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Aleksei

Masquerade! Every face a different shade!

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@danzilla3

                                     

uUs4xwD.pngRohini was but a simple leaf caught in the winds of the lady's interests; he was stuck in the throes of excitement and delight. She pulled him through the crowds of gathered individuals all masked and encrusted in finery; there were moments he tripped over exquisite dresses and coattails. His little slips did little to encourage her to slow down, if anything, it appeared to exasperate her need to find something exciting within the halls of the beautiful castle.

"Hurry up, Rohini!"

For such a small creature, the woman has one hell of a grip. He can barely feel his fingers that are being squeezed together in her vice-like grip. He had made an offhanded comment on how inappropriate it is for a princess to be holding his hand - a lowly assassin that barely has the rights to hold such a title. A part of him had hoped she would consider propriety and let him go so he could continue to lurk within the shadows. Unfortunately, Teagan cared little about titles, and their weight, what mattered right now was finding satisfaction to her curiosity.

The object of her fascination was the dwarves making a ruckus off somewhere in the lounge. Why the heir of Renovatio's throne feels the need to mingle with such creatures is beyond the ucissore's reasoning. Aren't ladies of her ilk supposed to be smiling coyly behind fans and entertaining the single men of this party? Or, filling their dance cards, getting a bit buzzed on the fine wine?

"The night is still young, Teagan. What's your rush?"

She turned to him in a rush of finery, causing the delicate crown atop her redhead to shift a bit, and her curls to bounce atop her decorated shoulders. Such an overwhelming creature, this one is. Spitting image of her mother with red curls in abundance, opal hues that gleam and shine, and a haughty attitude you can barely ignore. Thankfully, Teagan is a tad softer than her mother when it comes to attitude.

"I don't want to miss all the fun," she said with an accent that's sweet and warm.

"Do you plan on entering the games?" Gods above, what if she does? What's he supposed to do, tell her no? The very idea makes him want to cry a little.

"Not at all! I just want to see all the excitement going on."

That made ... sense. Teagan is an adventurous sort, but at the end of the day, she has been groomed to be a proper lady that will take her mother's seat once it's time. Much unlike her siblings, the princess has actually shown a bit of responsibility that's made her the preferable choice to rule. Rohini is a tad on the fence about that decision, but he doesn't have a horse in the race and can't say much about it all. Whatever happens, he knows he will be stuck with her until one of them says otherwise.

"Well how about we take a minute before rushing in? My feet hurt, and I could go for a drink."

He didn't want to wear the suit, but she had insisted they match - I can find you better! She said. All gussied up, the ucissore felt naked without his plain robes of white tied with an elaborate red sash.

"Is that all you ever do, is drink?"

"No, I also juggle, but I'm better at it when I'm drunk."

 

Edited by Aleksei

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@Wade

                                     

9TV3flF.png"Delaney? Oh my! First name basis on the first date - you move fast."

When she had first arrived at the Free Marches, all dirty and thin, bearing the weight of her beatings upon her skin, they celebrated her arrival. For the first time in all her years, the woman was washed thoroughly and given a title - reasoning - to be! Slavery had not taken away her withering spirit, she took to her duties quickly, ensuring the house she would never forget their kindness in giving her a life she has and always will cherish. It wasn't strange that her mind wandered to that day, for her current situation appears to reflect that moment - dressed in black amongst the sea of colors.

"It may wound your pride to tell you this, but," she leans in close to share a whisper, "I don't have my eye on you."

Not anymore, she thinks quietly to herself. There had been a time he was a blip on her radar; an obvious danger out in the seas of other terrible wonders. Maybe now would be a good time to slip a dagger into his flesh, or perhaps there is a chance to poison his drinks, but as the music picks up and their steps become a bit more complicated the chance to make either slip away. Not that she would, the time for revenge has grown cold and dull, no longer enthralling the Grand Seeker.

"As for the rest of you curious question," taking the lead, she turns the gentleman away with reason, "it's rather boring. Milorian isn't the scandalous sort, and his enemies have yet to show face, so I've little to do."

Delaney had caught a hint of one of her Seekers with her paramour, Grant. The elf may not notice Crowley due to the general atmosphere, but Delaney wanted to make sure that the young lady enjoys her night without running into an individual who will scare her half to death. The Seeker has just begun to get comfortable around humans, she doesn't need to be shocked back into timidness and palpable fear.

"Tell me, now that you've been pardoned, what will you do with your time?"

A genuine smile passes her lips, "Get married and buy a farm? Have a brood of children, I imagine?"

 

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So used to her commands being obeyed, Riha didn't think twice about the boy's quick agreement. Nor did she question how he knew her name, she wasn't exactly a well kept secret. In fact, she was flaunted at strategic moments during her servitude to the Uldwar's. The only concern she harbored in the back of her mind was that some day, someone could decide Uldwar hadn't payed his dues enough and come looking for her. 

"Perfect." She smiled widely, "I prefer Riha to Lady Carthrage though. If I wasn't so averse to men right now I'd do the smart thing, snag one and change my last name as soon as possible." 

She laughed a moment at her own joke, she hated being a Carthrage. The family name a stain on society, a name that never should have been used in high society - ever. Riha took a moment and put her mask back on to cover her sudden and strange joke. She noticed a change in her new found helper, his mask seemed different, it was shorter - and wasn't he holding it up with a stick before?

"Didn't you just have something different on your face?" She pointed to his face, "Must be seeing things." 

His words belaying danger had her quick to sooth, no - he didn't need to go so far as to shield her - unless he could shield emotions. In which case she would be more than happy to adopt him on the spot and keep him forever, especially if it meant she would never have to feel again. 

"Its just a pesky fairy." She waved a hand, "The worst it can do is drive someone insane.... which can easily be fixed by removing it from the area. We will have to corner it and I'll try and snag it before it can take off on us again.....Unless you can see the damned thing too, in which case, be my guest and grab it for me if it comes at you." 

Again she hazarded a look at the strange aura surrounding her companion, she wasn't at all sure the fairy could affect him. The hues seemed as if they were leaking from his broken eye - and something else was worming its way in. If that was the case...... he would make the perfect bait. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as a name floated to her ears. Pluto. She most certainly would ask him for his name though, more often than not calling someone by their name without them telling her freaked people out. That and ..... it was an intensely well guarded secret she kept, should someone use it for the wrong purposes....had Uldwar known and used it - this party wouldn't look as it did now. Riha had a way of simply knowing things. Illyana said it was a gift from Gaia - her father called her a freak. 

"Before we start this mad endeavor - I want to know two things." She held up two fingers, "One - do you care if we end up making a bit of a ruckus to get that damned fairy." She dropped one finger, "Two - By what name should I call you?"  

@SweetCyanide

Edited by DarkHorse

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Never was it a peculiar thing to find the spice of Andelusian opera pressed languorously at the hip against a grand piano. The case was especially true when drink was involved, and even more so when it was the drink of celebration poured from the ever flowing cup of newly crowned royalty. Naevala, swirling warm brown liquid gently in crystal cup between song, certainly was not the type of woman to miss the chance of spectacle. Rarely did anything pale Adelusia’s opera house’s splendor. But this castle… oh, this castle held more that evening after evening of dry stares from the pompous elite and overly affectionate women latched at their arms. This castle held than an ominous tower of red velvet stage curtains behind the slender shadow of a woman whose voice rang with eerily beautiful melodies that proclaimed her fear that one day the stage might consume her. No, this castle was alive. Light and music from every room, laughter and debauchery—the classiest of course. Naevala’s presence in the lounge was not for performance this night, but for observance.  

Still, she found her way to the piano cornered against the furthest wall from the grand room, where its composition might have a chance to reach ears though the commotion from the largest. A small, nameless man sat at the bench, fingers working diligently to play tunes fitting to the heritage of the castle’s masters. Hymns long lost to the memory of most in Ursa Madeum, but familiar to Naevala’s childhood. And thus, she could not resist.

The long, pale fingers of her pale hand not occupied by as glass of dark rum traced the fine wood of the grand piano as the she idly swayed to the notes playing, if only for her ears. From her lips, the softest high-pitched hums of songs of old danced outwardly into the air, interrupted only by the occasional eruption of cheer or disappointment from the dwarves very near. She did not mind. The arm wrestling was amusing to watch. Waddling, stout men huddled along every edge of a stunted table in the room’s center were so focused in their game, they barely noticed the entertainment. The dense contact of hand to back in a victory pat and frequent, baritone roar of victory as each man took their turn of strength against the other somehow welcomed a bass pleasantly matched to the beat of her song.

Naevala’s green gown reached trailed along the floor behind her, shifting ever so lightly with each waver of body. Lips curled at the corners at the sight of such merriment surrounding her, and she continually sang. Her eyes closed behind her mask at the depth of feeling for the ancient songs emitted from her mouth,.. for the love she had for the lyrics consumed her, sometimes entirely. She drifted, lost into their story, pulled back to present by her boisterous, distantly present company each time.

 She had chosen to attend the ball selfishly. Of course, primarily out of fealty to the crown. But to her own satisfaction, for the comfort of being alone, even surrounded by many. Above all, Naevala attended for the secrets the night held yet to be exposed; for the opportunity of the new and unknown to whisper to her its existence. It had been long since she’d felt the presence of its company.

 

 

Edited by havasu

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The party was just about what Rufus had expected. Beautiful people in beautiful surroundings making largely meaningless small talk, flanked on all sides by enough food and drink to feed an army. His cynicism came with a healthy dose of chagrin, as he knew that he had once loved these types of things. Yes, once upon a time he had been quite the social butterfly. Fluttering to and fro, he would charm partygoers with genuine warmth and, at least in his opinion, no small amount of wit.

But that was practically a lifetime ago now.

Ever since his time as a guest in the Tyrant Kings dungeons, he struggled to deal with crowds. At first he had been unable to stand them at all; spiraling into panic attacks that would require him to excuse himself. These days he was able to tolerate them, but it still set him on edge. It always felt like he was being watched, But fortunately this party had something that could help with this anxiety.

An open bar.

Rufus sat down next to a gentleman in a green suit who looked just as unhappy to be here as he was. He ordered a whiskey and glanced at the other patron.

"You look like you're having about as much fun as me."

@Aleksei

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Image result for alternate scp symbol

SM-6366-473
"Ursa Madeum Negotiation Mission"

Mission Log: Day [1]
Assessment: Subterfuge complete, parameters set in place. Beginning negotiations



"Apologies your highness, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Agent 6566, but for the sake of convenience I suggest to be referred to as simply 6." He spoke after sitting down. "I am here as a representative of the Valucrean Containment Foundation, Ordo Contra Furor as we like to say it."

 

He continued; "We are a Valucrean-wide organization meant to combat against all threats that prove to be dangerous to sentient beings, regardless of any species." while taking a booklet from his coat and putting in on the table "Of course, more information can be found in this here booklet, I trust you and your... 'partner', if you may, would be interested.".

 

"My goal is simple my liege, as you can see I am a fish out of water, and so are my colleagues. We by trade are technological people, relying on the intricacies of the future to aid us in our quest against the very threats that aim to harm our colleagues and loved ones," he spoke. 

 

He then stood up, continuing with "In these lands, our best swordsmen, agents, sorcerers, alchemists, magicians, all these pale in comparison to the locals who inhabit these strange and foreign lands. I implore you, your highness, to consider my offer well. I offer, in exchange for protection against external threats and outer-worldly hostiles, an... 'alliance', if you may. My conditions are simple; a site, designated S-1076, to be built in the neighbouring town and some of your finest men to be called upon in order to protect these lands you lay sovereign claim upon, and of course for VCF jurisdiction to be recognized in your lands."

 

He put both his hands on the table and hunched his back, clearly strained. He finished; "I know this is no easy request to fulfil, especially one so drastic to a new monarch, but I require your and Ursa Madeum's compensation. There are many threats within this magical, non-technological lands beyond our reach, and we seek to contain and study them, for your benefit and ours." as he sat back down. He was clearly exhausted, rambling on for minutes on end will do that to you, but he spoke to sovereign power; a king no less. If he messed this up, the VCF will lose a valuable ally and lose a whole domain of opportunity.



Directed: @Aleksei

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"Another!"

The call that erupted from Amira was firm, not ferocious. Loud, but not boisterous. A declaration, more than it was an invitation. It was the word to which she had given voice, as yet another opponent, admittedly one only two thirds her size, was sent tumbling over themselves to one side of the table. He joined the previous that was still, more for the effects of the alcohol than by any injury Amira had done, struggling to rise from the floor. A single cup sat in the middle of the table, eagerly filled by another dwarf, who was laughing with a loud howl as he poured the wine glasses - seized from a waiter who dared not refuse - into the mug, most likely brought by themselves, and then offered to the victor of the arm wrestle.

"And that makes four!" The dwarf remarked with a cheer, before laughing even more. "You sure you're human, lass?!"

"Quite sure." Amira answered firmly as she took the drink, placed it to her lips, and then leaned back as to down the whole thing in several, seemingly long seconds. As the last of the crimson ichor fell through her oesophagus, Amira gasped for air, exhaled to balance the rush, and then settled the mug back down on the table.

 

This was not at all as would expected of a lady, and that was that point.

 

In a setting as this, Amira desired to be beneath notice. Let her be undesirable; too plainly dressed, amidst foreigners indulging in their own fun, and acting in a fashion most would simply consider... well, she knew many would find this appealing, but in this context? It was not what would be looked for. There were too many faces that might recognise her, or that she might recognise, and in either scenario, she had urges to suppress. It was difficult to be sure; everywhere she looked, she considered people and their potential value, along with possible methods of approach. At one point, his... ugh, majesty had passed, and it taken so much not to go up and introduce herself, playing with the edges of a glass while hoping she might offer it to the man's lips. It had taken less when she reminded herself of the scene, and his company, and the numerous ways that such a move could go awry.

But, so tempting.

"You sure you won't take part in our little game, lass? You might damn well win it!"

"As I say, it is under... consideration." Amira beat her eyes in order to beat back the haze. She was resilient, as her blood would intend, but even she had her limits - in particularly because her blood was not like that of her kin. She put two fingers to the side of her temples, a small suggestion she would consider it... or a sign of a slight headache to nurse.

 

...Wait, was that...?

 

Her eyes fell on a redheaded creature, dressed in and accompanied by a companion wearing similar shades of green. Exact recognition was not immediate, whether for lack of genuine familiarity or for her growing state, but Amira could recognise that which sat atop their head. With the nature of such an event, the only ones that might think to wear something so specific as a crown - as opposed to a mask, though Amira's was admittedly placed to one side for the moment - were those for whom it was an obligation.

She knew who the other monarchs of these isles were, so this creature then...

...No, her curiosity was getting the better of her, so she refrained for now. Perhaps not registering that, uncharacteristically, her curiosity was painting itself quite obvious, without her deliberately doing so.


@danzilla3 @Aleksei if you'll have me

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Janus Dove did not wear a mask. (What was the use of a pretty face, only to bury it beneath sequin and feather?)

No, she was not here to hide, not at all.

The woman stepped into the palace, eyes glittering hungrily as she drank in the sights and sounds. This masquerade was a veritable feast for the, senses, one Janus took every second to savor. Funny, really, how much beauty one took for granted. Her gaze moved lazily across the space as she moved with a leisurely gait, turning.

Janus looked down, and the sheen of the marble floors captured the reflections of the guests as soft colors; a flowing mural, a plane of perfect symmetry. She looked up, dazzled by the gleam of the chandeliers - A false midnight sky. Golden stars, not white. The afterimage remained when she closed her eyes, neon green spots fading at the back of her eyes.

Even the soundscape was an music to her ears- every singular voice an instrument, a thread weaving the tapestry of murmured conversation that underlaid the orchestra's song. A waltz, she realized. Janus began to drift towards the ballroom, humming softly under her breath. Her steps matched the tempo - triple time, she remembered, pleased to know that bit of info-, she took hold of one corner of her dress as the strings swelled, stepped backward, sashayed--

and collided into someone.

"Oh my goodness," Janus cried, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my. I'm so sorry, sir-"

"Montresor." The middle-edged man, bedecked in a velveteen suit and a jeweled mask, had already stumbled to his feet. He dusted off his trousers, offering her a lopsided smile. "It's all right, dearie. You seemed like you were enjoying yourself."

Janus smiled, bobbing her head. She extended a hand; the man shook it. "Janus Dove," she leaned forward as if to impart a secret. "This is my first gala in an awfully long time," she whispered, cheeks pink. "I'd forgotten- oh, the nobility here do take themselves so seriously, don't they?"

"Oh," said Montresor with a hearty chuckle. "Not all of them. I used to be a noble myself,"

Janus' eyes widened. "You're joking!"

"House Montresor," the man man said with a grandiose gesture, puffing out his chest. He grinned at her. "You're not from these parts, are you?"

Janus grimaced. "It's that clear, isn't it?" She shook her head, smiling sheepishly. "I'm from the mainland. Just visiting. I heard about the gala and, well- I couldn't resist. I've always had a fondness for splendor." She tilted her head. "I do hope I'm not intruding, but... 'used to be'? Are you a noble no longer, sir Montresor?"

Montresor sniffed. "Ah, no. Haven't been for the last two years. But! I shan''t tie you down with my old stories." He bowed. "It's been a pleasure- ah, bumping into you, lady Dove."

Janus chuckled, curstying in return. "Likewise, sir Montresor. Perhaps we shall meet again, during the duration of my visit."

They parted ways. Janus continued further into the throng of people, admiring the menagerie of costumes. The key she had lifted from the man's coat pocket lay cold against her thigh, concealed in one of her dress' hidden pockets.

Silly man. The Montresors. A defunct noble house, stripped of rank and riches after the rule of Damien. Janus' smile gleamed brighter.

No, she did not wear a mask. She had no need of them.

As she wandered into the grand room, walking along the walls, a pattern emerged from the twirling pairs of dancers. Janus turned, casting her curious gaze across the room. There The dancers shied away from a single pair, disturbing the sequence of the pairs, casting ripples across the crowd. In contrast to the elaborate garb of the guests, these two wore black.

Curious. Janus studied the pair for a moment more, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of a lip, then continued further into the castle, humming under her breath.

The commotion in the lounge drew her attention, as well as the sight of food arrayed on several tables within. Once equipped with a glass of wine (untouched) and a platter of lemon cakes (half-eaten), Janus continued her directionless meandering.

The commotion was from a group of dwarves. Arm-wrestling - how unladylike. Once again, her attention was caught - this time, by a woman who stood at the doorway, a burning gaze fixed on a figure at the far end of the room. Janus followed her stare and found a red-headed woman. Was she, perhaps, important?

Janus decided it was best to inquire.

"I must say," she addressed the stranger, by way of greeting. "Ursa Madeum throws the most delightful balls," She extended a hand, found it occupied by a platter piled with lemon cakes, and withdrew it with embarrassment.

"That regal-looking lady looks to be quite important. If I'm not interrupting anything, would you be so kind to enlighten me who she is?" Janus asked, beaming a smile at the stranger.

@Meraxa

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Riha Carthage 

Riha barely took time to register the name given to her, she would likely ask for it again as her mind tended to be flighty. With so much going on inside her brain she rarely held on to things much longer than a few seconds....unless she was on a mission that is. 

“Well - off we go then!” She said to her companion ( @SweetCyanide )

Pulling a dagger from its hidden location, she cut the lower seam of her dress, creating a rather large slit so she could move easier. Holstering the secret weapon took a mere few moments before she took off at a run, high heels still firmly attached to her feet. Her hope was she could surprise the miserable little creature and nab it - but no luck was to be had there. The fairy anticipated her movements and buzzed back off towards the inside of the mansion. 

Heels clicking as she went, Riha changed direction and rushed back into the building, nearly knocking her twin from her perch where she was stealing a moment with her husband. 

As the fairy flew past, people around burst into tears, much like an over exaggerated play. Those unaffected looked on in complete confusion and horror as to what the sudden change was in the folks around them. Of course they would, perfectly happy people just don’t start sobbing uncontrollably! 

The fairy entered into the ballroom and Riha blasted past a woman standing just on the inside of it ( @Akako Akari ), barely missing plowing her over as she went. The fairy whizzed into the room and shot off towards where the sounds of lovely music drifted. It wasn’t easy keeping track of the drafted little creature, but it left a trail of sorrow and misery in its path. The way to the piano was nearly cleared as people got lost in their misery. 

Upon spotting Riha, the fairy shot off once again, going over the piano thinking it would slow down its pursuers progress. But not this woman; heels and all she used her hand to leap over the piano, hip skidding across the gleaming and polished surface as she went. In the process her mask came unattached and landed with a plunk onto the keys where the woman played, resulting in a rather unharmonious sound. ( @havasu ) 

Next the creature whizzed off through the dancing throngs of people, sprinkling tears as it went. So Riha charged after it, not losing as step as she went. Ducking under a couple and running between them and under their arms ( @Wade & @Aleksei ) then weaving through several other dancers her hand nearly closed over the creature when it seized opportunity and buzzed through a gaggle of women surrounding two men dancing next to the other. 

Several of the girls burst into tears, which made it easier for Riha to navigate around them, however,  when a group of girls is vying for the attention of a singular male.....well no more effective barrier could there be. The misery fairy paused to stick it’s tongue out at Riha thinking it had her good and stopped.....a normal human would have certainly taken the long way round. But Riha never took the longer route when a shorter path could be carved. Taking a few steps back she changed through the gaggle of girls, they parted like water in the wake of her determined fury. Many of them protested - loudly. Then, seeing the fairy just on the other side of the two men, she did the unthinkable. 

Speed, plus agility was on her side as Riha placed her hands on the inner most shoulder of the two men ( @Dauner Light & @MichaelTheLightBringer ), used her strength and theirs to lift herself up - and jump through the gap they created. The only evidence she’d been there was the heels laying helter skelter on the floor and the now enraged hive of women behind her. 

The momentum flung Riha through the air and she leaned with hand outstretched to catch the fairy, but missed and tumbled towards the ground. Her fall quickly turned into a summersault and she was up and running once again. The fairy running out of real estate quickly. 

It dove over the bar and so did Riha. Glasses, ale, food - people went flying as she skidded over the smooth top of the bar on her belly and landed with a resounding crash on the other side. ( @danzilla3, @Meraxa, @Csl ) 

A triumphant hand shot up over the top of the bar, Riha appearing quickly behind it. Of course Riha was sobbing, being in such close proximity to the fairy, but her sense of victory was so strong it nearly overpowered the creatures abilities.  To the untrained eye, she would look completely insane, hand waving something around that no one but her could see. The only evidence something was there; Bite marks appearing on her hand and causing it to bleed. To a magically trained eye - they would likely be able to see the miserable creature clutched in her fist. 

She transferred the creature to her other hand, pinching its wings between her fingers so it couldn’t bite her. 

“A jar with a lid if you please.” She requested of the bar tender as if it were an every day occurrence. 

As she waited for it to appear, which was surprisingly quick given the nature of her sudden appearance, she looked around realizing the mess surrounding her. 

“Ah -“ Her tearful smile faded for a moment, “I caught a misery fairy....” 

She offered by way of explanation, finally stuffing it into a jar and putting the lid on it. 

 

Edited by DarkHorse

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Amira had seen the stranger coming out of the corner of her eye. Even with her current state, the sort of attention to detail she paid to her surroundings meant that she most certainly could not miss something of such fervently bright hair as the one that just waltzed right up to her. She... didn't recognise them, and after blinking a few times - something she could pass off as batting her eyes, surely - she was fairly certain that was an acceptable outcome in this case. If there was a name of any notoriety to go with the face, it was one outside of Ursa Madeum; given the nature of the festivities, it was not at all unexpected.

"It can. Though I wouldn't especially count this among them." Amira answered the stranger's opening remark, as she plopped a lemon cake in her mouth - seized when the blonde had extended her reach without thinking. The answer was quite curt for Amira, who with rosy cheeks, smirked to say, "The best affairs are private in nature."

 

Regardless, it would seem that the woman had a similar eye for detail that Amira had, and upon realising that, Amira's smirk softened into a more neutral, curious look. Responding to the inquiry, she raised one arm, and said, "A sip of your drink, and I'll tell you."

Whether because the blonde had actually acquiesced to the request, or because she had held out long enough that Amira simply grew bored of playing coy, she ultimately confessed, "I don't actually know who that is, but I can tell you what she is. Because in a party where the dress code is masks," She said, briefly realising that her new, unclear companion had no such mask herself, "And where actual monarchy is present, only a few would get to wear a crown freely. And I know enough of the royalty in and around these islands, even the new ones, that I can tell you... she's not from around here. So congrats, you're ogling a foreign princess. The red hair especially is quite exotic, I should think."

It was at that moment, as if something somewhere had decided to flip a coin, that a woman suddenly flung herself through the air, passing over the bar from which the dwarves had procured so much wine. Tilting her head that way, Amira had initially considered ignoring the matter and moving on, only for the subject to re-emerge, permit a better assessment of who they actually were, and just what it was that had made them commit so daring - or deranged - a stunt.

 

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal daughter of the Carthrage family." She mused, rising from her seat and sauntering - if not entirely steadily - across to the bar. Leaning over the counter, a mess of her falling about her face, Amira giggled. "That's a mourning fairy, though I suppose in some parts they might be known as 'misery' fairies. Significantly overlap to an observer."

Revealing that she could in fact see the little critter - and even giving it a few playful flicks to the head, retracting her finger whenever it so even thought to try and bite her in response - when the bartender had found themselves a spare jar with which to contain the creature, Amira watched as the younger woman contained it.

"Unless you're keen to have a pet, I could make use of it. Powerful extracts to be had from a creature as this..." She murmured, leaning in closer, not entirely ignorant of - or much caring for - the perspective she might be creating for observer's behind her. "Perhaps I could owe you? One disparaged daughter to another."

 

"Amira Spidervalley," She introduced herself at last.

@Csl @DarkHorse

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Janus blinked as one of her lemon cakes vanished. An unfortunate turn of events, but a fair price to pay, she decided, for making a new acquaintance.

The best affairs are private in nature. She raised an eyebrow, the beginnings of a roguish grin crossing her lips. "Oh, indeed. I'm sure you've quite some stories to tell." Was her new acquaintance, perhaps, privy to the private goings-on of the noble court? She certainly didn't seem like it, at first glance - wearing such drab clothing, engaging in arm-wrestling. But perhaps this was a creature of similar mind as hers. Perhaps she, too, had come to skulk beneath public notice, to enjoy herself without the weight of attention she normally bore.

At the request, Janus gladly offered her glass. The answer lacked the detail she desired, but was interesting nonetheless. A foreign princess. Janus' eyes danced. "Well, that makes two of us. Though I'm no royalty, myself." This discussion was edging too close to politics for her liking. Janus returned her attention to her companion. "But, are you-"

Janus caught a blur of motion in the corner of her eye. A sudden wave of grief made her shiver. Am I- what is this?

CRASH.

The woman blinked rapidly, vision suddenly obscured by a blurry curtain of tears. Control yourself. Janus produced a lace handkerchief from somewhere within her dress. She set about to dabbing the liquid from her eyes with an uncharacteristic frown. Tears. Nasty things. When the irritant was gone, she found the bar swept clear of its contents - what disrespect! - and her companion moving towards the cause of the disturbance - a young lass with a jar. Janus hurried after her.

Two things made themselves immediately clear. The girl with the jar was named Carthage. The creature in the jar was a mourning fairy - that, to Janus' relief, explained the tears. The ever-present smile grew brittle for a moment, her blue eyes dulled in the haze of a memory.

A third thing made itself clear - the name of her new, dare she say, friend. Amira Spidervalley. A disparaged daughter, along with this Carthage lass.

"As long as we're making introductions, I'm Janus Dove," she said brightly. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Spidervalley" a short nod to the brunette, "Miss Carthage." another nod to the tear-streaked girl. Janus cast a watchful eye around the scene, then grinned. "Perhaps we should bring this conversation somewhere less... destroyed? Such a feat of athleticism it must've been to catch that little thing."

She offered a hand (the one which held no plateful of lemon cakes) for Carthage to pull herself up.

@Meraxa @DarkHorse

 

 

Edited by Csl

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