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

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace broke off from her tactical analysis of the possibilities of tossing someone off the top-floor balcony (and the merits of stabbing them through the gizzard first), and perked her ears and whiskers as she turned back to Horatio. "Y' might indeed," she said with a smile, "an' if y' did, th' lady might say yes." She walked forward to the edge of the dance floor as it began to fill, snuggled herself against the fox, draped her free arm over his shoulder and set out onto the floor.

Horatio quickly discovered that the lioness was a good dancer, her natural feline agility helping her out here. Her bare paws made almost no sound as she moved, only the occasional tick of her claws on the smooth marble sounding over the quiet rustling of her dress. Her eyes were constantly in motion, though, as she stepped and turned through the stately measures of the waltz. The 'Cubi Ti'Paollo was over there, the Icewing matriarch was upstairs there, surrounded by petitioners, and the monster Gryphon... somehow she'd lost track of the Gryphon. Ah well, he'd turn up. For the moment, she settled into enjoying the dance, purring quietly, her tail swishing in time to the music.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Karazkt heard a surfacer speak directly to him, and replied before she walked away. "I waz KommuniKaTing with another InzeKTiz...I thinK..." something had happened, the "Insectis" he was talking to seemed to have vanished, as if something geological had been interposed between them. However, it hardly mattered int he slightest to him. Not only did the message/suggestion/command not make any sense at all, but the Hive and rank weren't even identified. That and Karazkt picked up no pheremones of agression from any of the surfacers around him (although he didn't realize that surfacers, in fact, didn't put off any pheremones that he could detetct most of the time). Considering the circumstances, the whole thing pretty much went in one antenna and out the other for him.
   Karazkt stood up (only barely noticing that some surfacers were staring at him, he merely stared back with his super-bug-eye-goggled face), and his thoughts then returned to his mission from his Queen. Attend the Scarlet Masque, and find out the who, how, and why of the message that invited karazkt in the first place. Karazkt was about to take a step forward when he realized; he didn't have much of an idea of how to do that. Thinking for a moment, however did help. Whoever organized the Masque would know. The only ones who ever organize such events within a Hive were always either the Queens or one of their direct Royal children. So, find the Queen of this Hive, and request audience.
   Now, how to do that?

[e_voyager]

Aten approached the supplicants to the Lady Icewing as he neared the crowd he saw Mel warning a groveling supplicant not to be stepped on as her house leader had already moved on. Moving on herself he saw her pick up a glass of champagne and thought to himself that it would be shameful not to at least greet and old acquaintance before proceeding to business. Approaching with n a few feet he spoke knowing that here grandmother would be easy enough to find when he was done greeting her grand daughter. "Good evening miss Melodie. it is good to see you again."

[Stygian]

Somehow, the lynx wasn't able to rid herself of that masked figure's presence. She hadn't drunk much, that she was aware of. But things still seemed fuzzy for a moment when she turned, and she couldn't quite recollect how she found herself with his hand on her back next, almost around her waist, as he walked her up toward the center of the ballroom.
   'No, you are looking for somebody's perspective,' the man said in a whispering tone. It seemed strangely clear to Esme, amid all the bustling and talking, in spite of the mask. 'But they don't have it either. Soon, no one will.' The man's voice deepened as he spoke, taking on a hint of loathing somewhere deep down. He seemed to be surveying the dance floor, though there was still not even a hint of a gaze within the empty eyes of that mask. That upsetting, stomach-turning feeling was growing stronger, yet it seemed to be that feeling itself which compelled her to move along, even though she wanted nothing more at the moment than to hurry away to the other side of the room.
   'There is no reason. It's all a masquerade, after all. Charicatures and furies, but the more you refuse to play...' The irresistable presence that had been pushing her on suddenly stopped, and that mask turned toward her again. Those emptinesses seemed to draw her in.
   'Do as you want with the ring. But it's better to decide quickly, and not to expect, or to do the expected yourself. Tell her that, when...'
   He stopped, and looked over Esme's shoulder, daring her to turn her gaze in the same direction. Someone had called out the lynx's name.

   'There you are!' Elyse said, speaking in a more hushed tone this time, hurrying up behind Esme with rather less composure than what would have been deemed appropriate for the surroundings, but calming herself quickly once she was sure the woman had noticed her. She had half expected not to find her at all. Or that there would be something wrong with...
   The bat stopped herself before she spoke, staring at the lynx for a moment. Something nagged at the back of her mind. Things seemed so silent all of a sudden, and she had a distinct impression that someone was... sneering at her, though she couldn't tell why. She looked around, but found no one paying attention to her or Esme in particular.
   'Is everything okay?' she asked, frowning slightly as she returned her gaze to the lynx.

In the shadow beside Rover, a figure like a metal rod wrapped in black sipped wine, the movements of its masked face synchroneous with those of the gryphon beside it, though none could see its eyes. How it managed to pour wine into its mouth through the mask was anybody's guess. After a while, it reached out and patted the huge creature's side, stroking it fearlessly.
   'Just a little while longer, big guy,' it muttered, a hint of amusement in its voice. 'A little on edge because you have no one to dance with, hm?'

[Sunblink]

Elizabeth was beside herself with frustration. Without anything but a vague description of the location of this elusive item and some other, ambiguous hints, finding what she was looking for was going to be impossible. In a paroxysm of irritation, she deftly snatched a garlic roll from its decorative basket from off a nearby table and bit into it, chewing furiously, even though she wasn't supposed to eat and she didn't even like garlic rolls. Still munching on her impromptu snack, Elizabeth stormed off to the side, leaning against the wall. This seemed like a good opportunity to contemplate her next course of action, if she could.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

The fur where the dark figure had touched ruffled up. One huge eyeball rolled around and focused on the dark figure. And a deep, heavy, rumbling growl started up, somewhere buried in the huge chest. Not threatening. Not yet.

But it hinted, strongly, that threats would be forthcoming if more liberties were taken.

[Stygian]

In a manner so nonchalant of the impending threat of several tons of beaked and clawed and feathered mauling coming down on him as to be puzzling, perhaps even irritating, the figure merely looked forward. He hummed under his breath, and then gave a couple of hard pats to the gryphon's side, before folding his arms over his chest, keeping on watching the room.
   'Oh, don't be that way,' the mask uttered, a distinct tone of bemusement in its voice. 'You still need your little friend, don't you?' It turned slightly to face Rover, and somewhere down within the darkness of darkness behind that mask, the gryphon's vision caught sight of a tiny, gleaming point of horrid red, a vague and distant mote of something instinctively frightening, but one so full of possibilities and the promise of horror that it only made it worse. He was too close to Tim for any sort of comfort...
   It is widely taken for a fact that all cats and dogs and such creatures with heightened senses relative to those of 'sapient' species can sense ill intent or danger, simply as a natural thing. And quite often, this is actually the case. However, while the senses certainly do their part, the fact is that the real reason that often comes into play is that creatures like those tend to have far less preoccupied minds and fewer preconceptions about things than your general upright-walking social brain on legs, while still knowing what they are about. Often the tendency toward having more simplistic priorities helps as well. And if anything could be said about Rover's mind, it would certainly not be that it was preoccupied. So while the man, or whatever the figure was, did had a movement pattern that unnerved, and a faint smell like cigarettes dipped in acid and paint varnish, it was mostly the primal sense of sheer evil that represented the metaphorical nails on a chalkboard to the gryphon. It was as strong a deterrent as bright colors and an unnatural fearlessness might have been to a jungle predator.
   Suddenly, the figure moved, putting its hands down and tensing. It seemed to have spotted something of interest. Something out on the dance floor, or toward the other side of the room.
   'It's not me you should bother with, you big pile of feathers. Now, excuse me...' The masked man adjusted his collar, and smoothly moved away, moving across the impeccable marble floor in a mode of movement far more serpentine than a regular walk.

The man didn't so much as touch her. He just... drew her attention inexorably toward him with his sheer presence. One second there was nothing, and the next he was there, standing over her to her side, his black-eyed stare impossible to ignore. His lacquered mask, long blond hair falling down behind it, was eerily expressionate and somewhat ghastly. Back against the wall, Elizabeth seemed between a rock and a hard place.
   'Care to dance, miss?' the apparition said. 'That way, I can lead you.'
   The room seemed distant and silent for a second. There was something about that last comment...

[Cogidubnus]

 The ballroom swirled with colors, as people of all shapes and sizes, creatures and beings wearing all shades of colors danced, spoke, and even occasionally enjoyed themselves. The orchestra now played loudly, and was even playing some tunes it was possible to dance to.
Servants with trays mingled through the crowd. They were filled with mostly drinks, although there were a few small foods -  this was a dance, not a dinner. They served drinks both in the crowd, and took empty glasses to a table at the side of the room, where rows upon rows of them were filled with a sparkling, red punch. The punch was very good, and that is what they mostly served, but if one desired a particular drink, one merely had to ask.

* * *

Even in the swirls of color, the predominant shade of the ball was red. It made sense, after all - It was the Scarlet Masque. One man, dressed from head to toe red, stood on the third floor, drinking the red punch. How he managed to to do so through his mask was an interesting question. He appeared to be looking down at the rest of the ball.
"Silly people, you should know, you shall read just what you shall sow..." he said. He took a drink, spilling a drop of his drink the process. A red drop fell to the floor, contrasting sharply with the white marble. He rubbed it out with his foot.
"Bloody Gods are coming back, monsters from the endless black. Wading through a crimson flood, God has come to drink your blood..."

"You first, of course."

* * *

Sharon turned around slowly, eyeing Jeremiah before she turned to face him. Her face twitched just moments before she looked at him.

"Jeremiah!" she said, grinning. "Thank god you're here. You'll never believe what's going on." she laughed nervously, brushing wet bangs back from her eyes with one hand, smearing blood and sweat. "I...look, I've got things under control here. The canapes in the fridge behind you. You'd better get'em before the black-and-white ass comes down here." she smiled, her face the image of helpfulness.
Jeremiah heard something clatter to the floor. The pliers - even as she was looking at him, almost by itself, her arm was fumbling around on the counter behind her. He could see a cleaver not too far from her glittering wetly.

* * *

The servant returned and approached Gareeku and Rynkura a moment later, two glasses in hand.
"A glass of the red for the lady," he said, handing the tigress a long, fluted glass filled with red, "And a glass of the white wine for the monsieur. Please, enjoy." he bowed, and disappeared to attend to his other responsibilities.

* * * 

Kiet felt a tap on his shoulder. It was, oddly, the yellow-waistcoated fox.
"You are Kiet Ti'Pallo, I presume?" he said, making a bow. "Your mother was always a welcome sight at the Masque, sir, and I can tell you we're all pleased to meet her son. The Ti'Pallo clan has always been...reasonable, in my opinion. I understand the clan has an... interest in politics?"
  He lowered his voice. "The benefactor of the ball wishes to have a word with you, sir, about certain...issues. Might it be possible to have a word in private?"

He looked up at the ringtail, measuring.

* * *

  Horatio danced with Andrace, the snow fox dancing with a strangely sinuous motion. He was surprisingly good at it, for a mammal.
"Enjoying yourself yet?" he said. He sounded distracted, as though he was watching something else. "These soirees are always so fun. Not enough food, nothing good to drink, nowhere to sit..." he grinned. "I suppose the view isn't bad, though.

  ** *

Something bumped into Karazkt. "Excuse me..."

The insectis turned. A rather portly dog being, with a rather less portly lady, moved around the heretofore stock-still insectis. He seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with him, although that wasn't so hard, as long as he avoided looking at Karazkt's entire head. The insectis noticed the man's dress.
Yes! He remembered something his queen had said! The man walked with a scepter! Surely this man was someone of great authority! He would know where to find the Queen in charge here.

[Boog]

Always the cute ones. If this means the bat was right I'll never forgive her for it...
We have the knife, right? They did. Jeremiah could feel the weight of it hidden in his shirt, at the small of his back. He'd grabbed it this morning in case Elyse turned out to be as crazy as he'd thought she was the previous night. The frog stepped back toward the fridge, keeping his eyes on Sharon and fumbling behind his back, trying to see if he could get at the knife without her noticing while the other hand opened the fridge. She's stronger than me. I know this for certain, seen the girl carting huge pots of soup and whatever one handed.
We're so dead.
"So, what wont I believe?" Jeremiah asked, trying to keep his voice friendly as his fingers finally closed on the knife in its sheath, "Stripeyboy bring a date to the ball?"

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace's ears perked forward, then drooped to half-mast as her eyes widened and her tail-tuft fluffed out melodramatically. "Not 'nough food?" she said in tones of mock horror. "There's only one way out o' that sit'ation — grab some b'fore it's all gone!" The lioness twitched the side of her muzzle into a faint hint of a smile. Although Horatio was leading, she managed to direct them towards the nearest food table as the band wound down to the end of the next dance.

Andrace's gaze took in the variety of of dishes and bowls spread out in front of her. She speared a tasty-looking canape with an extended claw and paused for a moment just before popping it into her mouth. Her tail flicked out and lightly tapped Horatio's leg. "Oh, an' I heard what else y' said," she purred with a mischievous little grin. "So, I'm scenery now? I wonder if y' boss knows 'bout th' squeaky little noises y' make when I... say... what th' frig is this stuff?" Her nose had been twitching as the lioness held the canape just in front of it. Her ears and whiskers went back, and her tail lashed once. Something about the smell of the little morsel was making the fur at the back of her neck bristle.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

"Good evening, Mr. Atem," responded Mel. "Are you enjoying the spectacle and pageantry of the Scarlett Masque so far?"

[e_voyager]

" it is much more ... unusual then i expected dear Mel" Atem/ Aten said looking in the direction of the guard who had attracted his attention earlier. " I see that your grandmother has already gathered a throng of  supplicants" as he said the last part his ears drooped  a little as if disappointed in the development

[Azlan]

"Thank you, I feel welcome.  Oh, and it is TiPaollo.  We dropped the apostrophe from the olde tongue a few millenia ago.  We achieved most of what we needed from creating the fallacy that our founder was dead, but that's a rather long and boring story."  He raised an eyebrow to the question of the clan's interest in politics, "well, we have been very political and resourceful during the clans wars, profiting off of the misfortune of other clans.  We also build community, first among our own... taking in those that had lost their founders, then among all by building a nation for beings and creatures alike living as equals and partners in society."

The ringtail sighed, "I'm sure you are not interested in our rhetoric though.  If the benefactor of this ball wishes to speak then please, lead the way."

Camiole, well versed in the art of remaining unnoticed, remained at Kiet's side.  I thought you said you were only coming for the party and the fun?  She thought to Kiet.

I know, but it was bound to happen.  I'm sure this will be something very bad, because of this little mirror.  If I'm forced to use the scorched earth option, I want you and the team to teleport out of here.  There is at least one ancient dragon at this ball, I do not know what its involvement in all this is, but dragons are bad.  I don't want the four of you getting killed because of dodgy old hags holding pointless racial grudges.  I don't think its like that, but who knows really.  I passed the word to the Duke, he and all of our allies are casually withdrawing all non-essential personnel.  Those that have to remain for political reasons have escape stones.

Camiole remained straight faced, taking a sip of her white wine, what will you do?

If I have to, I'll rely on Opa to get me out.  I don't want that to happen, it will break the delicate balance of things. 

Speaking out loud, but keeping a low voice,  Kiet addressed the fox, "this is shaping up to be an interesting evening, I never expected to be meeting the benefactor."   

[Yugo]

(OOC: Not my best post, but I hope it works for you Stygian.)

Esme gritted her teeth behind closed lips in a manner that was usually foreign to the young Angel, wishing that she had the sense of mind and willpower to verbally lash out at the strange man whom she found suddenly holding her. She had not had much to drink - as a matter of fact, she hadn't consumed the least bit of alcohol at the event so far, and instead had merely stared into an empty wine glass that she had appeared to conjure from thin air. The frustration settled deeply within her as various people, all now blending into one grey indistinguishable mass, blurred by her vision as she found herself directed towards the center of the room against her will. The doctor knew she was being mentally manipulated, perhaps through magic; there was no doubt of that, as there could have been no other explanation for the sudden muddled senses and inability to act. The only thing that kept the lynx in check for the time being was the knowledge that the man grasping her waist was correct in inferring that wisdom and opinion were what she sought. Her stomach was now perhaps quite literally doing flip flops, and Esme feared opening her mouth to speak might make her suffer rather dramatic and messy consequences. "Then I'll play," she managed, almost choking upon the effort she exerted to speak.

The sickness subsided almost as quickly as it had come on, and Esme completely missed the words hitting the back of her head as she stood dumbly amid the dancing couples, the skin beneath her fur a pale white. I think I'm going to throw up. The Angel grasped for anything nearby she could steady herself with, fingers squeezing the cloth of Elyse's dress as she wobbled dangerously. "No, everything is most certainly not okay." The woman's voice was barely a whisper as she forced the ring back into her palm, pressing it against the bat's stomach as best she could. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to tell me what this means, and what it symbolizes. Can you do that for me?" I hope for my sake and everyone else's that you can, Esme thought quietly as her eyes darted about the ballroom, searching for unwanted attention.

[techmaster-glitch]

   As Karazkt turned to face the person who had bumped him. Karazkt would have given him a quick brush with his antennae, as is practically second-nature to Insectis when meeting others, but Royals were a special case in that they always had to initiate contact like that first.
   Karazkt made a light buzzing sound, that was roughly the equivalent to someone making an 'Ahhh...' sound. "You...are a Royal, are you noT? IT iz zo hard To Tell with you zurfazerz..." Karazkt said, slowly stumbling through the unfamiliar surfacer language, with his accent. "I wish To zpeaK with the Kween of thiz Hive, or whoever organized thiz evenT..."

[Cogidubnus]

 Sharon's eye twitched while Jeremiah carefully kept himself from turning his back on the pink frog. Her hand was quite obviously fumbling for the knife on the counter behind her, and the seemingly genuine grin on her face was getting stale.

Her hand finally found the knife behind her, grasping the handle tight. Jeremiah heard...something, a scream perhaps, the sound that a banshee makes when it seeks to kill its victim out of pure fright, impossible not be be jarred by. She threw the knife hard, and he could hear the tight whistle as it barely missed his eye and grazed his head, slamming nicely into the wooden cupboards behind him.
All pretense was abandoned now, the look in her eye horrifyingly savage and her grin manic. She grabbed the pot full of boiling blood, the head sloshing out, throwing the scalding liquid in his general direction, and lunged for him, arm muscles bulging with implied strength.

  * * *

Horatio raised an eyebrow, and took the little morsel from Andrace, sniffing it. He frowned, but shook his head. "The chicken went bad, I guess. There are food shortages around here, after all. I'm surprised the party even happened this year, really." he said, setting the canape back down. Trash cans were in short supply, so he just flipped the pastry upside-down. "And, no, my boss doesn't know about that," he blushed beneath his fur, turning to grab a glass of wine, "And if I have any luck never wi-

He looked around the room, and made a subtle jerk. He paused.
"Your target is leaving." he said to the lioness.

Through the sea of dresses and bright clothing, the figure of Kiet Ti'Pallo and his General's Uniform could be seen walking with the Master of Ceremonies across the room to the side entrance into the west hall. Horatio turned a moment later and grabbed a glass, sipping from it.
"You're invisible to Cubi, remember." he looked at her from behind his glasses, to the side. "Leave by the front entrance, take the rightmost hallway, and keep going until you reach the end. Take the next right, keep walking, and your second right will be that hallway they're entering." he took a breath. "You should be able to smell where they go from there. If you keep silent and hidden, they should never know you're coming." he took another drink, scanning the room quickly again. "If something happens...try and make it back here. He wouldn't be stupid enough to attack with all the guards around here."

He set the glass down. He'd somehow drained it in the few moments he'd had it. People were starting to press up against the pair, the both of them blocking the food and drink, and Horatio politely extricated himself before kissing Andrace full on the lips, and whispering in her ear.
"Good luck."

* * *

"I am glad to hear it, sir." the fox said to Kiet, "And my master will be most pleased. If you could follow me?" he smiled, turning and pausing for just a moment to see if the Cubi was indeed following, and then walking towards the opposite end of the ballroom from Luna. When he got to the door, he opened it politely for the Cubi. Dark carpeting and faux-gas lamps lit the hall, doors and stairways lining either side.
"We do appreciate this, sir. The Benefactor this evening has actually taken ill, and requested that you be brought down to him in his room, which is located in the lower levels. Odd for a master, I know, but I'm sure you can understand the eccentric habits of others." he grinned as they walked through the dark halls, taking a right into another hall, and then down the stairs and into halls carved from natural stone.

"There are actually some impressive crystal formations located underneath the kitchens area. I understand they're a type of Garnet not generally indigenous to this region, mostly schistose rocks being present but gnissic here. Possibly a dormant volcano to blame - but in any case, very pretty, the brightest blood red you've ever seen..." he trailed off, turning a corner.

* * *

The hound blinked, silent for a moment, as he gathered his own wits. "I...most certainly am not. I'm the democratically elected president of Osrao." he wobbled for a moment. "But the Queen of the...hive? Ah...the organized. I'd say her." he said, and pointed to the dragon woman in red at the top of the stairs, with the face of fire. "Closest thing there is. Thank you, thank you, good day..." he bowed, doffing his hat, and did his best to get away from the insect as fast as possible.

[Boog]

As bits of his mind curled in on themselves in testes-shriveling terror, all Jeremiah could coherently think about was the fact that he'd only come down here to get canapes. Maybe champagne. The whine of the knife streaking past him into the cupboards already had him moving, sliding past the bucket of blood moving through the air as his own blade was whisked out of his sheath. For a frozen moment he considered the splash of hot crimson in the air. He was an artist, it was pretty. The organic shapes of the red, the way the light highlighted these little spots along this one splash that reminded him of some manner of tiara... Beautiful. Briefly, he wondered if he was really all there. This all took maybe half a second, a second tops.
His dodge of the horned toad's lunge was a touch less graceful, staggeringly giving ground and flailing with the knife to keep Sharon at her distance.

[SpottedKitty]

The small, mischievous smirk on Andrace's muzzle vanished the moment Horatio said the word "target", leaving her face totally expressionless. "How d' y' know?" she murmured quietly, her lips barely moving. "Agh, stupid, y're on Herself's security team, o' course y'd be told." Turning her head as little as possible, the lioness glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Ti'Paollo — without his bodyguard — led out of the ballroom by a fox wearing a luridly yellow waistcoat. As she watched, her right ear turned back towards Horatio to catch every word of his directions, which filled in a few more gaps in her mental map of the castle. Her expression didn't change, but her whiskers fanned out as she realised which hall Horatio meant. She'd probably be too late to catch him there, but in the next hall along...

"Thanks f'r th' assist, H'ratio. Don't go 'way, I'll be right back!" She returned the fox's kiss and hugged him as tightly as her bulky skirt allowed, then she turned and walked off. She didn't even seem to be walking quickly, but her speed was deceptive: in moments she'd reached the door and slipped through.

In the deserted corridors, Andrace could safely hurry without worrying about attracting attention. She didn't quite follow the route Horatio told her: when she came to a part of the castle she'd explored earlier in the afternoon, she turned left instead of right. A few more turnings, and she came to a side entrance to a long hall, just as Ti'Paollo and his guide appeared at the far end. Perfect. Still hiding behind the barely opened side door, she looked across the hall to an item she'd found and prepared earlier: a winding handle on the wall attached to a pulley for lowering the large, decorative, and heavy chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The 'Cubi was almost in position, and almost as important, the other fox was just about far enough away for safety. Probably. Almost... now!

The lioness had very little magical talent, but she'd learned to make a little go a long way. The pitifully weak heat spell she tossed across the hall wouldn't have blistered the paint on the handle, and it probably couldn't be detected more than a few feet away. But the chemical-impregnated cord she'd wrapped around the end of the rope earlier was a different matter. It immediately began to burn fiercely: only for a few seconds, but long enough to cut cleanly through the rope without risking setting the whole castle on fire. Andrace tensed her body, ready to hitch up her skirt and run if she had to. Normally she would have already left, it would have been courting suicide to hang around after launching an attack on a powerful Creature, but with her thoughts shielded by her enchanted bracelet it should be safe to watch and see what happened. She just had to keep quiet and out of sight, and try not to exhale minty fresh breath into the hall.

There was an odd shift in the light as the chandelier, abruptly no longer supported, silently began its fall towards Ti'Paollo's head.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

"Unusual?" repeated the young dragon, in response to Atem's comment. "Well, it does seem a little amateurish for an event of such lineage. Is that what you mean?" She glanced over at the crowd surrounding her grandmother. "That group will clear out quickly enough. It is just business. Get in, negotiate their business, get out. Later, when her cronies start showing up and they start talking about old times, that will be the immovable object."

[e_voyager]

"then i should approach her with my questions now? " Atem looked at the crowed and nodded. yes it did make sense. she would more likely to allow one of many supplicants to interrupt each other with request then rather interrupt her time reminiscing with old friend. "very well thank you for the advice but also is there anything that your grandmother might have interest in that a merchant like myself could acquire for her? "  he asked hoping  for a positive answer.

[Azlan]

Kiet had followed the rather important looking fox and carefully considered his words.  As they passed through the threshold between the ballroom and the halls, Camiole separated and moved to the shadows.  Still practicing her psionic stealth, quietly she followed hanging a ways back, not too far though, taking the best possible route and stalking the ringtail as if he were prey.

"Lower halls you say?  My, if I didn't know better I would think you are leading me into a trap."  Kiet observed the fox's thoughts and reactions to his blunt statement.

The feline's surprise at the older incubus's candor, almost made her miss the large lioness whom had appeared seemingly out of nowhere across from her.  She was dressed for the ball and Cam could have sworn she had seen her before.  Her gesture was subtle, but not overtly concealed, which showed she did not expect to be seen.  Camiole found no presence of mind, but following her gaze during the gesture it was obvious.

Chandelier... rope burned... falling!  Camiole screamed at Kiet's mind as she projected the scene from her visual prospective.

A well rehearsed soldier always has a plan and one who has thousands of years experience reacts by rote.  Kiet threw his perceptions out into a circle encompassing the room both mentally and visually.  Magically would take to long and he would have to do it after his next contingency.  He caught a brief glimpse of the lioness, but no mind to speak of.  For the moment he had to let that image pass, he could perform a recall of it later, but for now he had a more pressing concern.

He stole a quick gaze up at the tumbling fixture and concentrated his effect.  For anyone observing, Kiet and the chandelier both blinked out and then reappeared, but slightly differently placed then before the blink.

The fine fixture now sat in its original place, the rope whole once again (minus the combustible chemical cord) and Kiet where he started.  As if nothing had happened, the ringtail continued on after the yellow-waistcoated fox.

Don't linger too long Camiole, and let her go... I think this may be quite amusing.  Before you talk to her, show me your observations since we've been in the castle.  Recalling the face in his mind, he received the images, held them and played back the scenes as he walked.  The lioness had indeed been to the party and was accompanied by a fox, a seemingly affectionate relationship it would seem.


Disappearing from her alcove, the clouded leopardess boiled from the shadows near Andrace, "my dear lady, the ball is back this way."

[Aisha deCabre]

Except for the calamities that were happening backstage, things seemed to be going as normal in the ballroom.  It hadn't been long after their orders before the servant had returned with the respective wine glasses for Gareeku and Rynkura.  The tigress was patient, indeed...in fact she was also starting to feel a little more comfortable in the ballroom, simply enjoying the scenery and taking in all of the senses of the affair.

It's quite funny, she thought, that unless people danced, ate, or socialized, parties are otherwise often boring.  The Healer had a small smirk on her face, hinting at her thoughts.  There is very little difference between the aristocrat and the pauper in that regard.  Except the latter knows how to not act stuffy and condescending...

Rynkura took a sip of her wine and gave her lips a smack at the taste.  It was as flavorful as she liked, still with more of the recognizable alcohol tinge than what she had at the hotel's restaurant.  And while she stood with the wolf, she carefully observed the goings-on around the dragons.

For a moment she even recognized Atem near the feet of the bustling crowd waiting to address the monarch.  "Hrmh, I know few dragons that seem to rival that one's self importance, and they're all from clan Stormclaw..." she chuckled, then glanced toward Gareeku.  "I believe I shall visit the food table for a moment."  She put her hand on his shoulder and briefly inclined her head towards where Cerebus was standing.  "Try not to let his presence get to you, my young friend."

The angel then gathered herself and pressed her wings against her body so as not to let them bump into anyone as she walked towards the table.  She casually scanned the vicinity, picking up one of the small canapes and smelling it.  Her nose instantly wrinkled.  Sure, it seemed fine, but the angel's better senses picked up something a little...off about it.  Shrugging with a hum, she frosted it a little with some very light ice magic from her fingers and nibbled at it, moving down the line.

[Cogidubnus]

 The fox laughed hard at Kiet's statement, putting his muzzle into his mouth for a moment to conceal his mirth and then grinning at him from over his shoulder. "I will not pretend that I've never gotten my hands dirty, but killing is surely a...last resort. Killing makes people squeamish. It makes people ask questions...and its always very... messy." His feet echoed through the hall. "I'm not here to kill you, sir." Kiet could read his thoughts, and found that it was, indeed, true. "Believe me...if I was killing people now..." he didn't turn, but the fox's smile could be felt as he walked forward. "Well, there'd be very few of you left."

When the fox paused beneath the chandelier for some reason, the fox raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and continued on, turning the corner, slowing his pace only a bit for Kiet to catch up. "You know, monsieur, Incubi and Succubi have always fascinated me. Feeding on emotions, the indirect perception of others, the shapeshifting...natural born masters of deception. But it has always seemed to me, you'd have to guard against being too...comfortable, with yourself. I've done some reading, you see." he stopped, and turned to face Kiet. His smile was crooked, gleaming, and smug bordering on the ecstatic.
"The most common cause of Death for powerful Cubi seems to have been overconfidence."

The fox jumped backwards, getting distance from Kiet, and then as calm as he pleased walked straight into solid stone. It did not deter him any more than air, however, the rock melting around him and sealing up behind - and Kiet realized that he couldn't sense the man anymore.
He realized, in fact, that he couldn't sense anyone anymore, even the people in the ball above - although, shouldn't he be able to sense Camiole...?

* * *

Camiole was professional, and as such, was not gloating in particular when she felt the daggers punch through her gut, and the other through her lung. Blood welled into her throat, and her mind raced - it was absurd, impossible, to sneak up on emotionally-aware, mind-reading Cubi. How had she not sensed it? How had she not smelled it, heard it?
Why hadn't Kiet warned her?
She thought no further. Despite her prodigious speed, centuries of experience and power, the nameless something with simple knives was faster. Daggers whipping around her head, blinding her as they stabbed into her brainpan. She thought no more.

* * *

It was no more than five feet tall, not huge by any standard, not imposing in the least. It stood naked - it's flesh was gray, hairless, but it's eyes glowed a red like blood or garnets, and it's teeth - broken, missing and some bleeding - were twisted in a cracked smile. It held two knives in it's hands - and as Andrace had just seen, it was feindishly fast.

Use me

Andrace heard something before the thing lunged at her, knives whistling harshly through the air.

* * *

Jeremiah's flailing attempts to keep the crazed frog at bay were moderately successful, as were his attempts to dodge the bucket of boiling blood. A few stinging drops landed on his arms, but nothing that would leave anything permament. Sharon flew through the air with not-unexpected speed - she was a frog after all. It was impossible to alter one's trajectory midair, of course, but the pink frog managed to angle herself away from the unexpectedly sharp implement just enough to miss crashing into Jeremiah, and instead crash into the refrigerator. She bounced off comically - painfully - and the concussion knocked the fridge and several cabinets open, raining plates and canapes down onto the floor and Sharon alike. She began to scramble to her feet, hate-filled eyes locked on Jeremiah.

She pulled the knife out the cabient beside her, licking her teeth. Again she threw it, the knife whistling through the air. It exploded a second later, an ear-splitting sound so loud booming through the room that Jeremiah dropped was he was holding, and Sharon screamed something unintelligible as she cupped her ears.
Jeremiah looked - a black cat, one yellow eye staring at Sharon strangely, and the other eye grotesquely ruined, was aiming a rather intimidating looking revolver at her. He fired, another earsplitting boom - and Sharon's chest exploded in a shower of gore, the frog falling straight down.

The yellow eye turned to Jeremiah. He stared at the frog for a second, as if he was unsure. "You're...no, you're not his. You are not broken, just full."
That seemed to be the end of it. He crossed the room, putting the revolver back in a ratty looking coat, and opened the door leading upstairs.

A moment later Sharon, in an impressive display of physical prowess, managed to spring from her back all the way across the room without any discernible in-between. They both screamed as she tackled him to the ground, and Jeremiah could see a knife gleaming wetly in Sharon's hand.
The feline might have been timely, before, but it appeared the frog had the upper hand. He was pinned, unable to reach to get his revolver, and unable to match the larger, stronger kitchen aide in terms of physical power. A knife hovered just a split-centimeter from his one good eye.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace stared into the hall, frozen for a moment in surprise as Ti'Paollo did something magical — it happened too quickly for her to see exactly what — that completely reversed her attack. Her eyes widened as she saw the chandelier reappear up in the ceiling, with no sign it might be about to continue plummeting towards the ringtailed 'Cubi. She swore sulphurously under her breath, then again when the clouded leopard she'd thought was out of her way back in the ballroom suddenly appeared. She started to back away from the half-open door, her hand reaching for one of the weapons — any one — hidden in her purse. Her ears were laid back, and her tail was as stiff and fluffed-out as a bottle brush. Too late: Ti'Paollo's bodyguard lunged out of the shadows beside her, then...

It all happened in seconds. From the first spray of blood across the leopard's dress to her collapse, gory froth bubbling from her muzzle, Andrace barely had time to scuttle backwards and put her hand into her purse. The grey thing that had reduced a deadly opponent to a bloody heap of slashed and stabbed fur paused long enough to let the lioness see it clearly, staring at her with balefully glowing red eyes. It should be covered in blood! was the first thing — not quite relevant though it was — to skitter through her mind as she took another cautious step backwards. Th' last time I chopped some'n up like that, I was washin' m' fur f'r hours! Andrace bared her fangs with a defiant snarl and pushed her hand further into her purse: the monster was blindingly fast, but was it faster than a bullet...?

Use me.

The voice made her hand shift to one side deep inside her purse. The item she gripped and pulled out was not her gun. Her vision twisted, colour leaching away from the already dim corridor. Andrace raised her hand and stared in horror at the Death-sword she held. On the floor she could see bright colourful lines slashing across the leopard's body, already slowly fading. Then the grey monster leaped forward to attack, its knives at the ready, and there was no time for anything except to raise her sword, the weapon she'd thought too dreadful to use. Her own eyes glowing with the colours of a curdled rainbow, the lioness screamed like a berserker (albeit one in a very pretty dress) and lunged to meet the attack.

[Boog]

The booming report of the revolver momentarily turned Jeremiah's legs to jelly. He didn't like guns. It wasn't anything idealogical, no objection to the idea of a powerful weapon. They were noisy and dangerous and they scared him. He fell against the counter shaking as Sharon went down. That didn't just happen. Or this didn't just happen. The utter sweetheart of a girl who I've been getting free coffee out of and flattering shamelessly didn't just pull a knife on me before getting gunned down by this guy...
And then she was up again, moving PAST him to get to his rescuer in a truly impressive leap.
Let us talk, for a moment, about reflexes.
A being's reflexes are a remarkable thing in that, while it's most known for some simple, flinching actions it's quite capable of sending one into a complex series of motions based on what simply seems like the best idea available to the subconscious at the time while the conscious mind is still shifting gears. A man had just saved his life. Now that man was in danger, and his attacker was vulnerable. And Jeremiah had a knife. The procedure, it had to be said, was obvious.
The frog had taken three smart steps forward and raised the knife before these thoughts had even finished arranging themselves. By then Sharon had noticed his approach, so it was rather too late to back out. The dagger plunged down into the girl's back, between the shoulder blades.
AhaehehehahahohAHEHAEHEAHAHAHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh shut up.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Karazkt didn't really get the meaning of most of what the surfacer said, especially "elected president", but he got the part pointing to a particular surfacer over by the stairs. Through his infravision, the cold-flame-mask she wore was a rather aesthetically pleasing. Other powerful, regal features about her suggested she was indeed the Queen of this Hive.
  Karazkt made his way to the stairs, until he was somewhat near the supposed Queen. Of course, Karazkt was only of a subservient caste, as all except the Royals are. He could not approach the Queen directly himself in any way, she must invite him after he asks to be in her presence through an attendant. It was hard to tell, but eventually, Karazkt pegged someone nearby to be an attendant to her.
  Karazkt went up the the surfacer, and, as per standard introduction, brushed the person over with his antennae, and then bent them in a way that, in his culture, was standard subservience when addressing anyone of higher station (While the hierarchy of command might not apply between Hives, the hierarchy of respect did). Though, Karazkt still wondered how the surfacers introduced themselves properly without such important antennae, but continued to say, "I reKwezT an audienze with your Kween."

[Azlan]

All source of visual light left with the fox as he melted into solid stone.  Kiet, surrounded by cold darkness, and cut off from the world felt something he had never truly experienced, being alone.  He momentarily fluffed all four feathered wings fully and extended eight tentacles.  He took on a feral appearance, his eyes mirrored those of the tentacle heads becoming seething pools of green, as he snarled and spun a full 360.  His little dragon heads snapping at the oppressive, byzantine womb of void the darkness seemed to be.

When nothing came at him, he calmed himself, thrashing around in the darkness would do him little good.  He ended the visual enchantment on his glasses and replaced the effect with a zone of light.  With a more reasoning mind, he surveyed the area around him.  A path ahead of him branches out in two directions and a three-way intersection behind him having paths leading straight, to the left, and to the right.  It is nothing like it was a few moments ago.

"By the twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, it feels... like reality is warped in a bounded field.  What could do such a thing?  Why can't I contact Camiole... Jayce... Simon?"  One of his wing-tentacle heads turned and gave him a quizzical look and pantomimed a shrug.  No matter how much he tried, he received a sense that something horrible had happened, but he could not divine what.

Concentrating on his surroundings he wove a spell of True Sight.  With this, the pathways became more clear, but it still bore no resemblance to what his eyes had told him on his way in.  He drew the Tekka, activating it, and holding it out in front of him.  He chose a less foreboding pathway behind him and strode forward.  

After ten minutes of travel, he paused, the area ahead of him seemed strange.  It sat just beyond his visual range because of the light and it made the hackles on his neck raise signifying danger, but not a peep from his empathic based warning senses.  He considered the taunting words of the fox, "hmmph, I'll show you overconfidence.... calypso."

The ringtail twirled, pulling his wings tight to his person, in a tight circle as wings of fire grew out of his back.  He traced graceful movements with the Tekka that would have had an experienced Sword-Dancer nod approval.  The tunnel ahead of him and behind him filled with swirling tendrils of fire, traveling as far as they could go, and scorching the very rock of the walls.

As the fire died out, he proceeded carefully, sniffing for any hint of burned fur and flesh.

[Cogidubnus]

 The sword proved itself unnaturally sharp. It cleft straight through the creature's blades that rose to defend, all the way through the skin and bones and out through the other side - so hard the lioness had swung that she stumbled forward, the weight of the sword throwing her off balance. It, however, did not matter.

The creature flopped in two, the new edges of its broken body seeming to burn for a moment, before its flesh simply disintegrated. It left a light powder of dust on the ground.
A gust blew through the stone, and Andrace heard a high-pitched hiss as the wind suddenly blew her hair back.

"...this is most unexpected."

Andrace turned and saw a fox in a yellow waistcoat standing a good twenty feet away from her, an intimidating-looking pistol in one hand. "Where the hell did you get that..." he scowled. "Stealing the master's toys is very much frowned upon. I'll be taking that back before you do something foolish with it." he said, and raised the gun.

The wall

Out of the corner of her eye, Andrace saw the wall of stone beside her, grey and lifeless as it was, had a thin line of red...

* * *

Kiet chose wisely. More than the smell of charred and burned bodies assaulted his senses - more than a few smoking corpses, some of them still with clothing on fire, littered the hallway he had just cleared. Some were armed with knives, others with guns, and one with a staff that looked like it had been forged by a madman, all spikes and crooked edges. He doubted it did anything he'd want to find out about.

He heard footsteps. Someone turned the corner in front of him - a person he remembered seeing from the ball above, in a very well-dressed suit.

"Excuse me, ah...but how did you find me down here?" he blinked. "That's not important, I suppose, but I should thank you. Those 'cultists' - if they are still that - have been following me down here for awhile. I think they were having some sport with me." he winced, holding his head. "I'm sorry, I'm leading a dual existance right now, it's a bit hard on the mortal concious."

* * *  

Sharon jerked and abruptly stopped moving. The cat pinned beneath her shifted her body off roughly, the corpse making a dull thud on the linoleum. He looked at her for a moment, breathed out loudly, and looked at Jeremiah. He laughed and grinned, his grin just a little broken.
"I'm crazy, but you must be a stupid fuck. How did you survive here for so long?" he stood up with odd speed. "I guess my castle must feel sorry for you."

***

Brunhilda turned very slowly. She looked down at the insectis. And was silent.

She didn't need to bend over - despite her short height, she generally towered over people anyway - but in this case the insectis was shorter, and she bent over anyway. Her eye narrowed.
"Last person who touched me without askin' is missin' parts." she said, quietly. "The lady is taking all comers today. Just go talk to her."

* * *

"Mistress Msh'taan?"

Rynkura saw a snow-white fox in the formal robes of her monastery across the food table - Olan Danya, one of her former students of many years ago. He'd left the monastery and gone on to lead a life as a professional diplomat. He smiled a wide smile full of small, white teeth. "I did not expect to ever see you here, Mistress." he crossed over the other side of the table. "But happiness is almost always unexpected." he said, and embraced her.

"I'm glad you could make it all the way here. How fares the monastery?"

* * *

The man in red popped a grape into his mouth, and began descending the third staircase to the second.

"No time like the present, I suppose..." he said, walking slowly and taking his time. The doors around the ballroom started surreptitiously closing - someone was paying attention, it appeared.

Everything was in order.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel shrugged noncommittally at Atem's question. "It is impossible to predict what she will ask for a price. It depends on how difficult your request is to fulfill and what her mood is."

[e_voyager]

Atem nodded. " fair enough. thank you Mel I'll keep that in mind when phrasing my request" with that  Atem took a glass form a passing waiter tray and sipped it then turned  and approached  the throng that had developed around the lady Icewing. As he walked he wondered how should he approach her. like a sensible business man? or perhaps like a questing if somewhat slow witted youth? while that impression seemed to work well enough on Walter he didn't think that the matriarch would give in to superficial personality changes like that. he's just have to come out and ask her straight out for what he desired the family tree of the Valmont clan including the relationship between his parents the red dragon Eliander and the two know as Erutan and Eskavar. he would also ask about how Atem Valmont fits in not that he would for a second believe that she's not seen through his shallow name play before this.  he she was coming with her crowd of supplicants. " Excuse me Lady Icewing?"