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

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace listened intently to the details of the bracelet's enchantments, her ears and whiskers perked forward, her tailtip flicking lazily from side to side. The smile of satisfaction that slowly grew on her muzzle was very small, but very predatory. Then she nearly ruined the mood by having to stifle a giggling fit at the Dragon's final words.

"M' thanks, Miss Icewing," she said after she was sure she'd firmly stamped on her urge to laugh. "This'll be ideal t' help me in... th' little job y'r grandmother wants me t' do f'r her." The lioness reached out to take the bracelet, then bounced it gently in her hand a few times to gauge the weight.

Yep, feels 'bout right an' looks 'bout right for pure gold, or near 'nough, she thought. An' wi' those enchantments on it... won't do th' job for me, but I'll at least have a better chance o' not goin' home as a jar o' chunky salsa. An'... minty fresh breath? All right, I've not been able t' brush m' fangs properly th' last couple o' days, but it's not that bad already, is it?

Andrace pulled her right sleeve up a few inches and slipped her hand into the bracelet. Not too snug a fit, to mat and crinkle the fur on her wrist, and not too heavy, to throw off her balance at a critical moment. Good enough. She pulled her sleeve back down. It almost covered the bracelet, just a thin golden glitter still showing when she moved her arm.

She nodded in satisfaction. "M' thanks again, Miss Icewing," she said with a genuinely pleased smile, "this should be perfect."

[Stygian]

Tramping on, the bat swiveled her head and gaze from the left to the right, her mind alert and sharp and her attention flashing at every movement, every hint of activity or change. The yellow glow at the center of her eyes flickered and flared intermittently.
   'Yeah? That's good news for me then,' Elyse retorted sharply to Jeremiah, fingers curling and flexing and her smooth black claws gleaming. She didn't have her wings out but she would be ready to act on a moment's notice. 'If that's true that makes you at least a little less likely to be in on killing me. Or is it everyone else who dares show up here?' She shook her head and made a little bitter chuckle. 'Why am I asking you? And where the hell is that room?!'

[Cogidubnus]

 The bell dinged, and behind the counter, a magazine twitched as a muzzled face appeared from behind it, and was promptly set down. The badger's feet thumped from the countertop to the floor as he stood.
"Ah, I'm sorry ma'am, that should have been locked, we're actually closed..."

The clock read 11 PM, while the hours stated that the shop closed at nine. The Badger paused for a moment as he looked at this new customer, and adjusted the smallish glasses set perched on his nose.
"We don't have much in the way of what you might be looking for here, either...we carry only very plain weapons here, nothing like what madam might be used to..."

* * *

Horatio coughed softly - the fox had been heretofore silent during the conversation, of course. Now that Andrace had gotten what the mistress had requested her to get, however, he seemed somewhat eager to get out of the room.

His expression was carefully blank, of course, but his posture and stance, carefully leaving the open door clear, standing just by the side at an angle, seemed to communicate that they should leave the snow leopard - who, if his nose was in indication - was missing a fine dessert while they stood there.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Karazkt remained in place for a few moments after the two surfacers had left. He then waved his antennae in the Insectis equivalent of a shrug, and walked to his little cell. He knew he was a surfacer day early for this event, and he figured someone would retrieve him when it was to start. Even though it wasn't the right interval of a cycle (underground Insectis day), he would attempt to rest until then.
   He slid himself back into the small cell, curling up again and sealing the 'hatch' with a little burst of earth magic. After a few moments, he realized just how difficult resting was going to be. He was perfectly capable of just staying still and unmoving for any period of time, but actually sleeping wouldn't be so easy. He had always gone to sleep at a precise time every cycle, and woke up at precisely the same time every cycle, as part of the hive that functioned as a single rotating unit. He'd kept to that regimen during his journey to the surface unerringly.
   He then realized he'd have the same problem later, possibly during the event, but in reverse; instead of being unable to sleep, his body and mind would be telling him it was the time of the cycle to rest and regenerate.
   He began to ponder how else this surface world was going to conflict with him...

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace glanced over her shoulder at Horatio when he coughed, then turned her attention back to the Dragon. "If that's everything, then I'll let y' get back t' y'r business, Miss Icewing," she said with a friendly smile. Her whiskers twitched, and her eyes flicked for a moment towards the tray of pastries on a side table: she knew exactly what "business" she'd interrupted. "P'rhaps we'll meet again at th' Castle t'morrow. Until then, a good night t' you." The lioness gave a quick half-bow, turned and walked out into the corridor. When Horatio closed the door, she leaned against the wall and sighed — not too loudly, the Dragon was just inside the room — with relief.

"So, is that it for t'night, Horatio?" she asked the fox. "Will I see y' t'morrow, or are y' still... accompanyin' me?" She tilted her head slightly to one side. That predatory little grin was back on her face, and the end of her tail curled comfortably around her left ankle.

[Azlan]

The vixen smiled apologetically, "dreadfully sorry my good man, but I was unable to sleep and I thought I might look into something."

The Countess looked about the room at the assemblage of weaponry and giggled, a sound very lady like yet rife with suggestive tones of one who is being constantly underestimated.  "Nothing like what madam might be used to?  I would rather doubt that, for I am Countess Gladia Reynada of House Reynada, descendant of Vixana Reynada the Legendary Heroine.  My family has been adventurers and warriors for centuries, and I am no exception to this tradition."

This was a little white lie, as the form that was being used was actually of the Legendary Vixana herself.  Kiet had slain her many, many centuries ago, consuming her soul and ironically fueling a myth of her great deeds.  No one has ever known what happened to the legend, well no one but Vixana and Kiet that is.

"Fear not shop keeper, for I am not offended, snap judgements such as that are what give me an edge in combat.  Especially against arrogant creatures like dragons, demons and most especially 'cubi.  Since you are closed, I shall not hold up your precious time having to take my considerable wealth.  Instead, I shall ask a question."  She paused as if considering her words, "recently I have been introduced to a strange blending of modern weaponry and magic."

The vixen produced a single bullet, "this bullet is imbued with magic.  This sample was given to me by another adventurer colleague of mine.  I have been searching the world for the secrets behind these, as they are rather handy, or at the very least a source from which to purchase.  It might be nice to have another pistol... I wonder if anyone enchants them as well?  My family tradition is sword and magic, but a wise fox understands the versatility and advantage of keeping up to date on modern weapons.  Might you know something about this bullet and its enchantment and where I might find some?"

The Countess appeared to be thinking wistfully, in actuality, Kiet was using a subtle amount of influence to loosen the badger's mouth and mind enough to want to speak on the topic and perhaps do business.

OOC Note: ultimately it is the GM's decision, but my intent is that Vixana Reynada is truly a legend of epic proportions... well known across the lands.

[Cogidubnus]

 Horatio, glasses still firmly over those eyes, smiled - despite his best efforts, it turned out lopsided and cheeky rather than polite. "If I do recall, ma'am," he said, "They did not mention when I was to stop accompanying you." He leaned his head forward a little bit, giving a glimpse of those sea-green eyes sparkling.

He paused, and continued. "And if I also recall, you still need a phonecall and a drink, correct? If you would be so inclined, there should be a phone for personal use in your room. I'm sure I could find something to drink while you're talking."

* * *

The badger raised and eyebrow, and with the willpower of a seasoned clerk and storeowner managed to not look at the clock, but rather at the customer in front of him. My own damn fault for leaving the door open. Squirrels coming in at all hours, asking questions...

It appeared that he didn't quite understand who he was talking to at the moment - it could have been the hour, but it didn't appear that he would have recognized his own name if it wasn't on his shirt. He straightened his spectacles.
"May I see it?" he asked, grabbing it out of her hand before she could respond. He turned it over a few times in his hand, squinting, made a noise, and set it down on the counter before turning around and heading behind the counter again. His head ducked down beneath the mahogany, and Kiet could hear him rummaging around in something. He came back up holding a magazine and a box of ammunition.

"That appears to be Velvet Jack's silver-tip special .45." he said, setting the magazine and box down in front of the vixen. "This is a box of the same. This is their trade magazine."
"The silver is blessed, melted into bullets, and then sent to an arcanist. The bullet itself is then runed and enchanted for various effects - oftentimes to toughen the bullet, as blessed silver is not ideal for hard targets. The special, if I recall..." he paused. "Is kinetic momentum. Something about adding half again as much force behind the shot. There are various others. Immolating rounds are popular. They make cartridges for shotguns that have a homing effect. Each pellet individually runed. Not cheap."

"Stuff's been out for about a year now, mostly in trade shows and the like. We pride ourselves in carrying a variety of stock. You an aficionado, Miss Rey...you said Miss Reynada?"
He blinked, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to recall where he'd heard the name before.

[Azlan]

"Yes indeed, Reynada, from the Kingdom of Gavriel.  It is east of here, over the Edenmyst mountains and across the Isenmarch.  I have been invited here and thought I might check out the local weaponshop.  As for my interest, I am more of a practitiononer of the arts martial and a slayer of creatures.  So I will always be in the market for something which will increase my arsenal."

The vixen gathered up the magazine and flipped through it.  She paused after a brief moment, "do you happen to sell a firearm of the same calibur as this ammunition?"

Kiet had been putting off examining firearms for too long now.  They were becoming more and more available as the years progressed and he thought it wise to incorporate them into his Battle Tactics classes.

"I know you are closed, but I do have a large sack of gold currency that I have been determined to use to buy a new weapon."

The fox placed a very large pouch filled with small gold trade bars on the counter and fluttered her eyes innocently at the shop keeper.

[Shadrok]

After his meal had arrived Aruk started to wolf it down out of habit, but as soon as the first bite hit his tongue he was taken back by the taste. "Oh my! mmm" It had been what seemed like forever since he'd had such a meal as this, enough so that he had stopped and was now savoring every bite.

The steak was tender and moist, with just the right amount of kick in it's seasoning and garnished with some kind of herb that was unfamiliar to Aruk. As for the potatoes they were also just as flavorful as the stake, steamed with a hint of roasted garlic, slathered in butter, and garnished with parsley and sprinkled with pieces bacon.

When the meal was finished Aruk relaxed an reflected on the meal as he finished his glass of wine, and once finished he called the waitress for the bill. As he sat in the booth waiting for the bill he thought to himself "I wonder what that herb was, because even by it's self it was wonderful." His expression was now quite different from the serious face he had arrived with and had turned into one of complete satisfaction.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace's ears dipped slightly, and her expression changed to one of determination. "Phone call, right," she said grimly, "better get that done right now." The lioness pushed herself off from the wall and strode away quickly, only glancing back once to make sure Horatio was following her. The fox could see her ears twitching and dipping as she walked, and her tail flicked and bounced back and forth.

Back in her room, Andrace closed the door and locked it as soon as Horatio was inside. She waved him over to one of a pair of comfortable chairs on either side of the fireplace, and took a seat herself beside the phone. She glanced at the calendar on the wall, then looked thoughtful for a moment: she seemed to be counting forwards and backwards on her fingers, in an odd pattern. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and lifted the phone. Quickly but carefully she dialled a much longer than usual number. Her hand hovered over the phone, making it more difficult for Horatio to see exactly what she'd just dialled. She let it ring three times, hung up, then dialled what might have been the same number again, and wedged the handset between her shoulder and cheek.

"Ah, Despina, y're back, how'd it go? ... Oh, just tell Zach it'll heal up fine, an' his girl won't ever notice. Whoever she is this week. Brothers, eh? ... Not sure, though ... oh, y' did? Have t' look in m' pack later, that's great! Love ya, sis! ... Ah, one more thing. Th' Golden Cat's a what, not a who, little golden statue — ow!" The lioness flinched, snatched the phone as it fell from her shoulder, and held it at arm's length. Several loud shrieks could still be heard clearly from the other end of the line. When the noise had died down, she put the phone back to her ear again, cautiously.

"Ah, yeah, she is here. Just did. An' yeah, she did. No, I won't. ... Hope y' were sittin' down, Despina ... oh, y' are now? On Eugenia? Well, pick th' poor dear up, dust 'er off, an' tell 'er it's her turn t' go an' tell Aunt Kalliroe. Need t' get a note put in th' archives 'bout that, right away."

The lioness paused, a very faint growl rumbling deep in her chest, and her tail lashed once from root to tip. Finally she spoke a string of words, her voice softer but still very clear. "Autumn gale. Midnight flower. Broken claw." Very gently, she put the phone down, stood, and crossed the room to sit in the other fireside chair beside Horatio. "Now I really need that drink," she said, her gaze fixed not on the fox's face, but apparently the back of his head.

[Cogidubnus]

 The badger looked at the bag of gold, licked his teeth beneath his lips, and reached into his pocket. Kiet could hear the jangle of keys.

"For that kind of money, madam doesn't want that caliber ammunition." he said, turning and unlocking one side of the richly-lacquered wooden cabinet behind him. Unexpectedly, the entire front of the cabient, from counter-end to counter-end, slid to the side, exposing rack upon rack of firearms. Rifles stacked upon each other, shotguns standing like monoliths in a velvet desert, and more pistols than candy in a sweet shop greeted the eye. He reached in, grabbing something off the green surface, and then reached into a knee-high counter at his side, stacking three 3X5 boxes on top of each other and then setting them all down in front of the vixen.
As he set them down, he knelt and produced something else, three longish, thin-looking things with a wide base, which he set next to the gun.

"This is the Bird of Paradise." he said, nodding at the silvery gun in front of him. It looked nothing like the revolver that the jackal had been wielding - it had no wheel in which the bullets were inserted, and it seemed much larger than the other gun, enough that one might be able to use it as a bludgeon as much as a firearm.

"It's what colloquially known as a big-game weapon, and it is the most powerful handgun that I know of - .457 calibur rounds, Velvet Jack manufacture, Casaul specials. Again, blessed silver melted down into bullets and enchanted to increase the kinetic power behind it by half. It's generally not a good seller, as it blows most game in this area in half."

There was an engraved bird on the slide of the weapon - silver outlines weren't able to communicate color, of course, but from what he could see it appeared to represent some sort of phoenix, engulfed in flames. The signature of the weaponmaker appeared after it, a cursive scrawl that declared it a product of "Crown Weapons".
"This is a semi-automatic weapon, something relatively new. You know how to use this?" he said, cocking his head.

* * *

Horatio had been busy while Andrace was talking, finding a bottle of something in the kitchen before returning to his seat, complete with two glasses. He was pleased to see that the fire was already going - he'd never quite got the hang of fire magics, and starting the thing from paper and matches would have been a chore. By the time Andrace had returned to sit next to him, both glasses - wine glasses by the look of them, filled with some tawny liquid - were quite ready, and he held out a drink.
"You look like you're quite ready, yes." he said, smiling. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and his shades were set on the table.

"Everything went well, I hope? I don't mean to pry, of course. No secrets for me." he said, and a log popped on the fire. "Just wondering if everything went smoothly, I suppose."

[Boog]

"If you'll slow down a sec-!" Jeremiah sighed, adjusted his servant's uniform's collar, and set off again. "I don't know how you managed to lose it, I dropped you off right outside the thing." Mentally grumbling, the frog got back in the lead and led the way to Elyse's room. "Completely furnished with everything you should need, bathroom's over there, there's even a bed, now what's this about dead people?" He flopped into one of the cozy looking chairs in the room and steepled his fingers. "Sounds worth knowing."

[SpottedKitty]

"M' thanks, H'ratio," Andrace murmured as she took the offered drink and knocked it back in one long swallow. She gave a quiet little cough, her eyes bulged slightly, and all her claws unsheathed. The fox didn't think there was smoke curling out from between her clenched fangs, but he was fairly sure every visible hair on her body had started to curl.

"Wow," the lioness croaked hoarsely after a few seconds, "dunno what this is, but it's pretty good. Smooth. Nice delicate bouquet." She inspected the now empty glass with great respect, possibly looking for evidence of etching on the inside. Then she leaned forward, picked up the bottle, and refilled her glass.

"Nothing secret, H'ratio," she said — not entirely accurately — in reply to the fox's question. "B'sides, it's likely t' be all over th' news soon anyway. Some o' th' Pride just got back home from a job, clearin' out that lot o' bandits in the forest near Armansta. M' little brother Zach got himself chomped on a bit by some giant Mythos. Again. I swear, that boy's got th' worst luck when it comes t' monster critters. He's fine, though, m' sister Despina does some real good healin' spells."

The lioness grew steadily more talkative as she worked her way, more slowly this time, through her next few drinks. After the second, she started telling funny stories about her adventures with her brothers and sisters. Then she gradually switched to stories not suitable for the parents of young cubs. By the time the bottle was nearly empty, her eyes were a little brighter and her voice was a little slower and more deliberate, and Horatio had learned three things.

One, Andrace Kithara was a somewhat bloodthirsty wench, with what some might consider a dubious sense of humour.

Two, it was not a good idea to challenge a Kithara adventurer with the words, "I'll show you I've got guts".

Three, the lioness sitting opposite him was probably capable of drinking him under the table, and then lying on the floor without holding on.

[Stygian]

'Like I said. Bodies. Piled in a room. Some of them seemed whole, others were not very much so. What, you want the specifics? Most of them seemed to be dressed in plain clothes or livery. I thought I saw a red coat. That do anything for you?' the bat replied with quite noticeable irritation, not only at being questioned so but also at him being able to find his way to her room with rather a lot fewer steps than she recalled having taken, but going in what she perceived to be the same direction. It was fairly clear by now that she should have gone with her first instincts and not have entered at all. Or at least have brought a whole lot of backup. The most irritating reminder that came with those concerns was that she didn't really have any backup to call on in the first place. Once again, her yellow-lit eyes turned around to the frog, and she eyed him with such scrutiny that he felt as if she had him down so exactly that she'd be able to have a suit tailored for him with his exact measurements over a phone call. Who knew? She might even have been able to actually do that.
   The frog was her backup.
   Assessing her situation, likely up against something utterly insane and in a castle which she obviously could not navigate, and with things this bad within an hour of arriving, and probably only about to get worse... and this thing for help, Elyse suddenly felt a twinging note of fear enter her mind.
   'I said that I will not be confined to this room!' she snapped, suddenly, and the door shut with a hard slam behind Jeremiah, apparently all by itself. Turning around, Elyse walked over to the bed, placing a hand and leaning on one of the bottom posts and glaring out a window. There was always that. She could probably smash her way out in a rather graceless exit, but was that even wise to do? There was that damnable uncertainty to exactly everything right now, and she could not get her head straight around it. And she was loath to wait things out, much less rest when she wasn't sure what might happen. Heaven forbid that she actually sleep - an old habit that she had not been able to completely shake - in that room when there was the risk of something sneaking up on her.
   'I have to know what is happening. I should not have come here, but now that I'm in I must know what is happening,' she said with a hardness to her voice. Then she glared back at Jeremiah.

[Boog]

Jeremiah returned her appraising look with a sort of lazy wariness in his eyes. She's sizing me up. Or she's a crazy person. Both are options.
"That," The frog replied dryly, his only regard for the slamming door being a slight wince, "Would make two of us." He stretched out in the chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyelids gently. He was at his coolest when he had to work with someone who was freaking out. He didn't know why, it was probably some spite-related motive. "Furthermore," he continued, ticking it off on his fingers, "Nobody mentioned confining you anywhere. After all, I need you to show me where this room was." After all, need some proof that you're not just on something more potent than I am.

[Azlan]

The Kiet vixen raised an eyebrow as she was asked if she knew how to use it, if she did not before then now she did thanks to the flashes of insight from the shopkeeper.

"yes, yes I do."  Seizing that moment, she reached out and grabbed the gun, cleared the chamber, loaded the empty clip, cocked it and swung to face the door while depressing the trigger, "bang."

Pointing it downward, she secured the safety and ejected the magazine before placing it back on the table where it was grabbed from.

"I am aware of the maintenance, cleaning and loading of the... magazine, as well as safety and etiquette with firearms."  She said, watching each action in the badger's mind as she spoke it.  "I'll take it."  The vixen stated with a wry smile, "cleaning kit too."

The purchase took much of the sack of gold, but Kiet was not concerned, he had lots of petty cash around. 

"thank you very much for the this, it will be a very valuable tool.  I must bid you adieu, I have taken up enough of your time today.  Fair thee well."  Collecting the items, she gave a proper bow for a lady of station and exited through the same door she had entered.

Kiet slipped the ammo and spare clips into a small portable extra-dimensional space.  He was so curious in the power of the weapon, that he made his way out of the town to an unoccupied field.  The field was surrounded by a low evergreen forest and was up a small hill.

Slowly he loaded the clip bullet by bullet, until it was full.  When finally he finished, Kiet inserts the clip, pulls back the slide, and takes aim at a tree.  The ringtail releases the safety and pulls the trigger, hoping for something interesting...

[Cogidubnus]

 Time froze for a moment.

Snow swirled around Kiet as the hammer snapped forward, slamming into the back of the bullet and igniting a chain of events that would lead to the utter destruction of whatever was on the other end of that incredible piece of machinery. The top half of the gun slid back as the bullet fired, and an explosion lit the forest for just a fraction of a second. A deafening roar echoed through the trees as the bullet flew towards the trunk, and with the incredible force driving the shot, and the enchantment on the bullet, blew half of it clean off.

Kiet, however, having never fired a gun before, was unprepared for what was mildly put as tremendously ridiculous recoil. It was by no means beyond a Creature's capacity to use, if they were prepared for it. But Kiet only had a split-second to react before the back of the gun slammed into his forehead, and as he fell to the forest's snowy floor, everything went black.

In the distance, on top of a hill overlooking where the ringtail had tested out the firearm, something moved. Silver sparkled in the moonlight as the darkly dressed stranger walked away, towards the direction of the castle in the distance.

* * *

The more Horatio drank, the more he realized that if he tried to keep up with the Kithara adventurer, he'd probably end up passed out on the floor before she got weak in the knees. Unless he cheated, of course, but that seemed ungentlemanly.
He settled for a compromise. Vibrant and jocular as she was, she didn't notice that his glass stopped getting empty after awhile, although he would touch it to his lips now and again.

He'd heard worse stories from Brunhilda, but she definitely took the cake as far as dark irony was concerned. He, for one, hadn't known that brandy could be blessed like water, nor that vampires could be tricked into drinking it in a dinner engagement.
As she continued on, drinking, talking, making the fox both laugh (sometimes with incredulity and horror more than humor) and cringe (sometimes with genuine pity), he yet found himself listening less and less to what she was saying, and simply watching her talk. Perhaps it was the buzz - the stuff he'd gotten wasn't meant to be drunk by the glass - or perhaps it was the lioness, but when the conversation paused for a moment while Andrace took a breath and a drink, he set his glass down and leaned forward over the table, and without preamble kissed her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got a twisted sense of humor, Ms. Kithara?" he said, green eyes sparkling. "And that you are also, very, very beautiful."

* * *

LL snuggled further into her bed, drink in one hand, magazine in the other, and Walter sitting obediently by a chair at her side. She took another gulp off the highball and handed it to the waiting dragon, who sighed with feudal obedience and refilled it for her. It smoked for a moment before she brought it back to her lips, only draining some of it this time.
"I swear to god, Walter." she said, flipping a page of the magazine. "If it's not one damn thing it's another." she said. She paused and blinked a few times too, and then looked sharply to the side. Walter nodded obediently.
"Without question, madam." he said. The look on his face spoke of the longsuffering one sometimes heard of in great saints, and those who donate blood in their spare time.

"Where the hell is Melodie, anyway. I'm not that horrible to be around, am I?" she muttered under her breath. "You raise them from barely more than a hatchling, save them from a life of misery and distaste, and they run off to eat lemon scones when you're not looking. Don't think I don't know what she's doing!" she said sharply. She sighed again.

Draining the glass, she handed it to her waiting attendant. Another full glass was in her hand shortly. "I needed her though, Walter." she paused. "She's young, but she's not stupid. She might..."
She paused, and looked at Walter. She took a drink, and stopped speaking, looking again at her magazine. It appeared to be a ladies fashion magazine from a few centuries ago. The selection of bodices was eclectic, although tasteful. She suddenly started giggling.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe violet?" she said, holding the magazine up to Walter. He sniffed once.
"An adventuresome choice, madam." he said. "I would not recommend it."

"You're an old fogey, Walter, and you know it." she said. "I think I would look quite pretty in it, don't you?" she said. She smiled, something probably a product of the high stress and the disturbingly high alcohol content of her highball glass. Walter coughed.

"I think Madam would look pretty with whatever she chooses, madam." he said, looking aloof. She threw the magazine at him, snickering.
"Oh, get out. Fill the glass before you go", she said, putting it on the nightstand, and grabbing another periodical from the pile beside her. She snuggled in her dragon-motif pajamas, white cotton with little blue dragons flying happily around all over it. Walter filled the glass obediently, and with a thankful look to the heavens, left the room.

* * *

Hours passed.

At approximately 7:35 AM, the sun rose on the day of February the 2nd.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim lay in bed, early morning, semi-sleeping peacefully, and listening to the belltower ring the hours.

*bong-bong* one. *pause* *bong-bong* two. *pause* *bong-bong* three. *pause* *bong-bong* four. *pause* *bong-bong* five. *pause* *bong-bong* six. *pause* *bong-bong* seven. Probably time to get up. *bong-bong* eight? Already? *bong-bong* Nine? What the? *bong-bong* No. No, oh god, no. *bong-bong* She bounced out from under the covers, and searched frantically for the dressing gown. *bong-bong* Wrapping herself, she almost flew to the balcony doors, and threw them open, racing outside. *bong-bong*

Once outside, she could see across town, Rover, having woken up early, standing against the bell tower. With one claw poking into it, tapping on the bell. *bong-bong* He smiled happily, waiting for the ringing peal to fade before striking the bell a quick double-tap again. *bong-bong*

Tims' face fell. She put one paw to her forehead, and heaved a deep, heartfelt sigh.

"ROVER!" His head turned at her frantic cry, and he smiled at her, then pushed off the tower, accidentally ringing the bell one more time, as he spun and bounded back across town to the hotel. He dented the street out the front, and put both paws against the hotel in order to reach up and lick Tim. "Bell! Fun! he announced, in tones loud enough to wake the poor night guard at the front desk.

"Yes, Rover. Fun, but no more. Okay?" Plaintively.

"Awww. Okay."

"Good boy. Watch the box, okay?"

"Okay." Rover promptly dropped, turned, and padded back to the now somewhat worse for wear stables, whereupon he threw himself back down onto the pile of straw, and, slightly sulkily, started staring at the container.

Tim watched him settle down, then went back inside to get dressed, and then organised, for the day. After all, one needed to show up looking reasonably good, but one didn't need to wear the mask yet, did one?


... Surely not. And it'd take a crane, or a lot of luck, to get Rover into _his_ outfit without help...

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace opened one eye as the first rays of the sun came in through the window and across her face. She threw the blankets back, rolled out of bed, stood up and stretched. It was quite a production of a stretch, arching her back, rolling her neck and shoulders, and curling her tail into a tight loop. She yawned cavernously, displaying a mouthful of impressively large fangs. As she did, she happened to look up. And paused.

"Now, how did that happen?" she muttered. "Could've sworn it went thataway..." The lioness reached up. Nope. She stood on tip-toe, bouncing, stretching her arm up... not quite. She rummaged among the pile of clothes on a nearby chair, picked up her bra, jumped and took an overhand swipe. The pair of trousers hooked over the chandelier flew off, sailed towards the bed, and landed right on Horatio's muzzle.

[Azlan]

For a split second, the power of the handheld artillery piece completely throttled all his senses and simultaneously triggered every pleasure center in his mind tied to big, violent , loud and ostentatious things.  This elation came to a sudden halt as the weapon connected with his forehead.  The explosion of stars and the sudden darkness of unconsciousness was somehow fitting accompaniment to the titanic weapon display.  

Still disguised as the countess, Kiet sprawled out on the ground in front of a tall tree.  The colossal weapons fire had scared off nearly every piece of hostile wildlife.

Inside his head the ringtail's dream, a first in many thousands of years, swirled as a mass of chaos.  This was possibly due to the head trauma, as rarely are such things born of a healthy mind.  The land was filled with red mist, images of an old dragoness, vicious lionesses, towering griffins, soldiers, bats, insectis and all manner of beings twirled about cackling like hags.  All bore masks of some type, except for him.  Something brushed his foot and the ringtail tentatively looked down and at his foot sat a solid white mask with a crack...


Sometime in the middle of the night...


Kiet, still appearing as a female fox noble, bolted to his footpaws.  The sudden movement caused his head to spin and the poor cubi was dreadfully dizzy with a spot of a leviathan sized headache.  His staggering was to the level of an Olympic event, especially considering that he held one of the most powerful firearms in his left hand.  To no one in particular the hyper feline chattered a staccato blast of words, "ohwowwowwowwhatanamazingweaponineverseenanythinglikeithowcoolisthat..."  Kiet took a breath, "cannotthinkwhatwouldbebetterheavenheaveniminheaven..." His face contorted in pain, "ohugherrruhnhmyheadowwwit hurtstheworldispinning..."  He shrugged it off, "igottagetbackandshowthistocami!"

He dizzily spun around and half made an attempt to run, but instead his head smacked into a low branch sending him off once again into the void of unconsciousness.  Let this be a lesson to you children, do not try to run through forests in the pitch blackness of night.


Somewhere around 7:05am...


Kiet groaned and tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy.  With the will of an eternal soldier, he cracked the ebony and crimson void, allowing a tiny bit of white to violate the nothingness.

Blinking multiple times, the ringtail was instantly pounced by the vicious kitten of agony as thousands of insectis began hammering in his head.  His hand gingerly fluttered to his forehead by way of his cheek and muzzle.  Just the briefest of touches sent tendrils of pain through his brain and his fingers came back bloodied.

He turned his head to the side and spied a small pool of blood next to it.  He was bleeding, had been all night and morning, that can't be good.

I probably have a concussion...  He looked at the magnificent firearm in his left hand, I remember firing this... wow its amazing... I got clobbered in the head because of the recoil... I woke up, ran into something... k, that's clear... but who am I?

The poor fellow looked at himself and found he was a she, but everytime he considered himself in his mind, there was a definite masculine pronouncement.

Wait, am I a lesbian then... er, no that's not what that... this means... I think...  Confused, he tried to sit up, but collapsed back as a wave of pain and dizziness assaulted him.  As he waited for it to pass, who he was and what he was doing slowly leaked back in.

Right, I'm Ink... er no, Kiet... cubi... shapechanger... disguised...

He slipped the gun into its "holster" and drew the vixen's trenchcoat around him.  After a few tries, he managed to get to the vixen's feet, and began staggering towards the town.  

After half an hour of staggering, first through woods, then through town and weathering the horrible clatter from the bell tower, he reached the hotel.

The vixen pushed open the doors, headed up the stairs and just before the door to his room, he resumed his normal appearance.  

He was greeted by a furious Camiole, who's anger quickly boiled away as the injured cubi staggered in, "by the gods Kiet!  What happened to you???!  Assassins?  Rivals?"

"gun recoil and then tree branch... but wow, this gun is amazing."

Camiole shook her head and sat him down in the chair, the other two attendants checked the door and windows just in case some assailant was lurking about.

The clouded leopard dressed the cut on his forehead and bandaged it, smacking his cheeks a bit to keep him awake.

[e_voyager]

Aten stifles a yarn. he'd broken into the library almost 2 hours ago and still hand not found what he was looking for. well perhaps broken in was a bit of a stretch because form some reason when he laid his hand on the door to test it for alarms it had swung open. even so the information he sought was proving to be a hard fine

[Stygian]

For an uncomfortably long time, the bat stood there, just gazing out the window and thinking, inwardly posing the scenario to herself and making her decisions. Jeremiah's opinion clearly counted for little to her at the moment. There was silence, though naturally, before any sort of peace could settle, the frog's voices were there to bother.
   'It's too much with the seven of us in here,' she said, at last. She turned toward Jeremiah with a blank expression, and a firmness that was quite enough to make the amphibian feel as if pressed to the back of his chair. 'I'm going to ask you to leave. Return in the morning, by noon. Then, we'll talk.'
   Forced composure now having completely broken through whatever shreds of hesitation were left, Elyse seemed unnaturally still. Her mind was mostly on her bags, plainly within sight. She had come far from unprepared, after all. And she would simply have to hope that events didn't transpire so quickly that she were completely lost.

[Boog]

Jeremiah kept his cool, outwardly. Inwardly he was wondering what the HELL he'd gotten involved in, but outwardly aforementioned cool was completely kept. He stood up at attention, bowed once, and exited...

--

The frog didn't sleep well that night. Arguments with his personae faded into most troubling dreams...
Fire. People. People of fire, fire in their skulls. Questions? Panic! Bats and badgers. Fear! Things fading away. Fear. Fear...

--

Jeremiah woke up, stretched, and fell out of his hammock with an undignified "THWUD." He glanced at his watch. 7:32.
We are LATE. We can't afford to lose this job, sir!
Oh yes we can! Remember the bat-woman?
We don't know anything about that yet.
EXACTLY! We-
The frog shuffled his way to the kitchens. If he was lucky, the cook who liked him would let him flirt with her for coffee...

[Aisha deCabre]

After Rynkura made it to her room in the night, perhaps rather early for it being after dinner, it wasn't too hard for her to find the motivation to fall asleep.  The Healer had mastered that old discipline long before she was even old enough to hold a sword; the one about an early sleep leading to an early rise.

She closed her door and simply sat there in the quiet and a soft lighting for a moment, in a more or less meditative state.  Her mind however was filled with all sorts of thoughts.  Perhaps a little bit of wonder as to what the Ball was about.  And the mystery of the invitations...sure, she was of a noble lineage, but over 900 years past so with no descendants.  Was a middle-aged-looking woman, head of a monastery, secretly an angel, worthy of the event?

I suppose it will all be figured out later.  And if not, who's to say I may not enjoy myself in the process? the white tiger thought as sleepiness crept across her mind and made its suggestions to dream about it.

Thus she did.

*     *     *

She awoke when the sun hit her eyes at half-past seven in the morning, in gentle streams through the window.  So, her dreams weren't that eventful, but they weren't in any way malicious either.  No decisive answers.

This would be the night, then, Rynkura hummed as she wasted no time, stepping out of the bed and got herself dressed, all the while keeping her eye on the views on the windowpane.  The room was large enough that she also practiced a few movements of exercise with her staff, parrying and thrusting through the air against an imaginary enemy.

After a few moments of training to awaken her focus, the Healer paused before the wardrobe where she stowed the dress and mask she chose for the evening, a mix of modern and classic style all in her favorite color of dark emerald.  She regarded it with only a thoughtful narrowing of the eyes before heading through the door and looking around, listening for any others awake as she leisurely walked downstairs.

What to have for breakfast then...?

[Cogidubnus]

 A sleepy little village like Damaske was normally just that - a sleepy little village. People rose early, and started slowly, walking to their places of work a few hours after dawn with warm drinks in hand, and wrapped snugly from head to toe.

Approximately ten bells into the morning, one might have observed more than a few residents openings doors in disbelief, and then at the early dawn light narrowing their eyes. At the thirteenth bell, a various chorus of slamming doors might have been heard from any streetcorner in town. The chorus of profanities, however, was mostly muttered under breath, and quite silently.

Things were off to a bad morning, but the day was still young. The town began to prepare itself for the day, and before long, the first of the carriages had arrived in front of the hotel, the drivers drinking alternatively from flasks at their hips, and from steaming mugs at their side.

* * *

Horatio's eyes snapped open, and quickly crossed to look down and find a pair of slacks hanging from his nose. He paused for a moment, as if trying to recall where he was, when he saw Andrace getting herself dressed. He blinked, and grinned to himself, and with only a bit of a groan got up himself. He started hopping into the pants.
"Good morning." he said, smiling.

He plucked his shirt from the overhead fan. "I didn't hear an alarm go off. Do you g-"

At that moment, the belltower began to ring out the time. He paused, and continued on. "I suppose I'm not surprised, but I take it you are a morning person, Ms-....Andrace." he said. He rubbed the back of his head, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, it's habit."

As the belltower started ringing past nine and ten, however, he began to pause, looking out the window oddly, and when it passed twelve and into thirteen he shook his head and snorted. He headed for the kitchen, intending on seeing if the fridges were stocked with any sort of breakfasting food.

It was about ten minutes later, when he was making pancakes with batter he found in the back of one of the cabinets, that the door fairly reverberated with three precise knocks.

* * *

The servants quarters were fairly alive with hustle and bustle, as they were every morning - Jeremiah certainly couldn't see anything out of place, and the bat's story from last night seemed practically impossible. It was routine - or at least as close as it got to routine on a day like this. Panic was in the air, but as he could smell, so was coffee.

Sharon was a horned toad that lifted weights in her spare time, and was generally quiet and unobtrusive to most everyone that met her. She'd given Jeremiah a cup of coffee, once, and like a salesman with his foot in the door, that was all that it took.

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace fastened the tail-fly on her trousers, turned and looked at Horatio with her hands on her hips and a mock-stern expression. "An' I s'pose y're th' sort o' layabout that likes t' stay in bed an extra ten minutes after dawn? Takes work t' keep in condition like this, y' know." She struck a pose and tensed her body, making every muscle — and a few scars in interesting places — stand out clearly. The lioness sniffed disdainfully as Horatio finally got out of bed. She picked up her bra and shirt and headed for the bathroom.

"I got three lazy little sisters, r'member," Andrace's voice came from the bathroom accompanied by various washing and fang-brushing noises, "so I know all th' tricks. Ah... is that belltower runnin' a bit fast? Eugenia was th' worst, but even she got it int' her thick skull in th' end... after I picked her up an' tossed her out o' th' bedroom window. 'Course, it only worked th' once, th' second time 'Genie enjoyed fallin' thirty feet, bouncin' off th' sun canopy, an' landin' in th' swimmin' pool. So, th' next time, I drained th' pool... an' held on t' her tail when I dropped her."

The smell of pancakes finally brought Andrace out of the bathroom, fully dressed apart from her leather jerkin, with a small bundle wrapped in a towel in her hand. "Mmm, that smells good. Just have a quick bite now, an' then — place as fancy as this has t' have a big fancy gym — I'll have m' mornin' workout there, an' see 'bout catchin' some breakfast after..." The lioness suddenly stopped, her ears erect and pointing towards the door. She tensed, and although she appeared completely unarmed, there had to be a weapon of some kind very close to her right hand. Her eyes narrowed as someone knocked on the door. She glanced at Horatio and whispered, "Were y' expectin' an early call?"

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel sat in the living area of her grandmother's suite, casting nervous glances towards the bedroom door. The enthusiastic bellringer had her awake early and she had decided to get the lecture that was waiting for her done quickly. So here she was left sitting, smoothing and resmoothing the skirt of her sensible cranberry wool morning dress and sniffing the interesting smells coming from the dining area where Walter was supervising breakfast being laid out. As she looked longingly at the array of food she hoped that her grandmother would decide that her instructions on the proper behavior of young dragons would be given at the table. And that grandmother wouldn't take too long getting ready for the day.

[Yugo]

The morning was cool and snowbound, the train rumbling along the tracks, northbound for the town of Damaske. Cottony mist hung over snow-covered farmland and plains, pierced by the twinkling orange rays that splayed out from the horizon. Winter mornings here had a distinct beauty to them, even without the beautiful flowers and trees that might normally accompany them. Esme was in a foul mood. She was alone in her room, one of the few remaining passengers on the train, staring out the window but comprehending little of it. Her mind was still fixated on the events of the past few days. Prior to her departure and reception she had made sure to inspect the main medical stations in the Belgaen capital, and had left respectable junior officers in charge. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a niggling doubt in her mind with regards to the status of her responsibilities. The day, like most days in Belgae now, had its passing dramas, and she had been there to provide support to those who needed it. By the time she had boarded her train, she was practically asleep on her feet from fatigue. As if to add insult to injury, the locomotive had promptly broken down just a few minutes into her trip. The engineers had told the passengers that they lacked the parts for an immediate fix, and that they could still walk back to the station for a refund. Esme had decided to sleep through it anyways. After the ordeals of the revolution, she had needed rest. And so now the train was a day late, much to Esme's dismay. Although she lacked any prestige (which continually baffled her regarding her invitation) she was not particularly keen on being late to a ball as renowned as the Scarlet Masque.

Now, Esme was reviewing medical charts and statistics, smoothing out her coat. It was a compulsive tick, there to pass the time if nothing else. The mist outside was beginning to dissipate, giving way to the brilliant sunlight that now glared through the window, the polished brass buttons of her double-breasted coat gleaming and twinkling. She was a thinly built lynx, clad in a simple black frock-coat and similar pants, thin square spectacles hanging off of her face. Her black hair was cut short and manageable, forming a neat crown over her head and matching her grey and black fur nicely. The graphs and tables themselves, laid out messily before her, were a foreboding reminder of where she would return after the fun and merriment. There were thousands of casualties in the capital alone, both of the famine and the war, and supplies were rapidly dwindling. It wouldn't be long before there were no healers left to help, and no people left to heal. The revolution was going to chew them all up, bit by bit, and spit them out messily, with nothing recognizable left in the entire nation. It was a grim, sobering thought.

Esme was snapped out of her dark train of thought by the squeal of brakes. The conductor announced their arrival, and Esme stood to her feet with a groan, beginning to pack her papers and other such things into a small leather bag. It was good to stand and walk again. Stretching, she tossed the now full bag over her shoulder with one hand, grasping a suitcase quite firmly in the other, and made her way to the doors as the train came to a final stop. Her breath formed into an opaque mist as she stepped onto the platform, reminding her of the season. The cold was bitter, snapping at her bones and blood with its chill bite. Esme cast her gaze about her, looking for a waiting transport or escort.

[Azlan]

It had been quite some time since Kiet had considered sleeping, but due to his recent head trauma, he felt very tired.  Camiole did not seem to want him to do that, she kept shaking and proding him everytime she caught him trying to nod off.  Kiet knew it wasn't a good idea either, but something in his injured head didn't care.

Cami shoved a steaming cup of extremely black coffee into Kiet's hand and tapped her foot as her tail whipped back and forth.  Begrudgingly he sipped at it, the strength was immense, and its special blend woke him up for sure.  The coffee, however made his head throb more.

"now pay attention Kiet, guests are expected to show up at noon, where there will be a wine and cheese reception with an art show until around Five in the evening.  At Five the guests are expected to begin changing for the ball, and at Six the ball will start.  The reception is optional, and you may want to skip it."  Camiole stated as she reviewed the day's itinerary.

"I dunno, I think it would be smashing to mingle a bit."  The ringtail replied as he struggled to finish off the concentrated ichor of the coffee bean.

The youngest of the three retainers, a raccoon incubus of reverse coloration (black fur, grey stripes and mask), approached.  "I am ready to mend his wound, but I cannot heal the trauma inside.  Such magic is difficult and I did not come prepared for such.  Hold still master Kiet."

"Jayce, I appreciate this, but the last time you tried healing, my spleen ruptured..."  Kiet murmured.

Cami patted him on the shoulder and affirmed, "he has gotten much better since then, plus we were able to fix you back up then."

Despite his misgivings, the healing went well and the gash was gone, he still felt foggy headed and dizzy at times, but with time and care he would heal.

[Cogidubnus]

 As Kiet tried to numb the pain gently throbbing in his skull, he heard the door knock, and someone from his retinue rose to go see who it was. Moments later one of the hotel staff was let into the room, making a short bow to the ringtail.
"Ah, delivery for you, sir." he said, nodding shortly. "One of the cab drivers dropped it off here. Said that a man in black told him to take it to a Kiet Ti'Pallo."

The man set an ice pack down next to he Cubi, and excused himself.

* * *

The station was mostly deserted, and except for the few of her fellow passengers on board, Esme found herself quite alone. A fine, light snow was falling, and compared with the only moderate warmth of the train, the outside air was absolutely freezing.

She didn't spot any kind of motorized transportation, but from where she was standing, she could see the castle from far in the distance. Two rickshaws were at the station currently, but they seemed to be nearly leaving, as though they had somewhere else to be.

* * *

Horatio looking at the door with an half-bemused expression, and without removing the pancake from the pan cut off a bit from his fork and stuck it in his mouth. He shook his head.
"Ah...yes. I suppose I was." he said, clearly not saying as much as he could. He put the rest of the pancakes on a plate and up on the counter for Andrace, and started to button his shirt. "My supervisor." he said, collecting his coat, and briefly trying to make himself look presentable. A few fluffs later, a bit of slicking his hair, and he looked terrible, like he hadn't had a shower yet and needed a change of clothes.

"At least she knocked! Sometimes the door can't handle it, though..."

The door reverberated again, three more knocks this time. "I can hear you in there, you bastard! Get out here!"
Horatio sighed, putting his sunglasses on. The effect was somewhat lost without his generally sharp look, making him look more ridiculous than intimidating. He muttered under his breath, fastening his cuff links.

"I had a very nice time, Ms...Andrace." he said, suppressing a smile. "I think I'm about to be reassigned, however. Hopefully I'll see you later tonight, the entire entourage will be at the ball."
He walked up quickly to the door, and put his hand on the chain lock - and waved goodbye to Andrace. He slid the lock open, undid the deadbolt, and opened the door.

A dragoness about a head and a half shorter than Horatio was fuming on the other side, chomping on an unlit cigar. Although she was shorter than the fox, she was also built - the sort of person that gave the impression of being as wide as they were tall. She had a massive pair of...sunglasses, as well - if Andrace wasn't mistaken, set with Rhinestones also. They seemed to be oversized for her.
"Where the hell have you been!" she shouted, poking the fox in the chest. The cigar compressed in her mouth.

"Well, Brunhilda, I was doing as the mistress ordered. Watching the..."
Brunhilda spat, thankfully on a spot of carpet not inside her room. "Oh, sneaky bastard! You never reported in, you fuck, the mistress was this close to hearing about it." She grabbed his tie, pulling him out of the apartment, whilst somehow simultaneously kicking his shins.

Then, the door slammed.

* * *

To her surprise, grandmother seemed ready for the day rather early. She wasn't in her formal gown yet, which surprised the younger dragon - generally grandma liked to wear fancier garb at any excuse, although she would balk at the suggestion of vanity.

"Mel! I'm delighted you could join us." she said, with only a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Her demeanor bespoke more anger than in her tone, however, her eyes passing over the younger dragon briefly before heading for the dining room. "I'll have you know I had a lovely time without you."

The dining room was very plain, a small, rectangular table covered in a white cloth, and laid out with a few light dishes. Sliced ham, a cheese plate, some yogurt, a nice selection of slaty quartz, and a bowl of fruit seemed to be breakfast for the morning.