Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask arrives, following Fortunato.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets arrives, following Lucita.

10 King's Own Guardsmen, Zelda, the royal messenger arrive, following Alaric.

Within the ballroom, seated upon the thrones are-- presumably-- the masked archduchess and archduke. They remain seated and silent for the time being, letting everyone filter in, while the room is filled with servants. A taste of the Lyceum's festivities has made its way to Arx and the demonstration of wealth within the south has come too.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales enters in vermillion and gold which, at least, blends in with the Blood Moon's sullen, crimson light. He moves in and to the side, pausing for a moment, draconic snoot turned up to the domed ceiling. Expression is hard to make out, but there's a smile half seen under the mask, and the bow towards the thrones is deep and respectful.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask arrives, a lean, small man in black unmitigated save for slivers of red threaded through his waistcoat, red accented by the glow of the sky. He escorts a taller woman in a black rose mask, crowned and trailing silk roses in the train of her dress.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree walks in and looks skyward, noting the new ceiling. Her fingers brush at a bracelet on her wrist. Ambling to the thrones and seated hosts, her curtsy is respectful, if small. Her lips curve in a small smile as she greets them.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask walks into the ballroom, her hand tucked in the crook of her escort's elbow and glances around. Her arm lifts in a discrete gesture directing his gaze upward at the dome as the two move away from the entry.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth wanders through the door, a lumbering frame of a man hidden beneath one of the many jagged teeth of the mask. He's not a figure that looks particularly happy, but all signs of expression are simply just that gleaming, silver grin plastered on his 'face'. The rest of him clad in a mixture of frayed leather jacket, pants, and steel boots as well. He curls one silver hand up into his sleeve, raising it up to give a brisk wave toward the throne along with an awkward bow.

Alaric is wearing a rather stylish green and gold half-mask, actually. It's just that he's also wearing the Crown of the Compact and still being followed around by the stalwart King's Own, so in all honesty he could be wearing a mask over a mask over another mask and it'd still INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS who he is. Such is life as the most high-profile person in Arvum. Up he proceeds to the thrones, bright smile in full display as he offers a perfect courtly bow of appreciation. "Grand Duchess, Prince Consort, it's a pleasure to be here on the Lyceum's favored holiday," he says appreciatively. "I'm looking forward to seeing the fruits of House Velenosa's preparations for the festivities."

Correction! The woman in the black rose mask's dress trails actual roses, no substitutes accepted.

Beside that shark, a metal mask upon her face, she walks with her arm in his free one. Her dress but low in the chest, sleeveless and trailng behind her some, covered in polished silver discs till they shine like mirrors. When the Shark offers that bow to the hosts, the infernal does a well, before looking to the others present.

The man with the cerberus' head turns toward the king and he inclines his head in turn, deeply, a smile from within the maw. "Your majesty, thank you. We hope you enjoy your time and witness something extraordinary this evening. You are welcome to go wherever you like, yet the floor up here especially welcomes you, alongside us. Wait until the pinnacle moment, we will be basking in the glow of the Eclipse."

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets moves in with his date looking up at the dome then lean in to whisper to the person on h is arm leaning in to whisper as they make their way inot the ballroom further a small smirk on his lips as they do.

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask enters the ballroom at the side of a man in black and slivers of red, in a soot dog mirrormask that strikes more dangerous and threatening than her own. Her head is held high, dark hair gathered and twisted into a coiled rose. There is grace in the line of her shoulders, in the arch of her back, but just beneath that shadow sweet grace is the edge of power.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask slips into the room and slips her mask on as she does so, moving into the crowd. She looks vaguely uncomfortable -- masked events are clearly not her primary choice of pastime -- but an air of curiosity suggests she's come to spectate this most grand of Lycene traditions nonetheless. She offers a nod to those she passes, examining the different masks with interest.

Isabetta standing near the edge of the ballroom tugs her mask off to fan her face, her face flush.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death places her mask on upon arrival and slips in to the crowd. First stop, the Throne. "Quite a striking pair. This is well put together." She compliments the two currently occupying those seats.

As the crowd of masked figures begins to gather in the ballroom, convening in the ruddy light that fills the marble hall with otherwordly ambience, the masked figure seated upon the Grand Duchess' throne rises. She is clad in a mixture of darkest black and brightest white fabrics, contrasting disconcertingly with one another as they cling to the woman's body. Her pale skin only seems to compliment the attire. Even within the nest of upswept curls are tucked black hellebore flowers that stand out against the paler blond strands. She clears her throat, gloved hands outstretched as the familiar, husky voice of Eleyna Velenosa rises and begins to speak.

"Welcome one and all to the Mirror's Masquerade. This is only one of the many events that are held all over the Lyceum to celebrate the Eclipse of Mirrors. Tonight, we bring a taste of the Lyceum's most important festivals to Arx. And, to help us celebrate, the Thirteenth himself joins us to share in our merry-making. Don't be nervous. I don't think he is in the mood to do any reaping tonight, but, then again, you never know." With a sly smile bestowed upon the crowd, the Archduchess then extends her hand to gesture to a robed and masked figure wearing the visage of He Who Waits Behind the Mirror.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales makes his way over to the refreshments, taking up a slender glass of wine. He has to push the mask up a little to reveal his face so that he can properly appreciate it, of course, providing a glimpse of the Legate's stern features under the fierce dragon's mask. He looks around with pleasure, even delight, at all the varieties in costume. His attention turns toward the dias as the stand-in for Tehom is announced.

Cicero makes an appearance wearing a mirror mask. really. he is. promise.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite replies to Crimson Death, "It is what House Velenosa does best, fashion and festivities, no? It hasn't even begun, yet I am of the same mind. I am heavily biased." With the archduchess' address, he rises himself, yet steps forward when she steps back so he may tack on his own additions in due course.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask looks promptly and, if body language is any indication, delightedly at the man in the Tehom mask. He even claps, scant, almost inaudible, twice.

Once the introduction is out of the way, she can focus on greetings. To the King, she offers a dip of her head, bare shoulders shifting as she says with a smile, "It is a pleasure to have you here. I do hope you enjoy yourself, your majesty." One of those pale blue eyes winks at Alaric from beneath the mask before she moves on to the next as the masked figure at her side addresses Crimson Death.

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask with outrageous enthusiasm compared to Stygian Soot Dog's almost inaudible one-two-clap. CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales places the wine glass aside, and tugs the mask down back into place, to join in the applause.

Letting out a breath, the woman in the blue and silver mask and white dress finds a convenient spot to lean and cross her arms under her chest. She tracks her vision down to her bracelet and resists the urge to fuss with it again now that her curtsy is made. She looks back up at the sky light and watches the main even.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death lowers her head respectfully to the King when the Archduchess addresses him. Her expression is completely hidden by the full-faced mask, though her eyes seem to lock intensely. "Good evening, Your Majesty."

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars drifts into the festivities, gaze lifted - that glimpse of eyes behind the silk are wide, pupils blown - looking toward the domed ceiling of the ballroom. A less than elegant pause of steps, caught offguard, before composure is regained and Twilight is off to secure a glass of wine. Lycene, dark, the color of garnets. It tastes of bruised fruits, and twilight licks her lips, and continues to circulate the room in order to admire the other masks.

There's a small 'thud, thud, thud' as the shark's metallic hands smack together for the announcement. It's not the most enthusiastic, but it certainly leaves its impression. Turning back to the womanly figure wearing the flaming mask he murmurs, "Gonna find the drinks." with a small gesture to her stomach. With that he moves along to the refreshment table, though one keen eye is still being kept on the stand-in for Tehom. A raised brow underneath the sharky exterior.

3 Grayson Guardsmen arrives, following Calarian.

Isabetta toys with her mask in her hand, looking quite disappointed with it as she turns it over, standing out of the way and kind of on her own.

The woman in the Starry stygian mirrormask applauds Cerberus' words, and offers a respectful curtsey to the king as well. Her attention turns then not to the drinks, but to the great glass view above. Her expression is concealed beneath her mask, but there's an air of general thoughtfulness, as if she's mulling over the implications of the night's festivities.

The Cerberus speaks with louder version of the same brand of bassy notes known from Talen Velenosa: "By tradition, Tehom joins us and we welcome Him, He is an honoured guest within this home. Our honoured guests are given the respect and those within these halls will uphold said respect. To do otherwise insults House Velenosa, the Lyceum and the Thirteenth. The first rule," he calls, "is under no circumstance do you do Tehom the disservice of doubting His godhood. He is here, tonight. He is here, with us. There is no man amongst us wearing His face, there is only He Who Waits Behind the Mirror." A pause. "Second. You do not touch Tehom unless He touches you. Then, you are welcomed." Another pause. "And lastly, He will pick His favoured and that is that. We do not quibble with gods. Enjoy the evening, mingle and wait and watch for what it has in store for you."

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask releases the arm of her escort to clap as the others do. When the ebb and flow of the gathering brings her close enough to the thrones and king, A properly respectful curtsy is given, the feathery details of her garment making graceful fluttery movements. She stays quiet, listening to what is said.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' walks into the room, followed by three guardsmen wearing the Grayson color - the only indication that this man fares from the royal family. He walks with effortless grace, a silk and fur cloak sporting the green griffin gliding behind his straightened shoulders, both of his hands clasped behind his back. Dark-colored eyes peek at the people behind the whites of the half-mask, evenly-pressed lips appearing in consideration of something.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask notices Isabetta and when the shark speaks of heading for drink and she nods. "I see a new friend. Bring one for her too." And the infernal flames starts to move toward isabetta though it's no evident of the smile under the mask and when near the woman, comes to stand beside her. "Normally, one -wears- the mask. Doesn't just hold it in their hand."

Alaric smiles appreciatively to the cerberus (picking the middle head to address for simplicity's sake). "Of course, I wouldn't miss it," he agrees personably before grinning to the Grand Duchess. "Rest assured, I intend to." With another light bow, he clears out to let them recieve other well-wishers and regards the Tehom-masked individual with no small amount of curiosity. But up to him comes a lady in Crimson Death, and he regards her with a smile. "Good evening, m'lady," he replies. "What do you think, should I go talk to Tehom before the poor man is swarmed under by curious party-goers?"

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales takes a sip from his wine, and wanders over to where Isabetta is contemplating her mask. "Surely it has not done anything so terrible as to deserve that look?" he asks, a half-grin flashing from underneath the mask. He nods to the Infernal Shadow, who seems to have the same idea.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask adds to his applause a quiet commentary as the Cerberus finishes. "Oh, it's everything I might've hoped for. The atmosphere! The seriousness. It's like old stories spun real and spun a little bit dark." He turns a sharper attention to the Cerberus. "That one is a far better dog than I, but I will bark my best while I'm here."

In iron-gray silk from top to toe but for the splash of sky-blue on her silk mask, a tallish slender woman makes her entrance alone. She's just in time to catch the Cerberus' announcement, head tilted with an air of puzzlement before her dark gaze sweeps up and up to the new dome, and the sky beyond it.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree bows low to Tehom and their hosts and goes to find some refreshments. Her fingers fidget with her bracelet again as she walks and sea blue eyes scan for familiar faces. The lion mask gets a wave-that one she knows.

Isabetta turns toward the fellow in the infernal shadow mask and complains, "I think mine is defective." She looks at her mask in her hand and pouts, "I know waiting until the last moment was a foolish decision." She stares at the figure for a moment then her frown grows, "I'm not nearly as well dressed as you are."

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death looks in Tehom's direction and then back to the King. Silently she considers for a moment before speaking. "I think it only right you make the first move to say hello. If you'd like company, I have a free arm. Though I must warn you. Death waits for no man."

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask hooks her arm around Stygian Soot Dog's, and kisses him upon the cheek. "Tonight, I think, will be the perfect night to speak of illusion," she says to him, and releases him after. "Come and find me with a bottle of wine once you're ready. Once you've had your fill of darkness!"

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Tehom steps within the ballroom once he is announced, the light glinting off the twisted face of the ruler of the Abyss as he begins walking through the crowd. Each step, metallic armor and heavy unseen chains clink underneath the tenebrous umbra robes that flutter like shadow. He speaks, his voice dark, "Generations ago for you mortals but what seems like just a few days for me, I heard of an Archduchess that dared to host an event in my name. Uninvited, I walked among you all and spoke to each. But it was the Archduchess who answered my riddle and from that I choose her as my favored for the evening. Tonight, you all are here...from the highest to the lowest, all come to pay homage to me on my most hallowed night. Mortals! The Thirteenth is among you! Listen to my words, step up to the challenges given and you just might find within yourself tonight the blessings that I can give." The figure moves more through the crowd.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth with a nod toward the Infernal lady, the Shark stalks off. One glass apparently not enough as he just outright takes an entire bottle and then another glass with it, clinking between his fingers. He returns at the Flame's side, with a filled glass of something Lyceum and fruity laid down for Isabetta. "You should try smiling more. Parties have people smiling a whole lot." The drink makes a hallowed noise as it drains through the steel teeth that made up that Sharky grin and into the gullet within.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' looks aside at his Grayson guards and his evenly-pressed lips produce a honeyed tone of voice, "Well. I suppose it truly is an anonymous festivity." He clears his throat and encourages his guards, "Follow me." A hand comes from behind his back to press against the stomach of his cloak, over the green griffin. His dark-colored eyes are looking at Tehom as he speaks, and for a moment, he seems entranced by the man's words. Eventually, there's a slow drop of his head. And then off he goes, moving.

"You're dressed quite appropriately," the dragonmasked man tells Isabetta, kindly. "This is an occasion for revelry and joy, not judging yourself against others." A pause. "Well, in so far as any gathering of the peerage is not an occasion for judging oneself against others." He winks at her, before his eyes turn towards the armored Tehom, a smile playing over his lips.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite has three heads to speak to, so one has to be picked, after all. As Alaric makes his decisions on where to go, Cerberus reaches over and trails his fingers over the back of the Grand Duchess'. "How long?" he asks, idly, looking upwards. Watching Tehom, his eyes follow the man, rapt from beyond his mask.

Mirrors cover the ballroom, as would be expected for such an event. The shimmering surfaces reflect the crowd, reflect the dull, red light of the moon above, yet, oddly, when one looks into the mirror, there seem to be more people reflected than actually stand before it. Strange.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask lifts his fangy maw as black rose draws away. "Ah, I suppose it won't be terribly long as all that. You stand in such a ballroom as this, it's almost experience enough." He points toward the mirrors and treads toward the woman in iron-gray silk. To point more pointedly. "Ah! Do you see the mirrors? The reflected crowd? Isn't this spectacular?"

"It's not broken, it's not worn." The infernal shadow lifts her mask enough to let the fierce dragon and Isabetta see who it is with a smile and then lowers the mask again. She looks over toward Tehom as the masked figure speaks, tilting her head a fraction in curiosity before turning attention back to the pair and then the shark when it joins. "Legate. A lovely costume, if I may be so bold as to be allowed to judge." The shadowed infernal does her best to not actually look at the mirrors though. The fruity drink is eyed, and then the drink the shark downs but she doesn't move to take anything alcoholic.

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask makes her way towards a location with drinks, pausing before a mirror to stare into it and slowly raise one hand to her silk-covered neck before shaking herself a little all over and reaching for a glass of something blood-dark.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets looks in Tehom's direction his blue eyes following the figure, his hand moves to hold onto the person he is with. He looks around at everyone and everything, taking a deep breath he looks to the songbird. "I helped build a nirror ball room back home. Perhaps some time we will be able to host such a ball." he says softly.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask watches Tehom move through the crowd with curiosity, starting off in that direction. Challenges, it seems, sound like a far more enticing pastime for a gathering than mere drinks do. But as she does so, her attention is caught by the mirrors; she comes to a halt standing next to Sky-Smoke and regarding the reflections with a sort of wary fascination.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree collects a glass of wine and watches Tehom for a moment, it seems like a sensible idea to avoid bumping into a God. She makes her way toward the King to greet him with a curtsy. "Good evening your Majesty." She offers and smiles. "It's lovely to see Lycene traditions being embraced, is it not?" She wonders. The mirrors don't bother her.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars seems to be in a very confusing whirl. Eventually, Twilight in somber blue is seeking a quiet corner to continue observing. The wine reflects in the glass. The revelers reflect in the mirrors. The strange moonlight that is tinting everything dull red. It's frightening. It's thrilling.

Isabetta seems to wilt under the attention she receives and finally tells the person in the infernal mask, "I.. I need to hide in my room for a hundred years." She quickly excuses herself for the doors.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite steps quietly inside, late yet no less present, features hidden beneath the mask of Duality. He does not yet move in any particular direction, instead taking time to take an overview of those gathered within.

Alaric offers his arm to Crimson Death. "I think I've been sufficiently forewarned about Death, but thank you nonetheless," he replies dryly with a wink. "Well then, shall we go greet the Thirteenth in style?" With an escort in tow, straightaway to Tehom he goes after the announcement. "Tehom, you grace us all with your presence tonight," he says with a respectful bow. "I hope that you find tonight's devotions pleasing."

The deep hue of the room's purplish crimson colouring was visible even early evening, as dull as small blush, like duskstone refracting against a surface. As the night drags on, the colours are definitely deepening, the atmosphere of intimate privacy growing. Yet, so too do the nervous giggles and laughs build when people pass by darker sections of the room. The occasional joker playing cruel jokes on others to make them jump or start isn't helping, yet for now it all seems like festive fun.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales bows to the Infernal Shadow. "Why, thank you. An excellent tailor was kind enough to make it. A Mistress Harall. I can only highly recommend her services." He glances around at the mirrored ballroom, his head tilting to one side as he watches the reflections of the revelers. A glance back at Isabetta as she flees. "...goodness. My apologies for having overwhelmed the young woman."

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask turns towards the starry mirrormask and studies her a moment, then lifts her glass briefly towards the mirror she's standing before. "Always a bit unsettling when you see things in the mirror that aren't in the room with you," she notes, probably a sort of 'how's the weather'-type comment for a Mirror Masquerade.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask's gaze slips from person to person among the gathering, stopping to study the reflected images a moment and passes on to see Tehom, lingering there before she replies to the comment directed toward her, looking toward the one speaking. "That does sound like something to plan later. This is so grand, here!"

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death takes the arm of the King when it is offered, walking gracefully with him towards Tehom. The sway of the red dress only seems to enhance the aura about her. Dangerous and unforgiving. And as the King addresses the God, she inclines her head respectfully to him as well. "It is an honor." She says simply, keeping to Alaric's side.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask shakes her head. "She is new to the city, she will adjust. I have great faith in her. She has a great deal of interest in duels and the traditions and codicils that revolve around them." isabetta's gone. so she's taking up that rusty drink with it's alcohol and looking to the hark before the mask is slipped up just barely enough to take a drink and not reveal who they are.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask makes his way through those gathered, drifting through the crowd until he finds himself some refreshment, taking it in hand before once more casting eyes upon the crowd, looking out among the masked figures and enjoying taking in each unique design. A few moments are spent admiring the view above through the glass-domed ceiling, with an attempt not to bump into others while doing so.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth snorts softly as the woman flees. The breath exhaled as if through a narrow, dark tunnel that was the Shark's maw. "She'll probably adjust. Parties like this one isn't exactly the 'norm' anyhow. I can see how it'd be a little... eh..." He turns his snout toward the ceiling. The colors, the mirrors, the way they shined and danced around... Yeah it wasn't what he would call a cozy atmosphere. "You get the idea." He turns then to one of the mirrors, staring into it for a moment. He even raises a hand to brush his fingers against the surface. "Anxious. Not a bad feeling though, when you're having fun."

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask leans past sky-smoke to examine the mirror in the sky's blush. A little closer. "What a wonder." The fanged thing shouldn't sound quite so enthusiastic. If his enthusiasm is not without a little tremor of unease. "Certainly a different kind of, hm, religious event, isn't it? Gets the blood up."

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite leans over the rail and looks down below, considering those who move before he calls, seemingly at random. "Raven." A pause, then a pointed finger, down to the blue and grey raven masked man. "Come up here, if you would? Bring a drink, you might need it. I have a task for you."

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars speaks up, "All of the eyes follow you, sky-and-smoke, if you watch them long enough." With a sip of wine, continuing. "Is it unsettling to be seen from every ankle and yet hide behind a mask, I wonder."

Someone wearing a glimmering columbina mask slips in without obvious attendants, though she doesn't venture too very far into the ballroom immediately. She scans the place, the people, the masks, and soon enough she's moving into the crowd, circling 'round until she finds herself a glass of something to drink and a good spot to observe from.

"Oh? And who was she?" the Dragon Mask asks the Infernal Shadow, leaning a bit towards her with interest. "I'm sure I've not seen her before, but if you should see her again, please tender my regards and apologies." He looks up at the sky, that rusty red light, and then extends a hand towards the Infernal Shadow. "Would you care to dance? I promise to keep you mostly out of the shadows," he adds, teasingly.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree falls back and resumes watching the sky and the mirrors passively. She takes a moment to shake her long black hair down her back, studying her own reflection shrewdly.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets nods his head, "This will be my first time being as cush a Masq as this and with the Thirteenth present." he breaths deeply, "Would you like a drink?" he gives her a nervous smile.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes discretely slips into the ballroom amongst the crowd, trying to blend in, despite looking like she is trying way too hard, but after a moment seems to relax. She seeks out the drinks, looking desperate to get a glass in her hand and lifts the mask just enough to drain it entirely in one undignified draw. She's thankfully a little more careful and moderated with the second glass. She finds herself watching the mirror for a moment before starting to pick her way around the room and boldly checking out the costumes and masks.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' walks through the crowds aimlessly, being followed by his guards -- and his gaze begins to focus on the mirrors, the people in the festivities, that effect the reflection has on the crowds. A nondescript mask plays a prank on another mask, bidding a slight startle and a giggle from the victim -- and Trust has to wait before he can continue in his way to the drinks. Somewhere along the way, he looks up at the sky -- and eventually decides to comment to someone random -- the someone with the elegant mask of blue with Silver Filigree, "Nights such as this seem to be strange, don't they? There's something about the sky today." He looks up at the sky again. "Something about the sky just today," he repeats, in a lower tone of voice.

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask tosses Stygian Soot a look over her shoulder as she leaves him. "I suspect you have less capacity for darkness than you might imagine," she says, and though she asked him to bring a bottle of wine when he finally joins her, she takes one on her way back to the couch just in case. One bottle of wine, two bottles of wine, not a problem either way.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask settles her hand in the dragons hand, a glance to the Shark. "Try not to get in too much trouble, or pulled through mirror while I'm gone." he chides softly, passing off the drink to another. "Lady Isabetta Golden. More at home in leathers than in silk." But she moves off with the red dragon toward the dance floor. "I will return" She promises the Shark.

Tehom looks towards Alaric and Crimson Death as they approach. There's a dark laugh given to the King, although Tehom looks slowly over Crimson Death on his arm. "I'm pleased when mortals pay homage to me as is my right, and I watch you all from behind the Mirror as you each play your games. Have you brought me a gift?" There's another dark laugh given. "A pity though you all don't understand just how long I can wait. I recognize and will speak with you, fourth of your name." with a clawed gesture for the masked Alaric to step closer.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask turns towards Sky-Smoke, tipping her head slightly. "Unsettling is a good word." Her voice certainly /sounds/ ever so slightly unsettled -- yet fascinated, too. "Mirrors reflect many things -- not all of them of our world. And this is a time, I think, to remember the world /is/ larger than we often see -- and to remember the things we share it with." And then she tips her head towards Twilight, adding, "And if they watch us in turn, maybe they're remembering something too."

Music begins to fill the room, obviously Lycene in nature yet with strange added notes that lend the usually sultry sounds a darker feel. Those Lycenes that recognize the tune know that this commences the beginning of the traditional Eclipse of Mirrors dance. Yet, unlike the typical Southern dances in which the partners aren't often encouraged to remove hands from one another, these dances are conducted without so much as a touch or a brush of fingertips. The steps are careful and calculated, forming patterns across the dance floor that are terribly difficult to learn even for those unfamiliar with them.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Alaric has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth gives a nod toward the Infernal as she steps away with the Dragon. Pretty convenient pairing when one thinks about it. Looking around the rest of the party, the giant hidden under the Shark's visage slowly walks the length of the ballroom. Passing by each mirror and staring into them in kind. Nowhere he's going really, just a bottle of wine in hand and letting his awareness drift toward all the strangeness of the evening.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 20, rolling 10 lower.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes moves toward the dance floor, standing at the outskirts with obvious interest. She tracks the first dancers and scans perhaps for other potential vict- dance partners to drag onto the floor, and if watching her didn't give someone that impression when she says, "I wonder what it will take to get a dashing masked mystery to dance with me. I'm not terribly picky." She takes a long drink from her glass before leaving it on the tray for a passing server to deal with. She tosses back her blonde hair, which, for now, is still done up in a lovely top braid.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite approaches the throne unhurriedly, the feral gold the only colour to be found upon the Mirrormask of Duality, every step bringing new life to the eternal battle of the mirrored iridescite and stygian of his mask. "My congratulations, Archduchess, Consort, for the event... and all the recent events that came before it." he says to the individual wearing a diamond-studded stygian mask and the one wearing a Cerberus mask, his voice a deep bass, easily cutting through the general noise of the gathering.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death bows at the waist respectfully as Alaric is called to speak privately with Tehom. With her escort whisked away for the time being, she turns back to the party, wandering in to the crowd. The reflections on the wall showing back the figures on the dance floor and so much more seem to catch her attention. The Crimson Death makes her way over to the side of the room. But, one of the masks seems to catch her eye. The Prodigal.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask glances back over toward the black rose with a raised finger. "I have-- so much-- capacity for darkness." He turns his attention to the handful of people actually dancing those complex, complex steps and attempts a few, to trip rather easily over his own feet instead. This marks a certain point of defeat. He grabs a bottle to follow the black rose. And so shortly in, too.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree looks at Trust. "It is. Beautiful, isn't it? Like a reminder that what appears pristine can be made bloody." She offers and sips her wine as she looks to the man speaking with her calmly. The start of the dancing draws a brief, curious look.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask says, "Yes, a drink would be nice." She smiles, watching the dancers. "I don't think my sister ever mastered that particular dance."

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask lifts her glass to her lips for a healthy swallow, then turns away from the mirror a little. There's a certain stiff anxiousness in her posture, like she's tempting fate by staying where she is. "Blood seems to be the operative term," she murmurs in reponse to the sooty-black dog-masked person, then her tone is just a trifle wry when she replies to the Starry Mirrormask. "That's unsettling as well. How much more there is." To Twilight, "It does seem a little pointless to wear a mask if you're being observed from every angle. But all the cool kids were doing it."

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face watches the proceedings from atop the throne, those icy blue eyes the only points of color to be found on the Archduchess. She takes in a breath as she hears the music begin, a faint smile playing across her lips when she glances to the masked man on the adjacent throne. As the golden-eyed man in a mask approached, she inclines her head to him, her smile still in place as she murmurs, "Thank you. Please, enjoy yourself. In the Lyceum, they say anything can happen during the Eclipse of Mirrors. Anything."

Someone wearing Stygian Mask of the Prodigal slips in, making his way confidently to the masked representation of Tehom and giving the dark god a low and humble bow with a flourish. "My lord, it has been some time." He then straightens and prowls over to the Immortality Couch.

Someone wearing Stygian Mask of the Prodigal has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask slips in, a little late, and clad in shadowy silk. She glances about the ball room with a swish of her dark curls, and dips in a curtsy to the throne before moving to the middle of the floor.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets smiles, "We could try." he smirks and walks over to get something to drink for both of them and handing her a glass, "Would you like to try?" he watches the dance floor.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite turns his head, which then turns all three heads, toward Mirrormask. Cerberus' greets him with a low voice after a long look, thankful words given, as he speaks, "Thank you," he echoes of his wife. "Indeed, anything can and will happen," he insists. Speaking of which, his eyes turn up, as he walks around the Mirrormask, "How long do you guess?" he asks from one side, "Ten minutes? Before the Bloodmoon is full?" Eyes then, to the Grand Duchess.

With glass in hand, the Raven makes his way toward the three-faced cerberus when a finger is pointed in his direction, attention taken away from the ceiling for the time being. The glass of wine is lifted toward the cerberus as he inquires, "And what sort of task might I perform?"

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' looks aside at Blue with hazel eyes behind the shapes of the eyes of his mask as he reaches for a wineglass himself. "Anything can be made bloody, my lady," comes the response in a graceful, mellifluous voice -- and those lips spread into a faint smile. "Or pristine." Then a long-suffered, theatrical sigh escapes him, "Even Trust can be defiled and twisted by a wicked mind, alas." He takes a sip from his wineglass.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite inclines his head. "I will keep a wary eye out. The Eclipse can certainly bring old ghosts to the fore." he agrees. "Not long, I would venture. And then... Why, Tehom already walks among us. But I suspect things will become rather interesting afterwards."

Alaric has left the Decadent Couch.

10 King's Own Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Zelda, the royal messenger have been dismissed.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask glances upward toward the dome and with glass in hand, sips. She looks over the rim as she replies. "mmm, perhaps just to watch for now. So much going on is holding my attention." A glance toward Tehom is given and then moves back toward some of the others present.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask laughs in answer to Sky-Smoke, her tone almost rueful. "I'm not generally one for masks," she admits to her companion. "But I am one for curiosity... and sometimes, being unsettled is good. It keeps you alert, and ready for other things. So I had to attend, at least once, to know what this is like. And if one is attending the Masquerade of Mirrors, it seems only appropriate to do everything necessary to give proper respect to the Thirteenth who it honors." She turns to look around the room for a moment, as if trying to decide her next step should be -- if she should try to escape to one of the more private corners for a conversation.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face glances upwards at the domed ceiling overhead, gazing into the murky light streaming down into the ballroom. "Mmm. I don't think it should be much longer than that." Her eyes slide toward Tehom as Mirrormask mentions him, her eyes following his progress through the ballroom.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite replies to the Raven masked individual, a smile within his maw. "Do you know the dance we dance during the Eclipse of Mirrors? If not, I can teach it to you. I invite you to find another, one of your choosing. If the two of you are inclined, at random, the both of you should approach Tehom. Perhaps it'll be a riddle, perhaps it'll be a simple blessing, or perhaps he'll ignore you complete. Take risk, if you wish."

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Tehom speaks to the masked Alaric aside at the couch, whatever is being said strictly for the ruler of the Compact. The ruler of the Abyss moves away, the dark umbra fluttering as the armor clinks with each step. "Will you dare to look up as my sign approaches? This evening is mine, yet I'm generous with my gifts to those that have the courage to seek them out. Look in the mirrors, if you dare!" He continues moving through the crowds.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree laughs, warm and husky. "I wouldn't dream of defiling Trust. Trust is why we can look in our mirrors and wear them on our pommels and be sure in what they show us." She looks to the word on the mask, lips curving into a smile again. She looks skyward again. "I would suggest a dance, but I am not a graceful woman outside of wielding a blade."

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death glances over her shoulder as Tehom speaks again. Though her expression remains a ceramic facade, the look in her eyes suggests a smirk. "When I look at this reflection, this presently false reflection of mine. I wonder... do the eyes on the other side see Death? Or do they see beneath the facade?"

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth spares a glance at the figure of Tehom as he speaks. Something powerful enough in that voice to keep hold of his attention. The Shark all dressed in frayed leathers and other fierce garb is certainly up for the challenge, after all he's been perusing these mirrors awhile now. "Sure. I'll give it a go." He replies in earnest, sitting himself down in front of one of the many mirrors and just... looking in. The bottle of wine hoisted up to drink as he does, and hopefully his reflection mirroring for the taste of good drink.

Someone wearing wooden happiness mask makes his way on into the ballroom, looking around. He is so delightfully happy at the moment. But that may just be the mask. He takes a glass of whatever he can get and makes his way around the room. He seems to notice someone in the dark corner, his eyes looking fown at those tights. "Good day, my Lady."

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets nods his head, "I agree." his eyes seem to fall back to watch Tehom when he speaks. His eyes then look to the mirrors and he starts to watch them, his head tilting to the side curios he indeed does dare to look.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask hears the statement made by Tehom and turns till she can see one of the mirrors fully, gazing into it almost cautiously at first then more fully.

"Far be it for me to disrespect one of the Gods," Sky-Smoke murmurs over the rim of her wineglass. Her dark gaze tracks Tehom cautiously as he walks through the room.

The mirrors continue to behave very strangely. Some who stop to peer into them might sense an oddly familiar face staring back at them from the corner of their eyes, yet, when they look in that direction, no one appears to be there. Some who stop to touch up their hair or admire their mask in the reflection might then reach again for their wine to discover it gone... or missing altogether.

The crimson light soon seems to drink colours from the surface of everything else within the room, sapping out blues and greens and leaving just inky, dusty darkness where red doesn't reign supreme. For those scared of the dark, of being alone, it might even feel claustrophoic. The traditional dance becomes harder, the ability to not touch hindered by the fact that the murky atmosphere can at times - in darker areas of the room - even prevent keeping one's hands away from their partners. Either that, or the wine and desire is setting in. A few even look for the lighter areas, even as servants go around snuffing them, leaving only tainted moonlight.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask inclines his head to the three-faced cerberus and says, "Perhaps you should teach it to me," with the flicker of a smile beneath the beak of the mask, "To be certain that I haven't forgotten." Then he listens and inclines his head, "It is a night for taking risks, is it not?" He glances out toward the crowd and says, "I'm certain that I mightfind another willing to take that risk and approach Tehom."

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars laughs, gently, and she raises her glass of blood-dark wine to happiness. "Arriving simply. Without airs. Without anyone to impress. Enjoy yourself, Happiness."

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask smiles as the room darkenes, although it might be difficult to see. She looks to the mirrors, and, briefly, glances to a small mirror she herself carries, attached to a sash about her waist. "My natural habitat," she says to the darkness.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask turns her attention from the mirror towards Tehom, watching the god with a thoughtful mein, as if considering whether to approach him. Perhaps he's an easier sight to focus on than the somewhat unsettling mirrors, and the growing appearance of tainted moonlight. "One should always give all the gods their due respect," she agrees to Sky-Smoke. "Even if their path isn't your own."

Some bloke in simple cotton shirt and pants arrives with a bucket over his head that has the rope handle dangling down in the top of his chest like a necklace. He spends a moment by the door with his eyes moving over the crowd and the dark atmosphere before giving his shoulders a shrug and slipping in along one of the walls.

Tehom moves through the crowd and some who are dancing. Perhaps the god has heard her, as he says to Crimson Death, "Opportunity." is the single word given to her as he walks past, gesturing to her to take a challenge to approach him.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth didn't look particularly uneasy when he stared into his own reflection. Indeed, it seemed he was almost confrontational of the person that was staring back at him. As it if he were to stare at a rival. Nonetheless, when he reaches for his wine bottle... He finds naught but empty air. In a huff, he pats down the whole area around him in a quick and frantic pace. "Did you take my wine?" He asks of the man in the mirror. "DID YOU?" His voice raises only briefly, but then it's faded away in a pinch. The self-awareness of the ridiculousness of what he just did palpable enough to still him completely.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite steps aside from his wife and instead invites Raven to a squarer, clearer space. "The Bloodmoon is upon us. There is no risk anymore, you either do or you don't. The mood either gets you, or it doesn't." Extending his hands up, out, his fingers spread flat as he moves in the single coloured light. "These steps," he whispers, "then those. Do not touch your hands, just as you would not put your hand to flame," he speaks. "If you touch," he warns, "then your will has broken. You test it, the entire night. If it breaks, have fun," he says then, loudly laughing, a rich sound - a rare sound. "Got it, my friend?"

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death feels the gaze of Tehom on her before she ever hears his voice. As the turns to face him, she dips again at the waist respectfully in his presence. "An open door worth stepping through, your Godliness."

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth has joined the line.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales frowns as the darkness closes in. When the Infernal Shadow grasps his shoulder as she stumbles, he gently catches her up and guides her...off the floor. "I think we are getting to the portion of the evening where dancing is inadvisable." He instead moves her towards the shark, and offers the shark a less toothy smile. "Talking to reflections, now? That's not advised."

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree has joined the line.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask has joined the line.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust''s eyes briefly get distracted by Tehom's words -- he disorientedly peeks at the sky and then at the mirrors, again, over the rim of his wineglass which now completes the half of his mask that isn't covered. In fact, his attention is so stolen by the mirror that he delays his answer to Blue. He turns to look back at Blue when he realizes she is, indeed, waiting for an answer. "Oh, apologies," he quickly says, though with an apologetic smile -- albeit one that is evidently distracted by what ever he saw in the mirror. "The darkness of the festivities, the mirrors, the sky -- it does make it hard for one to not appreciate the most enjoyable of companies." He sets the wineglass on the table. "My Lady is good with the blade. I'm good at anything but dancing. So perhaps we can take advantage of anonimity and do dance -- or we could step up to the challenge of the Thirtheenth, if my lady is feeling bold." There's what appears to be a daring curve at the edge of Trust's lips at that last suggestion.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask nods behind the mask. "I think indeed, that it is. Lest I hurt myself." She walks with her arm in his toward the Shark and when they get there, she only sighs softly. "I echo the Legate. Come, we will get you some more wine and I'll see to finding some tea." She takes her arm from the Dragon's. "Thank you, for a lovely dance. But I will turn you loose now, to bare your teeth at others."

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask inclines his head to the three faced cerberus, stepping into that square, clear space, and takes the lesson offered, an observant pupil who takes the steps as they are marked, and then the others, and once the lesson is over, drops a bow. "My thanks," he says, "for the lesson, and the reminder." There is a flash of a smile and then he says, "I believe that I have it now, and shall go seek that other, so that I might complete your task." And with that, the Raven raises his glass and drifts once more into the crowd.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes tracks the figure in the bat mask in the room, should they look in her direction she would give a little finger wave from the dark corner she is otherwise standing in watching the revelry.

"He took my wine." The Shark complained aloud just as well, pushing himself off the ground by his palm. "He didn't have t-" There's a moment when his voice cuts off and the space within the mask is quiet again. A deep, hoarse breath let out. "My eyes hurt." He nods toward the flaming, shadowy mask again. "That's a good idea."

When the lights are finally killed by diligent servants, only red rules. There's a scream, a tortured high pitched one... then it erupts into annoyed, deeper laughter, both from the same owner. This is followed by a loud shout, "God damn it, it's not funny, don't do that. I swear to Tehom I will..." and then whatever voice says it remembers he's -in the room with Tehom-, so quickly shuts himself up. The nameless, faceless victim of whatever cruel trick was played is soon lost. The thrum of music, the sounds of hushed murmurs takes over.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree looks from her study of herself in the mirrors under the red light. Red seems to suit her. "My Lord, it would be only pious of us to greet the Thirteenth on His day." She relies mildly. "I have always taken faith seriously. What about you? How closely do you try to walk with the Gods?" She asks in reply, tilting her head to listen, likely for trouble at the scream and relaxing.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' has joined the line.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales bows to the Infernal Shadow. "It was, ever and always, my pleasure." He straightens and studies the Shark thoughtfully as the darkness descends. "Careful, now. Some things cannot be bitten into submission. Enjoy the blood moon, to both of you," he says, with a low chuckle, before excusing himself to wander among the people, and the mirrors. He does stop to study his own reflection, crimson and black, in the gloom a couple of times.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face idly watches Cerberus instruct Raven in the dance with a dispassionate gaze. As the ballroom begins to sink into red gloom, Eleyna remains where she is, observing with a more serious expression than she is accustomed to wearing. Gloved hands fold in her lap and occasional smiles curve the lips of the masked Grand Duchess, particular when the man in the Shark mask yells at his own reflection.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars nods the once, "Perhaps so, Swan-Dove." Twilight murmurs, drifting away to seek Happiness.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite reaches for a glass of his own and raises it back, watching Raven go, before he then winds his way through the room towards the archduchess. Looking for Mirrormask, he calls through the murky darkness, "The pull of an evening like this has always been an exciting time. I've never been so involved with organising it before. It still doesn't kill the magic of it," he admits, to both.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets has joined the line.

Someone wearing wooden happiness mask smiles when the woman in the silk mask of twilight blue silk responds to him. "You have no one to prove yourself to, either," he responds, simply. "You deserve all you have any more. And it brights this smile to my face to know you."

If one is to arrive late, it best be fashionably - such is the case for this particular guest as she finds her way to the Ballroom. When she does, it appears the lights within the space are dimmed, bringing her to pause near the entryway. Her hands momentarily settle upon her hips while she searches the crowd for any familiar sort of...mask. Upon finding none she might identify, the red-haired woman meanders off, circling around to find a place to loiter for a time.

Someone wearing a fiery-hued silk half mask embellished with jewel beading has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' tries to search for wherever Tehom is -- but wherever he is, all he can see is mask and Red. Masks and Red. "It'd be uncharacteristic of me to define my own affinity to the gods, my lady," he replies to Blue. "Though -- I wouldn't say this is a festivity I frequent often. A novelty for me, I'd daresay." His wineglass tips Blue's way as he presses it to his lip. "You're from the Lyceum," he assumes before he sips.

Buckethead snags a glass of something from a passing servant with a try and by the way he doesn't even look to see what it is makes it evident he probably doesn't care.. but then he pauses and brings the glass up to be level with the eye holes of the bucket and mutters something that can be heard as a muffled curse to those near him. Something about next time and a straw before the glass is set back down on a different servants tray.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask takes the Sharks am in hers and steers them toward the alcohol and refreshments. "Then let us get you more wine and your reflection can enjoy his ill gotten gains. perhaps you can inquire of Tehom why your reflection stole your wine instead of getting his own."

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask inclines her head in agreement to Starry Mirrormask, the brushes the hand not holding a wineglass over the shimmer of her skirts, the dark gray shimmering a dark crimson in the now-only-red lighting. As the line forms up to approach Tehom she notes softly, maybe only to herself, "Perhaps next year."

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite watches with a cold gilded gaze as others react to the encroaching darkness, and the sights created by the mirrors. "No, the magic certainly is still there... more present than ever, perhaps." Perhaps the man smirks beneath the mask, but it's difficult to tell. One must instead rely upon the slight hints of dry amusement in his words. "It is certainly the first time I participate to one while in such company... I wonder if we will see our elusive friend, the one who keeps such a poor order of his estate." he remarks casually to Cerberus and the Grand Duchess. "It's certainly the time for it."

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars links arms with her newly discovered happiness, offering her companion a very slow smile that curves like a crescent moon across her face. The eyes behind the mask are bright, those pupils dilated. "Indeed. The most one ever needs to prove one's self to it their own self --" With a gesture toward the multiple mirrors surrounding them, and then, her focus drifts back. "Does it ever overwhelm you? The decadence?"

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face glances at the Mirrormask and offers a husky murmur from the shadows that seem to cling to the throne, offering only brief glimpses of aeterna clad hands moves in the darkness, "I'm surprised he's not make himself known already. He so does love a party."

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing wooden happiness mask looks around the room, taking it in with a thoughtful look. "I don't know," he says finally. "It's so much it just overloads you. It's so decadent that I don't have much opportunity to really take it in. It just -- is." He looks back to his twilight blue companion, his arm wrapped close in hers. "Does that make sense?"

Tehom speaks with Crimson in private, whatever challenge and words said for her and her alone. A dark laugh is given as the red light from the moon fills the night sky, "Remember, the harder you seek to lock away those passions, the stronger they become. Likewise, giving in to them always will soon have you become what they are. Will you let your reflection take over? Or will you use the gifts that I can give? Come...." as he gestures for another mortal who is brave to come to him.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite lingers around the thrones now, having abdicated his to the glass of wine, he stands behind the Grand Duchess. With his hands around her shoulders, stroking over the skin at her throat, he leans over to speak quietly while watching those within the beat of red. With his hand around the clasp of her neck, his head eventually turns, tilting. Shadows are deeper, stronger, blocking out his complete moment but when he lifts his head and stands straighter richly rumbles, "That is cheating," he accuses, voice thick. Clearing it, his attention swings toward Mirrormask, words given, "If we do, we are prepared. The elusive man needs to choose better times, however. My willpower won't hold tonight and I'm prone to brash actions around him. I'd much prefer to be so with my wife."

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death has left the Decadent Couch.

It is now Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth's turn to speak.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree nods, a wide smile on her face. "I am, though recently I've made my home with the Oathlanders. They seem to share my strength of devotion-if a bit outdated on their thoughts of Tehom." She tells Trust and glances about for her wine before eyeing the mirrors. "Clever." She murmurs to the mirror softly.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets takes a long sip of his drink looking to the song bird leaning in to whisper something to her and placing a soft kiss on her cheek he seems a bit nervous for some reason.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales takes up another glass of wine, sipping it lightly as his shadowed wanderings bring him to one of the empty couches. He settles down to lounge on the couch, his head tilting back to watch the blood moon through the domed glass, its red light falling on them all.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales has joined the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death steps away from the couch with Tehom with a respectful nod. Her expression remains hidden behind the white ceramic with the red jeweled tears. Blending back in to the crowd, her gaze looks a little hungry. In search of something perhaps? Who will catch her eye is yet to be seen.

In the red light, the Raven's feathers take on a violet cast where blue meets red, red shimmering on the black feathers. His glass of wine is carefully maneuvered beneath the beak so as not to catch upon it as he takes a swallow from the glass. He watches those who pair up and gather to talk, seeking perhaps whehter the red light will illuminate that which he seeks. For a time, he chooses simply to lean against one of the couches and watch.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars nods, curling her fingers against Happiness' arm, "I do. It makes sense and I would rather it make no sense at all. Nonsense, yes. Nothing but nonsense." Her voice dropped soft, a moth-wing brush toward Happiness' ear. "It's all around you now. And after. And ever after that. What do you see when you catch yourself in the mirrors? Do you see you? As you were or as you want to be?"

Beneath her mask, Bat's ruby-red lips twitch, as if she is trying, with an effort, to repress laughter at something only she can hear. "Indeed," she murmurs to the air, in general statement. "Even during the Blood Moon, it is important to be respectful. On both sides."

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth motions to another bottle of wine. "You can drink some of this stuff, right? It's not..." He makes a so-so gesture with his hand back toward the Infernal mask. But soon enough, the Thirteenth himself seems to be opening his ear to another. "Here, hold down the fort love. I'm gonna go do this before I miss the chance." He pats her on the shoulder and moves to join the visage of the God himself at the couch. It's done without much fanfare or many words, just a greeting of a nod and an exhale of breath. "... Hm."

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask's costume leached of some colors, others muted, looks more like that of a near ebon feathered nightbird than a songbird. Shadowy reflections in the mirror let her see the lion drawing closer. A slow smile comes to her lips and she turns away from the mirror to listen to what is said to her.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' has this slim smile for Blue as she confirms his supposition. "The Oathlands are fascinating lands, my lady. I am sure you will find what ever goals you seek in your new home and wish you luck. Women of faith and strength often find success there." Trust bows his head, lifting his wineglass, before he finishes whatever remnants of it are within.

Someone wearing Stygian Mask of the Prodigal seems to toss up his arms at Bat Mask's words and pinch the bridge of his nose as if he had a sudden headache.

"Maybe so," Starry offers to Sky-Smoke, before she turns to look at the rest of the room. Perhaps seeking a dance partner, or a quieter corner -- or merely some distraction other than staring at the ever-so-slightly unnerving reflections that surround them on every side.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death approaches Raven and inclines her head. "I hear furniture like this is better sat on than leaned against. Would you care to try it out with me?"

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask takes the bottle of wine and if they could be seen from under the mask, here would be a roll of the eyes. But she holds hat freshly opened bottle gracefully, adjusting her dress a little in the but area as if this is not a familiar amount of skin being shown and waits to the side to regard everyone while the shark gets it's face time with Tehom.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite chuckles after Cerberus' comment. "Perhaps he knows your mood." Though from his tone, the man doubts it. He inclines his head to the Grand Duchess. "The Bloodmoon lasts for some time. Perhaps he's afraid of what he might find in the mirrors. He so does hate them." he remarks. And then his eyes catch upon the fiery-hued mask. "Ah, if you'll excuse me, I've someone to meet." And with that, he takes his leave from his location by the throne, heading for the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a Mirrormask of swirling stygian and iridescite has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

It doesn't happen at once to everyone yet at different times during the night, spines shiver and the sensation of a long fingernail drags up along the back of individuals. A hand perching on a shoulder, a crooked finger against a chin to turn a head another direction. It's as real as any touch, felt just like one, yet it is ice cold and unseen. One might even doubt that it was een real. Surely not. There's even a laughter as it departs those afflicted. Perhaps just a trick of imaginations overwrought with the strangeness of the night.

Someone wearing a silk mask of twilight blue silk that reflects stars has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask glances toward the Prodigal and purses her lips in a manner that seems entirely too old for the Bat-mask's wearer's apparent age, almost as if, beneath her mask, she is imitating the expression of some stern relation. The fact she gasps a moment later at an unseen touch somewhat ruins it, however.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 56 higher.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite does eventually return to the throne, when Mirrormask departs, a bow of his head given. "Of course," he replies, "and I deserve a little rest while others party, I think," he drawls. With that, he leans in against the arm rest, the tri-headed cerberus mask turned toward the Grand Duchess. Quiet words, hands in the darkness move, as they linger there in intimate comfort.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Someone wearing wooden happiness mask takes the arm of the woman in the silk mask of twilight and leads her towards the exit. "I see," he says finally, thoughtfully. "I see me. I have always been me. I will always be me. That's the benefit of being me. No one expects you to be anything else." He tugs her towards the exit. "Come. Let's get a room and talk more."

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask dips his head to the Crimson Death and says, "I suppose it couldn't hurt to test if the rumors are true." He gestures with one hand toward the seat so that she might be the first to occupy it before leaning away and circling around to take a seat, himself.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Tehom says to all, "A party all around, and yet not one offers to me a drink. In that case, a challenge is given. Lyceum wines are famed for their smoothness and complexities, as well as the trust shown to the host by drinking without it being tasted. Raise your glasses to the moon that shines red, think on me and drink."

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask turns briefly from his conversation at the couch, his dog's face canted. The shiver earlier seems to have rewoken a bit of his energy and delight, what's a little light creepy? He raises his glass as asked to the moon. He drinks. You may as well show follow-through.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask shivers at some unseen touch, but does not exclaim aloud -- much less curse -- despite her surprise. Doing her best to remain untroubled, she turns to select a wine and raise it in toast to the Thirteenth. Yet whatever she reflects on seems to leave her uneasy, and she drinks perhaps to settle her own thoughts as much as do honor to the deity.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask makes his way on into the ballroom, looking, perhaps, a bit uneasy in the space. This is not quite his scene, even though he does have a mask on and otherwise blends. But the owl takes some wine that passes by and seems to assess things, as if attempting to figure out where to go. Or what to do.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree slides her fingers along her bracelet. She looks at Trust and sweeps her black hair over her shoulder, looking to her wine glass, forgetting for the moment it's vanished. "Yes...I've always felt faith was the least I could give in return for the life I've lived. The God calls for a toast and I've lost my wine, forgive me a moment? I should find a new glass."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out gives a grunt when Tehom calls for everyone to have a drink and mutters a muffled "Tried that.." out before moving above in search of food. Surely he could stuff some fancy finger food up under the bucket rim... he makes it a few steps before he turns abruptly and swats at his side like trying to scrap off a bug, head turning aboufh to have the bucket rotate left and right. the eye holes come unaligned with the eyes beneath and he has to reach up to turn it a degree degrees clockwise so he can see again.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask lifts her wine, looks toward the Decant Couch then back toward her goblet, the way it looks in the small amount of light and drinks.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask clears her throat, and takes up a glass of dark red wine. She turns her face to the blood moon, raises her glass in toast, and drinks.

By now the music has begun to die off, the traditional sounds giving way to the thump and beat of drums, like the throb of a heart. They're mixed in with the rich notes of chords, yet it's a steady, sedate pace that impercetibly builds, quickens, then drops. Moments of adrenalin, born and born again. Perfect moments to kiss, the desire to be violent, momentum to push toward another body and greet them on whim, queues to run from existing partners into new arms. The perfect ambience to test one's will, to enjoy its elasticity - or lack thereof.

From his languid position on the Scandal Couch, the Dragon Mask raises his glass in a silent toast to Tehom, holding it for so long, the man beneath the mask might actually be saying some sort of toast, or prayer, were someone close enough to hear it. It ends, though, and he drinks, deeply.

Someone wearing Stygian Mask of the Prodigal waves an apologetic gesture at the Bat Mask from across the room, but for what is unclear. He then raises a glass in toast towards the Thirteenth.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face does not have a glass of wine to raise when so called to do so by the Thirteenth, but she does look in Tehom's direction as he speaks, a smile playing across her lips as she murmurs something to Cerberus, almost as if she's telling a joke.

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask has drifted by degrees into a space with minimal mirror coverage. At Tehom's behest she silently raises her glass, then drinks deeply.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' tips his chin downwards towards Blue as he lifts his own wineglass to Tehom. "Pleasure," he says aside to Blue as he, as well, seems to go wander -- though he wanders towards through the crowds. Wherever his guards are? He can't find them amidst the crowds, and he's pushing past dancing bodies, talking people, before he gives up. "Hm," he murmurs once he realizes he's, in fact, alone.

3 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask chuckles at something that the Crimson Death says and then reaches back to a passing servant, taking one of the glasses of wine and then extending it to her so that they both might toast the Thirteenth. He lifts his own glass, and then drinks of it beneath the blood red lighting.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask is starting to look decidedly uncomfortable, a glance over her shoulder as if someone did indeed whisper to her, and the change in the beat of the music doesn't seem to be helping things, as body language gives away what an unseen face cannot and starts to move away from the darkened corner and seek out some place that's not so dark.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite is remarkably distracted yet he's committed, enough that even when he's in the midst of words with his wife, he looks instead over toward Tehom. Blood red liquid lifted in its off hand, he closes his eyes and speaks deep words, "Tehom teaches we test ourselves," he says, "I bet I could try your patience tonight."

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death dips her head in a grateful nod to Raven as he secures a glass of wine for her. Following suit, she raises it to towards the moon before taking a sip.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask does a take. And a double take. And a triple take. The man in the owl mask takes his wine and crosses across the room towards the immortality couch, where the man in the stygian mask of the prodigal. He looks to the two mirrormasks sitting with him and smiles behind his own owlish features. "It seems you are abandoned no longer," he remarks. "With such company."

The distinct scent of Dustpoppy and Hazeweed is on the air from offenders throughout, as well as the now less perceptible scents of a large mass gathering, under deepened crimson lighting. The carcophany of sounds is at times enough to make far more than the Valardin blush, especially with words on the air. The pulse of drums is above everything, felt as much as heard.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree acquires a new glass of wine and toasts the blood moon. This goblet she cradles to her chest. She eyes her reflection again, and the reflection of the room as a whole with some interest. She seems determined to mind her hands, as much as her eyes wander.

In the darkness, as the air fills with that throbbing beat, there are perhaps some that choose to take advantage of the mood and try to steal off to some dark corner or another. Yet, in more than a few of those cases, a thoroughly imperious, disembodied voice can be heard on a occasion muttering, "You're lucky he's wearing a mask." or "Oh, darling. You can do better than -that-." Is the sound coming from the mirrors? From the mind? The light plays tricks, the mirrors keep their secrets. Especially the judgy ones.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask wears an air of discomfort at the shift in music, a tension that settles into her shoulders all too clearly. And yet it's mixed with a sort of wistful yearning as she glances around the room. A loneliness that she wants to somehow quell. Whoever she'd like to find, however -- it's clear that she knows they aren't here. And so she finds herself looking at other, unfamiliar, masked figures in a searching manner, seeking company beyond wine and reflection. Perhaps the fierce red dragon? The raven? Or one dressed in so daring an guise as to imitate the legendary Prodigal?

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask turns his long dog's face toward the white feathered owl. The red glow of the moon through the glass gives the opaque stygian almost, almost the hint of blood. He laughs, and perhaps it's not quite as dire as all that, if he seems to be struggling to stay seated. One hand is on his goblet, the other clutches the couch cushion beneath him. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. Always liked birds."

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' is, evidently, at a point and time when he's considering leaving -- but how can he with no guards? His lips press into a tight line as he looks both ways again. It's useless. His glass is set aside -- and a kissing couple then get in his way, forcing him to take a step back.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales lifts his glass in silent greetings, and perhaps invitation, when the Starry Mirrormask turns in his direction. At the very least the couch he is claimed is bare of either serious drugs or incipient orgy. FOR NOW.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask has joined the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask comes to a stand beside the mask with the word Trust, speaking in whisper to the man devoid of his guards.

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask slips on through the door, wooden face turning this way and that as the small, drab brown figure starts to move along the perimeter of the room, seeming to stay out of the way, best they can.

"I LOVE birds," the lady in the Black Rose Mirror Mask enthuses after Stygian Soot. "There's nothing more free than a bird, save the God of Freedom, of course."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out moves along by the wall and one of the shadowy areas by a mirror. He turns, peering over his shoulder at something. "I'm wearing a damn bucket. Save it for the pretentious" he mutters as he keeps moving.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite finishes speaking to the Grand Duchess before he raises his crimson filled glass, a inky black ichor in this light, leaning forward and calling over the bannisters with a rallying below. "Praise be to the Thirteenth, Tehom, He Who Waits Behind the Mirror, the Dark Reflection."

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite shouts from nearby, "Praise be to the Thirteenth, Tehom, He Who Waits Behind the Mirror, the Dark Reflection."

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask links hands with Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets, murmuring to him from time to time in a low voice as she keeps an eye on the line. One finger of the hand holding a glass of wine taps against the stem, rhythm matching that of the drums.

Someone wearing sky-smoke mask drifts past Bucket Head on her way out the door. "Best mask here, hands down." She dips an awkward little curtsy and exits.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask turns about in the stained light, as if chasing after something she sees only out of the corner of her eye, the set of her shoulders tense. A faint shiver runs through her figure.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask smiles when he is welcomed by the two mirrormasks when they speak of birds. "An owl is a fine bird, but I rather like the raven," he says simply. And then he takes a sip of his wine. "If you don't mind another joining you, that is. My mask does not reflect, but I hope to be good company regardless."

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask slips in silently, bone white gown and mask tinted a slight red in the eerie light. She, for it's a woman in curve hugging silk, pauses to catch her bearings on the scene.

Tehom speaks to the man in the shark mask, there's a dark laugh given after whatever is said privately to him. But hearing the toast, the god stands up. "It has been some years since the last blood moon, yet I look on all that you mortals have done and accomplished since now. Think on those who have paid ultimately with their lives so that you might have the opportunity to change and be saved. Think on those feelings within you of pain, suffering, hurt, anger, jealousy....use these emotions to drive you to be better than what you currently are. Use my gifts so that when I come next bloodmoon, we remember your actions rather than others."

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 37 higher.

It is now Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree's turn to speak.

In the center of the ballroom, there is a sudden spark and flash of light, like the birth of new stars, like the sudden bang of creation. They flicker in and flicker out again, many and then none, alive and then dying.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth arose from the couch and steadily walked away from the figure of Tehom, one hand dipped into his jacket while the other raised up toward the Infernal Mask again. "I missed the toast, gimme here." He say quietly, his posture notably more upright. The sparkling in the center does give him pause. But right now, his mind is on that wine.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask briefly turns his attention from the conversation he was having with Crimson Death to smile a little bit amusedly in the White Feathered Owl's direction. But the burst of light in the center of the room distracts him.

Gathering a small plate, the raven haired woman in the Blue and Silver mask approaches Tehom. The burst in the center of the ballroom draws her eye briefly but she curtsies to him. "No one's offered you food yet-if you've an appetite." She murmurs and joins him.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing stygian black rose mirrormask assures White Feathered Owl Mask, "I don't refuse anyone. The choice remains yours, always."

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face shields her eyes from the sudden flash of brightness in the shadows, wincing as her eyes struggle to adjust to the change. Gloved fingers grip the armrests of the throne as she takes a deep breath, muttering to herself with a distinctive edge of amusement in her smoky tone, "Anything can happen."

The drums are too loud for a moment, vibrating and rattling precarious glasses, the worst of which may fall to fates unfair and their casual destruction. The bellow cuts through them but is soon swallowed by the din. Where lights don't flash, there is only red, save the center of the ballroom.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death turns her gaze towards the Owl as well for a moment. Her eyes seem to smile, but nothing else on her red and white mask seems to move. When the lights flicker in and out she glances to Raven. "Interesting trick of the light?" Though her attention draws to the center of the ballroom once more.

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask hands over the bottle of wine that she kept close for the shark, tilting her head and in turn the mask at the shark. " Was it a good conversation? Do you feel enlightened?" There's a protective hand over her middle. "I am going to take my cousin and escort him home. Pellinor is outside, and I am going to take some of your guards. Do you wish to come or will you stay and enjoy the revelry? I admit, it is perhaps too much for me, all of this."

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets nods to the song bird when she speaks to him, his hand gently squeez the one he is holding while he sips his wine. His eyes watching the mirror, watching him self standing there. He breath deeplu again when the lights flash he looks over to where they were tilting his head.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite echoes in agreement with the woman of regal bearing beside him, "Anything." As he eases back, he looks as far as his eyes will let him, he speaks casually, "We can be our best and worst selves."

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask seems especially caught by the central light, mothish in the red.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes fetches a drink for herself then wanders back to a shadowy corner and nurses it quietly.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask's eyes, just glimpsed through the mask, widen at the light, and she stares.

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask continues to survey the room from the corner they've placed themselves in. The frown - perpetually in place - remains in place. Then, spotting a mask with feathers - not the owl, but the off white silk and feathers, the drab brown mass starts that way.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask slowly, purposefully, shifts her hand to her belt. A belt which clearly doesn't match her ensemble but was worn nonetheless. She shifts her attention to the Tehom figure and then back to the sparks of galaxy splendor. "The fuck," she swears softly, a husky rasp of a familiar word.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face reaches out with fingers encased in brilliantly white aeterna and rests them atop the stygian gauntlet that encases Cerberus' arm, murmuring, "We already are, my love."

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth gave a shrug. "I'll admit, I'm interested enough to stick around for a bit. It's a night for weird things to happen all around and you don't see that often." He gestures around the room, where the red fills it. But when she's putting a hand over her center, he seems to take the hint. "It was a good talk. He's alright with me too."

Mydas has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask stares at the light in the center of the ballroom, even as she continues her quiet discussion with Dragons.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' looks at the Infernal Shadow and then at the Shark. Trust gives a slight bow, and then his eyes flit over to where Tehom speaks with a line of people. He gets pushed by a passerby again, which bids him to press his lips tighter, reaffirm his upright posture. For now, the night has swallowed Trust's tongue -- except for a "Your Grace" of greeting to the Shark.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite is heard laughing, a wicked amusement, bowing all three heads at once. Twisting his fingers into the hand of his partner's, his colour-leeched eyes lost in the deep shadows his mask provides with little light to banish them. Their direction, however, must assuredly be upon her. "Tonight," he says unprecedented. "It will be tonight we make more of a future," he answers to her unspoken question, with more meaning than is spoken by the words. "A celebration, to all we've achieved. A promise for the future, our future, House Velenosa's future. The Lyceum under us."

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask nods. "Then stay, enjoy yourself. I will be waiting at home to finish off the nights celebrations after we have found his guards and I have him safe at home or safe within a guest room." HAH. That will be interesting. "Give my farewell to our hosts." Alarissa takes her mask off, going up on her toes to press a kiss to the Shark's cheek and when back on the floor with her feet fully, looks to the other masked man. "Come. We'll make our way out. We will be protected well and fine enough." She assures him, careflly giding him toward the exit

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite says, "After all, in the rarest of moments there is most power, hm?"

Someone wearing an Infernal Shadow Mask drops an Infernal Shadow Mask.

Alarissa picks up an Infernal Shadow Mask.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out gives a grunt towards the compliment and curtesy thrown his way, a tip of the bucket. And then his gaze is turned to the center of the room too, for a moment his attention caught

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth nods, turning those dark eyes toward the next pristine mask as well. "Hey... You." He murmurs out in response with a nod toward Alarissa as well. "I'll be sure to give 'em the regards and what not. In the meantime, I'm gonna not yell at my reflection and drink some more wine. I'll see ya' back at the house."

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales has joined the line.

Tehom speaks with Blue, perhaps offering a bargain on this hallowed eve. A claw raises towards the waning bloodmoon before he says "I remember when I rewarded the Archduchess for answering my riddle, and through that gift I see not just the Lyceum children giving me homage tonight but the entire Compact. Each of you have the ability to change the world in ways you cannot fathom, within all of you are the tools and gifts if you use them. Choice....however frustrating it may be, ultimately is where each of you decide the fate of all. If you all would be stop walking past the souls you pass by on the roads in your busy lives and see them for how I see you behind the Mirror....as opportunities. Use the opportunities to unify and you will be living lives that are legendary. Use the opportunities for your selfish desires? And it may come a time where it is YOU who stares at a reflection from a mirror instead of you living your life. Come, it is time for me to judge who I will give my blessing to. Who will become my favored tonight."

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask edges her way towards a quiet bench and sits, hands smoothing her gown uneasily about her. Her gaze stays fixed on the unearthly light, looking to be analyzing and studying it.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask rises from the couch at which h sat with the Crimson Death and offers her a bow before making his way among the guests, perhaps still seeking something, someone.

Someone wearing a diamond-studded stygian filigree mask that covers the top half of the face's laugh echoes Cerberus' as she grips his hand in turn, murmuring, "Just as we've planned. Not everything worked out like we thought it would, but it still feels like a victory. Enough of one to celebrate. Tonight." She leans toward the masked man, her eyes still on the crowd.

Someone wearing an intricate, pristine mask with the word 'Trust' repeats the "Your Grace" in farewell to the shark, this time with a bow. He goes to reach for his mask and remove it -- Trust being unveiled as the First Observer of the Crown -- and a slim smile curves his lips towards the Shark and then Alarissa. "Enjoy the festivities." It seems removing his mask makes him more talkative as he walks out with Alarissa, "I am quite confident my guards will at least return quite content after they enjoy the night," there is a humored, curvy hook at the edge of his mouth at that. "A good morale boost. For me, it was an exploratory experience. I had never attended one of these feasts. I'm sure I'll have a couple of stories to tell back at the Bastion."

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a silver shark mask with steel teeth, Calarian leave, following Alarissa.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death rises from the couch and her conversation with Raven, bidding him farewell for now as she moves through out the room again. This time, with wine in hand.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask has left the The Misconduct Couch.

The cyclical increase and decrease in tempo from the drums eventually begins to get longer and longer between each, threatening to leave the room silent for a length of time, though not quite yet. From the thrones a single bright light is lit, dampened by the atmosphere nonetheless, and a servant makes his way toward Tehom. The pace is steady, unhurried, yet it's notable by guests. The man clearly has a duty to fulfill, in due course. For now, he's on the staircase.

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask circles the room for a time, wandering, but finding no one unoccupied who doesn't appear to already be preparing to make his way toward Tehom, he eventully joins the line himself, unaccompanied.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask tips her head, stepping so she can see the person with the Visage of Tehom and keeping as many as she can visualize amid the gathering within her peripheral vision. Her eyes are drawn to the light being lit then moves back to the Decadant couch area.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask nods absently to Grey Raven, chucking her chin upward in hello. As she waits, her gaze drifts towards that steadily shifting servant.

Conker, the Ornery Red Squirrel, Dame Barkley, a chocolate tri beagle arrive, following Someone wearing A Featureless Silver Facade.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask hesitates, but slips into the line herself, greeting the others with a dip of her batty mask.

Conker, the Ornery Red Squirrel have been dismissed.

Morrighan has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree has left the Decadent Couch.

It is now Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask's turn to speak.

Light and shadows shiver and twist in the glit framed mirrors. Faces appear and disappear, sometimes it's the face of the observer, sometimes it's another face, but only for a moment. It's a night full of strange happenings. Yet, for some, there is something very familiar about the face that sometimes appears, a haze memory contained in a quirked eyebrow, a wry set of the mouth, or a silken smile full of secrets. All uncomfortably, eerily familiar.

Someone wearing A Featureless Silver Facade has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Rejoining the crowd, the blacked haired woman in the blue and silver mask drinks her wine and looks thoughtful. She looks over the faces in the mirrors, seeming to enjoy the touch of the familiar and strange. She closes her eyes a long moment, keeping her wine curled to her chest so she doesn't lose it.

Someone wearing A Featureless Silver Facade steps into the ballroom, perhaps a little late, but they glide easily into the ballroom all the same. A featureless visage, a mask with only two small holes to reveal jade eyes as the only defining feature, silently gliding across the room, they make a path towards one of the couches, joining them with a dip of the head.

The servant makes his way across the dance floor, he looks nervous, maybe even scared. The man is, after all, approaching Tehom. In formal dress, he carries that bright lantern that wavers in the light, threatening to be snuffed. It seems to struggle the closer he gets to Tehom, a bastion of light in the dark, yearning to remain lit. When he's within calling distance, he bows deeply and clears his throat to announce, "Tehom, your faithful await to hear your final address before you leave us to a night of revelry under the Bloodmoon, would you do us the great honour of speaking to all before you depart to return to your duties?" The drums soon die, leaving room for the Thirteenth to speak. "Do you deem anyone this eve worthy of your favour? Do you deem anyone this even deserving of reaping?" The last question is asked, voice tumultuous.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask still looks slightly suspicious and on edge, tensing as if expecting something to happen. "I need a drink," she mutters, motioning for one. Wine obtained, she sips it carefully in Lycene style until she takes a much needed deeper one. She watches as the servant asks the ceremonial question with the same uneasy wary gaze.

Someone wearing A Featureless Silver Facade has joined the line.

Those upon the thrones sit side by side and here, the man offers his armoured arm to the woman, so they might stand and listen to the address. As is proper, in Lycene tradition, they are silent. Silent as the drums which have stopped, as the music which has faded.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out watches the servant moving across the room and address Tehom. The buckethead turns then slowly side to side, eyeing the crowd like he's taking a wager on who it may be.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree opens her eyes as the drums stop. She scans the faces under the masks, looking for family who might be present. She drinks her wine down and follows the Skull masked woman's gaze to the servant.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask scarcely dares to breathe. She watches, blue eyes wide behind her winged mask.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask's attention remains focus on the servant, light, the Decadant couch area as she remains silent, listening.

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask seems to have a particular person wearing a feathered mask to lean against, and he pair seem quiet content to keep to themselves in the shadowy corner. But when the room falls silent, the sad, wooden face turns to fix it's big, dark, gleaming eyes upon Tehom.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes before departing.

Tehom stands as the servant approaches, the darkness seems to fight against the light the servant carries. The King of Abyss glints more darkly and fiercely now, but perhaps its a trick of the light playing from the lantern and the reflections glint in the mirrors all around. "Many mortals have I spoken to this evening, each have been given challenges and answers that may not be comfortable but truth rarely is. It pleases me to see all you here participating in my feast, it shows that within you is strength that you're willing to use at the appropriate time. And that, mortals, is what I will use my final words here tonight."
    "Within each of you is darkness and light, sides that wan and wax based on the choices you decide that affect the world for good and evil. Seek out those who lead your Faith for guidance, give yourselves fully to your leaders, and again look to one another not as strangers but as fellow souls. As a god, your souls are priceless to me and amazed would I be if I saw all souls united to a common good and task. Waste not your gifts, fear not your passions but master them."
    "Now then, I have seen many here and tonight I have chosen to give my favor to one." He raises a clawed hand and points towards the Crimson Death. "You, I have chosen. Your task and challenge will be difficult, but I look forward to seeing what you have done with my blessings when I come next blood moon."

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets watches Tehom as the drums stop his blue eyes on the figure head tilted to the side finding himself watching and listening. He looks to the Song bird and finishes his drink then his eyes look to the person in the Crimson Death Mask.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death stands, glass of wine in hand, listening. As Tehom's claw'd hand rises and points to her, she inclines her head gracefully and with a calm professional air about her. "I accept your challenge, God in the Mirror, and will not squander your gifts."

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask listens with dark eyes, wooden face fixed on Tehom. The messages comes, and out pours a string of giggles, decidedly feminine, which contrast against the sad face of the mask. The figure in the wooden mask quickly lifts a small hand to cover their false mouth and falls silent again.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out gives a look towards the crimson death mask wearer and huhs with a shrug of his shoulders to himself.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom drops a small, burnt umber chest.

a small, burnt umber chest is now unlocked.

Someone wearing a three-faced cerberus hound mask forged of steel, stygian and iridescite gets a cloak of shadows held together with a clasp of entwined stygian and iridescite from a small, burnt umber chest.

Eleyna slips off her mask, not that it did anything to conceal her identity anyway. She brings her hands together in applause, shouting out, "To Tehom's Favored!"

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes joins in the applause, looking a little unnerved by the wooden sad face mask, but otherwise politely clapping.

Someone wearing An Elegant Mask of blue with Silver Filigree raises her glass to Crimson Death and smiles before drinking. Seeing Eleyna slide off her mask, she moves to do the same, it was making her nose itch anyway.

As the crowd is turning to the Crimson Death who has been singled out with Tehom's favor, the god himself seems to have disappeared from sight as the lantern the servant carries falters a moment.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask claps as the favored is announced, a smile given as she watches the favoring and the acceptance.

Talen follows suit by removing his mask and then watches the murmurs a prayer, though he raises his voice, gripping the bannister from the floor above as he glances to his wife and nods. "To Tehom's Favored," he echoes. "Now, for those of you who wish to stay, you may. Keep your masks on, take them off. Be your best and your worst selves, so you might find a balance, then wake up tomorrow feeling stronger and more alive than ever."

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales stands from his couch and offers applause to Tehom's chosen. "May you survive the god's favor," he calls out, before leaving the couch and beginning to move towards the doors.

Someone wearing a fierce red dragons mask with golden scales has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask watches the exchange. She gives a shrug in her strapless mermaid gown that shows she's not used to it. The woman grumbles and gives the gown's neckline a shrug upward. She folds her arms over her chest to be more comfortable. She watches, eyes shadowed under her mask, and keens the skull curiously. "Tehom's favored," she echoes. But he's gone. "The fuck," she echoed again.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing an exotic colorful songbird mask says, "Since he is gone, may as well get out of line."

Caelis rubs her nose and drains the last of her wine. She sweeps her dark hair over her shoulder sets her glass aside.

Someone wearing stygian soot dog mirrormask has been rather quiet, focused almost to the point of disappearance, but he rouses enough to clap for the god and his chosen.

Someone wearing Starry Mirrormask blinks, as she turns back to her conversational partner only to find he's... vanished. After a moment's long silence, Starry applauds the god's new Favored, and moves to find some wine and fortify herself.

Someone wearing shadowy bat mask salutes Tehom's newly favoured with her wine glass.

Someone wearing Bone Colored Half Skull Mask says, "Whelp. This party just got a thousand times less interesting. Or thousand more. Huh." More wine, and she's headed for the exit. "Oh well. My fucking fault for being late."

The deep crimson light in the room hangs, as strong as it will for hours, then lighter in the days to come. The music starts up, livelier now, less sober and dramatic but no less fine. The wine circles, the scents of contraband float atop the air. The formal traditions of the Eclipse of Mirror's and its Mirror's Masquerade are over at the very least.

Someone wearing an exquisite silken lion mask with red garnets nods his head to the bird and moves away from where the god was sitting, helooks around and looks for another drink, he needs another drink.

Talen turns to Eleyna when the weight of the god as a house guest is over, then he drops the priceless cerberus mask onto his throne before he wraps his arms around her waist and pushes her against the bannister. Hopefully not to throw her over. "Hey," he utters. "You're still my favorite." Then a quick save. "If you tell anyone I said that, I'll kill you." Treason!

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

Someone wearing a blue and grey raven mask offers his congratulations to the Crimson Death as he drifts out of the line and once more out into the crowd, seeking a refill for his glass of wine. There is a smile for Tehom's parting words as the God vanishes from the festivities, and the music turns lighter.

As Tehom leaves, some others also find their ways to the exists. Eleyna leans slightly against Talen as she observes the thinning crowd, most that linger behind being Lycenes and those of a more daring bent who are willing to engage in the more... in depth exploration of virtue and vice that are sure to occur in darkened portions of the Estate, still tinted red with the Eclipse's bloody light. As the Archduke grabs her and murmurs into her ear, Eleyna smiles indulgently and whispers in return, "I don't need to tell anyone. You're bloody obvious."

Estaban slips his mask off looking to the Bird and leans in whispering to her with a smirk on his lips and tugs her for the exit.

Lucita looks up at Estaban, turns to thank the hosts, curtsy and head out with him.

Someone wearing Mask of the Crimson Death inclines her head to those who offer their congratulations. A raise of her glass is made in the direction of Talen and Eleyna when they are unmasked. Though she doesn't seem to linger here long, slipping out of the ballroom with out another word.

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask turns away from the woman in the feathered mask, and the corner the two are in, and starts over towards Talen and Eleyna. "Talen! Eleyna!" comes voice of a small woman, from behind that wooden mask.

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes at first is all going along with the sad faced one but then abruptly stiffens up and tries to stop her by dragging her feet. This results probably in her being -dragged- across the floor.

Talen smirks openly, yet unapologetically, at Eleyna's reply. As he slides his hands around her waist, clasping together, he looks down upon the floor. Spying the lift of a glass, he unlinks and raises one of those hands to wave to Tehom's favoured. "Hang on to that," he calls down, pointing at the token. "You'll need it." Then, wordlessly, he shifts his gaze toward the one calling. "Come on up," he invites. "Your mask is working wonders," he informs, droll of voice.

Eleyna salutes the Crimson Death as she raises her glass and then disappears into the crowd on her way out. The Archduchess hears her name and turns her head in that direction, blinking as she observes the sad face masked woman. "As I haven't the ability to also call you by name, shall I simply refer to you as Lady Melancholy?"

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out eyes the crowd another moment and then turns his gaze to the host and hostess. A hand is lifted in a duelist salute to the pair, or at least would be if it held a sword, but the sentiment is obvious. He turns then and moves to make his way on out.

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask gives a soft laugh, which contrasts ever so nicely with that frown she wears. "I am not a /lady/," says the slight woman. She's got hold of the woman wearing the feathered mask's hand, and is now dragging her along, towards the grand duchess and duke. "But you may call me as you wish, your grace," she says, with another little giggle. She looks back, to the feathered face of the woman with her. "/She/ says she's created a minor scandal," she says. Then eyes shift back up to Talen and Eleyna. "Would you please, your grace, or you, your highness, grant me the favor of telling me /what/ scandal she has created tonight?" she asks. "It feels ever so appropriate, tonight, to reflect upon scandal..."

Talen says, "Sir Bucket Head! A fine outfit. Dedicated to the cause. Farewell and good night."

Someone wearing an off white silk mask, with a beak and feathers around the eyes exclaims, while trying to cover the sad face mask's mouth only succeeding in covering up a face mouth which is drawn on the mask, effectively doing nothing. "Do not listen to this lunatic, go back to your fancy waving and smiling at your guests!" She tries to tell Talen and Eleyna while still struggling to stop the wooden sad face mask from talking and doing so without a shred of dignity.

Talen checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 0 higher.

Lucita leaves, following Estaban.

Talen's eyes bore hard into the wooden masked woman and the other, with the feathers, before he purses his lips. With a breath in, he levels a finger toward the latter. "She is always causing trouble, yet I don't personally know what trouble she caused, unless I started it. What did you get up to now?" it assumes familiarity and he seems fairly confident. The one who wishes to know, however, causes him to purse his lips. "I am inclined to agree, tonight is one of scandal, if it is what you enjoy-- secretly or truthfully."

10 King's Own Guardsmen, Zelda, the royal messenger leave, following Alaric.

Eleyna looks from Sad Face to the woman in the beak and feathers, brows arching. "That's not very fair to hint at scandal and not elucidate upon it. Almost cruel really." Her brow furrows and eyes narrow as she asks in a voice that is probably pitched entirely too loud for the fact the room is much more empty than it was before, "Minor scandal? Look, as long as you didn't try to grope Tehom, I feel like nothing is really 'scandalous' tonight. So spill."

Someone wearing wooden sad face mask uses her free hand to try to bat away the feathered-one's hand. "Stop it!" she says, the tone almost childish. The wooden face turns to Talen, and then to Eleyna, and there's a huff from that mask. Then she turns her dark eyes back to the feathered masked one, and proceeds to deliver a sharp poke to the other woman's side, all while keeping hold of that other hand. "Yeah, spill! Are you /making up/ scandals to try to trick me?!" she asks, sounding scandalized by the mere idea. "Tell us what you did, my sweet dove!"

"It's a lie, someone is lying, probably her, possibly me, there is no scandal, nothing to see here. She's a lunatic." She tries to drag the wooden frowny face masked person. She then suddenly the one being focused on jumps on that, "Yes, that is it, I am boasting scandals for the prestige." The figure in the mask with the beak and feathers gives the figure with the frowny mask a little shove and hurrmphs in aggravation.

Talen leans into Eleyna and drawls, "I think they fancy each other. If we're going to be conceiving a child tonight anyway, can they do their thing in the background? I won't touch, I'll just glance over occasionally, I swear," insists the archduke consort to his archduchess. "I'm not sure she even swings that way honestly."