of the night that I leave with the person I arrived with. If I find otherwise, I shall be displeased." His tone sounds amused rather than threatening.

Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

The siren rolls her eyes behind her mask at the cackling, careful in her steps with the train of her dress toward the couch. "You will wake up bleeding." The siren warns the alaricite shark, looking about the room through the strands of beads to the different costumes. The phoenix given a dip of her head before taking care to remove her arm from the sharks and take a seat on the bench.

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak eventually decides to step inside, plucking a glass of wine from a nearby tray. Circling about, she smiles a bit and goes to find a comfortable place to sit.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars glides gracefully into the ballroom, alone, light reflecting off silvery stars speckled over her umbra gown and mask. "What is this talk of demons? A nice rascal or rogue perhaps..." She glances over the seating in an assessing manner, one finger raised to tap against her lips as they curve into a smile.

"You must earn your prizes" The Widowed Host tells the Blue-Plumed Griffon with a grin as she remains on her Throne for the moment. Her hand extends towards the rather disgusting looking inky substance, "if you dare. Would you to be the first to stick your hand it the liquid's depths to win your reward, or would you prefer to wait and see a bit? I could certainly understand if you would prefer not to..."

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters is dressed in deep blues and whites, almost looking like the ocean on a calm night. Hearing the man in the plain mask, she laughs. "I hope to find a demon myself." She moves to find a drink before randomly finding a group of people to talk to.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs has joined the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask makes her way over to the host and her inky substance. "I will. It probably won't kill me, yes?"

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a spidersilk mirrormask fractured by golden orb-weaver shards has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen arrives on the arm of a man in an ivy leaf mask...their costumes clearly not co-ordinated. There's a smile beneath her mask as she takes in the room, pale green eyes settling on the other sirens one by one. "We're all out singing tonight." She comments idly. "Let us greet the Black Widow and then find somewhere to settle." With that she approaches the Archduchess' throne and executes whatever can count for a curtsy in this form-fitting costume. "We're honored to be here with the Velenosa for the Bloodmoon. Thank you for hosting."

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask finds her seat at the Libertine Table. The woman's head turns to follow the hostess' mention to the inky blackness. For now there is just silence as the woman observes. She does roll a pair of black and gold dice in her hand as if to give herself a moment of distraction.

Someone wearing a grisly owlish mirrormask blasted by radial gilded cracks enters into the ballroom with a steady pace and he continues moving through along the edge of the room while his eyes shift slowly over the room. He lifts his left hand up and rubs at his chin for a few moments. When he drops it back down to his side, it begins to tap his thigh with some rapidity but then moves both hands behind his back. He after his brief pause to scan the room, he begins to make a slow pace further in without immediately heading towards anyone.

Someone wearing plain black mask moves to the throne, greeting what is presumably the Grand Duchess with a bow. "Thank you for opening your home."

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil, with a glass of wine in hand -- though perhaps no way to drink it without lifting her veil -- walks towards one of the couches, and remarks in passing, "Tut, tut. It's the demon who should fear me. Though I promise I'll be gentle with him. Her. It." As she steps past the Siren Queen on the way to one of the couches, she dips her head -- the gesture is all hat, by necessity. "Quite a lovely dance you had on the water last night," she says, and then continues on her way before her voice can give her away from too many words.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures settles in at a table once she has wine in hand, choosing a place that gives her a good view of the pool... particularly once it appears someone might be reaching in. "Oh," she murmurs to no one in particular. "good. Someone is going to start."

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a spidersilk mirrormask fractured by golden orb-weaver shards wanders in, head tilting in slow study of the ballroom even as she heads toward a couch selected at random.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars approaches the throne area and curtsies. "This is starting to shape up to be a most... interesting night."

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves would make that precious metal twist and turn from beneath the monstrous, almost macabre imitation of a deep sea predator. "It is only traditional to shed blood for the Blood Moon." The voice is deep and hoarse. Oh dear. He's putting on a /voice/ for the /costume/ too. "Heheheh... Look at me. Look at all these /teeth/ I have." He bends forward to regard his feline companion. She glared back at him with her one remaining eye. The shark fin did not make this any easier. "I want to look in a mirror and tell my other self to fuck off."

"Thank you, your Grace for this event." Black and white zirconia greets the Archduchess, at this point not concerned with keeping her identity under wraps. "It truly means so much to myself and my fellow mirrormasks that you put so much effort into this night." She grins.

The man in the ivy mask nods in agreement at the Siren Queen on his arm, and walks with her toward the throne of the Archduchess, a slight smile curving his lips. Bowing is easy for him, which he does for the Black Widow before speaking, "Good evening, and thank you for hosting. It is a pleasure to be here."

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask inclines her head graciously to the Sirens Song persona, offering her a warm smile. She turns a moment when someone joins her couch and then almost instantly leaves, giving them a bemused look. "I would think should any demon follow me home they'd likely be burned," she remarks to the room at large. "Phoenix are not known to be soft and feathery."

"There's plenty of them. Go enjoy yourself. Just don't get lost sitting in front of one again and chatting the night away." She cautions the shark softly before watching the room, chin lifted and back straight.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments enters alone. As she comes into the room, she sweeps her head back and forth as if scenting something.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes arrives, her bare hand resting atop the arm of her tragic counterpart, the lovelorn petrified lover. Elegantly, the imposingly heartbreaking couple powers into the room. The lady a breathtakingly ruthless sea of emeralds and gold, whilst her petrified lover a dazzling display of pale stone hues, and purples. Together they are a mythical remembrance to the painful unrequited love most nobles suffer.

Peri's laughter at something Eina says causes her periwinkle veil to flutter. It's an uneasy night and they have the look of kids on a dare though it's long past days when they were spooking each other with imaginary tales of mirrorspwan. Instead of showing off elegant fashions these two drift to the side and kick back against the wall to watch people. The tall woman in white with heels that could kill evokes a raised brow. Peri nudges Eina and points with her chin. "Wow."

Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head moves through the room with a woman wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia, a creamy-white raven perched upon her feather-shrouded shoulder and trailed by a beautiful, taller man painted in gold - and wearing little else. To watch this mirrorsilver-masked woman is to see pure sensuality: There is more nakedness than than 'clothes' to her 'costume' of feathers and - where one can notice it - aeterna. The barely-dressed woman moves with the grace and elegance of a dancer, seems unbothered as that mask moves slowly, carefully to peruse the room - much as that squawking, disturbed bird whom she hands off - along with her feathered cloak - to the gilded man.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen turns to the woman in White. "Thank you so much for saying so. And for attending. It was an utter delight of an evening. The sharks were hungry." She leans in to murmur something to the man in the ivy mask, and draws him towards one of the couches.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask tips her head in a way of consideration. There is nothing that truly stands out too much about her outfit or her mask. The only one that might is that it's a replica of Julietta Velenosa's. The details to that are given as if studied or gifted to her. Her hands are wrapped in black inky gloves, her umbra cloak shadowed, and her brocade gown superb. It seems though that she is quite enraptured, by the turn of her head, to watching the various masks and costumes enter.

The Griffon's head cants to an angle in a gesture that manages to look appropriately avian, though whether it's a personal tic or an affectation is another matter. He wonders in the direction of the Widow, "If I wasn't willing to make a fool of myself I doubt I would be here right now." He pads over on feline boots toward the inky substance, craning his head closer with a soft click of his tongue.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask's deep blue eyes follow the ebb and flow of guests throughout the hall, until they settle on the inky, frightening pool. She tilts her head - back and forth - and finally rises tentatively.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask steps in smooth alongside the hissing snake masked woman with a a turn of his head to show off the petrified form of her love. Behind the mask, a crease of his eyes follows as fingertips of his rest upon his elbow where her hands crook in while the two make their way in further. "Our thanks to the hosts." A bow of the petrified man's torso follows to the main throne before footsteps continue as the trapped man finds somewhere to the side.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has joined the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs dips her head towards the man in the plain black mask, "you are certainly welcome. I will welcome any who enter my home till the sun rises, and then any who have remains are at my mercy. Please do try not to sleep in the shadows." Turning her attention then to the woman wearing the seaglass-shattered columbina mask "wonderful!" She stands from the Throne, leaning rather dangerously over the edge to watch, "when people are ready, do let the attendant know so they might explain the rules." As people approach, she then smiles towards the person in the Ivy Leaf mask "I do hope you dont regret attending."

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has left the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has joined the Inviting Couches.

Wash nods to the hostess and meanders toward the inky pool, collecting a drink along the way. He asks an attendant about the presence of the liquid, it's purpose etc.

Someone wearing A dragon mask of stygian, iridescite, diamonds and rubies has left the The Immorality Couch.

2 Ivory Shields leaves, following Someone wearing A dragon mask of stygian, iridescite, diamonds and rubies.

Adjutant General Vincenzo di Malvici, 6 Malvici Guards arrive, following Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask glances over at the person in the Umbra Mask as they join her. She offers a warm smile, and a quiet comment.

Adjutant General Vincenzo di Malvici, 6 Malvici Guards leave, following Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

A small adventure presents itself in this pool, and the woman in the Bloodmoon mask slips from the shadowy corner to place herself in the path of mystery. Others have already volunteered their hands for dipping, and so she waits, drinking her wine more quickly to free her hand. That she has another, emptier hand doesn't seem to occur to her. Gulp gulp.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters comes up beside the man in the plain black mask, her own curiosity about the pool piqued. She asks him as she hands him a glass of red wine. "Feeling daring? Or do you think a demon is in there?" Glancing to the man in the shark mask, she murmurs to her companion, "At least you know you'd be safe from at least one shark."

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a spidersilk mirrormask fractured by golden orb-weaver shards rises from the couch she sits upon, webs of gilded chain shivering as she makes a mock salute to the moth, flame, and smoke and blood masked people who'd been sitting with before ambling over to the line of people forming at the inky pool.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Dreya, an older woman in Velenosan livery, Ailfryd, a tall, thin man with a haugty air arrive, following Saoirse.

As the attendees filter into the ballroom and the masquerade begins, the winter moon, as seen through the ballroom's windows, is still a pale, silver disk in the sky. Only the faintest of crimson blushes has touched the moon's pale cheek, a mere shadow of the veil of blood she will wear shortly.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures takes another sip of wine, watching as new arrivals make their greetings to the hostess. When the instructions are given to speak to the attendant for the pool, she gives a thoughtful look to the inky depths before deciding to gather their attention to place her own fate on the line, as it were. Then, she settles in to watch and wait.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask rises from her seat at the inviting couch, promising to be back soon, she wanders her way over to to the pool the black widow spoke about earlier. It also gives her a chance to show off her costume for the evening.

The impish fox makes a way about to look at the place in thought, taking his time to enjoy things while he drinks from a wine.

"I forwent an arm this evening so I could sit and enjoy. I have been resting all day. I am sad I missed the party. I was stuck in a fitting at petal's shop." She looks to the shark and then the little shark then to the room. "Who is who do you think?"

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask stands with a regal appeal as she moves over to join those waiting to put their hand in the inky pool of the unknown. The colors of the blood moon already color her gown, but with the real ones starting to show, her head turns in that direction.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia tugs her partner by the arm, gesturing to the inky pool. "Fascinating." She says, her lips curling. "I wonder what one could hope to expect if they try." She chuckles lightly before turns to the ballroom's moon. She leans in to whisper to her companion's.

Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing Ivy Leaf mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters turning her attention to the woman in the Phoenix costume, she coos, "What an amazing dress."

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars wanders back over toward the pool with the woman in the fiery phoenix outfit, her long skirts making a bare whisper as she moves. Silvery stars on the garment sparkle a moment as she passes through some of the moonbeams shining through the window.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask checked luck at difficulty 7, rolling 17 higher.

The lizard saunters in the direction of the pool as well, but while the attendants are occupied with those who got there before her, she pauses by the ebon fox, touches his shoulder and bows. "That mask is wonderful," she says, the smile still audible in her voice. "It makes me glad to know I'm not the only one here tonight who's chosen a more ... earthly animal to showcase."

Stepping smooth across the hall, a dip of his chin to a servant passing by for a drink while a hushed murmur is made to the person in a costume of hissing snakes, the lovelorn lover continues to the couches towards the side. A rest of his right hand upon heart, a curl of his lips to the one in the umbral waves. "A fine evening."

Why is Saoirse Velenosa not wearing a mask. Whatever the heck! She makes her way with all the self assurance of a royal doing something unexpected (which is to say, a shitload of it) to the table full of booze and parks there.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a haunting feline mirrormask fractured by coruscating starlight tears glides into the magnanimous ballroom with shoulders squared, passing a glance this way and that to admire the spectacle that the bedazzled party-goers make. After a pause in step and quick pass over the hidden faces, perhaps in search of one which might trigger some memory, the woman abandons her task and continues on to inhabit one corner of the room which commands a more exciting view of everything.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures steps up to the pool once her turn is called, handing off her wine to someone (likely, perchance, hoping they will refill it on her behalf). She hesitates only briefly before plunging her hand into the darkness of the inky waters and there's a visible shudder in her tall frame before she withdraws her hand and turns it over, opening her palm to stare down at what she holds in her palm. There's a somewhat surprised circle made of her mouth before she steps aside to allow the next in line their turn.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil stands by the couch designated for decadent souls. 'Stands' is key here, because it would be incredibly rude to come into someone's home and sit on their fine furniture when one's dress is laden with sharp metal spikes. Luckily, even the barest amount of decorum means that upholstery is safe. She converses quietly with a pair of Sirens, but her head keeps turning towards the pool, watching those who try their luck. The all-encompassing veil masks any specific reaction... but the continued looks certainly indicate interest.

Someone wearing a haunting feline mirrormask fractured by coruscating starlight tears has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves chatters his metal teeth. Chomp, chomp, chompchompchomp. "Hissssss." Sharks do not hiss, but apparently this one does. "I'm having fun." Both of his clawed hands raise up to either side of his leather snout, where he observes both of them from beyond his ruby gaze. "I am the apex." He's really getting into this a bit /too/ much. Suddenly one of those gnarled, silvery fingers juts out toward the inky pool the others were gathered around. "What's that? Are they bobbing for apples over there? You can hardly do that in a mask. Luckily, I am aquatic..." Craning his head back toward the pair at the Misconduct couch, the shark chatters once again. "Be right back." With that, the creature begins to theatrically shamble its way toward the pools.

Someone wearing a grisly owlish mirrormask blasted by radial gilded cracks takes a glass of wine and drinks heartily from the glass. He begins to make his way through the crowd as he moves away from the wall, his head turns from one side to the other taking an admiring glance at the different costumes while not making comment to anyone as he passes.

Reedy, a King's Own aide arrives, following Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia smiles faintly at raven's head before approaching the inky mass, draining a glass of wine before she does so, to try her luck.

Reedy, a King's Own aide have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask reaches into the inky depths, jumping around whatever she feels in there. When she withdraws her hand, there's a large opal in it. "Lovely... but gods and spirits, something in there /bit/ me!"

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak crosses her long legs and watches, sipping her wine. Rising to her feet, she decides to make her way to inky black pool.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards walks into the ballroom in a confident stride, one arm wrapped around the woman wearing a a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work. The blonde smiles brilliantly and readily takes a drink for herself, which she tastes immediately. "Oh my, the party is in full swing already! I do hope we have not missed anything important. What party saves the best for the start anyways?" Tugging on the brunette's arm, the blonde readily guides the two of them towards the ballroom proper, where they can dance and not just stand around and socialize. Who needs that?! "No, no. You promised me. Now you shall give me this dance, or else!"

As the blonde finds ways through the crowds and finds where the dancers oughta be, even if the night is meant for chaos, she turns around to engage with her partner properly, one hand on the Chaotic Black Widow's hips as she tilts her head. "Come on. Show me how your folk does this. You don't want me showing how it is done from where I come from."

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon steps up to the pool, her hands free from wine, emboldened by the quickly consumed beverage. She listens to the attendant's warning, wiggling her fingers once at him in defiance, and then dips her hand past the surface. A little wriggling of her wrist and her hand closes around... a bone. She withdraws it, and for a moment it looks as if she might throw it back. But no - she steps aside, carrying with her the pristine white bone, teeth-marks and all. "I will keep this," she declares for no one but herself. "Simply for the array of jokes it might be used in later."

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask cranes her neck this way and that as people start going through the line for the inky pool. "Oh, there seems to be some lovely things in there. Though, I do wonder why the liquid is all dark and murky..." this she says to the woman in the Umbra mask that followed her up.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars turns as she waits beside the Phoenix at the pool so that she can watch the others scattered here and there around the room.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures finally returns to the winter vixen table... and with a renewed glass of wine. She still stares at what she pulled from the pool and some may see it as she passes: a diamond. Retaking her seat, she finally.. tucks it down somewhere in her cleavage. That's a safe spot, surely. Frees her hands, at least!

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon turns to return to the shadow of her corner, only to find two figures there already! She waves the bone in her hand at the two of them, almost threateningly. But it turns out it is more part of her lament, "Lost my place of voyeurism for a bone." A dramatic sigh, and she spins to find herself another place to watch.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work is in no hurry herself, walking alongside her companion as her steps carry her into the room, her easier pace slowing the woman in the mask with the dusk splintered shards a little. "Wasn't it just yourself that said the best things are not saved for the start of the ball?" She asks, her tone amused as she drags her heels, quite literally probably given the insistence of the smaller woman trying to pull her out onto the dance floor. "My folk don't." Is her simplse flat reply, though there's a whisper of that amusement still in her voice.

Saoirse has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures excuses herself from companions at the couch for a moment as she makes her way toward the pool on her own turn. When she reaches the pool, her eyes gaze down at it in interest. Almost fascination. She reaches down into the murky water, not the least bit worried and moves her hand around until she grasps something. She pulls her hand out to find she found a piece of silver metal. "Oh! How lovely!", she is pleased. Offering a curtsy to the hostess she returns to her couch of the night.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls remains seated on the Decadent couch for now, conversing with the Siren Queen, and Spikes. She occasionally sips a glass of wine, her hand graceful as it lifts the glass, then lowers it. Her voice is lost amid the buzz as she speaks to the others near her. She, too, occasionally watches as people drift over to drink from the pool, her attention divided between them, and the people she converses with.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame's forest dark gaze slides over the ballroom, lingering on the sirens for a moment and then on the woman in the bloodmoon mask, before it returns to her companions with quiet words of observations.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye sits poised with a ladylike posture upon the Impropriety couch. Her wineglass held somewhat awkwardly between her two hands, offering a congratulatory smile to the sinister volto as she returns with her silver metal prize.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing plain black mask lingers by the pool head angled such that perhaps he is trying to see if there is anything... moving... in the inky water.

Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head leans towards someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia, the masks lingering in private conversation. The woman's toned body slinks slowly, undulates beneath that heavy mask, her pile of wild feather-and-iridescent-glass-infused brown curls shifting across the blades of her tanned and naked back. Every ripple of movement from this womanly body fringed in feathers shouts the wearer's name - but whoever could it be, with so many sensuous, lovely and seductive creatues in Arx?

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards tilts her head at her companion, and places a hand upon the nigh-exposed hips of her companion for the night. Gripping the curve of her partner, the blonde grins brilliantly. "Very well. Then I will guide, but afterwards you cannot complain about a thing! That is the deal." What deal? Who signed on this thing?! Apparently, the Chaotic Black Widow when she first decided to walk in here with the blonde glued to her side. As the dance begins, it seems like the two of them are quite content with talking in a tone that turns their voices into whispers, even if the confident dancing style of the blonde is nothing if not attention grabbing. Swift and determined changes of footing that seem to almost aggressively back the brunette into a proverbial corner, she then leans upon her partner, one tan leg wrapping around her companion's like a cobra. The dance, supposed to be fast and intense, is interrupted often by mistakes made by one or both of them, as the blonde tries to teach her partner how to do it. The result is not sexy, but it is something. Who says getting embarassed isn't part of the Eclipse's customs?

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask steps up to the inky, murky pool for her turn. "So, here goes. . . " and in goes her hand. She feels around a bit and then she goes still a moment, puzzlement touching her brow. "Well, that's interesting." She tries to pull her hand out, but it seems stuck. And, it's stuck for probably longer than she'd care for. She does eventually get her hand out of the pool, and there's something in it, but she doesn't check to see what it is right away. Rather, she's moving away from the pool rather quickly, giving it a long mistrustful look.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask inches closer to the pool. With every person who retrieves a prize (or gets stuck), her fascination seems to grow. "Are you all right?" she asks the phoenix who has just had her turn, tilting her head up with some genuine concern touching her voice.

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak watches the people put their hands in the inky black water. The urge to scare someone strong. She however sits back, looking comfortably. Her eyes watch from behind the mask, inquisitive.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia steps toward the inky mass, their smile spreading as they bend over to stick their hands into the inky mass, their focus indicating they may have spotted something. She withdraws her hand, the ornament she holds almost glowing as she studies it. "Yes!" She says with glee before turning to her companion, waving the mirrorsilver to her.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye's eyes widen as her couch companion goes to /mingle/ with such social /boldness/. She does not quite possess this trait, mouth ajar if briefly in bafflement. She sips from her wineglass, sips in fact until its empty and sets it aside with poise. As another passes by on a tray, she requisitions it, and maintains her vigil from the Impropriety. Keeping it dutifully warm.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon still holds to the bone she won, a now prized possession. But that does not stop her from seeking another glass of wine. She slides the bone into the collar of her dress at her shoulder, the morbid prize tucked for safe keeping. Fingers find next the stem of a wineglass, and she moves through the crowds with a languid ease, taking the occasional sip of her wine as her dark eyes sweep. For a moment they meet the one in the alluring flame, the arched brow behind her own mask missed for the coverage, but she lifts her glass in salute.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures sips at her wine, almost absently, as people take their turns... until the phoenix. -That- is interesting: the stuck hand. She leans forward, almost out of her seat, waiting to see if the fiery bird might get pulled in further or... ah, she got free. The tall woman settles back down and seems like she might be almost disappointed by it.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen looks to the guests plunging their hands into inky pools of water, and those dancing, taking in the scene from behind her mask as she chatters in low tones with the others nearby.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls continues to converse quietly with those at the Decadent couch, but she does pause briefly as she catches sight of Phoenix and her behavior at the pool. Tilting her head slightly, she sips her wine once more, a thoughtful air about her. She does not approach the pool herself, however. She remains seated for now, lightly conversing, and occasionally casting a discreet glance out the windows to catch a glimpse of the beginnings of the eclipse.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume finally wanders away from the inky black pool, humming a tune and shifting his hands in a roll of resignation. Off into the crowds, to find some poor victims to pester!

Rises from the couch, careful, very carefully, departing from the couch and the lion there to accompany the shark toward that dark pool and peer in curiously.

Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head laughs softly to the woman in a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black an dqhite zirconia, barely heard by those not in her immediate vicinity. "Congratulations. Of course, you are lucky. Shall I try next?"

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters has come beside the man in the plain mask, a murmured tease to him, "How vexed would you be if I pushed you in?"

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask looks up at the dancing for a few moments. Then her head turns to the pool. However, sas she waits her turn, it seems that she is speaking to her table mate. The Julietta Velenosa replica mask doesn't really let much be gathered. She is rolling a pair of black dice in an attempt to tempt her table companion though.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing plain black mask starts slightly as he is addressed. "More vexed than you would be surprised if I jumped in for a swim." He says quietly.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask inches closer to the pool. With every person who retrieves a prize (or gets stuck), her fascination seems to grow. "Are you all right?" she asks the phoenix who has just had her turn, tilting her head up with some genuine concern touching her voice. (re for Phoenix)

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia seems unperturbed by the inky substance still in hand, probably because her garb is stain proof. "Do it!" She says nudging her companion with her clean arm before handing the mirrorsilver to her maid for safe keeping.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars watches as the group around the pool dip into it or study it. She smirks a bit and casually takes a napkin here, a hand towel there and folds them, holding them ready to blot and wipe any drips or moisture from the process of groping around in opaque water for mysterious 'treasures or things' that might be lurking within. She passes one of the towels over to someone wearing a fiery phoenix silk mask.

Someone wearing a spidersilk mirrormask fractured by golden orb-weaver shards has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures sips at her wine, almost absently, as people take their turns... until the phoenix. -That- is interesting: the stuck hand. She leans forward, almost out of her seat, waiting to see if the fiery bird might get pulled in further or... ah, she got free. The tall woman settles back down and seems like she might be almost disappointed by it. (also re for phoenix)

Someone wearing a grisly owlish mirrormask blasted by radial gilded cracks continues to wander about the ballroom after some time makes his way back out of the ballroom. He gives a brief parting comment here and there before his departure.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask glans over at the emerald-encrusted lizard, "I am. I think. Perhaps." A pause, then she notes. "It was like the pool was trying to claim me," she admits. "So be careful." She settles back down at the innocent couches, still giving the pool a mistrustful look.

Someone wearing a sirens song of sorrow has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters laughs to the man in the plain mask, "See. That would mean I'd be surprised and currently, I am never surprised by you." She playfully teases him, "I'm unsure if you could surprise me anymore."

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work isn't clumsy, but she definitely does not know the dance that her companion is trying to guide her through. Not at all. So there are quite a few mistakes from her, and some laughter, though it's strained laughter, not the loose hearty sort of someone genuinely amused, but more someone embarassed at their own lack of ability. "I must have failed to read the invitation properly. What ARE those people sticking their hands into?" She turns her masked face back to face her dance partner before she lets her eyes wander around a little. "I... think I see some of my family amongst the crowd, though I am not certain. There are so very many masks."

A hushed tone of laughter escapes from the snared, terrified lovelorn masked man as he steps once more with the hissing snakes. Playing his part in this act. Stepping on smooth in time with the shorter lady across the ballroom once more to take his spot opposite her, hand rolled forth. "Might I be blessed, nay honoured and fortunate, for a dance. My captor?"

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes has joined the Ballroom Floor.

The little emerald lizard laughs, shaking her head at the fiery phoenix. "I suppose it could have been worse," she says. "But I can't imagine how. And I thank you ... if I get stuck myself, I'll have only me to blame."

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak hears a lovelorn mask and subtly twitches behind her mask,"Gods above,"finishing her wine.

Someone wearing plain black mask sounds skeptical of pools 'claiming people'. "It's a clever game, engaging to watch as it is to test one's luck." He approves of the concept, just doesn't attribute any intention to it. "The ink hides a contraption of some sort that might trap one's hand. Probably triggered by a casual touch or lifting some object."

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Narses arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask before departing.

Saoirse has left the Shadowy Alcove.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Dreya, an older woman in Velenosan livery, Ailfryd, a tall, thin man with a haugty air leave, following Saoirse.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia gestures to the dance floor, after taking another wine glass from a passing servant. "I'm going to dance. Do you want to join or were you going to stick you hand in goo?" She says with a grin.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask also goes to watch the other party-goers digging around in the inky pool.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters presses a hand against the small of the plain masked man's back. Almost a little casually, but possibly with a touch of threat with their conversation as it is, "Imagine what would happen with your whole body?"

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask pulls away from the shadowy alcove, with the woman in a distorted mirrormask at his side. He takes off his white glove, then rummages through the dark pool. He laughs as he does. Quite delightedly.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes's lips curve upwards, thrilled as she faces her (much taller) victim, in the dance floor. "You may, my beloved offering.~" She says, before making a proper courtesy, and joining her tragic lover in his stance.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures overhears the man in the plain black mask in his theorizing and takes a long drink of her wine before gesturing at the pool. "I think you should take a chance before you make your decision," she calls.

The woman in a periwinkle masks, in leathers, walks up to the woman veiled in white and covered in spikes. She waves an arm at her torso. "I think I'm dressed for a dance with the likes of you." Her eyes crinkle. She glances the woman up and down with a question and leans in.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask moves over to take her turn in the pool. Perhaps she is channeling the Velenosa that she is dressed like, for she moves with an elegance and temptation that only the Southern Beauties seem to fully excel. She slides off one of her very black gloves as she dips her hand into the inky blackness. For a few moments, there is nothing. Then she pulls out a piece of ..... wood. There is a full laugh behind the mask that conceals her features. "I never do well at these. At least this time it was not my soul." She nods her head towards the hostess and offers, "Very well played." Then with a sway of hips she moves back to her table with her 'reward'. She seems quite enchanted with the wood. Her body lowering back to her table companion. "It seems the game is ... hard." She knocks her hand upon the wood. "Have you thought upon the wager?" Then she goes more quiet to keep the conversation between them.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask takes the towel from the Umbra masked person, offering a light nod of her head and a quiet word of thanks. She then proceeds to dry off the hand that was in the inky murk. As she does, she realizes she did actually pull something out of it. "Oh, a bit of seaglass," she says with wonderment. "Well, I'm glad it decided to give me something rather than eat me." She looks back over to the pool. "I wonder if it's possessed by demons. I was certain it might eat me for a moment." She looks to Umbra, "What about you?" she asks, curious. She makes certain she's well and settled into her seat and takes stock of who else is in the bench as well.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards stops the dance with the Chaotic Black Widow. The stop is abrupt, but seems to be part of the dance, complete with a foot stomp as she stands stiffly before her partner, hands on her still. "There is no family here tonight, nobody is themselves, we are all somebody else, my dear, tempting spider. Tonight you can be something else, and you should."She leans in to give her partner a peck on the lips. "It is all in the invitation, trust me. As for what they are sticking their hands into? That is the spit of the Leviathan, my dear, black as tar, dangerous like nothing else you will find in any of the waters of the Lyceum. They say each hand dipped into the oily substance is a caress to the monster's sleeping girth." Eyes flash wide but she smiles, with a shrug. "I have not a clue. I am no alchemist. Looks like paint to me. What do I know? Do you want to try? We should try that. Everyone is having so much fun!"

Moving around the ballroom involves holding the Chaotic Black Widow's hand and tugging her along. Some people need to be forced into having fun! AS she approaches the woman in a Bloodmoon mask holding her bone, the blonde smiles. "How do we partake?"

The festivities continue with dancing, revelry, and the game afoot as the masked guests take turns reaching in the pools, hoping for a prize. As they play, the moon undergoes her change. From silvery pale to red to finally blood red at its zenith. Ruddy light spills in from the domes overhead, painting the ballroom in hues of crimson and scarlet. The mirrors in the room seem to gleam all the more brightly in the reddened shadows. Occasionally, a guest flinches as they spot a shadow in the corner of their eye. Some find that their drinks, placed in one spot, are found again in another... if they are found at all. Some the mirrors carry more reflections than those before it to cast them.

Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters walks easily with the man in the stygian soot dog mas, her steps light and there's a bit of a moment where she watches him through the lenses of the mask. She looks to be a bit more squeamish of the black inky liquid than he does. But she watches him with his delighted face and it makes her smile.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has left the Inviting Couches.

"In wine?" the Bloodmoon woman blinks as she's found herself directly in the path of two masked women. "You simply grab a glass and go..." she directs them with a grin, and then tips her glass to her lips to demonstrate. "But if you mean the bone?" She reaches slender fingers to pluck the bone from its place of rest at her shoulder, and waves it in front of them enticingly. "I would gladly give you mine - or you can simply step up to that pool, stick your hand in, and try your luck!" She leans in to whisper to both Chaotic and her companion, "Be warned... there are things that bite in there." And she snaps her teeth together to demonstrate.

:rises from the couch as the blood red of the moon spills its shadows over the ballroom. Her fingers twining into the hand of the man in the moth mask, she leads him out to the dance floor without looking back, her chestnut curls catching the light as she steps into his embrace to dance in the moonlight.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame rises from the couch as the blood red of the moon spills its shadows over the ballroom. Her fingers twining into the hand of the man in the moth mask, she leads him out to the dance floor without looking back, her chestnut curls catching the light as she steps into his embrace to dance in the moonlight.

The little emerald lizard takes her turn at the pool. Down she sinks her arm into the mirky black liquid and for a moment all seems well. Then she screeches and leaps back, dripping black from her hand into the pool, a piece of bone in her palm. It's probably a good thing her face isn't visible. She scuttles backwards, laughing, with a slight hysterical edge underneath. "Oh my! /That/ was not a contraption of any sort!" This probably to the man in the plain black mask. "There's something in there!"

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask approaches one of the mirrors, examining herself and the reflections carefully. Or maybe she's just terribly vain.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia gives Raven's head a nod, before heading off to the ballroom, before pausing en route. She glances toward the mirrors as they begin gleaming in the light, though she doesn't seem perturbed, just transfixed.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures appears to be slightly lost and she also lost her drink. Well, you cannot always win, it seems.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask's fingertips rest upon the hissing snakes' hip as his right hand gathers into left before leading smooth across the dancefloor in a slowly paced waltz. Right foot stepping forward into his dancer partner's presence before his right hand lifts above the hissing snake mask to twist, pivot and allow the partner to spin.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen pauses in her conversation with a moment of reverence, her pale green eyes shifting to the mirrors from behind her mask. "Perfect. There is no time more beautiful."

"Could drown a man. Fabric might be pulled into gears and trapped, stopping the device. Pity to break such a device when they put so much work into it." The plain-masked plain-spoken man replies to the star-scorched mirrormask. "I'll give it a go." He bares an arm inside the voluminous cloak that covers him and dips an arm in, questing for something. He brings up sharp glass with a smile, then stick his finger in his mouth. "Cut myself." He explains.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Stands near the pool, peering in to see what all is being plucked out. There's a moment where she turns away from the that pool though and glances to the ballroom floor, soemthing of a wistful look on her face.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth appropriately follows the flame, prowling around her with graceful movements as if he'd be hovering while he follows her to the dance floor, his hand in hers.

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters suddenly wanders off towards a mirror, her gaze inquisitive of what she'll see. Her fingers play along the length of her locket as she looks into the mirror.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures gets to her feet properly once everything shifts under the moon. She sets her glass aside -- surely to never be seen again -- and moves towards a mirror. Perhaps to see her reflection. Perhaps to chance. Perhaps to see the cast of red as it flickers throughout the ballroom.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars says, "Me? I'm still awaiting my turn." She replies to the Fiery Phoenix. "I don't mind waiting though, it is fun watching those dancing...and ohhh, look at that flood of red moon light filling the room.""

Someone wearing smoke-and-blood raven mirrormask bisected by a stiletto beak has left the Scandal Couch.

"It would be lovely to dance," someone in a fiery phoenix silk mask says in a wistful tone, although she stays settled at her bench. "Just be aware that it might try to suck you in. And, more importantly, don't panic if it does," she suggests to Umbra.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures gazes in awe at the blood moon, somehow feeling invigorated by it. Her neck is craned as she looks up, beginning to slowly walk after it, enchanted.

Someone wearing a sinister, wine-dark volto mirrormask distorted by sanguine fractures has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work pauses in front of one of the mirrors, her eyes narrowing at it, and she turns to look behind her at some of the dancers, then back to the mirror, her head canting to the side just a bit in confusion. "Did you see that?" She asks slowly, her voice drawling out a little as she studies the mirror while being pulled away by the other woman. "There was... that..." There's a few moments of lingering confusion before she allows herself to be pulled along in her friend's wake.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls eventually rises from her couch, curiosity getting the better of her, excusing herself from the presence of the Siren Queen and Spikes. She hands her empty wine glass off to a passing servant, and then makes her way toward the pool, glancing briefly toward the windows once again as the blood moon makes her full debut. She doesn't pause long, however, before she eventually makes her way to the pool to take a closer look.

3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards, Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog arrive, following Someone wearing white dragon mask.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls has left the Decadent Couch.

The impish fox waits about in line while he watches the people about the pool, looking excited for when it comes about to him.

Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head wanders now, alone, the feathers of her long, nearly-naked limbs fluttering with each sultry step of those high-spiked heels. Mirrorsilver mask reflecting each passerby's own mask, the woman seems to be seeking out someone - or merely silently observing each individual costumed individual.

Aryka Wyrmfang have been dismissed.

Lady Teonia Redreef have been dismissed.

Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog have been dismissed.

2 Thrax Elite Guards have been dismissed.

3 Thrax Guards have been dismissed.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask tucks her bone prize away from sight in the folds of her gown. Then she fastidiously dries her black-coated arm on a cloth brought by a servant, and gets herself a glass of wine. There's a hint of fright about her now - in the way she creeps through the crowd, watching the mirrors from the corner of one eye, but her voice as she gives compliments to mask after mask is as cheery as ever. Finally she ends up at the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples already there with a curious tilt of her head.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen:smiles at the Lady in White from beneath her mask. "Of course. I hope that your luck holds. With the inky seawater, I mean. You can absolutely have that dance. Tonight we all dance with the Thirteenth."

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia remains looking at the mirrors, perhaps longer than she ought to, but it's hard to look away. A smile appears on her lips, before she turns to retrieve another glass from a passing servant.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards hugs the Chaotic Black Widow from behind, watching the mirror with her, "This must all be new to you, but behold the world the Faith does not want you to know about. Feel how it calls to you?" A hand caresses the Black Widow's stomach with splayed fingers, slowly, "Do not stare for long, or we will need to go in there to fetch you back, but do blow them a kiss, darling. They do love to be acknowledged, just like anyone else."

As Bloodmoon teases about wine, the blonde in a Contorted Mirrormask simply laughs, grinning as she stares at the reflections, "Oh my. You cannot teach a -master- my love, but maybe tonight is the night I learn something new." As she leans in to give the Bloodmoon a kiss on the lips, something slippery and clumsy, the blonde whispers, "And I do love being bitten, so it is really a win-win."

She motions with her head so the Bloodmoon will follow, as she and the Chaotic Black widow motion towards the pool of inky darkness. With a both hands touching her spidery partner's back, the blonde seems to urge her forward. "Fetch me something marvelous, dear. I wish to show everyone at home how luck I am!" Where is that talk of shoving her hand into the unknown and getting bitten, now? Nowhere to be seen!

Someone wearing white dragon mask shows up fashionably late, or at least, so she hopes. She's rather armored, all things considered, but there's something quite costume-like about her armor. Also, something quite Valardin, what with the white dragon theme. She's all iridescent scales and aeterna.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask glances up at the mirrors when Umbra mentions that everything's changed, so fixated she was on the pool that almost ate her. "Indeed, it's quite lovely, and rather interesting. This is my first ball on the Blood Moon. Did you go to the last?" she asks, glancing aside at her seated companion.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil is standing by the Decadent couch, and sets her wine aside as she's approached by the woman in the periwinkle veil. After a brief conversation, and some goodbyes to those at the couch, the woman in white takes the periwinkle one by the hand. "Let's take a detour first, my darling. Perhaps you will bring me some luck?" She leads the periwinkle-veiled dance-partner-to-be towards the inky pool, and then takes her turn to reach in with her free hand, still holding the periwinkle woman's... and then lunges downward, crying out in a keening falsetto, "AAAAHHH! IT'S GOT ME! IT'S GOT Moh actually, no, my mistake." She pulls her arm back up, and the gungy water wicks easily off of aeterna, but not so much so from the steel spikes. Shaking her trophy a bit, she sees a piece of perfect star iron: "Well. You WERE lucky," she says to the periwinkle one. "Now let's dance~."

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars laughs softly and shakes her head. "My usual partner for masquerades was unavailable tonight so I shall just have to enjoy myself conversing and maybe dancing or other possible interesting things with others." She watches some of the odd reflections out the tail of her eye a moment before looking more fully at one of them.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters before departing.

The plain mask is pulled up enough to show a bearded chin. The expression on those lips is anything but pleasant. "Yup. Tastes like leviathan spit to me." He agrees before pulling his mask down around his chin again. He heads to a table.

And so the Bloodmoon receives her first anonymous kiss of the night. A delighted laugh escapes her as the dusk-splintered woman teases right along, and when she withdraws and speaks of being bitten, the Bloodmoon's teeth once more click together. She is beckoned to follow, so she does - ever chasing adventure on a night like this. Her dark eyes watch the pair ahead of her mostly, but there is a glance toward a mirror, a faltered step as her eye catches something in the depths. She takes a page from her new companions, however, and lifts a hand to her lips to press and blow in the direction of the mirror. Back to the pair, she muses, "I pray your luck is better than mine. Unless you like bones. Then, I will gladly trade."

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures stares into the mirror she's stopped before for a long moment or so. She even raises her hand at one point; perhaps admiring the smooth skin of it in the mirror. But the moment passes and she blinks before jerking herself back and away, turning to head for her table and her- she stops. Her wine is gone. "Ah." And she lingers there in uncertainty, clearly torn on where to go next.

Brows raise over eyes that peek out of a periwinkle veil in an inviting look. She holds out a hand gloved in sturdy leather to draw the spiked woman with her to to the dance floor. Her mouth moves close to the white veil to speak, "Perhaps you will be my luck." She sets a hand on her back and begins a turn.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters suddenly gasps at the mirror. Her hands fly to her her mouth. She glances behind herself to see if anyone notices before murmuring quickly to the mirror, looking and sounding sort of like a crazy woman.

Someone wearing plain black mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen continues to regard her reflection from the couches, murmuring something soft to her companions. With one hand gracefully placed on the arm of the couch she manages to rise to her feet while maintaing her tail. Slow steps take her towards the throne and the pool but she doesn't line up to stick her hand in. Rather she approaches the Widow Host and whispers something to her softly.

Aureate and viridescent fabric undulates and disorts beautifully as the tragic pair of lovers, trip the light fantastic, pivoting and spining in a gorgeously dramtic display. "Ah, dancing with you is, always, a most wonderful delight.~" she tells the man behind the lovelorn petrified mask. "Oooh! Look at the beautiful shades! How magnificent! I had never seen one like this before..." she confides him, while still sharing on their dance.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing white dragon mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing white dragon mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing white dragon mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask has joined the Scandal Couch.

Octavian, a silken spaniel have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil moves onto the ballroom floor with the woman in the periwinkle veil, and takes lead in their dance, as if there was a silent agreement to do so beforehand. Perhaps this is so the Lady in White can keep better watch of who might drift close -- after all, a dress covered in steel spikes would be a terrible thing to bump backs with. "My darling, you're being AWFULLY forward, we've only begun to dance," she laughs, to her dance partner. "...oh, er, wait, or did you say 'LUCK,' and not...?"

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls lingers near the pool, offering a dip of her head toward the black widow on the Archduchess throne, before she turns back to studying the people dipping their hands in the pool, and either pretending or otherwise to get their hands stuck in it. She eventually gets in line to give it a try herself, or at least, that seems to be her intent. While she waits her turn, her pale eyes turn to study the nearest mirror, gazing into it quietly for a time in respectful contemplation of what might be reflected there.

The impish fox begins to get hands to the pool, bringing mirrorsilver from within with a smile, "Thank you!"

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask gives Umbra's leg a small pat, offering her a knowing look. "As exciting as this has all been, I should get going. It's getting late. Though it has all been quite fun to observe," she tells Umbra. "Perhaps I'll try a mask again with a less obvious costume next time," she grins, winking at Umbra.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask speaks low towards her table mate and puts her dice on the table before her. There is a long look at the mirrors. "I love this part." Then she waits for her companion at the table to play her game.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia tears her eyes from the mirror to continue her route to the ballroom floor. She smiles warmly, glass still in hand. "Good evening, all." She greets the others gathered. "That was quite a sight, wasn't it?"

Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head slips up to a someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia and rests long, slender fingers on the woman's back.

There's anger, so much anger for a moment, rolling off of the alaricite siren, her chin lifting as something catches her attention in the mirror. But just as swiftly it turns to confusion and the lifts her right arm, sending strings of gems and the strands on her dress twirling as she turns and looks behind her. Left, right, all around and searching the crown. "Where are you..." She calls out, reaching out to touch someones shoulder closest to her to look at their face. Or try.

Another pivot follows from the forelorn masked man as the viridescent fabric from the hissing snake masked woman flows about her ankles. A breathless laugh following before shoulders of his slump down a moment, a lean to her ear following as fingertips tighten just-so against her wrist. "We-- mm." A quiet word following after before the two meander away from the dance floor

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters becoming a touch frustrated with the mirror finally realizes how crazy she looks. Backing away quickly, she looks around, a touch disoriented. Finally she finds the man in the plain mask and scurries to him.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures has left the the winter vixen table.

Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a bewitching mask of hissing snakes leaves, following Someone wearing a lovelorn petrified stone mask.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has rolled 2 6-sided dice: 2, 3

The increasing strangeness of some of the people as the night wears on is wearing on the little emerald lizard. She pops from the edge of the dance floor, to a couch, then back up - and slowly begins to edge for the door, but she pauses beside the woman wearing the sirens song of sorrow and puts a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to murmur to her.

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume is beckoned over by an attendant near the pool, and hops from his perch atop an arm of the Impropriety couch to amble across the Room. At this point he's watch enough others delve into the substance to make no fuss about it, plunging yellow talons into the black liquid immediately, scraping about and withdrawing what, after swiping off some slimy sludge, appears to be a vibrantly rich, perfect sapphire whose color seems like it's all the brighter for its time in the nebulous muck.

Taking a few moments to wipe down the gem and his glove and incline his head to the throned Widow, he wanders back in the direction of his previous perch with a softly lilting whistle. Between clusters of partygoers, he lobs the gem into the air to catch it, holding it up against the blue feathers of his outfit with curiosity.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars says, "What? And leave me fending for myself, not just tonight but future Masquerades? Tsk, tsk. I'll have to tease you and say you'll miss all the fun that way." There is a grin showing. "Take care on the way home, Fiery Phoenix.""

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures finally retrieves herself a new glass of wine to clutch like an anchor as she goes wandering. She watches the shafts of ruddy and scarlet moonlight as she seeks out, perhaps, a cluster to integrate herself into. Or maybe to just avoid the mirror's gaze.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask has rolled 2 6-sided dice: 5, 5

Wash makes room for the star-scorched mask beside him at the table. Even while he pretends to schmooze the room, he keeps an eye out for her and does not miss her approach.

The periwinkle veiled woman tests the steel points on the white veiled woman's aeterna gown with a finger plink. There's one thing that is reassuring, if she bleeds on this beautiful gown she will leave no stains. A plosive laugh flutters her veil at the woman's joke. "Luck my lady, just luck. We've only started this dance."

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters mutters, "The mirror. It ... me. As ... queen. I saw Stormward burning and ... ... ..."

Turns to face the lizard, looking to them and murmuring back, though she still looks beyond them, as if looking for something or someone.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask approaches the pool for her turn next. She takes a moment to test the water, swirling her fingertips around on its surface before lowering her hand the rest of the way in. She gingerly feels around for a moment, the lion mask hiding her expression as she explores, and then slowly pulls her hand back out. A round piece of Star Iron rests in her palm.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask claps her hands very very merrily at the dice rolls at her table. The woman's laugh is full and bright with just the right amount of ... malice? Yes, it almost sounded like malice. It's as if a person loving a game, or perhaps she's not use to winning. As she awaits for her lovely table mate. She then sweeps the room to point to a person. A low comment given to her table.

It's a Lycene event; this is probably inevitable, right? The man in the moth mask's lips teases near hers and then the woman wearing the the mask of an alluring flame is kissing him. Her fingers are pressing against his neck, her lips devouring his in a not-subtle way in the middle of the dance floor. Good thing they are in masks.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia noticing the reactions of those around her, she furrows her brows, inching closer to the mirrors, especially on hearing certain mutters. She seems to be in a daze, barely hearing what her companion says. "Yes, he's not." She murmurs.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask wraps an arm around her own chest as if warding off a chill, inclining her head to whatever the sorrowful siren has said to her. She has to lift her head to carry on the murmured conversation, but now her deep blue eyes skate across the mirrors with some concern.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards eyes the unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight starts talking about Stormward burning. "Oh-oh, we have the first vision! Someone, help her out, please? This one seems like they need a Mercy!"

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil is, it must be said, a competent dancer. Perhaps she could strive for more than competence if she was not keeping such careful track of not accidentally stabbing anyone. Indeed, when her periwinkle partner pokes a spike, it's quite real, and quite sharp. "Careful, there," she chides, gently. "And you're right, we've only begun. Plenty of time to decide if, say, we keep the veils on..."

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves had been awaiting patiently beside the pool. Though time wearing on has its dire effect of distraction. Distraction while one is embodying the very spirit of the apex predator and was being so damn /loud/ about it was a dangerous combination. Slowly, the Shark's head had rolled to the side. Deep, crimson eyes set upon a mirror beside him. For several seconds he stands unmoving. His head tilts. Metal creaks and steel grinds against each other as its jaw unhinges and clamps back down. "... Hm... That's..." A hand lifts and presses into the side of his leather mask. "That's not... No. That's not right." A dull rattle emenates from within the mask. "... Ah... Ahhh. AH. AHHH!" With a sudden lurch, the shark's hand plants itself against the reflective surface. There's nobody inside the mirror except the Shark's own image. With a grumble, he steps back. Both hands grabbing the sides of his masked head while he composes himself. "Stupid fucking reflection."

Someone wearing fiery phoenix silk mask finishes saying her goodbyes to Umbra, and then turns to leave the event, gracefully making her way to the exit in all her fiery phoenixy glory.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon casts a quick glance toward the unnervingly masked one at dusk-splinter's direction, eyes widening a touch. "Are you to act as our guide this evening, my lovely stranger?" she wonders of the masked woman who called for the Mercy. "You seem well-versed in the dealings of these mirrors." She casts a longing gaze toward one reflective surface, the trio of them looking stunning in return. The shadows around? Equally so.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures makes her way toward the decadent couch where she'd seen the Siren Queen earlier. She's clutching her new glass of wine tightly, but opts to stop nearby and cast a look out for the costumed woman.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards stands away from the inky pool, and brings the Chaotic Black Widow with her. "Oh my, a lot of Peers losing their minds tonight. This is why I say you cannot just come to a Velenosa Eclipse of Mirrors ball just because you got an invitiation. These people spend the whole year being pious and Faithful and they think they can just stroll in, drink and partake in this sort of holy ritual." She fetches a goblet of wine from a passing waiter and takes a large sip of it. She does not have a problem, she can stop whenever she wants. "And now they are screaming an- Thinking back, no, no. This does add to the party."

Nodding to herself in realization, she simply takes the Chaotic Black Widow and Bloodmonn's hands in hers, and guide both women towards the Immorality Couch, carrying them both with. "Here, this is the perfect vantage point to see it all unfold, believe me. Every year someone falls down having seizures, speaking in tongues, it is just amazing.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work really just goes where she's guided, more than a little overwhelmed by everything. All of the people, the party, the moon,e verything at the corners of the eyes like the moving shadows, people seemingly losing their marbles. It's all just a bit much. So she just follows in the dusk splintered mask's wake.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars is so caught up in bidding fiery phoenix goodbye she almost misses when it is her turn to dip a hand into the pool. She gracefully steps over, lowers herself with skirts pooling around her like a dark shadow with the silver reflecting the red moonlight. Cautiously fingers slide into the black fluid and down deeper till the bottom is reached. Slender fingers grasp something small and hard and extract it. The arm and wrist, hand and object are dried off carefully. She stands and turns to let the light illuminate the object more fully and discovers that what she holds is an epiphanite gem. "Oh, how beautiful. Thank you. I do not have one of these as yet.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work has left the Ballroom Floor.

The emerald lizard nods to whatever the sorrowful siren has said to her and reaches up to take the lady's arm. "I woudl be glad to," she murmurs, still quiet, but such that people nearest might hear. "And I hope your luck is better than mine." Whatever she says next is quieter, for the siren's ears alone.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil misteps ever so slightly but is quick to recover before impaling herself on the white veiled woman's spikes. Her golden hazel eyes widen at the near mistep and she gives a nervous laugh. she keeps safe buffer betwixt their bodies and keeps contact hand to hand. her own hands are warm. She slides a finger along the palm that the woman plunged into the inky pool to feel for any linger dampness.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia turns away from the mirror, horrified. Before turning to her companion, hands shaking. "I--" She turns to her companion. "I have to go." She says before heading out of the hall.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask turns from a conversation in his alcove to do a hard stare at the nearest mirror. As if daring it to -- mirror.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen returns to the Decadent Couch after whispering with the exquisite Black Widuchess but doesn't sit right away, pausing to regard something in her reflection very intently.

Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia has left the Ballroom Floor.

Aurelio, a handsome, fresh-faced manservant, Rosalba, a creamy-white raven with strikingly-alert azure eyes leave, following Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head.

Sirra, a very quiet maid, Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head leave, following Someone wearing a silver mirror shards mask adorned with black and white zirconia.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures has invaded the space of the Decadent Couch, but... it seemed such a nice couch, perhaps. She holds her wine tight and, by way of explanation, says to the Siren Queen: "I love your outfit." It's a good reason for the invasion, surely.

"I wonder how true that is," Bloodmoon considers the piety of those in attendance, her mask allowing her much freedom to stare openly at the guests, to study each for some sign of unfaithfulness, some hint that they might be secret, or even open, sinners. "Mmm. The more I spend time in Arx, the more I begin to think not a one of us is as holy as we pretend." There's no judgment in her tone, simple amused fact (at least in her mind). "Except me," she adds quickly, glancing between dusk-splintered and Chaos. "I am perfectly faithful and holy." A small nod, and she downs the rest of her wine, only to claim a new glass as soon as this one is set down. And then they are changing directions, finding a couch to occupy, to watch. "If that /doesn't/ happen, I will be sorely disappointed now, where before I had no expectations. I hope you can handle that pressure."

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask stands from her seat to walk for a few. She seems to have sent her friend on a mission. So she moves to look at the mirrors. It's not so much that she is in fear. She's not trying to gleen an insight. Her gloved fingers reach out to touch them in an almost wistful gesture. However, her head turns to follow the movements of a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil's palm is gloved in aeterna -- she left no stone unturned, no fingertip uncovered. "Mm. Look around us," she says. With her massive veil it's actually sort of hard to tell where the Lady in White is looking. "The mirrors. The reactions. Do you plan to chance a look?" There's still a somewhat flirty undertone, but just a bit more serious now.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil says this, of course, to the lady in the periwinkle veil, with whom she is slowly dancing.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments sweeps her head back and forth as she turns away from the Libertine Table and crosses the room to the Impropriety Couch. It may well earn its name as she sits down on the arm of the couch and leans towards the Griffon.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather2-silver

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

The woman in periwinkle turns to look at the light glinting off of all the mirrors and hoarsly replies to the woman in white, "Shall we look together?"

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather has joined the Scandal Couch.

Her turn at the pool comes andShe looks to the lizard, instructions it seems murmured before she's carefully leaning in with that bared arm devoid of any sleeves when the Lizard is ready. Her chance to fish around even as she looks to the other with them as she might see someone she's looking for. But she pulls up her hand and back, a small wet pouch in hand, successful and carefully stands back up, showing her treasure to the lizard

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil steps back, carefully, to give the periwinkle woman a slow twirl. It'd look a lot better without the constant care to avoid spiking people. "I feel the longer I spend among the crowd here, the more likely I am to put someone's eye out, and I feel even in the Lyceum that might violate decorum. So... let's look. And perhaps I will indeed be your luck."

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves smacks the side of his head. Once, twice, and thrice. Jolting himself through the best usage of power at his disposal: frustrated violence. After that brief flurry, his attention is fully focused upon the pools. "Right. Okay. I can do this." Deep breath. "I'm a goddamn SHARK." Without hesitation, the goddamn Shark leers face-first right over the pool and straight into the void underneath the surface. His mask is entirely immersed, all the way down to his chest as his legs leave the floor. His arm joins him under there before too long once he realizes he's not going to free himself from drowning on core strength alone. Suddenly, the Shark throws himself back up. It's a flurry of droplets and a sheen of inky blackness that raises around him when he breaches from the pool. A ghastly roar following. What he finds is immediately evident. He's got a damn EEL in his alaricite jaws. And it becomes immediately apparent that while acting is fun, the human underneath the mask was /not/ going to outmatch an eel on teeth alone. The flailing creature is dropped back into the pools, leaving the soaked Shark to recoil back. Something rattles inside of his mouth. One gauntlet pries inside, and wrenches free a single stone of stygian.

"Sorry love, I couldn't find your arm!" The Shark is sputtering up inky water, pouring from the eyeholes and below his mask. He gives a few more hacking coughs as he wanders away from the pools.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments holds a finger up to the girl in the Downcast mask. She sweeps her head back and forth one last time before she plants a kiss on the end of the Griffon's beak. It lingers a moment before she leans back and lowers her hand, mischief complete. Without a word, she stands once more and takes a pass by the mirrors, glancing, but not looking deeply within.

Even as she carefully adjusts her grip to the siren's upper arm, while she takes her turn at the pool, the emerald lizard's gaze lingers on the mirror - taking in a breath of surprise, and gripping slightly tighter at her companion's arm for a moment. "Is it worth paying?" she asks, apparently of the mirror, because she's not looking at the siren for a moment.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone comes in having made an attempt at wearing the night itself, it seems - and intent on not standing out, perhaps seeking to people-watch. Rather than interact, there's a pause just inside the ballroom, and then a meander over to a couch where nobody but a lizard has taken residence. As good a place as any to perch.

The woman in periwinkle twirls and comes to a stop and curtseys to her dance partner in white. She looks twowards the pool, "I think it will be my turn soon, but first..." She holds her partner's hand and walks to a window to peek in. "What do you see?" She asks the other woman, then haltingly, "Is that rude? This is my first..." she trails off.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask walks across the area as she studies the mirrors. Her face is hidden by the full replica of Julietta Velenosa. She seems to cant her head at the reflection that she sees. Then where there should probably be horror is ... laughter. It's full and bright again as amusement grows and grows. "I knew it. Fully in love and fascinated with me." She puts her gloved fingers to her lips and then presses them to the mirror. She will then move towards one of the couches and drop upon it, as she drops her voice.

stares at the Shark, mouth hanging open, like a fish gasping for air as she looks to the Lizard them to the shark, the lizard, then the shark, hand closing around the little bag with the sea glass inside. There's a shake of her head to the Lizard. "some place to sit. I think. I don't know that I can dance and the mirrors... are..." being mirrors. "VICTUS!" She turns and calls out over the din. "I smell lilies!"

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures is distracted by the shark's, uh, attempt at bobbing for eels? Who wouldn't be! It's enough to jar her out of her nigh-fugue state after whatever she glimpsed in the mirrors. She blinks a few times before giving an actual, light laugh. Something not terribly common for her.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask holds out her hand to the man in the shark mask. There is a set of black dice upon her palm. "Do you wish to play a game?" Then her fully covered face turns to look at the others at the seat.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters gives the man in the plain black mask the longest most dirty look, which is impressive since she's in a mask herself. She glances back to the pool and excuses herself from the group to return to the pool and the further away from the mirrors.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone didn't bother changing his mask from a previous masked ball to the current. Polyanthus makes his way into the ballroom, stealing a goblet of wine from a passing servant's tray and drinking deeply from it. On a whim, he decides to approach the area with mirrors.

"Of course," the little emerald lizard says to the sorrow siren. She offers the couch where she was sitting before, where the leather-maksed man has just sat. "Come join me if you will. I don't pretend to understand ... but if there is anything more I can do, you only need say so."

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work it seems is a little too overwhelmed by everything. She gets to her feet offering a smile to the other two at her location. "I am sorry, this is all a little over much for me. You two should stay and have a good time. I'm going to retire early though." She'll give each a squeeze to their hand before she starts for the exit.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil keeps hold of the periwinkle woman's hand as they exit the dancefloor. Her grip is gentle, but betrays no small amount of strength behind it. "Is it strange of me," she says, sotto voice but not quite in a whisper to Lady Periwinkle, "that I feel no fear? Only... mm. I'm not sure I have a name for it, really." She lifts her chin, which makes her hat tilt up slightly, but she gazes into the mirror through her lace veil, and goes silent as she looks.

Someone wearing a sirens song of sorrow has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a mirrormask crowned by a black widow on a chaotic silver lattice-work has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame and her partner move off the dance floor sometime after that display, taking a shadowed corner for now for some private time. Well, relatively private.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask drifts out to the dance floor alone. Only one or two people here know it's her, right? She holds her skirt so that she does not step on it, and starts to sway and twirl with the music.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 73 higher.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask has been remaining in the alcove with his dog's face just canted toward the mirror, with slightly pissy near-patience, when he suddenly hisses a 'fuck you' at the mirror, a 'fuck you' that quickly escalates into a scatter of unnerved profanity. He scratches under his white armor violently, troubling the umbra cloth beneath it. "Damn damn damn it--"

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards watches as the Chaotic Black Widow leaves, and she looks at the Bloodmoon, shrugging some. "Well, at least she did not have any seizures. As for you, thank you for the lovely company, but I must make sure someone is not too rattled. You know how first timers get." Leaning in, the blonde simply rubs temples with the other woman before standing and leaving.

Someone wearing a contorted mirrormask of dusk-splintered shards has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing Polyanthus mask has joined the line.

The lovely Siren sort of stares as the shark actually plunges its head into the pool to come out of it with an eel, of all things. Her pale eyes blink a couple of times at this, then she lifts a hand to her lips, and... titters behind it. Still waiting her turn at the pool, she glances about, watching the reactions of others as they gaze into mirrors, or notice oddities about the room. She does stop a passing servant to take up a new glass of something. She hesitates in bringing the glass to her lips beneath her half-mask, however, as Soot Dog starts swearing and scratching at himself. She gazes at him steadily and silently for a long moment, before sipping from her drink.

The dirty look from the person wearing the star-scorched mask draws the attention of the person wearing the plain black mask (well, plain but for the garnet and moonstone on the forehead), but the attention is fleeting; at the couch, it is diverted to someone wearing a sirens song of sorrow.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen blinks at whatever she sees in the mirrors, murmuring as if in response to someone. "I look for her everywhere. /Everywhere/." She confesses to the reflection.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars finishes watching the people swirling around the dancefloor and trying their luck at the pool. She stands and with a "Thank you' to the hostess, makes her way toward the exit.

And then Bloodmoon was all alone at her couch. How did she manage to send both of her lovely companions scattering so quickly? Perhaps the bone in her hand is reason enough. She looks down to the cursed thing with a small snort and stands from the couch with an elegant sweep of brocade. She moves toward a mirror, spying a Polyanthus masked man and extending her hand to him, the bone, slightly chewed, presented in offering. "A prize for you. Perhaps it will bring you more luck than it has brought me." Should he take it or not, she glances away toward a mirror, her head tilting forward slightly to look more closely at the reflection. How can she resist? She does look lovely.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters moves over to the pool and kneels down. She gives the water one quick worried look before plunging her arm deep into the water. And I mean deep. Whisps of her golden hair skim the surface. Her free hand clings to the surface of the pool so she doesn't fall in. Instead of searching, she pulls out a dead, bloody and bitten eel. Holding it closely, she plucks a gem from it's mouth, a single epiphanite. She smiles, kisses the eel with a loud mwha! before throwing it back in the water.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye eases from her seat and sets her wineglass aside at something said to her by the Griffon. She exhales a breath and inclines her head, moving across the ballroom toward one of the tables. A chair is pulled loose and, with surprising grace and athleticism, the masque-goer steps onto it very carefully and then onto the surface of the table. It elevates her height considerably. She stands there atop it, looking toward the Griffon, and puts out her arms as if to say. Ta Da.

Peri looks into the mirror side-by-side to the white veiled woman. "Equanamity?" Offers Peri. "Perhaps a little uncanny of you," She says with a wry and flirty tone. She gives own her a reflection a sharp evaluation and tries to stare herself down. This usually ends in an impass. Someone beckons her to the pool. "Shell we? If you've time, my lady." She walks to the pool and looks in its dark mirrored surface before plunging her arm in. She feels around before pulling out a fine and simple piece of wood. Her veil shifts as she smiles, and tucks the piece of wood behind her ear. "I had a curious twig once and gave it to a lovely woman. I'll hold on to this one. It may be my luck." She bows to the woman in white and cradles one of her hands in her own before giving the lady her freedom.

Polyanthus looks at the bone with puzzlement before bowing his head to Bloodmoon, following her gaze over to the mirror. "Worth the try." He says, approaching it and facing his own reflection, still as a statue for a long moment. He is confused.

Someone wearing an Umbra mask adorned with silver stars has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume offers a talon-up in the direction of the Crescent Moon, head bowing and offering an upraised clap. After a laugh, he waggles a gloved hand in their direction as if to say 'On with it!' across the distance by way of gesture.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters shakes off her wet arm and moves away from the pool. One last glare at her companion and she excuses herself from the party, all the while giving covert glances to the mirrors.

Someone wearing an unnerving mirrormask of star-scorched midnight splinters has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil likewise stares at the mirror for a long moment but doesn't seem particularly driven to madness yet. Or if she is, her veil hides it well. She follows her periwinkle partner to the pool, and chuckles at the story about the wood. "Ah. Before we part for now," she says, and then leans forward and gives the perwinkle-veiled woman a veil-on-veil peck on the lips, the kiss filtered through two layers of fabric. Then she lets the periwinkle one slip away, and the Lady in White returns to her roaming... coming back to the Decadent Couch, and the Siren Queen... and pausing there, to once again look over at the mirror, as if silently daring it to do its worst. At least, she COULD be doing that. Behind the veil, who's to say?

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures drifts from the couches once again; this time back towards the pool. Not too near, but near enough to watch those few who have not yet taken their chance and are finally summoning up their bravery to reach in.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame moves from her shadowed corner, a flame on her own for a moment as she approaches the black pool of liquid for her turn. Her dark forest gaze peers into the swirling liquid for a moment, before she lowers her hand into the black liquid, which eats her seasilk flame fabric. When she lifts her hand from the pool, diamondplate gleams in her hand. She smiles for it, her gaze sweeping the ballroom as she steps away from the pool to allow the next their place.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye dances beneath the red moon, standing atop the table, with her hands at the pinch of her skirt and a sway to her motions that's quick and fluid outside the tap-tap-tap of those heels against the surface. Its quite careless, perhaps even mad, but such a flavor is not uncommon on /such/ a particular night.

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil has joined the Decadent Couch.

Bloodmoon just boned someone. Right there. In the Ballroom. Nice. She drops her hand to her hip, pale fingers stark against the bloodmoon hue of her brocade, and she watches them both now in the mirror. "If you watch closely enough, you'll see the shadows move," she half-whispers to Polyanthus, her gaze moving to the upper left corner of the reflective surface, as if trying to catch something in her view. "Are you a fan of shadows?"

The woman in a periwinkle veil nears the group at the decadent couch, and gives them a eyebrow flash in greeting. She is joined by her guard in watching the people in the room, once again, in all their finery.

"Am I a fan of shadows?" Polyanthus wonders. "You could say I am indifferent, depending on whether or not I think they're uncomfortably close. But I'm still wondering as to the point of the mirror. And the bone." He shows the bone to his reflection, just in case, shaking it in his hand. "How about you, my Lady? Are you a fan of shadows?" Fairly obvious that he doesn't see anything in the mirror, yet.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume crosses arms across his chest, watching the Moon dance beneath the bloodmoon, but any expression to the observation is lost beneath the full mask. Finally he presses off of his perch against the couch, wandering closer to the table that's become a raised dance stage now and wondering up to the impromptu dancer with an easy mirth to his baritone words and thumbs hooked through the leonine-tailed belt around his waist, "Feel any higher above the woes from up there?"

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon laughs as she watches the bone move in the reflection. She drags her eyes away to look at the real man beside her, a finer reaching out to trace one of the teeth marks on the bone itself. "I plucked this from a pool of liquid over there. Others have brought forth mirrorsilver, sapphires... I pulled a bone. I do hope you keep it to always remember this brief, strange encounter." Her hand falls away and she looks back to the mirror. "And I suppose I am. I often wonder of the things born of shadows - if there are such things at all," she grins at the fantastical idea.

Someone wearing white dragon mask steps forward to stick her arm in the black of the water, though first she takes a moment to remove her white clawed glove. Her arms are long, but she finds herself reaching deeper and deeper into the slime, so far that she must be careful of the sleeve of her aeterna tunic. She lingers for a moment, then retrieves her arm, pulling it swiftly and forcefully out of the water with a splash. When she finally manages to see what she has retrieved, she gasps audibly: there is a fiery red dragonweep in her hand.

Someone wearing plain black mask stands, casts about for his wife and not seeing her slides across the ballroom flor to a table where the moonflower dances. He steps lively onto the table and mimics her moves, keeping her company. Dancing is more fun than talking.

Someone wearing plain black mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen addresses the man in the ivy mask. "We should go. It's time. If we linger until daybreak, we'll have to wait for the next one. I don't want to." Her voice is suddenly grave and serious, not the playful banter she's been chatting with all evening. Something catches her attention and she responds as if addressing someone in the bloodmoon's mist. "There are things born of shadows. Creatures. And people."

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves has rolled 2 6-sided dice: 1, 5

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame and the man in the moth mask seem to have a similar idea. It's time to go. Their prize won, they leave the ballroom to return home.

Metzger, a great grey shrike arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters before departing.

Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing the mask of an enchanted moth leaves, following Someone wearing the mask of an alluring flame.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil approaches the Decadent Couch just as the Siren Queen is preparing to leave -- or maybe she approached it a few moments ago. She's been staring off at a mirror for a while. Time has become a little indistinct. Her head (hat) turns towards the Siren Queen. "I'll claim that dance some other time, my Queen. We can wear our masks, just for the occasion, a masquerade of two."

Returning with an iridescent white feathered cloak barely hanging on her shoulders is a scantily-clad woman in high heels. She pulls the mask from her face, revealing herself briefly.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask has rolled 2 6-sided dice: 1, 4

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye twirls in her dance, the click of her heels rapacious in living motion like moonlight across a lake of white. After the Griffon's approach, she stops. "Yes," is her demur reply and looks down at him below. "I'm going to jump."

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures still watches the pool. Or the people approaching the pool. Perhaps both. It keeps her attention off the mirrors. She's very, very keen on that at the moment. Intensely so.

"I don't need to wonder about that one." Polyanthus admits, sneaking a glance to the Bloodmoon, watching as she reaches out to trace the marks on the bone with her fingers, studying her. "Perhaps I will make something out of this piece of bone. I find gemstones in general to be rather boring, though. You definitely remember getting this out of a murky pool. Should I try my luck at that?"

Someone wearing white dragon mask swaps the dragonweep that she's just pulled out of the pool into her dry hand, then slips her dragon-clawed glove back on as she wanders back over to her companions on their couch. She pauses a moment to check her reflection in a mirror, just to be sure that she didn't get that black water on her white clothes.

Someone wearing a lovely Siren's mask decorated with pearls turns toward the pool when it becomes her turn to dip a hand into it. She lowers herself next to it, seasilk skirts pooling around her. She draws her trailing sleeve up to bare her arm to the shoulder, and then reaches into the pool of water, frowning a little at the strangeness of it. She fishes around in the pool for a time, giving a soft gasp at something, before eventually coming up with something in her hand. She rises gracefully to her feet, and glances at the item in her dripping hand. A ruby. She closes her hand around it again, then takes a moment to wipe the inky water from her arm with a cloth, before she lets the sleeve fall back into place. She steps away from the pool with her treasure, giving a bow of the head toward the Archduchess couch once more. Then she steps away. She pauses then, staring back at a mirror. Her lips beneath the half mask curve into a little frown. "Fair enough," she says. For a moment, she seems a little startled that she spoke aloud. She doesn't linger. Once she has her prize, she makes her way toward the exit.

"You have no care for gemstones?" Bloodmoon gasps, her entire world thrown into question with that simple statement! The drama of it all! A hand to chest, and she dips her eyes to the star iron he wears about his neck. "Well then, I suppose I should take that off your hands and free you from such finery? A nice, solid bone necklace would be fine in its place." She's even boldly reached out a hand, fingers brushing the cabochon stone. But her ruse is quickly revealed with the grin that follows, her hand falls and she nods to the pool. "I think you better, so that I might know if I am indeed the unluckiest here tonight."

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume cants his head minutely, the gesture somewhere between avian and personable. His hooked thumbs shift to palms against his hips, and then his arms are akimbo. He stifles a laugh before teasing up to the Moon, "From this height I'm guessing you don't need a catch unless you're planning a good pounce off and some additional theatrics to the maneuver."

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 25, rolling 31 higher.

"Seraphinite is new, novel, and rather cheap. A solid seventy-five nights at an inn somewhere other than Arx, perhaps, but still, relatively cheap." Polanythus leans in to murmur something to Bloodmoon, then, offering his arm to her, and upnodding to the pool. Something in the elevated area catches his attention and he hrms, thoughtfully, but goes on to proceed to the pool.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask has left the Scandal Couch.

The mask off, dropping it onto the couch, Alarissa's noding to the lizard who is departing too, a glance for her companions at the couch, that black mask and the lion before she starts to wend her way through the crowd, anyone with blond hair stopped to look at with no small amount of anxiety on her face building

Alarissa has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye shakes her head at the idea of being caught. She gathers up her skirt and jumps, landing with a strange grace befit some creature of whimsy. Rising, smoothing the tulle, she offers the Griffon a pat on the arm. "I must go now, I'm afraid. Thank you." There is a small peck of a kiss to the side of his beak, before she moves to leave without a word.

Someone wearing a downcast crescent moon mask with moon flower eye has left the The Impropriety Couch.

There is a fury in this woman's stance, in the glare in her firelight-amber eyes glowing from beneath her mask as she returns it to her face, slipping her gaze around the room, searching every mirrored surface she can find, her gaze lingering heatedly. She walks to the pool and stares down into it, searching even that inky surface, murmuring with a low growl, "Come and face me. I /dare/ you. You think /I/ am afraid? /I DARE/ you." She pauses a moment, then lifts her voice louder. "Need I wager my soul, too, to you, Tehom, dear?"

Someone wearing Mirrormask of the Siren Queen has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Ivy Leaf mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask leans a little out of the alcove (where he still scratches himself fitfully), studying the angry woman with weary interest.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures finds distraction in the woman shouting at the pool. She cants her head to one side and watches, unabashedly staring. Why not? It's performance. It's part of the event. Maybe it's meant for show.

"I will keep you to that promise," Bloodmoon replies with an easy laugh as she links her arm through the offered one. Her hand rests lightly against the support and she allows herself to near the pool once more, this time as spectator. "Unless you get a bone," she adds dryly. "You keep that. Fashion some matching earrings." Her gaze drifts when his does, trying to catch sight of whatever drew his attention. Finding little, she returns her attention to both man and pool. "Wait!" she declares before he risks placing a hand in the liquid. She reaches for his hand with her free one, bringing it up to her lips to press a soft kiss to his palm. "For luck. Even if I have none," she winks, and then frees him to his chances.

Someone wearing an emerald-encrusted lizard mask follows Alarissa away from the couch herself, with a wave and a curtsy to the leather-masked man and lioness still there before she goes. She slips through the crowd searching for the shark, giving the raven's head a wide pass as she begins talking to the mirrors. Shouting at the mirrors, really.

Once the lizard catches sight of the shark, she has to stand on tiptoe to speak to him. But she does, gesturing back to where Alarissa, is, waving a hand, shaking her head.

Of course, this little ritual was all before Bloodmoon noticed a masked woman yelling at the pool. She steps back, just in case, and murmurs something to Polyanthus.

As the angry woman rants into the pool, a smooth voice calls out from nearby, "Well, if you call my name...." The man steps forward, clad in leathers as dark as shadow, a mirrorsilver mask on his face. Strangely, despite the mask, his voice in clear and unmuffled. He bows before the angry woman and offers his hand, murmuring, "Shall we dance then, since you seem to crave the challenge?"

Alarissa drops a sirens song of sorrow.

Allowing his hand to linger into that kiss, Polyanthus tilts his head to Bloodmoon, surprised by the gesture, or the very notion of it. There is a sound of enjoyment for it as he reaches into the pool, following a quiet 'excuse me' to the woman shouting into the pool. "Just making sure to try and grab a gemstone before your challenge, my Lady."

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask gets a sirens song of sorrow.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil seems awfully calm after her extended mirror-gaze. Though, with such a broad veil covering so much of her, including all of her head and most of her shoulders, she could well be silently screaming under there. The spike-laden Lady in White is silent for a long moment, and watches the various reactions of those around her as they're stirred up by fear, rage, confusion, and all the rest. "What did you see, my darling?" she asks, as she appropriates a glass of wine from a passing servant, and lifts her veil gently to sip. "All I saw was... confirmation."

Someone wearing a horrific mirrormask of night-splintered fragments has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters was stepping away from the shadowy alcove and away from the man in the stygian soot dog mask, but she seems curious of the ranting. And there's a bit of a look towards the man that steps forward as she makes her way towards the exit.

Someone wearing Replica Stygian Mirror Mask glances up as one emerges from the shadows. She cants her head to watch but then her face turn back towards those at the couch with her.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather is watching the woman in the raven mask, and the man in the leathers who offers her a dance with idle interest. His attention shifts to the Lion there sitting with him, but he offers only a smile before looking back.

"Dance? Is this what you wish, my lord? A dance is easy - as easy as frightening someone." The raven-masked woman's gaze does not leave the man's countenance, but skims from head to toe and back again. Her demeanor seems to smooth; she lifts the feathered cloak with one hand and proffers an elaborate, graceful curtsy. "A dance, indeed. In exchange for answers." She moves her barely-covered feet a step forward towards the man.

Someone wearing a distorted mirrormask spun from dawn-bled splinters has left the Shadowy Alcove.

After the pat on his arm and peck to his beak from the departing Crescent Moon, the Griffon's head turns to follow the departing masked figure, lingering for a moment before turning to sweep back across the Room. In the process, his head pauses in the direction of a mirror, and suddenly both akimbo arms drop limp at his sides and there's a sudden grunt before a low string curses beneath his breath, as if he'd suddenly been shocked or surprised. He lingers, shoulders slumping and head hanging briefly.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

Someone wearing plain black mask drops off the table and waltzes across the room looking for someone, a partner perhaps.

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil answers the woman in the white hat, "No other than myself, when I looked at myself." She brushes a stray tangle of hair that has fallen from her headscarf. The commotion draws her attention, "Nothing like what that one must have experienced."

Bloodmoon watches the angry woman move off to accept the returned challenge from a dark-clad figure. There's a lingering of her gaze, a small distraction from her Polyanthus partner, and she forces herself to blink and look away, back to the pool and the man. "What did you find?" she asks, a touch distractedly, but her smile returning to her lips shortly after.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask wanders back out to the empty dance floor as the party winds down, and resumes twirling and swaying to the music. she closes her eyes and lets herself do something she has never done before: get lost in the music.

"I will accept a dance. What I wish is much, much more." The masked man takes the woman into his arms and begins a stately, perfect waltz. There is no expression to be seen with the mask in place, but the man holds himself with exquisite grace as he leads his raven-masked partner effortlessly in the dance. The music as played by the musicians is lively, yet those who know anything about music would discern a discordant note here and there. It's enough to make those sensitive to such things perhaps a touch uncomfortable.

Someone wearing a haunting feline mirrormask fractured by coruscating starlight tears has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask has left the Shadowy Corner.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Arvie leave, following Someone wearing a silken dual crescent and full moon mask.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures may have appeared interested at the challenge. But seeing the response makes the woman in the dark mask and gown blanche somewhat. She takes a step or two back and leaves her wine glass; either upon a table or handing it off to someone appropriate.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather has left the Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing white dragon mask picks up the music, even with the discordant notes. It's as if they're supposed to be there, and like she knows a song to sing to go with the song the musicians are playing. Her beautiful, powerful soprano is difficult to hear over the din, but she sings, "On this fateful night, soft shadows susurrate, obliterate the light... And under crimson moon, dancing brilliant, silent whispers all too soon... Dare to dream this eve, oh take that chance, once the mysteries weave..."

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil nods her head towards the periwinkle woman. "I suppose we're lucky? Or... Well. Perhaps you are. I didn't exactly see confirmation of anything GOOD." She lifts her veil again, and her wine glass disappears behind it. One strong slug later, and an empty wine glass is removed. "At first, I thought to panic, but... I've never been the panicking type, really, and... I think I knew it all along, anyway." She sets the empty glass down, and leans in to whisper something to the periwinkle lady.

The formerly-furious raven-masked woman moves with grace and elegance across the floor with her masked partner, feathered cloak and singularly-feathered leg catching the breeze as they move and turn. The woman is practiced, elegant; she knows easily how to dance, and her muscled legs prove to be an easy match for even the most complex of her partner's movements. The woman's countenance is unperturbed by the music's discordance; she steps, following her partner, fiery amber eyes gazing into the eyeholes of her partner's mask.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask remains against the wall, his eyes glittering through the slits in his mask. "Another year, another Tehom. What will the dance portend this time?" To nothing and no one, he says, "I like the music."

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 25 higher.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather rises from the scandal couch and appears to consider the dance floor. Instead, there's just a wander over to a shadowy corner to lean on the wall, that being a better way to watch a dance.

Someone wearing Polyanthus mask is still searching into the pool, it seems, but with the mystery man and his challenger dancing in the floor, he's just a little apprehensive at whatever he's reaching into on the pool. Determined, though.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume wanders for the exit, absently flexing fingers as if in a daze.

Someone wearing a Blue-Plumed Griffon Costume has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask twirls her way toward the white dragon, gracefully striking a pose when she reaches her. She politely waits for the song to come to an end.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask rises, heading over to peer in the mirrors again, having heard something over at her couch. She approaches the mirrors with more reverence than before, though.

Alarissa wends through the party, this blonde and that blonde touched, coming around them to look at them, a single name called out in a questioning tone. 'Eleyna?" She shakes her head when she doesn't find her and keeps going further, next blonde, to the next blonde, stopping at some point to just shift in a circle, go up on her toes as if that might help the petite woman see whomever she is looking for. 'Eleyna!" She calls out.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

That dance gets no easier the longer that it lasts. As the raven-masked woman matches his every movement, the next seems purposely derived to challenge her to keep up. He bends his masked face toward his partner and murmurs something, still yet maintaining that dance. As Sorrel sings along with the discordant music, it seems to shift and change with her voice, in some places almost deliberately discordant against her lovely soprano. Yet, in others, it's as if her voice and the instruments are paired together with absolute perfection.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures tried not to, perhaps, but it was too easy. Maybe it's the music. Or maybe it was what she saw. She passes a mirror and stops. She lifts her hand, turns it so the back of it faces the mirror and curls her fingers nearly into a fist. She stares, defiant, into the mirror itself. "I will have control." The waver in her voice is probably just from the music. Probably.

Wash stops in his waltz and looks at Alarissa. Concern crosses his features and he removes his mask, heading in his cousin's direction. "Alarissa? Cousin?" He asks, coming close enough to get into her line of sight but not touching her. "Are you unwell?"

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask speaks low. "You wonder." He pauses as Sorrel sings, as Sorrel harmonizes and then jarringly contrasts, "If there's another way. If Dream and Nightmare could coexist without plague and corruption wrecking the one. What does the Nightmare fear? Too much light, too much harmony?" He hums, tonelessly, tunelessly. "I do like the music. Art cannot subsist on light alone."

Pulling some too-perfect stones, Polyanthus stares at the results of his handiwork and shakes his head, turning them over to the Bloodmoon. "Not all that glitters," he adds, in giving the large imitation stone. "Back to the mirrors."

It is as if the woman was made to dance, or had been dancing her whole life, every day; and she glides, undulates, presses her body now upon her partner's chest to hold him closer to herself as if they were long-ago lovers reunited. Each step is perfect, delicate. She moves as if she was made to move with him - and the effect is simply mesmerizing, captivating.

Someone wearing a transgressively plain silk mask enters the ballroom, moving to the side so as to not block the way of the steady stream of people going in and out with his considerable bulk, umbra robes hanging to the floor and dragging somewhat as he walks doing nothing to conceal broad shoulders. There he puts his hands together and watches. The dancers, the challengers, the musicians and singer. After some time he pushes away and moves to get himself a glass of wine and head over to loiter near a seat.

The singing and the dancing both draw Bloodmoon once more form her companion, neck craning to watch. When he comes forth with the prize, however, she cups a hand to hold out - and is rewarded with the imitation stone. She glances down at her palm, her smile not faltering despite the relative worthlessness of such a gift. But hey, she gave him a bone so - they're even. "I love it," she manages, sounding completely genuine as she tucks the stone away for safe keeping. She hooks her arm in his again and moves back to the mirrors, ever an eye on the dancing.

Someone wearing a transgressively plain silk mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

"Eleyna is here." Alarisa's right hand comes to Wash's shoulder and had she had a left, it would have too instead of awkward movement on the left side. "I heard her. I smelled her. She's here. Help me find her. I miss my friend. I need to know what she meant."

A guard steps up to the woman in a periwinkle veil and whispers something. The woman gives a negative shake of her head and does not move from where she is standing. She seems uneasy, but she recognizes the voice that rises in song. She listens to the song and watches the dancers. The woman in white draws her attention, and she replies to her in a low voice.

"Uh..." Wash looks around for Victus. "It's the mirrors highness." He says calmingly holding her hand on his shoulder with both of his.

Someone wearing a massive leather shark mask with ruby-ringed eyes and sapphire waves is hastily on Alarissa's heels, pressing a hand against her shoulder as he comes up upon her side. "Hey. 'Rissa." He squeezes. "I think it's about time we went home."

Zelda, the royal messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs before departing.

Someone wearing white dragon mask continues to sing, her mask pushed out of her way so that she is not muffled. The tune gets more complicated, and the music swirls, beautifully harmonious and exquisitely discordant, and if Sorrel cares much about occasionally not being in tune with the musicians, she's too much of an artist to show it. There's something wonderful about it all, even when it's so decidedly wrong. Her voice is hauntingly sweet.

"Here's an idea. We look at their reflections." Polyanthus suggests, upnodding to the mirrors in front of them, though his gaze shifts to a rather perturbed person with the macabre mask. "We should probably ask what has agitated that woman so much, though. Maybe she'll see more in the mirror than I have. What have you seen, though?"

Someone wearing midnight and crimson simple mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs stands from her throne, moving down the stairs slowly as she watches as people have paired up in small darkened corners, upon the dance floor, and in doorways. There is a smile on the features that are visable as she watches those enjoying themselves within the ballroom. She freezes upon seeing a mirror as well, much has others have. Her hand touches the surface, and she freezes, fingers curling and nails scraping as if to reach whatever is on the other side. Then she jumps, startled, spinning around expecting to see someone but finding another familiar face as Zelda approaches. There is confusion, sadness, though a smile for the woman and softly spoken apologies for the mixture of emotion. As a servant passes, she reaches for two glasses of wine, apparently both for her.

Wash nods with incongruous pleasure at seeing a shark arrive. "I think Catalana has already departed as well. It was a nice ball. So many beautiful masks."

'The veil is thinnest between the mirrors and us. Not the shining lands. Not on this night." Alarissa corrects Wash. "It's not the mirror. I saw what was in the mirror. I saw her with both her arms and that same look on her face and the haughty look. She waved what I was missing. She was not in the mirror. Eleyna was not in the mirror." The shark approaches, his hand to her shoulder as she starts to tear up. 'She's here. She's here Victus. She's here I can smell her. I heard her. She said this was not for me."

Of the guests that linger in the ballroom, not a few are mesmerized by the song. It is indeed haunting, a melody that has veered from the outright horror it threatened to become into something both puzzling and heartbreaking. The notes are all wrong, Sorrel's melody seeming at contrast to the harsher dissonance of the instruments and yet... together, it is beautiful. The masked man and his partner continue to dance, their steps changing with the song. The raven-masked woman does not falter while in the man's arms, no matter how he moves.

Bloodmoon looks to the mirror as directed, and she begins to slide her arm from his. "I am afraid I must leave you to those musing on your own." Was it something he said? Something in the mirror? She turns to smile to him, her hand reaching out to squeeze his hand. "If you somehow find me outside of this entire chaos, then I will tell you all you wish to know." The promise made, she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, and then she turns to make her grand (quiet) exit.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil whispers something with the periwinkle woman, and then turns her head (hat) towards the singing. That captivates her as well, apparently... or at least, it's easy to imagine so, with her face literally a blank white sheet. Then, the Ethereal Black Widow enters the Lady in White's gaze, and said Lady in White leans down to the Lady in Periwinkle: "Think it over. But not for too long, or I may find myself otherwise engaged."

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures is lost between song and continued vexation at her own reflection (or mayhap something beyond). She does drop her hand eventually, shuddering with a step away. Both arms lift then, heels of palms coming up to scrub at face and only briefly lifting mask to do so before setting it back in place.

Someone wearing a ruby and diamond encrusted mask of the Bloodmoon has left the The Immorality Couch.

"I know. I saw-" The Shark pulls off his head, with a drenched Victus underneath. "-I saw her too. But it wasn't right. It's not who you think it is." He looks back to Wash. "You should -- Yeah. It's late. We're all seeing things. We shouldn't linger." He gives a small tug to Alarissa's shoulder. "C'mon. We got mirrors at home, the blood moon isn't going anywhere in a hurry."

Wash thinks for a moment. "I'm going to stick it out for a bit. I recognized at least one more Kennex here." He admits. "By your leave your grace." Wash concedes.

Once his partner leaves, Polyanthus half-turns to regard her as she departs, touching his fingertips to his cheek and considering something quietly. He turns, then, making his way to the woman with the macabre winged mirrormask, settling his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you look away? Mirrors are elusive. I saw nothing except my mask."

Someone wearing a periwinkle veil looks from the Ethereal Black Widow to the lady in white with heavy lided eyes and whispers.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather folds arms, leans against the wall, at a distance. The mouth the mask reveals pulls into a frown, and for a moment eyes turn toward the shark coming off the head of... Victus. Whatever that means, it at least doesn't seem to be an additional reason to frown, mouth pinching in at the corners. That's all the music and the mirrors and the dancers.

She's tugged gently, and careful steps keep her from tripping over her own skirts but she moves with Victus, shaking her head back and forth. "It's not the mirrors." She keeps repeating, tears welling up, tripping over her lower lids. But she moves towards the exit with him, the disparity in height between them so evident.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs moves towards where Victus and Alarissa stand, her voice soft, "go rest, my sweet. You have been through a lot this evening, a lot this year. Know that Eleyna would never cause you pain. Know that" the woman says more firmly.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil pats the hand of the periwinkle-veiled woman, and murmurs something. Then she moves away, walking with purposeful (if weighed-down by steel spikes) strides towards the Black Widow, after she says her goodbyes with Victus and Alarissa. "You have put together an excellente fete. I'm honored to have attended," she says to the hostess. "Unfortunately, with that honor also comes no small amount of horror and trouble at what I saw in the mirrors. To adequately soothe my tattered, shredded nerves I must ask a favor of you: three servants, be they farmhands, stable boys, whatever their part, so long as they're musclebound, attractive, and ideally some combination of stupid and aggressive. I promise I shall return them in mostly the condition I found them." The woman in white sounds quite serious about this, like it's not a joke. "Ah! No, not really." Or was it a joke? "It should be four of them. An alternate, in case one can't keep up the pace." It was not a joke.

"It's alright, 'Rissa." Victus' hand latches a bit more firmly onto her shoulder. "It's alright. You know she has a tendency to linger. Remember that dinner? It'll pop up again, I'm sure of it." He dips his chin toward Wash. "You have a goodnight, Lord Wash." And onto the Black Widow that appears at their side. "This was a really nice party, cousin. I'm sorry I contaminated your pool. I get a little overzealous with the shark thing." He looks back toward Alarissa while they drift closer to the exit. "... We should probably get her a gift basket to make up for that. Remind me, what goes in a gift basket?"

The woman in a periwinkle veil gives one of the steel tines of the women in white a playful tink and nods a farewell to her. "Until we meet again, my lady." The lightness is a little edged, though, as the pain in Alarissas voice is heard, and the discordant music is still there despite Sorrel's perfect voice and the equisit dance. Before she can make her farewells to the host the woman in white does. The Periwinkle veiled woman blinks.

Someone wearing a disquieting seaglass-shattered columbina mirrormask pipes up when Victus asks what goes in a gift basket. "Olives," she says helpfully.

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures does draw away from the mirror to stare at Polyanthus for a moment. She considers him before her eyes drop to the necklace he wears. Something eases a bit in her shoulders, but what she says is: "I'm not so sure they're elusive as all that."

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask leaves the couch where she sits to look into one of the mirrors like the one in the Replica mask suggested. she does this out of idle curiosity, not expecting to see anything more than her own reflection.

And, just like that, the music stops, leaving the ballroom filled with an eerie, uncomfortable silence. The masked dancer takes a step back from his partner, bows low over her hand and kisses it, before straightening and walking away toward the doors.

"Everything is wrong in it. A warning could be encouragement. Encouragement could be a warning. Right is left." Polyanthus lowers his voice to add something, then steps away. "I'm on my way out. Would you like to accompany me?" He pauses, though, at the abrupt ending of the music and the departure of the masked dancer.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs lifts her attention towards the woman in the white veiled hat, listening to her list of desires. She takes a sip of one of the glasses of wine, asking the obvious question, "what will you do with these servants? Do they have to be male, you did not actually state such. Does the condition they go with you factor into the condition I receive them in?" The wine is tilted, the first glass downed and then handed over to a table. "Unfortunately I can not give anyone to anyone else unless they go themselves. Even farmhands. I also assume no responsibility for what was seen within the reflections tonight, for it was not my doing and if I claimed such it would be an affront to Lord Tehom himself, and I for one am not so stupid as to claim credit for his and company's actions."

Alarissa stares at the widow, lips pressed then nods, following Victus out the door. "It's not the mirror. She left the flowers in our bedroom." She sounds so sure of it, even as they're leaving. "She's here..."

Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures bites lightly at her lower lip at Polyanthus' invitation before stepping forward to follow him. Whatever he says earns a small nod in answer. "Please," she says quietly, reaching a hand out to place on his arm. She does, however, pause to watch the departure of the dancer; gone as quickly as he arrived.

The woman in the raven-mirrorsilver mask continues her graceful, evocative movements across the floor as Sorrel sings, as others move to say goodbye - and still, the woman's gaze, attention does not falter from what would be her companion's eyes.

And at that, the dance ends; and at that, her partner withdraws. Her mask so large that not a single glint of expression can be discerned, but the woman's feet still with the end of the dance - as simply as if she had never begun, albeit with quite a bit more peace. Relinquishing her naked hand to the man, she watches - then flinches deeply, her hand withdrawing into a tightly-curled fist hidden beneath the feathered cloak. She watches, lingers. Says nothing else.

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil replies, completely deadpan, to the obvious question: "Cardiovascular exercise." She seems unfazed by the response, but as ever, her face is veiled completely. Not even her eyes show through. "Certainly, I would not pressgang them into anything. That would be barbaric, and poor manners besides. However, the opportunity exists to calm a truly hysterical woman while she keeps her mask quite on."

Wash puts his mask on top of his head like a hat and wanders the room again, free to drink now that the mask isn't hiding his face.

Victus has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Lilybelle - The Claw of Arx leaves, following Victus.

The woman in a periwinkle veil walks to the woman in a raven makes. She removes her silk periwinkle veil to show her face, staedy, and asks, "Are you well? Do you need assistance?"

"Quite alright," the woman's voice comes, melodious and kind. "That was quite a dance, and he, quite the partner." The woman pauses, her eyes visible to Peri as she turns to the woman. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"As I expected," says the Lion. "Just my reflection."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head before departing.

Zelda, the royal messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a large mirrorsilver mask in the shape of a raven's head before departing.

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs looks around the ballroom for a moment, considering, "the servants can take the rest of the evening off to enjoy the blood moon and this can all be cleaned up afterwards. I shall even grant you a room within the estate if you wish, and they can come visit if they choose. Is that acceptable?"

Someone wearing a lifelike White Lion mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing Polyanthus mask leaves, following Someone wearing a macabre winged mirrormask riveted by sooty fissures.

Wash smiles at the mirrormask. "If the evening is over, I'll take my leave. I won't need a room. But this was..." He pauses. "Interesting. I've seen the power of the Gods before. This seems like it was... something like that." He bows to the woman in the cobweb veil. "By your leave your Grace."

Someone wearing an ethereal black widow mirrormask shattered by moon-shadow cobwebs dips her head towards Wash as he requests, "of course, Lord Wash. Thank you for coming this evening and I hope it has not scared you away from returning to the Velenosa estate in the future. I am certain you will leave as you arrived even then."

Turning towards the woman in the black widow mirrormask with a deep curtsy and a left-handed lift of her cloak, the woman who danced so elegantly upon the ballroom floor speaks. "My lady, I thank you for hosting this beautiful, eventful, mysterious ball - so well-attended and truly in the very spirit intended for such a celebration. Might I have a moment, though, to find a prize within your pool?"

Peri takes a while to consider her answer. "Yes, but," She glances furtively to the woman in white. She gazes all around the dance hall and the mirrors and the other guests. "It does not seem as though other guests had as an enjoyable time," she says with concern.

Wash calls out. "Zoey? Are you staying, or do I have to walk home?"

Someone wearing a wide brim white hat with a shoulder-length veil perhaps gives herself away with the absolute, exacting precision of her curtsy to the Ethereal Black Widow. "Excessively generous, your Grace," she replies. "I shall always remember the kindness of spiders when their webs cross the corners of my home."

"I think I'll come home with you," Zoey answers Wash.

Wash bows to the duchess, or at least who he presumes to be the duchess, and offers Zoey his arm.

Octavian, a silken spaniel leaves, following Zoey.

Zoey leaves, following Wash.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather pushes away from the pillar and leaves the shadowy corner, moving vaguely toward the door, but at a slow clip.

Someone wearing a simple full-face mask in black leather has left the Shadowy Corner.

Stepping to the pool with an attendant, the woman in the mirrorsilver raven mask leans down, her tightly-furled right hand reaching into the murky depths. Her arm moves, lingers, moves - halts, then withdraws, dripping dark ink that stains some of the feathers on her cloak. But grasped tightly in her hand is an ingot of sparkling diamondplate, catching reflections from the remaining light and glittering like starlight. "Ha-ha!" the woman's voice comes, cheerfully. "My thanks to you, my lady. You are a generous and gracious host." With another left-handed curtsy, the woman turns and scans the room.

When the last people approach the pool to test their luck, the attendant moves to clean the area. It is not hard, a single drain in the center attached to a chain. He wraps it around a single finger and tugs, and in a moment the water drains away towards the unknown. Strangely, there seems to be nothing in the pool at all, no fish or eels, no metals or gems. The pool sits empty.