The Mad God's Masque and Bellicose Ball (IC) (M)

[Cogidubnus]

The fox nodded, and rested his chin on tented fingers. "It is as you say, Ms. Broussard." he said, giving her a somewhat knowing smile. "Although, my employer is not so mercenary as that. His fortunes, as they are, rise or fall depending on your success." He leaned back, the leather in the chair creaking as he moved, and reached into his jacket. He produced a slim cigarette case, silver and shiny.
"Do you smoke, Ms. Broussard?" he said, plucking a cigarette from the case. He laughed to himself a moment later. "Of course you don't. You're a doctor." he said, and snapped the case shut. He grabbed the cigarette between his teeth.

"Smoking is a lot like doing business with bad people, Ms. Broussard." the fox said, lighting the cigarette. He puffed on it for a moment, and the ember at the end glowed in the dark room. "It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and in the end, it's liable to kill you. But once you start, it's awful hard to stop." he blew a cloud of smoke away from the table. "And like cigarettes, bad people have ways of getting you hooked. Instead of nicotine, they use blood."

He looked at Esme carefully. "I don't know if you have an interest in politics, Ms. Broussard, but if you do, you probably know that trust doesn't exist among...the politically minded, I suppose." The end of the cigarette glowed as he inhaled. "And when you do business with bad people, this is something they are very careful about. They don't trust anybody. So, do to business with them, you have to a reason to not...change sides, as it were. If you don't have a reason..." he smiled, and his teeth shone in the dim light. "They make one for you."

He dragged an empty condiment tray over and ashed his cigarette in that, putting it out in the process. "I trust I don't have to paint you a picture of what's happened, however. Bad people kill you in the end. If they can't do that, they do their best to ruin you. There is...a man, here. A ringtail, I'll point him out to you later, who has evidence of some of my employers past misjudgements. I cannot take it from him myself for...various reasons." the fox's expression darkened momentarily. "But you are uniquely suited to getting close to him, beg-, asking for money." he reached into his coat pocket again. "All we ask of you is that you give him this." he pulled a ring from his coat. It was heavy silver, with the sign of the Red Cross in enamel and coral. "Give him this...and walk away."

He waited expectantly.

* * *

The wolf smiled at Kiet. As smiles from wolves were wont to be, it was bright and full of fangs and amusement. "I'm just a soldier, General. Sometimes, being a soldier is more than just knowing how to kill. But...this would be a distortion." he said, his smile fading just slightly. "I am merely a lover of old things."
He tilted his head again. "How long since you last marched? I have been busy over the last three hundred years. I don't think I recognize that uniform firsthand, though."

"As for the arts, I am." he paused, looking at both Camiole and Kiet alternatively. He turned back to Kiet eventually, and made a short bow. "My name is Cogidubnus Mithlome. Yourselves?"

* * *

Horatio grinned at the lioness. "Not where it shows, no. My boss is nice like that."

He raised an eyebrow at her inquiries, but nodded in assent quickly. "Yes, that is General Ti'Paollo. I wouldn't...Cubi are flighty, yeah. He's been around a long time though, so don't be fooled. He's got a history written in blood." Horatio pursed his lips, looking at the incubus, and then back at Andrace. "Thanks for the compliment though, Ms-...Andrace. Just your standard monkey suit..." he paused, looking at Andrace. He tilted his, and then began a slow grin. Presumably, there was a sparkle in those green eyes, behind his shades.

"You look like you're found a mouse trying to carry off a piece of cheese bigger than it is."

* * *

Cerebus took a sweeping glance of the room after moving past that unfortunately lucky adventurer, and not seeing anything particularly interesting, took the first door in the left and began down the hallway. From somewhere he produced a mask that he quickly snapped into place, a solid, elegant white plaster attached with elastic. His strides took him down the hall quickly, reaching the end and then taking the stairs down into the cellars. He seemed to know where he was going, certainly.

In the cellars, the gothic flavor of the castle only seemed to intensify. Humidity and cold made it dank, the black stones now black due to grime as much as actual color. The hallways here seemed labyrinthine, for someone who didn't know where they were going. He produced a long thin knife from his jacket, his steps becoming light. He turned corners seemingly at random, but eventually a pattern emerged - he was heading south, and downwards. No sound but his footsteps echoed in the stone hallways.
The Castle, it appeared, had more than one or two basements too. The stone floors eventually gave way to tunneled rock. Cerebus let out a grin.

"Simple enough. Just remains to..." as he stepped forward, instead of walking into a cavern carved from the heart of the mountain, he instead walked straight into what felt like a solid wall. He cursed, dropping the knife. Blood trickled from between his fingers.
"The hell-"

He looked around abruptly, at surroundings that weren't there a moment before. He looked back, and the cavern before him was a wall of solid stone. A smiling dog's face was chalked into the stone. His teeth gritted together.
Somewhere in the tunnels, howling laughter, terrible, forced, insane laughter echoed through the stones.

[Gareeku]

That man..." Gareeku replied, starting to calm down yet still somewhat in shock. "Is one who has tried to kill me more than once, and very nearly succeeded."

Sighing, the wolf rubbed his temple for a moment before turning to Rynkura.
"A few years ago, when I first met Aisha, I was travelling with a group. After an incident, however, I became separated. I quickly found out I was a wanted man, and my slight cockiness led me to be captured." Gareeku explained with mild annoyance at himself for getting caught. "I woke up in an unknown location, some sort of secret facility owned by Cerebus where I first came face to face with him. Turns out he had wanted to meet me for quite a while, for his own personal gain, of course."

Looking around for a moment, Gareeku found that Cerebus was now nowhere to seen. His eyes narrowing for a moment, he then turned back to the tigress.
"This....this curse...he wanted it for himself...wanted to make it some sort of weapon..." The wolf continued with a grave expression on his face. "I don't know whether he wanted to sell it to the highest bidder or keep it for himself. All I do know is that he has a lot of money, a lot of contacts and powerful allies, and a lot of knowledge, both technologically and magically. He's very dangerous."

[e_voyager]

looking around the ballroom are Aten was impressed. there were more people here then he realized would be at the event and more were arriving still. even see it was time to put away the bumbling slightly confused persona and put on the mask of utter confidence and slight arrogance. on to of his normal mask. taking a closer look at the guest he recognised some of them form his trips through the hotel lobby here was the teacher that he spoke with and there were those the Icewings'?  he wasn't sure but he'd watch them for a few moment then if they were then he'd approach them. he knew that the family was well know for information and secretes  not this his request would be much of a secret. he would pay the required fees if need be but he hand to know. what was the Valmont family  tree's secret and how did he fit in? there were dragon in his family how were they related to himself? this and much more was on his mind  and his pin glowed slightly in the light of the ball room.

[Boog]

Jeremiah pondered what little he'd seen of things in the ballroom. Elyse had apparently gotten the same bad vibe from the fox that he had. It was pretty obvious she knew something he didn't on this one, judging by how urgent she seemed. The woman had already seemed high-strung, but this was new.
His thoughts drifted back to the fox. He hadn't known the man, wanted to know him, or had anything to do with him in the past, but he'd known his name. He was quite plainly on staff and was playing the host, or at least the most visible host, but why in gods name would someone like that want to know the names of every butler on staff? Dear lord, I hope it's every butler on staff. What if it's just ME?
He fetched his mask out of his vest pocket and slipped it on, a plain white thing that got in the way of his glasses. The frog pocketed them and grumbled to himself slightly as he showed the bat back to the ballroom, where she'd hopefully become someone else's problem.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAheehahoohahahAHAHAHA
Oh shut up.

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura listened carefully and intently to Gareeku's story, unmoving save for her ears which flattened slowly upon the mention of Cerebus' deeds.  She did indeed have good knowledge of the wolf's curse, and would have thought it inevitable that someone would have tried to take advantage of it.  To forever and always seek power and to torture others for it...she hated that kind of person, especially considering it was a part of her own race's reputation.  At least the jackal appeared to be a Being.

"Is he, now?" The healer said as the white wolf finished his explanation, turning to glance back at the path Cerebus had taken for but a moment.  Gareeku was a friend, and she had no reason to disbelieve him.  She spoke her next line in all seriousness.  "I dislike him already.  And despise the knowledge that he had tried to take advantage of you."

The tigress turned back to the adventurer, shaking her head.  "For now I am going to assume that he is as he said; here to amend his invitation to the party.  But rest assured, sir Manoko, I shall help you keep an eye on him."  She smiled slightly.  "Even the kind of power he wields should be knocked down a few paces here."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim gazed after the departing Cubi. "A big bastard? Yes, I suppose you could term him such. Mind you, Rover is fairly large, too - but then, Rover knows who his parents are." Tim turned to look at the visitor, and realised that she wasn't talking about exactly the same thing. "Oh! Oh, my apologies, I was entirely thinking of something else. Where are my manners, please excuse me. The large fellow here," and she waved one paw dexterously at Rover "is known as Rover; he's here as the representative of the Gryphons, whereas I, for my sins, am merely here to assist him where possible. I may be called Tim."

She bowed, briefly, then tilted her head to one side, and cocked an eyebrow inquisitively at her interlocutor. "And you...?"

Behind her, Rover leaned over her, one eye almost resting on her shoulder, peering down at the faint curls of smoke from the cigar. Or possibly just from the dragon, it was hard to tell...

[Azlan]

Kiet cast his eyes downward, "I haven't worn this uniform in quite a long time... the last time... Cyra..."  The ringtail clenched his hands into fists as his headwings and back wings furled out to a more excitable position from their rest states, "no!  I really haven't come here to think about the darkness of old."

He returned the wolf's bow, as Camiole merely nodded, "I am Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo and this is..."

"Camiole TiPaollo... I'm his great, great..."

Kiet smiled happily, "yes, yes..."

Camiole took a deep breath, "...great, great, great, great..."

"Really that's fine dear." Kiet's smile had decreased significantly, showing considerably more sharp teeth.

Still she continued, "great, great, great..."

The ringtail's left eyebrow twitched and he was noticeably struggling to keep smiling, "I think he get's the idea Cam."

"great, great, great, great, great, great uncle."  The clouded leopard took a deep breath, huffing a bit exaggeratedly.

"Ah heh... anyways, Mr. Mithlome, what brings you to this interesting little gathering?  Shall thee be courting favor of the dragoness for knowledge of something thou seeks?"

[Stygian]

Directly in front of Jeremiah, the bat snorted, and behind the close-fitting guise of her mask she allowed her face to lose its composure at last, her brow creasing and her teeth gritting. If the damn fool could just get rid of some preconceptions he'd probably be faster on the uptake...
Returning to the entrance hall, Elyse glared out, the blackness of her corneas turning the little glowing yellow dots at the heart of her eyes into free-floating little candles of piercing, accusing knowledge behind that mask. She tried to relax, tried to cast her mind out for sympathetic thoughts or to 'listen' for suspicion. The problem with the former was that no one seemed to be thinking that something rather than someone was threatening them right there and now, which left her in the dark, and with the latter that everyone seemed suspicious of everyone else, which was to be expected of diplomats and adventurers, and flooded her thoughts until she gave up. You could pick up so much more in a crowd, but at the same time you always got so much background noise.
Elyse almost groaned. She would have to talk to these people...

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace nodded soberly. "Oh yeah," she said quietly, "I know how dangerous even a young 'Cubi can be." In an apparently unconscious gesture, she raised her left hand and stroked the small green feather dangling from her earring on that side. "One o' th' old ones like him... don't y' worry, H'ratio, I'm just as fond as y' are o' keepin' all m' bits in one cuddly piece. I'm in no hurry t' walk up t' him an' tell 'im his mother was a hamster an' his father smelled o' elderberries." The lioness glanced sideways at Horatio, her whiskers twitching, then one eye closed in a slow, deliberate wink.

Andrace took a deep breath and relaxed. "Well, enough o' gloomy ancient history. Looks like th' Big Event's about t' start, are y' on th' clock or can y' stick around f'r a bit longer?" She nodded and cocked an ear towards the crowds milling near the entrance to the ballroom. A flicker of motion caught her eye, and without making it obvious, she glanced towards Ti'Paollo for a moment: the 'Cubi had fluffed up his wings and headwings, and looked annoyed with his bodyguard over something or other. Interestin'... she thought. Promisin'... if these two don't get on well, maybe they'll split up later an' I'll have a chance t' catch him alone. Get th' job done, hide th' body if I can, an' look innocent. An immediate escape might not even be needed, unless she was caught with a mouthful of 'Cubi feathers.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Karazkt, was still in his little cell in his room. From all the vibrations, he could tell that something was definitely going on. There was a massive influx of new vibrations, ones from outside of this 'castle', as well as something big. Karazkt had little doubt that this was indeed the 'Scarlet Masque' that he had been pulled out of his comfortable workshop for. But...
   No one had yet come to get him. How...how could he leave his little cell if no one told him to come down to the Scarlet Masque? He couldn't! He'd fail his Queen and-
   His Queen. I want you to attend this 'Scarlet Masque', as the invitation states. You will go there, you will find out what I want to know, and you will return.
   Resolved. His Queen's command covered this.
   Karazkt used a dash of earth magic to open his cell closing his eyes as it opened, because the regular light would spoil his infravision. Using only his antennae to feel around, he slid himself out out of the cell with no hindrance. He reached back into the cell, opening up one of the two cubbies he had made, pulling out his tool bandolier. He stood up, and pulled the bandolier over himself, taking care to adjust all the straps and buckles neatly. He then reached back into the cell to the second cubby, and pulled out his goggles. He carefully slid them over his antennae and his shiny carapaced head, finally settling them over his eyes, once again making him even more bug-eyed than normal. He opened his eyes again, seeing everything with his infravision perfectly.
   He left the room, heading down to the huge hall where everything seemed to be taking place.

[Cogidubnus]

"Courting the..." Cog tilted his head at Kiet. "Ah. you mean Luna." he grinned, and shook his head. "Yes, she is here. I...ah, have met her before, under some interesting circumstances. I lived with the Icewing clan, at one point. I was...practically dead, you see, but...ah. That's another story." he paused, looking away for a moment. "The far north is...beautiful. In it's own way. But hardly a place I'd like to live."

He smiled at the Cubi. "But I cannot besmirch the hospitality of the inhabitants. I did meet Luna, and I have to say she is a bit overbearing. And I have nothing to ask the Queen of the Dragons that I do not already know. I am here, of course, because I was invited. And the food, sir, is not half bad." he smiled wolfishly again.

At that moment, a resounding clap echoed through the chamber. The conversational murmur of masked faces ceased, and everyone looked at the fox standing in front of the two large, ornate wooden doors opposite of the entranceway. He rubbed his gloved hands together for a moment, looking to and fro across the crowd. A giant grin was plastered across his face.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" he said, his voice carrying through the entire antechamber. There was a touch of magic in the way the sound carried, perfectly audible in every corner of the room. "It is with pride that I announce the formal beginning of festivities." he beamed at each and every one of them. "If you do not have your mask on, now is the time."
A few shuffles from the audience responded.

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, and bowed deeply to the audience, his arms folded formally. "We welcome you to the Scarlet Masque."

* * *

The doors opened inwards, pulled by hidden attendants.

Gray stone gave way to a floor of polished marble, pure white with veins of gold running through, that stretched on and on until it reached the furthermost ends of the room. The room itself was massive, easily large enough for the partygoers to play a rousing game of soccer, if they so chose, but the size of the room, or even the decor, was hardly the first thing that drew one's attention.
From the ground to the third-story ceiling, the far wall was made of glass.

The ballroom extended past the stone walls of the castle, the glass making up fully half of the room. It extended straight up until it reached the third story, at which the panes tilted at a forty-five degree angle until the met the ceiling of the room. Three stories of mezzanines wrapped around the more solid walls of the ballroom until they reached the very top of the castle, and on the third story, through some trick of magic or craft, they extended even into the glass portion of the room. At the far end, you could even touch the glass that reached for the ceiling, and watch the snow dust off the panes. Through some trick of magic, not even one of them was rendered opaque by the snowfall outside.
The magic had the effect of not only preventing the glass from collapsing from the weight of the snow, but also giving a spectacular view. The moon, high, full, and somehow red this evening, hung silently in the sky. The snow from outside fell softly, swirling across the panes with the wind. Looking out from the room, was like looking over the top of a hill - the forest, the one that was nearly unbroken for hundreds of miles, falling gently down the slope into the valley below. The marble floors rose up two steps before reaching the end of the walls and extending into the glass partition of the room, separating the rest of the room from the dancing floor, where the partygoers would dance under the full moon and starts, and amidst the swirling snow.

Tables covered the edges of the first floor, and the two mezzanines. On the right wall, however, the marble floor rose up into the main staircase to the second floor mezzanine. There was a covered picture at the top of the stairs. Half of the third floor was dedicated to the orchestra. They played the strings softly, waiting for people to filter in before beginning with waltzes and other dances.

The strings warbled gently, and the snow softly fell.

* * *

At the unveiling of the ballroom, Horatio instead chose to say nothing, and simply offered a smile and and arm to the waiting lioness. His emerald eyes were surely gleaming.

* * *

Brunhilda was one of those people that could manage to be crass under almost any circumstance. "Yeah, I got the feeling you drew the short straw when the buildings starting falling." she grinned at the little gryphon, and attempted to take another draw of her cigar. She coughed, and gave the now-unlit end a nasty look.

She noticed the big guy staring at her, and walked right under his nose while she relit the offending source of nicotine. Breathing fire doesn't come easily to ice dragons, and she coughed once before puffing on the smoking brand once more. "Ain't that right, big guy?" she said, giving the gryphon's foremost leg a playful punch. "Ah, e's just a big softy. My names Brunhilda. I'm the head of security for the Icewings here. When I'm in a good mood." she showed some fangs, a bit of smoke filtering through. "When I'm in a bad mood, my job is to beat people up."

"Anyway, just wanted t'say hi t'ya..." she leaned back, and snapped her fingers. "Fancy clothes, right. Always forget." she mumbled. She paused to twist a ring on her left hand upside down.
And a moment later was wearing an armored helmet, sloping like a beak, a flowing blue skirt (despite the difficulty of finding a flowing skirt for one so short), and a buffed and shiny and impressively proportional metal breastplate, complete with a motif of wings on the back. A warhammer over one shoulder completed the ensemble.

"Me mother's wedding dress, y'like?" she grinned at the two, patting Tim on the head, and started marching off towards the ballroom. "Don't get into any trouble, nao..."

  * * *

One or two people screamed at Karazkt, but seemed to get over it rather quickly. He'd have asked them what they were trying to say - he hadn't heard such vibrations before from surfacers - but they'd run away too quickly for him to inquire any further.

In any case, it did appear that the ball was under way. For some reason the surfacer love-hate relationship with the sky was heavily present in that room, with giant clear glass covering nearly half of it, and the other half opaque and looking like the inside of a goldworm's stomach.

"They will all kill you."

Karazkt felt, rather than heard, the message coming from the floor quite clearly, in nuanced vibrations through the floor. "Kill them before they kill you. Quickly! You have little time!"

* * *

Elyse felt someone tap her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am" She was standing on the stairway, and there was likely someone behind her needing to get past. She was about to mumble an apology as she turned around, stepping down and out of the way, when she noticed it was a white dragon in a black suit that had tapped her on the shoulder. She looked higher up the stairs.

The Queen of Dragons looked at her coolly beneath a mask of frozen fire. It writhed, as though trapped in a prison of glass or crystal, but nothing but magic kept it in place, sculpted with twists and flourishes around the ancient dragon's face like molten gold. Jewelry that glowed with an inner fire decorated her figure too, silver chains and loops of gold holding garnets and spinel that practically seethed in their sockets. Her dress - red as a winter flower - accented her slightly yellowish figure, making her look like a flame herself. She walked by the vampire bat with nary a word, nor another glance.

She did, however, smile as she walked into the ballroom, the crowd parting for her.

* * *

As Aten stomped through the castle, intent on finding the ballroom, he noticed a strange lady in a steel breastplate waving at him. He was about to wave back, when her smile evaporated, and with eyes narrowed and holding two fingers in the air, indicated that her eyes were watching him quite intently. She wandered off somewhere not too much later.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

When Brunhilda punched him on the leg, Rover responded by bending down and nuzzling at her. Tim grinned. "Yeah, he's just a big softy." She sighed. "Who happens to knock down buildings by accident. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you."

At the dress, Tim raised one eyebrow. At least three different comments ran through her mind about being married in a helmet, but she manfully - so to speak - resisted the urge to speak her mind, or to make any comments about shotgun weddings, either. "I trust it looked as good on her as it does on you, yes."

Rover gazed after the retreating dragon's armoured back, then glanced down at Tim, and nudged her. "Friend?" he enquired.

Tim blinked, and looked up at her charge. "Huh? Oh." She flicked a quick peek after Brunhilda. "I'm really not sure, boy. I think she's busy working, anyway." She thought for a moment, then suggested "I'll tell you what, I'll try to ask her about it later, okay?"


At about that point, the Master of Ceremonies announced the commencement of the festivities, and the doors opened. The two of them drifted in that direction, Tim slightly in the lead, until they entered the ballroom. At which point, Tim stopped dead with a gasp, then glided forwards to the window as if pulled by a string, her gaze locked on the magnificent view. "My, my, my. Isn't this just fine..." She arched her head back, sat down, and spread her wings, luxuriating in the sense of space given by the massive windows. Behind her, overshadowing her, Rover did much the same, only much more impressively, then folded back up and grinned down at her back.
Leaving her enjoying the view, he silently padded off around the edge of the ballroom, peeking over the third floor at the orchestra, then slipping between the tables on the mezzanine, somehow, in a manoeuvre that would have made Mauritz Cornelius quietly applaud, then go looking for some aspirin.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace's ears twitched towards the doors at the announcement. Her eyes widened behind her shiny lavender mask as she took in the sumptuous glass and marble vista of the ballroom. Part of her mind stayed on business, though, and she quickly began to analyse the layout, looking for anything that might give her an advantage, either in an attack on the 'Cubi, or in surviving the attack and escaping afterwards. Some exploration was definitely called for, but later. For the moment...

The lioness smiled at Horatio, and with a swish of her tail, looped her arm around his and stepped forward, joining the crowd of guests beginning to pass through the doors and into the huge ballroom.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel adjusted her mask, a rather mundane frippery of satin, crystal, and feathers compared to the caged flame Luna wore, and followed a few steps behind her grandmother. Really it was the best spot to make a quiet entrance since most everyone would be watching the matriarch's arrival. Grandmother tended to make an impact everywhere she went. Luckily today that didn't mean a crater 12 foot deep into bedrock. The short train on her gown rustled against the marble as she strolled to a point where she could enjoy a panoramic view of the of the stars and snow. She wondered if her grandmother had arranged the snow to make the night more pleasant.

Taking her fill of the view she started assessing the other invitees. It was a much more diverse crowd than in years past. Downright eccentric in fact. But the gryphon was adorable all gussied up with a bow on his tail.

[Stygian]

A chilly void. Elyse almost staggered, yet fortunately enough had the presence to catch herself and glide away smoothly, her yellow augers for eyes following the dragoness fixedly in their dark spaces behind the mask. The creature's masked presence was a smooth, slick nothingness to all of her senses but her sigh. She practically radiated power. The bat found herself somewhat in awe for a moment. Not that the sight of the ballroom itself was not breathtaking as well, but for someone who had walked in procession through some of the greatest cathedrals and halls in the world as known, the element of size plainly lost its ability to inspire. And she herself was not so staggeringly interested in architecture. Still, the scenery was striking...
There was one thing that was worrying her though. The fox was back, which was cause for concern in itself, but the Lynx - what was her name again? Mesme? - had not yet returned.
Taking a few, slow steps, walking the stairs contemplatively, the bat followed along with the stream of people. Her face a tense expression of painful concentration behind her mask, she looked around... and listened. Somewhere...

At the corner of the stairs, a single man stood, the only one who hadn't put on a mask yet. Dressed in uniform, almost uninterrupted smooth black and still, he drew no attention, as he observed the passing crowd, blending in without actually putting any effort into it through sheer force of calm, unperturbed implacability. He spotted something in the crowd with a glance, grinned, and then reached behind him. A mask, the half to the right of it a red-lacquered smiling face of impassionate perfection, the other half to the left a twisted, bestial snarl, expansive, snaking points out to its side, slid onto the man's pale face. He walked forward, and blended into the crowd.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Karazkt proceeded into the hallway when it opened. He noticed that several surfacers emitted unusual bursts of sound he hadn't heard before, right before they went off somewhere else. Curious.
   Even with his goggles and infravision, he also saw the way the hall was constructed, with the opposite end made of a transparent material, allowing a view of the sky. Strange how surfacers sequestered themselves from 'outside', and yet wanted to see it.
   As he stood around, unsure of what to do, he suddenly felt subtle, rhythmic vibrations in the floor, yet clear and distinct enough that he sensed it through the chaos of the people around him. He instantly recognized the rhythm; Insectis tapcode, used for distance communication though the crust of Furrae.
   Karazkt immediately dropped down to one 'knee', and pressed both antennae against the ground. They picked up the vibrations properly, and was able to discern the message.
   "They will all kill you. Kill them before they kill you. Quickly! You have little time!"
   Karazkt, for a moment, was at a loss to react. This was about the most irregular thing he had ever experienced. It was genuine tapcode, yes, and clearly meant for Karazkt, yes, but it completely ignored all the proper protocols of communication. And who could possibly be trying to communicate with him? The nearest Hive-City was more than a day away. His was further days away still.
   Karazkt also noticed that, for some reason, it seemed as if none of the surfacers noticed the message, which, by all rights, they should (or so Karazkt thought). Plus, he didn't smell any pheromones of aggression off of any of them (though of course, little did Karazkt know that surfacers didn't put off any detectable pheromones). How very odd.
   Finally, Karazkt responded. He accessed a little earth magic, and put it into the tips of all six of his fingers (three on both hands). He put his fingertips on the stone floor, and tapped a short message. As each magic-tipped finger struck the floor, a small, focused pulse was made, and Karazkt pointed them in the direction the message had came from. Each fingertip had a different 'frequency' of earth magic, making each finger put out a distinct pulse, which was necessary to replicate the nuances of the Insectis language. Though every Insectis above the Labor-Class castes in all the Hives could produce and understand standardized tapcode, Karazkt was only adequate at it, as it was the Insectis in the Communicator-Class castes who were the most adept at tapcode, could produce Hive-specific encryption, and had the longest sensing and sending ranges.
   Karazkt's message, basically, read as "Identify your Hive, please".

[Boog]

Jeremiah felt the dragon's presence before he saw them; an amphibian's sensitivity to the cold could be a boon in a room full of ice dragons, even if the weather left him sluggish half the time. He couldn't help but stare a little. The Queen of Dragons herself. Now, Jeremiah didn't like creatures much (and, when pressed as to why, he'd bring up a number of social and political points that were rather hard to fault him for being sore about), and the idea of nobility always struck him as a contest of whose grandaddy was a bigger murdering bastard than the other guy's grandaddy, but the dragoness' appearance struck him right in that little corner of his soul where the part of him that was still an artist hid when it wasn't in use. The woman, it had to be said, would probably be the ideal subject for a work of art. In fact, he was almost certain he'd seen a painting or two of her in his time, but that wasn't unlikely anyway. The finery helped, yes, but overall it was her poise. She didn't walk around like she owned the place so much as she was thinking of buying it and wanted to make a good impression on the current tenants.
No wonder folks figure she's the host.
The frog snapped out of it and looked around. Elyse still looked out of it, so this looked like a MARVELOUS opportunity to get away from the crazy lady at about half past now. Besides, he was supposed to be bringing around little snacks and whatnot. He started making his way over to the kitchens, relishing his condition's lack of anything to say for the time being.

[Azlan]

Kiet nodded to Cogidubnus, "then we share something in common, I do not have business here.  Though, I think mother has some reason to have sent me in her stead."

As the doors opened, he offered his arm to Camiole in a gesture meant to satisfy royal protocol.  She took the offering and both entered amid the other guests.

He was momentarily taken aback by the splendor of the hall.  Very few times has he been treated to such magnificence in his time.  It spoke volumes to the wealth that had been accumulated and it brought even his bouts of excess throughout the ages into perspective.

"I really should have conquered a kingdom or two back then, Xe'Pherion is nice and all, but things like this almost make me want one of my own... almost."  Stated the ringtail with a sardonic hint to his tone.

Kiet gravitated towards the center, relieving a servant of a pair of glasses containing wine as he went.  He stopped and surveyed those around him. 

He was approached by a rather portly canine being in the splendor of a uniform resembling that of the Kaiser himself, "ah, you sir have the bearing of one whom has seen a campaign or two."

"Ah, Duke Hargrave of Astlund... how are you this eve?"  Kiet responded without blinking, taking the dog's hand firmly.

The Duke laughted heartily, "ah, so you know of me?  Capital!  Though I fear you have me at a disadvantage."

"Indeed."  Kiet smiled mischievously for a moment, "I am Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo."

"Well met.  I do hope this night proves interesting." 

[Yugo]

Esme frowned as she cradled the burnished silver ring in her fingers, fidgeting with it as the now distant memory faded. She had accepted, of course. What else was she to do? The Belgaen government could never pony up with such money; the organization had to rely mainly on donations, and with permanent outside funding, the Corps could finally feed and clothe all of the refugees without drawing money away from their medical services, perhaps even expand its staff to a level where it could actually deal with as many patients as it needed to. It was an impossibly valuable offer, which was what bothered Esme the most. Give this ringtail the ring? The task could not have been more simple, but still, a million questions ran through her mind. Was it some kind of mark for assassination, or a similar symbol? She had heard of criminal organizations leaving such calling cards, but never something like this. Sighing, she crumpled up her hand, uttered a strange string of syllables, and the ring dissapeared.

Still glowering quite uncharacteristically, Esme maneuvered through the endless throng of assistants, dignitaries, diplomats, and attendants as she made her way through the extravagantly decorated hallways, her former awe at them lost within her confusion and puzzlement. With every one she passed, she shivered slightly. It was not out of fear; there was little chance of being attacked in the open in a place like this. Among the class of the ruling elite, however, she felt as if she was being physically and socially inspected at every moment in a way that went beyond mere judgement, and it was an anomaly to her. Amidst the lower classes and peasants, there was an unspoken air of politeness and amiability. She could have possessed three heads and it would have never even been hinted at in a conversation as if they did not even exist. Here, in this madhouse of aristocrats, such courtesy was merely pretense.

Although Esme had been in a few of the churches and temples in Belgae, as they were often used as staging points in medical emergencies, such glorious architecture never ceased to amaze her. She brushed one foot against the marble floor absently, attempting to fathom the monumental cost of such a wonderfully beautiful surface. The floor, however, was merely a prelude to the rest of the room, and her gaze slowly pulled up the spectacular thirty foot wall of impossibly clear glass that provided an impeccable view the full moon outside. No mere architect had accomplished such a feat; this was the work of skill and artistry that could have only belonged to a mage. Esme stared dumbly at it for several moments before the bump of a nearby body broke her from her astonished rapture. Blinking, she shook away the image and set to the task she had assigned herself: find the white-winged bat, Elyse. Perhaps she would be able to glean some information about her situation from her only associate at the Ball.

[Aisha deCabre]

Before the doors had opened into the ballroom, Rynkura had kept her eyes on their surroundings.  Cerebus had seemed to disappear into the crowd, but more than likely it hadn't stopped the fact that Gareeku was still on edge for his presence.  The edge of the angel's wings quivered just slightly to remove the ruffled feeling she got at the thought of hearing what he'd done.  But she had promised the wolf that she'd help keep an eye out...and that, she did.

Soon enough, the attention of the crowd was caught.  At the head of the antechamber stood the vulpine from before, ever so dramatic as the occasion required, announcing the start of the Ball.  And when the grand doors opened almost as if from their own volition (from her point of view), even the tigress had to widen her eyes in awe.

The room was massive.  It probably would have had to be, due to the great amount of guests there to dance away the night.  The glass that made up half of the place was a marvel of architecture, though as a connoisseur of many things magic Rynkura suspected that little enchantments of sorts were there to help with the effect.  The moon gave the snow outside a small shine, accentuating it.

One of the things that caught the guests' attention was the sight of an elegant ice dragon queen, around whom, even the very air seemed to bow to her whim.  Another, certainly, was the giant gryphon that Rynkura recognized as Rover.  He looked as good as such a creature would at these sorts of events.

"My gods," the Healer chuckled at the sight, standing in the edge of the doorway when the way was just clear enough of visitors.  "Though this is not her kind of thing, Aisha will have to hear about all of this."

When the way was clear, she turned back to Gareeku with a smile.  "I suppose it is time to simply enjoy ourselves...with the strange things we have encountered it should have to be worthwhile."  The white tiger gestured with a courtly air to the ballroom.  "Shall we, then?"

[e_voyager]

Dispite the warmth and beauty of the ballroom Aten shivered. what was that about?  he wondered. why did that guard single him out to get his attention then indicate she would be watching him?  this wasn't good or was it? they few people he recognized seemed to be busy among themselves with other concerns and he was still uneasy about approaching the Icewing matriarch. she hand and aura about her that radiated power bunt not patience.  how would he even approach her? perhaps but putting himself in her path ever so slightly or  by approaching her granddaughter after paying his respects to the head of the family.

Looking her over he saw her again almost as if for the first time. He could not guess her age nor would he want to but he could see a beauty that he could comment on especially the way she carried herself so that she radiated a presence that commanded respect of her power and social standing. She was an utter lady but not one easily approached. what was it that the wolf had said? Something about Luna causing trouble again? The book had told him that Luna was not some moon goddess but Mel's grandmother. Perhaps he could use that as well as what he learned from the book it'self .  He could say he was pleased to meet her, true enough., and had he not met her grand daughter early he'd believe he was in the presence of a goddess come to Furea? not that was too blatant. he need to be more subtle and sincere in his wording.  behind his mask his brow wrinkled slightly. Power beauty and wisdom. a combination that was hard to describe and worthy of prising as any goddess would be.

[Stygian]

Esme was just able to turn before she bumped into someone again. It was strange, since it really hadn't seemed as if someone were there the moment before. Her eyes meeting dark, glossy cloth at first, she was faced with a slightly intimidating mask of red and black once she looked up. She couldn't see the eyes behind the dark openings for eyes. She felt a hand on the side of her shoulder, barely brushing it.
   'I said, I apologize, miss,' a murky voice spoke from behind the mask. It sounded oddly unobstructed for coming from behind a heavy one-piece like that. 'You look a little bewildered. Is everything alright?'

[Gareeku]

"You'd think so, wouldn't you..." Gareeku muttered in response to Rynkura's comment about how Cerebus' talents would be knocked down a few pegs at the ball. Gareeku also knew, however, that Cerebus didn't need to be the most powerful person there, considering that he was very clever and devious. "You would be surprised..."

It was then, however, that the doors opened to reveal the main ballroom. Although the wolf's facial expression did not show it, he was certainly impressed by the grandeur and beauty of the ballroom. Listening to Rynkura, Gareeku nodded and took her arm, entering the ballroon with her. In the back of his mind, however, Gareeku wondered where Cerebus was, having not seen him since his little introduction.

[Yugo]

I really need to learn to watch where I'm going, Esme thought with an intense frown, brushing off the front her dress as she rolled back up to gaze at the masked man before her. The impersonality of his appearance and voice was both intimidating and offsetting, and presented an anonymous appearance that did not match the geniality of his muffled voice. The physical contact made her pull away involuntarily; something about the obscurity with which this man exhibited himself was deeply and instinctively disturbing within her. "I...yes, I'm fine, it's quite alright," Esme mumbled, not quite willing to break the air of politeness that surrounded her on a simple and foolish hunch. "I'm just looking for somebody." Much to her dismay, the "somebody" that Esme was so earnestly searching for was certainly nowhere to be found.

This visit was rapidly becoming painfully frustrating. Quite stupidly, in her opinion, she had agreed to a deal with which she had no real familiarity with, and was too outwardly benign for her comfort. She most certainly did not fit in with the social and economic elite that surrounded her; she was a simple field medic and adminstrator, sequestered from the greater plots and schemes that came and went within Belgae and the surrounding kingdoms. I barely know the woman, and here I am searching for her like a lost, sick puppy.

[Cogidubnus]

 The upper class are many things - bloodless, some say, without heart or soul for any but themselves and their money. Stupid, incompetent, archaic and parasitic, others might contend. Some would go so far as to say the ills of society lay clearly upon their shoulders, a leaden weight in the march of progress. None, however, could say that they were timid.

And yet, some things remain the same - no one wants to be the first to dance.

People milled about in the sitting area, laden with not enough food and not enough drink and absently looking at the ballroom floor as the rest of their compatriots filled into the room. A sea of masked faces, a veritable rainbow of dresses and suits and strange-sounding conversation, muted from behind plastic, paper, plaster and metal masks.
The vague tension in the air remained.

* * *

It was broken a moment later, however, as the diminutive Gryphon B and her companion climbed the steps to the upper floor to gaze out the massive windows. With her back to the crowd, it was quite impossible to notice them staring at her and her quite undiminuative partner, especially after the latter spread his wings - to the sound more than a few "Aaahs" - before he folded up and began looking around the room.

A few more oohs and aahs followed as Rover maneuvered his way through the room, the giant somehow not sending tables and people alike flying. His successful navigation of the third floor earned him a round of applause - and laughter - the graceful twists and turns reminiscent of careful dancing.

A man in white stepped up to the floor, offering a hand to a lady in red, and the ice was broken. The band started with a waltz. A cacophony of colors swirled on the floor, reds and golds and greens and yellows, beneath the snow and moon.

* * *

For wait staff, of course, this was the busy season.

Before he could contemplate going to go fetch his easel, paint and afro wig, he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. He turned around to see his favorite manager, the Badger, again.
"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Get to the kitchen! Make with the bringing of trays!" He was flipped around and pushed towards the far left door on the side of the ballroom. "Hurry, dammit!"

Through the door, the hallway he was pushed into, for being one of the main alleys into the kitchen, was strangely empty. One might suppose this was the cause of the badger's irateness. A little ways down the hall, and a flight of stairs later, and he found himself in the kitchen.
It did not entirely look like he remembered it being. For one, the severed head on the stove, currently boiling, hadn't been there the last time. He noticed that most of the teeth were missing, and the ones that weren't were crushed to pulp, like someone had taken a pair of pliers and pulled too hard. The stench of burning blood wafted through the room nauseatingly.

The pink frog - the one who had given him coffee - was hunched over something by the counter. There was blood on her hands, and she was humming softly to herself, like she was folding laundry or making coffee. She didn't appear to have noticed him yet.

* * *

Gareeku noticed Cerebus sitting quite nicely by himself on the second story. Their eyes met for a moment, just long enough for Gar to see him smirk.
"Can I get anything for the lady and the gentleman?"

Gar and Ryn turned to see a badger in a black suit - the bowtie and shiny shoes a sure sign he was staff - wringing his hands in front of them. He seemed nervous, if only marginally annoying.

* * *

Karazkt felt more vibrations through the floor, but they were simply nonsense, random fluctuations and tremors. As though there was something in the way - a sudden unmarked change in the density of the ground, a tectonic shift or an aquifer flooding out of a now-void cavern.
The strange ones were now staring at him. Perhaps he sound stand?

* * *

"Nice place, hmm?" Horatio murmured, speaking of the room. The view of the outside, let alone the sky, was gorgeous. "It's a lot better than Castle Icewing. The place may be made of ice, but once you've seen one snowdrift, you've seen them all." he grinned. He removed his arm from Andrace's, and instead grabbed her hand, making a not-quite-mocking bow.
"I'm on duty, but I'm supposed to mingle. Might I ask the lady to dance?"

* * *

LL paused briefly to watch Rover's antics - she grinned widely, fangs sparkling - and them proceeded to climb the stairs to the second level, where there were yet more tables and staff already waiting.
She paused in front of the large, covered painting, blinking briefly before continuing.

"My lady, a moment of your time..."

* * *

From what Aten could tell, people started approaching the great dragon without screening, and she already had a small crowd gathered around her - not as though she was mobbed, but a definite group of people standing a respectful distance away, waiting their turn. Perhaps he could simply approach her?

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim continued to gaze out of the window, entranced by the view, mostly unaware of anything else.


Rover, for his part, edged between the tables, and padded silently around into a slightly shadowed corner where he could look out over the floor - an achievement in itself, given the well-lit nature of the room. Seating himself there, he gazed around, unmoving save for the eyes, looking for all the world like some of the architecture. Half in the shadow, half in the light, he filtered through the crowd, identifying the various dancers and dancees, players in the grand game.

When he spotted the ringtail in the fancy costume, shiny bits on the chest, and the ringtail's compatriot, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the tip of his tail started twitching back and forth, just a bit. For the moment, however, he was content to watch, keeping an eye on the two of them.

After all, there was someone else with them. It'd be rude to interrupt.

Not to mention easier.

[Gareeku]

As he and Rynkura made their way further into the ballroom, Gareeku looked around and observed the guests that were present. Looking at one of them in particular, one of the dragon nobility standing somewhat away from the others, something in him told him that he had met her before. The way she stood, her demeanour, reminded him of a feline he had met a few years ago. Admittedly it hadn't been the best of starts, having been essentially kidnapped for the ransom placed on his head, but after that sorry mess had sorted itself out (as in dealing with the one responsible for placing the bounty on his head in the first place), he had come to respect the feline, both as an ally, and then as a friend. But then Mel was a feline, and this lady was obviously a dragon, but even so, this was Furrae...

Choosing to look away, largely out of not wanting to be accused of staring, Gareeku turned to Rynkura.
"All this nobility present...I feel as if I am intruding..." the wolf muttered, his voice with a somewhat serious tone, though Rynkura knew him well enough by now to know that he was in fact joking.

It was then, however, that he eyes fell upon the people gathered on the second storey, one of them in particular; Cerebus. It was apparent that the jackal had noticed him as well, staring right back at the wolf before a smirk made itself present. Scowling somewhat, the wolf was then interrupted by a voice addressing him and Rynkura. Looking to see, Gareeku saw that the voice belonged to what looked like a member of staff; a badger, sharply dressed and looking to take any possible orders for drinks.

"Oh...yes...I'd like a glass of your finest white wine, if possible." Gareeku answered to the badger's question, being taken somewhat offguard at first but then quickly recovering, before turning to Rynkura with a smirk. "Well...I suppose if I am to be invited to an occasion for nobility, then I should drink like nobility too..."

[Aisha deCabre]

The interior of the ballroom was amazing, to say the least...made quite more so by the presence of dragons and what surely had to be the party's biggest guest, Rover...surprisingly behaving himself rather well in the situation.  The other guests had seemed to think so of him, taking their moments to watch in awe before returning to the festivities.

Glancing back to Gareeku as he joked about feeling like an intruder, Rynkura chuckled.  "You?  I've probably forgotten about which spoon to eat with more than anyone, myself."  She smiled.  "But at least we all certainly look the part...hopefully that is enough for whomever is holding this affair..."

Her voice trailed off when she briefly followed the wolf's gaze upwards.  There standing above the guests on the second floor was Cerebus, having returned as mysteriously as he had left.  The healer had only to hope that the smirk he was wearing wasn't a foreshadow of anything to come.  The thoughts were only interrupted again at the arrival of a waiter, a badger carrying an air of nervous energy, much to her curiosity.

Nevertheless, she too quickly regained her composure in front of the staff member as Gareeku ordered his drink.  A small grin played out on the angel's face at his remark.  "A very good way to make the best of a situation, my young friend."  To the badger, she replied with a polite smile, "A glass of red wine for me, if you will please."

[Boog]

Jeremiah, it had been mentioned before, was an artist, and thus had one's attention span. He was in a kitchen, where by some strange arcane process raw materials were somehow transformed into food. Thus it would take him at least another paragraph before he would notice what was (aha) staring him right in the face. The smell, he assumed, was some other vile rich-person food, although it DID seem familiar...
"Oi, Sharon, stripes sent me down to pick up some canapes and wine. Where are- Oh christ, Sharon, did you cut your hand?" It was after he'd scampered over in concern, however, that he noticed the head with a stifled "Nngk!"
Allow the narrator to speak, for a moment, on faces.
Faces are very important to people. They're our primary method of telling one another apart, the part of ourselves we identify the concept of "self" with the most, and are often used as a basis for immediate judgements on one another when first meeting. The slant of one's smile, the light in one's eyes, the definition of one's cheekbones, we even have special centers of the brain dedicated to reading and identifying faces beyond "yep, that's a face." These instincts, kicking in when looking at a face in a state of mutilation, have a tendency to send important little mechanisms in the mind into error messages.
Lets see, a deer, knew a few deers back home. Nice folks, good traditions. Overall very open, honest features. Hygiene's kinda poor though, with all those strips hanging off OHGODDON'TLOOK right, strong jawline. He a local? Lots of local boys seem to have that. Probably can't be a day over sixteen, although he had the beginnings of a beard coming in and how mouth makes him look DON'TLOOKJESUSCHRIST moving on, the short hair... Probably a military brat, I'd bet. And his eyes OHGODDON'TLOOKDON'TLOOKDON'TLOOK-!
And elsewhere, only slightly deeper than his conscious mind, someone said And I'd like the records to show that I fucking CALLED IT.
Jeremiah started backing away from Sharon, releasing the shoulder he'd clutched in concern...

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel trailed slowly through the wake of people displaced by her grandmother. The crowd swirled and eddied behind the matriarch causing rather strange groupings. Two kings on opposite sides of a spat ended up face to face, causing a bit of a bluster; a barbarian usurper bumped into a little nun of a passivist sect, eliciting a sermon. The theater diva and the paparazzi was good for a chuckle though. Then Mel almost tripped over an insectus laying on the floor. "Grandmother likes a good grovel as much as anyone, but she has passed by now. You should get up before you are trod upon." Having imparted this advice the younger dragon glided to the refreshment table. She picked up a glass of champagne but avoided the canapes. They smelled off. Grandmother would probably have words with someone over that later.