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The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

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Image result for Wedding dressTeresa closed her eyes, feeling the winds flash against her cheeks as her body twirled on the dance floor. Dirty blonde hair whipped across her face until she was steadied by Stephan's sturdy build, his arms pulling her into him after her spin. The princess gasped when he suddenly twirled her again, surprise written across her face. Her legs quickly moved according to his lead, the dark green edges of her dress glittering the ballroom's light. When they'd finally settled back into a softer tempo, Teresa reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. A small blush heating her cheeks as she looked up at the guard dancing with her. Stephan. She'd always referred to him as the handsome guard. High cheek bones. Dazzling green eyes. If he showed her even the smallest bit of interest, oh, she could just swim in his eyes. 

Flashing her eyes his way, she knew he'd notice. Everyone noticed. How often would you be subjected to the gaze of eyes as pure gold as hers? Rarely, that's how often. With the warm colors of her hair and eyes contrasting with the cool color of her dress, Teresa knew she was a knock out. It was unfortunate that most still considered her a child. Especially her dad. He wouldn't let her even talk to most boys, much less go on a date with them. Gaia, she was looking forward to attending Decamron Academy. 

And it wasn't that she particularly dislike her position, her eyes peeked up at Stephan again, but it was impossible to get close to them. Again Teresa leaned in, trying to put her body closer to Stephan but the guard smoothly back stepped. Always maintaining a couple inches of space between their bodies. No doubt her dad's orders. 

She suddenly stopped, a woman dressed in a pinstriped suit catching her eye. Teresa ran through the names of the nobles real quick and fell on Singlance after a moment. Though, it really wasn't a hard guess. A woman in a suit at a ball? It was either Aveline Singlance or Abigail Karradeen. And, from what she'd been taught by those dumbass scholars, chances were very low that Abigail would wear a pinstriped suit. Too odd. But that was exactly what screamed Singlance. 

Laughing, Teresa patted Stephan on the shoulder with a slightly regretful look. Those shoulders... her cheeks flushed red and she swiftly looked away. Without another word she heads toward Aveline, a smile forming on her lips. Not the false happiness that a noble or royal might where to be polite, but a genuine smile. At least with the Singlance's she wouldn't have to bother putting up the princess front. In fact, it would probably be wiser not to. Not that she really wanted to anyways. 

Though the gorgeous green dress she wore, a gift sent from Renovatio, was a nice benefit of status. 

After a moment she reached Aveline and, disregarding all notions of formalities or expected social behavior, Teresa held out her hand for Aveline to shake. If her studies were correct, that was the way people greeted each other from the land the Singlance's lived in before Lunaris. "Hello La-," she stopped herself right before calling Aveline Lady Aveline, "Hello Aveline Singlance. It's a goddamn pleasure to finally meet you." 

Ah. Oops. First conversation of the night and she was already swearing. 


Edited by Ataraxy

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 When the under-butler of the Dali estate---a man in a near perpetual state of impendending exasperation, the stress presumably linked from constant contact with the Moontravelers that stomped in and out of the Dali’s seaside beach house---approached Vesper with an invitation to the Emperor’s Reverie celebration, the lieutenant had only thing to say:

 “Jonathan, you know I care little for balls.”

 An innocent enough statement, until one paired with it Vesper’s arched brows and her scarcely contained smirk. Rather than ignoring the double entendre, for Jonathan had enough experience with Lady Vesper and her tendency to exponentially multiply crude jokes until one was forced to acknowledge them, he released the practiced grip of his ruddy features and rolled his gray eyes.

 “My lady, should I remind you that you would serve as chaperone for Lady Merida and companion for Lady Evienne? Please, do refrain from having them parrot your comedy routine for the emperor.”

 And so with this warning in mind, Ves managed to maintain a sense of decorum during the Reverie Ball’s preparations, spare the bark of laughter she uttered when Evienne initially proposed a custom gown. Cramming Vesper into one of her diaphanous dresses would have been akin to swathing a shark in silk. The result would have been distinctly unsettling.

 Evienne’s final product, however, was perfection.

 She served as a well rounded contrast to the softness of Merida’s full skirts and the artistic sensuality of Evienne’s gown. There were elements of femininity---the delicate lace of her cravat, the cut of her dark blue velvet trousers as they curved along her hips and hid beneath the supple leather of her thigh high boots, the accents of her vest that nipped in and accentuated her waist---that were not lost in the Terran inspired suit. There were even sheathed pockets for hidden blades, a detail that Vesper found infinitely amusing. Had Ves been privy to Duchess Karadeen’s thoughts on the proper fashions of a lady, she would have presented Evienne’s creation as a counterpoint.

 “Stop fretting, Goldie.”

 In the carriage, a lazy grin was offered to her younger cousin. Vesper had claimed her seat at Merida’s side, one leg crossed loosely over the other as she leaned back into the plush cushion. “Soon enough, all the closets of Ursa Madeum will be yours. Glance out a window that overlooks any street and you shall see a legion of non-stifling cravats that fit perfectly fine.”

 Appearances dictated that Vesper was the most relaxed of her relatives, yet a dangerous undercurrent roiled beneath her calm demeanor. The focus of her ire was neither velvet nor unwanted suitors harassing little Merida, but the hosts of this evening; the Emperor himself.

 There were certainly many that revered the seraphim as their savior, yet Ves was less inclined to put her faith into his hands. He, and the empress, were masters of something that the humans and elven folk of Ursa Madeum lacked: an unrecorded and unknown amount of power. Raw power, for it was not the average sort that could walk through the rift of another world and assert control over another sovereign nation, even one weakened by the blows of civil war. Their true motivations were unknown to Vesper, even as the native noble houses participated in a series of diplomatic conflicts that were as fruitful as a serpent choking on its own tail, and that is what concerned her.

 It was Reverie night, certainly, yet when one’s life has been intertwined in warfare since their youth and then suddenly cut short with an unexpected era of peace, a sense of discontent creeps through even at joyous times. She felt the Sea Witch shift beneath her skin, ran a hand through her short blonde hair, and cut her gaze to bucolic scenery rolling out of the carriage window.

 Tonight is the Dali’s night, she told herself as the carriage rolled to a stop. Try to behave, she warned herself as she guided Merida safely to the castle doors. Look at them. Evienne with her satisfied smile, Merida with her practiced poise. It was all for them, wasn’t it?

 With Evienne guiding them, they made their way to the ballroom. Vesper’s sharp brown eyes glided over the art that adorned the walls, settling along a particularly fine example of one of Ashia Uldengov’s allegorical works. The Muse of Harmony, she decided, if one were to judge by the fine mist of water droplets gleaming over the central figure’s supple skin and her golden feathered wings. Before she could stride over to it for closer inspection, Evienne was intercepted by another finely dressed party led by a beauty in black.

 Their bow was returned with a more shallow variation, a brisk greeting that still offered respect. “Our Evienne has been blessed by the Uncanny God of Art,” Vesper remarked, “and in a manner that she can mold us all into her vision of beauty. Her designs suit you all well.”

 Laila. This woman reminded her of Laila. The same dark, stormy hair and hidden eyes, though there was something in the trace of Dahlia’s lips that was more secret, more profound. Try to behave, she warned herself once more, suppressing the laugh that bubbled in her throat as her mind swung from paintings to art.

 “This is the Lady Merida, of the Transmutation guild,” she said, placing her hand comfortably on Merida’s shoulder. Whenever introducing her niece, a tangible glow of pride warmed her words. It shifted to a lupine mischief as her free hand gestured to herself. “I’m Lieutenant Vesper Moontraveler. May I inquire as to what your names are?”

@LikelyMissFortune @Witches Brew @vielle

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1 hour ago, Ataraxy said:

"Hello Aveline Singlance. It's a goddamn pleasure to finally meet you."

"Same here; heard a lot about'chya," Aveline says as she shakes Teresa's hand. Then her eyes dart back to Teresa's dancing partner. Aveline had seen the expressions Teresa had. "Ya wanna fuck him, don'chya?"

The only reason Teresa would possibly be concerned about swearing while conversing with Aveline, or Thurgood for that matter, is because she doesn't know either of the (mustly) humans in drow (blue) skin. The first thing Teresa would probably notice about Aveline is that her shoulders are pretty broad, and her hips are just as wide, giving her an hourglass figure, albeit a wide one, that her suit hides quite nicely.

"That's a pretty dress," Aveline says, "but hydrogen would freeze in hell 'fore I ever consider wearing one. Think we could sit somewhere and talk, I'd like to get to know you better, if you don't mind of course."

Aveline hasn't even considered whether Teresa knows what ydrodgen is, or at what temperature it freezes, Hell, Aveline doesn't know that temperature, but she knows it's really fucking low.

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The click of heels on marble put her in a trance- with every sweeping step she took, closer to the ball room, Evienne's heart drummed a little faster in her ear. Eventually, the roar was loud enough that it convinced the young woman that all could her the sound, and that it has betrayed the emotions her body strained to hide so adeptly. All that could be done was to temper her step to fall a touch more gingerly, and will the smile curling upon her lips to grow a fraction wider; hands clasped so tightly at her back that the delicate appendages seemed almost ghostly, even with her usual pallor.

Click. Inhale.

Clack. Exhale.

Evienne willed her back a little straighter, the sound her shoes made should make her feel confident- powerful.

She was confident.

And, her power resided in the swish of fabrics, a gentle smile- and the stares she held.

It also stemmed from the lovely ladies flanking her, soft and feminine to her right- bold and daring to her left. She often speared them with quick sideways glances, a quip at the dreadfully elaborate panniers that some of the older nobles wore readily bursting forth from her lips serving as an excuse to her observations.

"That one," She tittered, once, to Merida, "The one we just passed- I know you couldn't see, but she looked like she had an entire ship under those skirts!" 

She linked her arms with both of the ladies, conspiratorial grin hidden beneath the flutter of her fan, her voice velvety with mockery. "Isn't that right, Moonie?"

They both ambled along fine, from what she could tell. Neither one of them seemed out of breath, or tripped on any hems, so, Evienne could settle her heart. It was alright.

Truthfully, her Cousin's words were a crutch, perhaps, without whom her anxiety would seep out in rolls and waves, making it plain to all. So, Evienne was grateful for the small words and tried to focus on her lavish surroundings. The art and not the unnaturally augmented hips that some of the ladies had on- trying not to bump into their partners and friends.

Here, in the ballroom, surrounded by all the treasures the Empire had at its disposal was lovely to behold. The artwork hanging from the walls, and placed in tasteful corners- even the steady rhythm of the music that guests twirled and swayed to, were splendid. And, there were there to convey the strength of the Empire, they were there to convey the promise of security and prosperity that would follow obeying the empire... and a warning to those who would plot against it.

We have delivered you from a madman, it reminded, but, rebel and we can do far more than crush you.

There was only one word to describe it, and for once Evie followed Vesper's appreciated glances, gaping openly at the specimen works.

"Splendid", she managed, making all the sounds expected of a pleased Lady- but gooseflesh traced up her arms. 

The oppulent nature of the ball should've had her halfway to ecstasy, instead, she is reminded of her deal with a certain Rosenderian Spider, and it fills her with foreboding. Certainly, logically there couldn't be anything suspicious with the deal, but her intuition screamed at her otherwise. Determination, set heavily in her belly, to slowly coax her generous benefactor of all his secrets- and weigh the risks for herself.

But, for now, there was a party to attend to- and she hummed along to the three beat rhythm of the music, eyes scanning the crowd. "Now, Merida, I expect you to dance with everyone here!" She declares, trying to make up for the lingering sour taste in her mouth, "Man, woman and child. I want a full report too!"

She holds the stares of several of the imperial guards, and, quickly a fan is used to coyly mask her smiles. For every dozen of the old style that is donned by the flower of Ursa Madeum's nobility and elite, there is five in the flowing skirts and drapery of the Goldcourt new style. With a pointed appraisal of Vesper's masculine apparel she notes that there are a few ladies also dressed in suits.

The Moontraveller looked as though she were about to step closer to appraise the painting she had been gazing at when Evie was impeded by a woman with a very familiar mane of luxurious dark hair.

Dahlia Chamelis, and her staff, greeted the Dali party with respectful bows- but propriety is soon abandoned by Evienne's eager clasp of the owner's hands. Her eyes bore into the details of the clothing both she and Merida and so lovingly worked on; the wide, simmering smile is not one that could be suppressed.

"Dear Miss Chamelis! Oh-Oh, it's so wonderful to see you-- and your staff, all so beautifully clothed! You all look even more so dazzling than the last I saw you, even you, Marceu, I must know your designers." Her laugh is easy as she lets go of the woman's hands, only to flourish her arms towards her Dali companions.

But, her theatrics are interrupted by Vesper's comment, and she is caught off guard- her reddened cheeks and sudden silence providing ample evidence of it. "And, Vesper here has been blessed by the Uncanny God of Comedy- her tongue, I warn you Miss Chamelis, is sharper than her swords." She laughs once more, catching Merida's hand within her's- she presented the youngest Cousin to her patrons.

"Lady Merida here is also a very talented member of the transmutation guild," Her tone flowed, loosing any edge of sarcasm or mockery. "She helped create the dazzling designs you wear, isn't it amazing?"

She pauses only a moment to  correct the long train of her dress, "We all must present ourselves to the Emperor, ofcourse, but afterwards- I expect you and your lovely staff to honor us Ladies with a dance? If your cards aren't full of course."

@vielle @KittyvonCupcake @Witches Brew



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On 12/22/2018 at 9:56 AM, Tyler said:

"I cannot say I have had the opportunity yet, Lady Reyna." Abigail responded, "However, I have ensured that we have a supply in the wine cellar for the right occasion. Unfortunately, the business demands of the last few months have left me with precious few opportunities."

Grant sighed, "I'm afraid I understand the feeling. I've been running around so much the past few months, I've barely had any time to breathe."

Thrace was an island of great natural beauty, and a great amount of problems left over from the reign of the previous king. It was telling of just how terrible a ruler Damien had been that most of Grant's accomplishments had been repairing that idiots damage. But he had managed to get other things done as well. The trade deal with Norkotia had been one of them, and he had also made an alliance with House Singlance. The thought of the Singlance's made him remember Aveline, and he figured now was as good a time as any to go find her.

"Well, this has been a very pleasant conversation, but we should probably mingle with other guests. Excuse us."

The prince bowed, and led Reyna toward where he had seen Aveline heading.

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All the sudden noise that filled her ears was overwhelming almost, but it was amazing. There was an band of string instruments playing in a corner of the large ballroom, playing a melody that seemed easy to dance along too. She swung her cane gently in a sweeping motion, back and forth, making sure she didn't walk too quickly that she lost track of her cousin and her Aunt. She would be devastated if she lost herself in the gaggle of noblemen and women here and found herself searching blindly for the two familiar people in the entire castle. 

Merida snapped out of her terrifying thought as Evieene's voice caught her attention. She tilted her head to show that she was listening, and brought her hand up to her face to conceal a giggle, a smile coming to her face. "If only! Imagine a ship under someone's skirts, someone better not push them into the fountain, fear she'll sail away!" She giggled again at the thought of some woman floating along in a fountain or a pond, just an entire ship emerging from under her skirts, and sailing away. As her cousin linked arms with her, she let one more giggle loose as she heard her cousin call her Aunt, Moonie. No one would dare call Vesper Moontraveler "Moonie" to her face except for Eviee, it was quite charming. 

When Eviee said she was expected to dance, the girl's hand dropped from her face, and she clasped her hands together, suddenly becoming shy. She didn't want to disappoint her cousin by telling her that she was too nervous to dance, nor has she ever danced with anyone besides a dancing instructor. She honestly didn't think anyone would want to dance with her. Instead of telling her cousin this, she simply smiled, and shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure there's enough time to dance with everyone." She said, trying to hide her discomfort at the thought of being so close to another person. The conversation was cut short when she heard someone approach. No, multiple people approached. She unlinked her arm, and took a step backwards, listening to the exchange. Suddenly, her hand was scooped up, and she stumbled forward, making sure not to trip on her dress as she was being introduced. 

As she was introduced, her face turned beet red, and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a squeak came out. She was never good with praise, it always made her nervous. "U-uh, it was mostly Evieene." She managed to say. "My part was nothing huge, it was all her idea." She said, and she clutched the cane in her hands so hard her knuckles turned white. She then took on her shaky pale hands, and found the back of her Aunt's coat, and grasped it tightly in her hands. All these new experiences were amazing and slightly terrifying. 


@KittyvonCupcake @vielle @LikelyMissFortune


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Had there been a dictionary definition for Ambush of Words, Aveline's would have hit the nail on the head. All her studies on the noble houses, how they spoke, dressed, lived even should have prepared her for the encounter.  She'd known Aveline didn't beat around the bush and was rather brash with her words, disregarding proper speech. Not that Teresa minded, proper speech was a pain in the ass, but all that foreknowledge had by no means prepared her for Aveline. Not in the slightest. Her stature and blood line, even in her home city, hadn't let her be exposed to much more than high society. 

"Ya wanna fuck him, don'chya?"

Her mind blanked and her tongue suddenly felt twice its size. Her face could've fooled a farmer into thinking it was a tomato, and a rather ripe one at that. "Uh, um, no, well, I-i don't, of-of course not? I'm uh, n-not sure um, that's... uh, uh... W-what?" she stuttered, slightly envious at the rather fashionable group of women carrying fans. Her face felt like it was about to melt off. Had she really been that obvious? Did the guards notice too? Oh Gaia. If there'd been a hole nearby, Teresa would've jumped into it. And then jumped into the hole inside of that hole. 

"That's a pretty dress," Aveline says, "but hydrogen would freeze in hell 'fore I ever consider wearing one. Think we could sit somewhere and talk, I'd like to get to know you better, if you don't mind of course."

"T-t-thanks?" Still reeling, jumping from the first topic to her dress was making her head spin. Teresa took a silent breath, flattening her dress to by some time as her heart calmed. If only a little. "My dad got it for me from Renovatio. Apparently Port Sun is getting some fucking insane trade over there. Nu Martyr really lives up to its reputation!" The princess did a little spin, quite pleased at the compliment once she'd gotten her bearings back. She tilted her a head a little at Aveline's expression. Hydrogen? Hell? Earth words no doubt. "I'd love to! You can tell me about Vulcanium, I think it's called? I've heard my dad and guards talking about it, but no one's really explained it to me. Is it true that it can be used to cause a volcano to erupt?" Teresa asked, her words becoming faster and faster as she talked, her excitement palpable. 

Quickly becoming literally palpable as her energy started to influence the area around her again, short gusts of wind whispering through the ballroom for a few seconds before Teresa caught herself. Over the months she'd started to develop more control over her weather manipulation, but it still evaded her grasp to some extent. 

Well, at least she hadn't made it rain. Or snow, like she had at the Scarlet Empire's Flower Festival. She winced at the thought. Gaia, that had been super embarrassing. 

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"I dunno," Aveline says as she leads Teresa to the covered terrace to sit, "what I do know, 'cause Thurgood for a while would not shut up about it, is that it's a mineral that reacts violently with water to release thermal energy, or rather, get hot as fuck."

Teresa let Aveline know, with out coming out and saying so, that she doesn't understand more technical terms. So like a bunch of other times, Aveline has to keep a lid on the jargon.

"Apparently, it also leaves... a bit of shit that eats away at other shit. I think it reminds me of some certain metals that will fizz like crazy, then either light a fire, or even explode if you drop 'em in water." The metals Aveline are referring to are the more stable Alkaline metals: lithium, sodium, potassium, and rubidium. "Thurgood's keeps talking about how we can make ammo with it that won't be affected by the bullshit magic around Terrenus, and goes off on tangents about naval guns and tank cannons. Apparently he and Grant Knight found it when a water cooled coring drill hit a pocket of it."

But something Teresa said really interests Aveline.

"But... Port Sun? If there's so much fuckin' trade going through there, why haven't I heard about it 'till now?"

Probably because she's been busy with the civics of her house's march towards what she'll consider Ursa Madeum's industrial revolution.


Edited by notmuch_23

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On this evening, I buckle beneath my madness, and begin the long and twisted fall of my House...

They arrived at the ball late, but that did not at all dampen the spirits of the children and matriarch of House Uldwar. Such tardiness was done by design, as it drew the eyes of many of the guests towards the door, in order to see who it was that had come at this time. When they bore witness to the attire being showcased for this event, it was an understatement to say that jaws had dropped in amazement.

"You're certain the enchantments will hold, Luis?" Lady Uldwar asked.

"Of course, mother. Archmage Ingrid helped me apply them herself. They'll last as long as they need to." The young wizard said with a smile.

"Thank you, my son. You are turning into a good man indeed." She said.

"Let's not waste anymore time." Lord Uldwar said briskly. "We are here for more than just simple theatrics." With that they ceased talking, and entered the ballroom, heralded by one of the Uldwars personal squires.

"Presenting the Lord and Lady Uldwar, accompanied by their children, Luis and Illyana Uldwar!"

First through the doors was the Lord and Lady Uldwar, both sporting an incredible outfit of rich silks and satin. Stylized in the colors of their house, their clothing was a rich blood red, trimmed with black, and golden ribbons floating in a circle behind them, framing them in gorgeous silk. Truly they embodied the symbol of their noble house, as their faces were powdered white with a dark black line going down the middle, symbolizing the legendary blade of black metal that brought them to providence. Across their shoulders was a thick mane of black wolf fur, which when combined with the civilized and regal features of the dress, spoke volumes of the traditions that held true to life in Ursa Madeum for centuries.

Courage, honor, strength and civility rolled off the couple in waves, walking arm in arm into the massive room, with onlookers looking in dumbfounded amazement. They looked just as much as warriors as they did noblemen, and that's how both of them wanted it. This was the past of all their people, and they celebrated it without apology, without fear and without shame. All those who did not approve could do so after getting out of their way.

"You look stunning, my dear. Like something from the distant past." Oscar said softly, his heart truly finding comfort in her company, even if she did not reciprocate the feeling.

"Please don't try to mend what is broken, Oscar. We can never have what we used to, it's just too late." She said quietly, smiling at the admiration and respect rained upon them for their choice of dress. That little upstart from House Dali will find it will not be so easy to take her down from her position of power so easily. "For the sake of what we both care about, just let what we had stay buried."

Oscar was quiet for a time, his face darkening while his heart hardened ever deeper into stone. "Yes, my dear, you are right."

Luis and Illyana came next after them, each sporting different wardrobes, but all too similar to that of the influence wrought upon them by their parents. It was impossible to escape the fact that their progenitors shaped who they were, for better or for worse. All they could do was take it in stride, and live their lives as best they could, comforted in the fact that their parents supported them in what they did, no matter how much it strayed from their traditions.

Illyana had chosen Gaianism as her path through the world, her dress bearing the red and gold of her father's house, but instead of the black which represented the tool of war their house was known for, she had chosen green in accordance with her faith. Just as her parents sought to create a vision of warriors, so too did their daughter, bearing a striking resemblance to a valkyrie. Across her shoulders was a thriving canopy of leaves and foliage, filled with life as it draped itself down her back like a verdant cloak. Painted upon her face was the white tree of Gaia, a sharp contrast to the sword on her parents visages. Flowing fabrics of red, spirited ribbons of gold, and natural green life at her back, all that she is, she is for Gaia. After seeing the true depths of the power of her Goddess, never before has her resolve been so strong.

Luis on the other hand had elected to focus more on the arcane aspects of his path in life. Unlike the others, his was an entirely different aesthetic. Silver robes with green trim, covered in various glyphs of black. Three orbs of metal floated around him, occasionally giving off a spark, though never enough to actually hurt someone. Through these trinkets Luis could keep track of the enchantments he had placed on his parents clothes, allowing him to funnel more magic into them if they required it. Looking around, he felt a little out of place, but was glad at least to be here for his parents, even if it meant taking some time out of his studies.

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Da_PTcmVAAARzh8.jpgdahlia chamelis

The words have not yet completely flown from Dahlia’s lips when Lady Evienne bypasses formality entirely, reaches out to clasp her hands in lively enthusiasm, her smile almost as blinding as her clothes.

"Dear Miss Chamelis! Oh-Oh, it's so wonderful to see you--and your staff, all so beautifully clothed! You all look even more so dazzling than the last I saw you, even you, Marceau, I must know your designers."

Dahlia looks over her shoulder just in time to catch Marcy’s split-second smirk before he schools his expression to polite gratitude. She gives him an amused look before shifting her attention back towards their patron with a playful grin. “You certainly know them, my Lady; they’ve quite the popular brand in Ursa Madeum. Perhaps they would someday expand beyond our borders, so that all of Terrenus should see the superiority of their designs,” she winks, lips curling as if to repress the urge to spill molten secrets out into the open.

“Our Evienne has been blessed by the Uncanny God of Art, and in a manner that she can mold us all into her vision of beauty. Her designs suit you all well.”

She nods, grants the suit-clad woman her full attention. She must admit: even as Lady Vesper’s fashion is deemed uncommon in the islands, the way she carries herself leaves a lasting expression on the mind. “We thank you kindly, my Lady. It is truly an honor to wear such beauty upon our persons.”

"And, Vesper here has been blessed by the Uncanny God of Comedy- her tongue, I warn you Miss Chamelis, is sharper than her swords."

Dahlia shares Lady Evienne’s laughter, watching the three move with ease around each other like finely-tuned clockwork, grace and intimacy and trust plainly evident in every shared touch and glance. Surely they are—?

“This is the Lady Merida, of the Transmutation guild. I’m Lieutenant Vesper Moontraveler. May I inquire as to what your names are?”

Her observations serve her well, Dahlia muses, taking stock of the names for future recall. From the corner of her eye, she notices the faintly inquisitive arch of Niko’s mouth as he gazes upon the nobles; she cannot claim to know the processes of his mind, but it almost looks as if he’s imagining them in some sort of grand endeavor involving the teahouse. It almost causes her to miss the query put forth, with the laughter trying to escape her lips.

“Well met, Lady Vesper,” Dahlia smiles, bows low once again before continuing, “I am Dahlia Chamelis, proprietor of the Andelusian High Tea Society. These fine gentlemen with me are some of my staff.” She gestures to each one as she introduces them, and the proud curve of her mouth is unmistakable. “This is Niko Zanderiel, his brother Marceau, and Gareth Scipio.” Both Niko and Gareth bow formally at the mention of their names, as Marcy sees it fit to add an exaggerated flourish of his hands to his own. Realizing she has not quite addressed the youngest of the nobles, Dahlia turns to Lady Merida and inclines her head politely. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, my Lady.”

"Lady Merida here is also a very talented member of the transmutation guild. She helped create the dazzling designs you wear, isn't it amazing?"

“Oh, really?” Dahlia looks down at the shimmering fabric pooled at her feet with a thoughtful expression.

"U-uh, it was mostly Evienne. My part was nothing huge, it was all her idea."

The girl stutters, almost childlike in her bashfulness, and Dahlia’s heart goes out to her. She takes a moment to step forth, tilting her head as she regards the noblewoman with softness in her eyes. “We must thank you as well, then, Lady Merida. You may think your part too little to be almost inconsequential, but without your help, we would not shine as brightly as we do now.” She is but a stranger yet to the lady, but Dahlia hopes her words would encourage the young noble, at the very least.

"We all must present ourselves to the Emperor, of course, but afterwards- I expect you and your lovely staff to honor us Ladies with a dance? If your cards aren't full of course."

She opens her mouth to reply when Marcy beats her to it, all easy charm and sparkling joviality. “Our cards will always have a spot for our dearest patrons of fashion,” he grins, casting an guiseless look at the other men. Dahlia rather thinks he’s enjoying his brother’s evident apprehension at the mere mention of dancing. She and Gareth share an amused glance as Marcy continues. “We should hope to illuminate the dance floor before the night ends, should we not, my Lady? The High Tea Society looks forward to it.”



@LikelyMissFortune @KittyvonCupcake @Witches Brew


Edited by vielle

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aeb59c98164381a792734e337898f18b--vampire-girls-red-eyes.jpgNova said nothing as she watched the guests. Her lithe petite form leaning against the door frame. She lingered near the lone lady staff member. 

She flashed a smile as she looked at her. A beautiful creature ripe for change. For now she'd play it cool and not draw attention to any with weapons. 

Nova bowed as she kissed Emmaline's hand. Though she hid her fangs very well. This woman was an intriguing creature. Someone to take from a boring life and create a better one. 

But before she could ask for a dance Nova saw Emmaline dancing with another staff member and bit her lip. She would return herself to the door frame and leaned against it. 

Her different coloured eyes staring Emmaline down. She would have her. She drank the punch in a slow silence. But then the dance had ended and it was now her chance. Nova walked up to Emmaline, taking her hand and kissed it, bowing before her. 

"Good evening dear Emmaline. How are you faring tonight? It's been forever since we last had been together. I do hope you are well. It's me Nova Illumonsa of the House Immunosa. You're still beautiful as ever."

Nova then stared into Emmaline's eyes. It was a long time since the pair had seen each other. Nova's travels brought her all over Terrenus and mostly in Emmaline's company as they were old friends. 

"Care to dance my sweet Emmaline?"

Nova's sheet: 

Edited by Rin

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7394a965a078adc29fce06d03df278c0.jpgHOLLY SHEATHE

Ah the reverie. It was quite the extravagant event that Holly could hardly believe she managed to get inside one. If not from the assistance given by House Hildenrade, she would never expect she would be able to be in this place, let alone step within ten meters of it. Wide eyed, she exclaimed at the beauty of it all. So this is what it means to be of noble birth. Such a stark contrast with what she was used to in that farm of hers where there's only the soil and the plants and her smelly cousins to work with. There was a past where she had been in the farther reaches of Terrenus, running wild with some unsavory individuals but that was in the past now and Holly has nothing to do with it. Now she's just one of the common folk a vassal under House Hilderbran-

"Oh dear me! What a lovely occasion."

-and there goes Holly's perfect evening as the voice of someone who should have been dead invaded her ears. It was the vile woman, whose hair was as silver as her tongue and her lack of concern for proper etiquette was rather blatant in that ridiculously short dress and that out of place long coat.. How that devil managed to follow Holly to this place was something of a mystery and as far as Holly is concerned, she'll never find the answer to it. Sighing her frustrations, she turned towards the source of annoyance. "Mistre- I mean Madame Linda Linda, I did not know pests are invited here."

"Surely you jest, my dear. I am invited everywhere. My appearance here is more than proof enough of that." The woman named Linda giggle, much to Holly's dismay.

"I'm not letting you ruin this for me, Linda!" Holly crossed her arms in an effort to make a stand for her right. "And you don't know anyone here either. There's no place for you here."

"Such a worrywart.," the woman replied as she draped one slender arm over Holly's shoulders. "I'm quite the well traveled woman after all. See that woman?" She pointed at Dahlia. "She's one of my business partners. We go waaaaay back. Then look at that latecomer." She pointed at the newly arrived Uldwars. "Ilyana Uldwar. I guess one can say the two of us had met under peculiar circumstance but I doubt she would remember me. That said, I was always a supporter of the Uldwars back then. Sadly I don't see Thurgood anywhere. That man still owe me a beating." She giggled then and lastly directed  Holly's view to Evienne. "And there's a nice lady. I can still remember her rather exquisite taste from our recent encounter."

Holly could only sigh in defeat as she was dragged to and fro the ballroom. "Yes, whatever you say Linda. Whatever you say."

"Now where is my date. Isaac darling?"





Edited by Thotification

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“... Thurgood for a while would not shut up about it...”


As Grant weaved her through the crowd, Reyna couldn’t help but listen in to the outlandish language of Aveline of House Singlance.


“... release thermal energy, or rather, get hot as fuck...”


It wasn’t that she was deliberately trying to eavesdrop.


“... a bit of shit that eats away at other shit...”


In a setting of such formality, it was hard for her ears not to pick up the use of coarse words and a poor attempt at wit. With little tact and a certain brashness to it, it was as if someone was bouncing ping-pong balls against her skull.


“... won’t be affected by the bullshit magic around Terrenus...”


Indeed profanity when timed precisely was a useful tool for humour and reducing tension. What Aveline Singlance did merely seemed to frustrate her even more. She felt like her cranium was going to burst.


“... there’s so much fuckin’ trade going through there...”


“Lady Aveline,” Reyna remarked as she and Grant emerged from a sea of conversing guests. “I’d be more careful with the words I used, especially in the presence of the Emperor. Some of us hear more than we should, and we do not do so by choice.”


Having vented her frustrations, she whirled to face Teresa.


“Princess, forgive me for intruding on your conversation. But I must say, that you do look beautiful tonight.”

@danzilla3 @Ataraxy @notmuch_23

Edited by Sleepy Seal

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And Reyna never heard Teresa cursing?

Cursing comes as naturally to Thurgood and Aveline as drinking, breathing, shitting, and pissing, which Grant should know by now. Besides, with Teresa's cursing, Titus should be used to hearing "fuck" thrown out casually.

But... being called "Lady" Aveline just drives her up a wall.

"I might be inclined to consider that, but please don't call me 'lady'."

Aveline doesn't want to come across as harsh, especially in front of Grant, an important ally. Then she turns back to Teresa.

"I really think we shouldn't continue until we get to the terrace. I just hope there's fewer people there."

@Sleepy Seal @Ataraxy @danzilla3

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DhZj5AaW0AALH7g.jpgemmaline lafiya

It’s like a blast from the past, Emmaline thinks.

Shortly after a few rounds of enthusiastic dancing, Kellen had been ready to call for a break. “You’re already tired, Kel?” Emma teases him, and he waves off her laughter with a weary shake of his head.

“Aren’t you?” The man chuckles when she answers him with a pout, but otherwise begins to move away from the dance floor, politely pushing his way through the crowd. “I’ll get us some punch, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

Emma grins at that; she really has been feeling worn out, the burn in her limbs growing more severe the longer she stays upright, but she will not be the one to bend first, not to Kellen nor to anyone else. Well, except maybe Dahlia, but then again, she’s the boss. “Just don’t get lost, okay? Don’t make me come get you!”

She is still giggling to herself when something catches her attention: a blur of silver hair, a pair of dark red eyes. It stops her cold right where she stands, and Emma blinks once, twice, trying to discern whether what she’s seeing is real or not.

“Nova?” She takes a step forward, almost wary of the woman before her disappearing like mist. “Is that you?” The woman comes to meet her halfway, takes her hand and kisses it in a show of familiarity that sends an unbidden shiver down her spine.

"Good evening dear Emmaline. How are you faring tonight?"

Her usual wit has been silenced, speechless, nowhere to be found when faced with a specter from her past. Emma can do nothing but gape as Nova introduces herself to her once more, as if she had ever truly forgotten one of the friends she had obtained long ago. The compliment towards her beauty, to be ignored had it been any other stranger, brings a faint flush to her rosy cheeks.

Nova Illumonsa, here in Ursa Madeum. Who would have thought?

"Care to dance my sweet Emmaline?"

Her previous dancing has left her exhausted, Emma wants to say, but why should she not dance with a long lost friend? “Ah—yes, yes, of course,” she smiles, taking Nova’s hand and leading her through the motions of a simple box step, keeping their linked arms between their bodies. “What brings you here, to Andelusia?”





Edited by vielle

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