The windows have been covered by sheets of fabric painted with skeletal trees and trees in full leaf and flower, spring landscapes and wintry blanks. The host is man in a dark mirrormask shaped into a raven's bleak beak, and he perches against the wall near the door, the beak's point following every new entry.

"Welcome," he says, for it is time to make welcome. "Welcome to the Grayhope masquerade. Our guests of honor are Magpie and Mae Grayhope, two clever and enthusiastic young people. Magpie, an immensely talented entrepreneur, Mae, a gravely talented artist as well as messenger. Purpose of a masquerade is to mysteriously mingle, but I'll be announcing couple of little activities in their honor once folk have settled." He draws a small bow toward the general ballroom.

"For now, please. Mysteriously mingle. Look for the raven if you need anything."

Someone wearing A mask of sears says, "Spooky!"

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing A mask of sears flits over to the window hangings to look them over, hands clasped behind her back. Mhm, mhm, trees.

Perched sitting on one of the smaller tables, the man in the magpie mask waves to people as they arrive, grinning widely and looking to already be thoroughly enjoying himself. "Come on in, everyone! Please! Welcome! Grab a party favor if you haven't!" He points to the table with the favors. Then he gazes around, "Now where.. is... my wife.. hmm."

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask's dressed in white silk that's only adornment is green tempered steel scales. She moves very, very carefully. Every motion is done with caution and perhaps a touch of fear. She slips through the gathered be'masked folks.


    A Stark Snowscape of a mask wearing gentleman steps into the ballroom. Quiet, he looks around the sea of masked faces. He carries a mandolin, and what skin is visible through his well made, but unremarkable clothing, is dark and in stark contrast to the snow-white of his mask.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask strolls among the tables and among the partygoers, as subtle as he ever is anywhere. The broad grin of his skull-face is matched by the amiable good nature of his, "Evening to you! Evening!" pitched hither and thither as he wanders around.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask doesn't look particularly mysterious. That is: he has a mask, yes, but he seems a lot blither and brighter than the ~mystery~ of a masquerade calls for. He's probably disappointing the host already. He stops near one of the smaller tables where the man in the magpie mask sits.

"Terribly spooky," says the mirrormasked raven gravely. He skirts around the hangings near the door. His attention moves to the mask of sears with a light, "I hope you enjoy the trees. They lend ambience." Then his attention moves to green and white flower with a careful, "Are you quite all right? Quite safe here. Just mood. It's all just mood."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask bursts through the doors, panting from having ran all the way here. The little bat is just a flurry of dark grey silk, which falls about her form in lovely cascades as she stops her sprint to look around. The way she's looking left and right, well, one might assume the bat thinks she's late! Of course, for having rushed here, she sure doesn't seem to have a destination, now that she's here! ... Everyone's in masks!

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask had arrived early enough to hear the opening speeches, though she, dressed in white and downing the mask of a snowfall upon her face, lingers at the perimeters of the gathering for now, as people begin to make their way in. Each person who walks past her field of vision gets a gaze, eyes taking in their own masks, appreciating the art of it all.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing A mask of sears nods thoughtfully, so conveyed despite her mask by fingertips touching her chin. A thoughtful nod, indeed. "Trees usually do. It's more concerning when they start offering opinions." There's only so much art to be appreciated on window-hangings, though, and she soon turns to wander out onto the polished floor, blossom-strewn skirts swishing between chairs and tables and people as the petite figure goes.

Who has two thumbs and a simple painted black mask with a big grin on it? This guy! in he walks, looking about with dark eyes peering through the eyeholes of the mask and a long body length coat in a color scheme to match his mask.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask collects a party favor more or less at random, and then swings by the table with the magpie mask and the wolf mask, humming cheerfully beneath his breath. His eyes track a few figuers as he moves but it's hard to tell when he's actually smiling and he's just wearing a grinning skull at people. The walking dead are occasionally difficult to read.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask peers about the room, dressed in midnight silk, hands fidgeting as she clasps them before her. Her hair is sleek and black, spilling down the center of her back, and she runs a free hand over the curve of her hip. The gems below her eyes dangle as she moves, blue topazes that catch the light like large, swollen tears.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask strides in, dressed in leather and fur to match her mask. She takes a moment to pause, look around, and get the measure of the room. The snowflake and bat get a chipper little nod. Hello! And then she ventures into the party proper.

Someone wearing mask of winter has joined the a small round table.

Someone wearing mask of autumn steps into the ballroom with the rolling gait of someone more used to the shifting deck of a ship than the solid floor of a ballroom. She wears the mask but does little else to hide herself, wearing her usual outfit of fitted white shirt with billowing sleeves and kraken embroidery under a red and black vest that ends just below her hips where a pair of simple, black leather leggings pick up, tucking into knee-high boots. Moving around the room, she nods to folks here and there but seems content to simply watch for the moment.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask's every step is slow and patient, though there's enough easy in her slim figure to make plain it is neither nerves or discomfort which inspires that pace. Given how the front of her mask seems completely solid with no means of seeing, one might guess that she's listening, feeling, making her way through the crowd and into the ballroom entirely blind. Yet, once over the threshhold, she casts a smile aside, in the direction of the raven-host, a cordial gesture which slows her no further as she continues on, drifting and listening.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask enters the magnificent ballroom, looking unmasked but definitely still masked. Her gown is of ebon silk and dangerously cut, and she pauses a moment to look at the revelry with appreciation in her green eyes.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask steps into the ballroom, leather boots thudding heavily on the flooring. His darkened eyes scan the room, flickering from masked face to masked face, a more intense look given to a few in the crowd before he finds himself a spot where he can stand and watch for the moment.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask has joined the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask has joined the a small round table.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask slips over to one of the round tables, and very carefully sits down. Adjusting the sleeves of her silk tunic as she does. Green eyes flick out from behind a green mask and she glances around.

Someone wearing The Harlequin walks in in the midst of a tightrope only they can perceive; one foot is placed directly in front of the other, arms folded at the small of his back. He keeps his mask, and supposed gaze, forward with a stubbornly grotesque chesire's grin. The tightrope brings him pause just shy of the fellow with the wide grin, toothy mask. This gets a flourished flick of the wrist, indicative brush of the fingers against his own smile before bowing to the other man. Why, he even doffs an imaginary cap to sweep against the ground.


    Quietly, the Man in the Mask of Winter passes by the party favor table and picks up a party favor. He then, with well practiced grace, makes his way to a small round table and quietly glides up to it. He places his party favor, and his mandolin on the table and looks quietly to the someone near by in the mask of green and white flowers.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta tracks the movement of masks among masks loosely. Once in a while he bows to no one in particular. As the ballroom begins to fill, he sets up easel and canvas atop it. A tall canvas, broadly blank. "Take a seat," is general. "Make a friend, or an enemy, if you like. In a moment, I will be announcing a couple of games much improved if you're exploring your floor-mates."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask continues to look around, ever so slowly. No one can see the way she frets. Where's her... why are there so many birds... but, oh! There it is! With the blue. The little bat starts to drift over towards one bird in particular.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask walks in to the ballroom proper, carefully measured steps, one hand along the wall. Dark eyes flit from person to person, curious about these masked folks, trying to guess but more interested in the many interactions, the social dance of mystery and disguises.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask has left the A simple square table, not too cozy.

"Wife wife wife... I'm over heeeere..." The magpie calls out cheerfully, still sitting perched on that small table. He reaches to snag up a drink, sipping from it as she seems to find him just at the same time. "Hey wife." He says with a wide grin, offering the drink to her while snickering at the words of someone at the table. "It is, my wolfy friend. It is."

Someone wearing A mask of sears pauses in the middle of the tables, tilting a curious look at the man with his easel, and his dark raven mask. "I haven't been to a masquerade in ages," she murmurs, mostly to herself. "Games, and not dancing? No duels of weaves? Hm. Maybe a drink."

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask peels away from one of the smaller tables, glancing over at the stygian raven for a moment when he makes another announcement, but he's slipping over to the woman in the mask of sears. He draws up to her side. "We could probably have a duel if you wanted," he offers, before adding something in a lower voice.

    A small figure wearing a mask of summer leaves - gold sunlight through green shadows - stepping into the ballroom. Wool and linen, not to fine as the silks in the room. It's appropriate. There is a drink to find and tidbits of food to acquire and revelers to study.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask must be someone's wife! On account of her going right over to the man summoning his wife. The little bat steps up to the Magpie, and leans in against him, and wraps her arms about his waist and squeezes. She turns her bejeweled false eyes upon the wolf. "Oh. Hi," she says.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask makes her way through the crowd of masks, that beautiful smile fixed in place on her mask, carrying two small bundles. She's headed for the magpie-masked man, and she weaves through the bodies with a brush here and a touch there.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask slouches momentarily against the wall, canting his head this way and that. There's a nod to the woman in the snowflake mask, before his eyes drift again, and settle upon the Weeping Woman. He pauses, before he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to the drinks, not very particular in the glass he catches and lifts to his lips to sip.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing a black full face mask paint with a toothy silver grin from ear to ear tracks the magpie and the bat for a moment before going to find a place to sit.

Someone wearing a black full face mask paint with a toothy silver grin from ear to ear has joined the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask echoes the term, "Floor-mates," quietly to herself, painted lips curling with some hint of amusement. Though her slow steps don't still, her drifting yet continuing, her head cants slightly in one direction then the next as if watching the crowd, though her eyeless mask only reflects it. More likely, she's listening.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta turns his long head toward sears. His face is hidden, of course, but there is a hint of smile under his voice. "Please, dance if you want to. I won't lead it, however. I dance like a crow and duel like a duck. We have some, ah," he glances over his shoulder, "nice young volunteers wandering around with alcohol. On plates. It's very fancy."

Someone wearing a rainbow chameleon mask has joined the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask has joined the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing mask of summer has joined the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask is beginning to smile, the bottom half of her mask revealing her face to just below her nose. So many beautiful masks. She admires the chameleon, the raven, the red-haired lady, the seasons, and especially the boar. It's almost like stepping into a favored book of illustrations.

Someone wearing A mask of sears beams up at wolf mask. It is obvious by the way she bounces on her toes, blossoms swish swishing. "Oh, no, that would hardly be fair! For you, I mean." She says to the much taller, much broader Wolf Mask. "What's the thing to do, here? Wait for games? I want to guest correctly." And thus, she diligently heeds Raven's suggestion and snags a drink off a passing, fancy plate.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask tested out a table, but found it not to her liking, and so, she stands instead. The way the mask is crafted leaves very little to hint at her true visage, but her eyes intensely track people near her. She catches the nod from the man wearing a tusked boar mask and nods in return, making her way over to the drinks as well. She takes one up in hand and lifts it under a small veil that hides the lower half of her face, taking a sip before lowering it once more.

Someone wearing mask of winter speaks quietly with his table mate, picking up his mandolin and begins to play. Its not even with though- its simply played for the sake of being played. As if it helped him think, or was as easy and as natural as breathing.

Someone wearing mask of winter checked charm + performance at difficulty 40, rolling 33 higher.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask has joined the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

"Nice to see you, sweetheart." The magpie reaches about the bat's waist to give it a squeeze. "I have no idea what the games are, I'm really curious. Fortunato put all of this together. Want me to get you anything to drink?" Oh, but there are people coming over to the table and he looks them over curiously.

Someone wearing mask of summer listens to the winter-mask playing the mandolin. If it's a recognizable tune, summer might sing along.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask looks over to the mirrormasked raven. "You're not /paying/ them?" he calls over all accusing-like. He looks back to Sears, and his smile is in his manner and stature, too, even if it's not visible on his face. "I guess it wouldn't be fair," he agrees. "Even if I /had/ brought my sword." He snags a drink, too. "Well, you've got the first part down, which is drink." He takes a swallow of his wine by way of example. "Then, since our /beloved host/ is putting together games, I'd just -- do the games. You know."

Someone wearing a rainbow chameleon mask slips in silently with the growing crowd, her height matching that of most men, though she doesn't slouch on her way to the table where she takes a seat, folding her legs at the knee and leaning back to observe.

Someone wearing The Harlequin rises up from his bow to watch the tooty grin walk away. There is an exaggerated shrug, a throwing up of the hands in mock surrender before he pivots sharply on his heel before he begins to walk that mimed tightrope again in search of the ever elusive wine.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask calls from his table, "Why, if you're inspired to dance, we could make a little noise. It's amazing the kind of dancing you can get going if you can get enough people to stomp and clap the rhythm to go with your tune." Then he returns his attention to his tablemates, cheery-bright.


    Unfortunately, Winter's Tune is a spur of the moment creation- just a train of thought in musical form. Beauteous tones that float on a phantom winter wind- cool and sparkling in the light with diamondesque iridescence.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta appends to sears, "The games are only frames. What I like to do is approach someone, such as--" He gestures at polished steel mask, "Excuse me, but your mask is so sinisterly blank, let's talk, or." He gestures at Harlequin, "Your mask is rather disturbing, surely you must be an interesting person. Then you make friends and never see each other again. It's terrific." That explanation given, however, the raven steps to the canvas to check it, slow-ramping toward an announcement.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask lifts his glass in faint salute to Snowflake as she comes to join him at the table, before he quietly takes to his liquor. There's another flick of a glance towards the woman in the Weeping mask, and he watches her for another moment before pushing his way over to her. "You look lost," his words are punctuated by a light chuckle, as he sips at his drink again, nodding over to the table where all the bottles are. "Or like you're in awe of something or somebody. The drinks are over there, if that's what you're seeking?"

    It's never an unfortunate thing to have winter's song be a spur of the moment creation. Summer appreciates it all the more for the ethereal quality; notes like a flurry of wind-blown snowflakes. Summer smiles, sips at her wine, and enjoys the music.

Someone wearing mask of autumn makes her way towards the Bat and Magpie to offer a quick bow, straightening up to offer, "Congratulations. This is a right fine party ya got goin'." With a brief smile sent their way, the tall woman swiftly moves aside to let the pair enjoy their evening. Seeking out the refreshments table, she claims herself a glass of something strong and starts looking around for an out of the way spot she can occupy.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask has that same painted-on smile, dark red. But from behind the mask, she offers a thrilled laugh. "Nothing in your teeth," because she just caught the tail end of that, and turns it into a curtsey to both the magpie and bat. "I come bearing congratulations, and gifts! More gifts than just this space you've transformed so marvelously!" A small vial is extended to the magpie, and a bottle to the bat, if they'll have it.

Someone wearing A mask of sears says, a touch sadly, "I have plenty of friends I never see again. But! This is wonderful." And to prove she means it, she also has some happy gulps of her procured drink. She's caught, then, by the effervescent notes of Winter's playing, body leaning that way like a flower towards the sun.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask lifts hers in return to the man in the tusked boar mask. "I hope you don't mind. It seemed as good a place as any to have a seat." He addresses the woman wearing the weeping midnight mask and her own eyes travel that way, curious.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask blinks in surprise at being addressed, the shorter woman looking up and up at he who spoke to her. At least. It sounds like a he. Her smile is bright and sudden, she gives him a curtsy. "I am ... overwhelmed!" she confesses, gesturing to the people that move about, the many costumes, even the beautiful snowflake-mask at the table he'd just walked from. "Everyone is so beautiful, it's ... yes. I am afraid I've never been to one of these before. And- ... there are drinks?" She turns towards where he points, topaz tears flickering as her head turns, black, silken-flat hair drifting.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask smiles to the Mask of Autumn. Not that it can be seen. Her eyes can't even be seen, behind that bright sheen. "Thank you!" she quips. Then her eyes turn to the Red-Haired Lady. She stares for a long moment, before, "... gifts?" The bat hesitates, but then takes the bottle. "Oh!"

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask's smile broadens beatifically beneath the polished steel arch hiding most of her face when the word 'sinister' is turned toward her. The raven's enthusiasm for making such fleeting friends, whether genuine or feigned, earns a breath of laughter, brief, gone too quickly. Fittingly. She murmurs something quietly as someone bearing drinks moves past, distracted, and they select something for her which she takes up with near-whispered gratitude.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask marches right up to the magpie's table and yells, "Magpie Grayhope!" Big smile on her face. "Or are you Magpie Culler now. Anyway. It is Esoka Greenblood. Hello." That was probably entirely obvious. Also, she's clearly rather bad at this whole masquerade thing. Not that she seems to care. "I wanted to say congratulations on your marriage. It is very merry news!" She looks about for this wife of his, perhaps to do more happy yelling at her.

Someone wearing The Harlequin turns to the stygian raven bauta and looks side to side, a jest of the gesture 'who me' writ clearly on the way he fans his fingers against his chest. "I rather detest that accusation, for I prefer to tarry far from sensation. But if you are to find me a person of interest, I will keep the mask, shed the blithest."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask calls right back at the lynx. "Magpie Culler!"

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask utters a low chuckle, eyes glimmering behind the mask with amusement. He looks Weeping over once more, a grin curling up the corners of his mouth. "I'll share a secret with you. I've never been to one of these either. But I like your mask," he comments, "Stunning workmanship." His attention drifts to the dangling teardrops of Weeping's mask, that grin brightening ever-so-subtly before he crooks out his arm to her. "Come. We'll people watch. I imagine Snowflake won't mind if another joins our table, it's pretty big. Plus, we'll be sitting near the drinks, and that's always a bonus at any party." He holds up his own cup in question, before draining it completely. "Besides, I'm dry and need another."

The magpie gives mask of autumn a bright smile, "Thanks! It's Fort's party. I just tossed in the party favors. No idea who you are, but enjoy yourself!" Then he gives the lynx a laugh, "No! I'm a Grayhope. Don't listen to her! And thank you. I would have invited everyone to the wedding but it was very spur of the moment."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta turns the corner of the canvas just so, glancing at polished steel and harlequin in turn. "One reacts with laughter and the other with demurral. Delightful. I shall corner you both after the announcement." Who can handle the suspense.

The raven finishes fiddling with his canvas to announce, again. "Two activities! Ongoing. Magpie, I couldn't possibly guess who he is tonight, has made a name for himself selling figurines and now you, you too can write up figurines of your own. Pick a stranger, friends, any stranger. Examine their masks, examine their manner. How'd you distill them into a little sculpture? Pick up a parchment from the Figurine Submission box and write 'em up.

"The other activity, if I may direct your attention." The raven gestures to a canvas propped against the wall. "It is an artwork in progress. We start with a blank canvas. I will set a line up here. You want to add a line to this canvas, step right up. At the end we will most like have a grand chaotic mess, but you can discern beauty in chaos, hm? It'll be fun while it lasts, at the least."

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask breathes a low laugh. "It's a good thing we're all so mysterious and unrecognizable," he says. He rises from his seat at the table, sketching an elaborate bow, and then says, "The wedding was what we would call /extemporaneous/. It was a surprise to everyone including its principals."

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask has to laugh. "Ah, thank you-" she says, only to pause as announcements begin. She follows the Boar to the table he left, beaming at the other occupants in greeting.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask has joined the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing mask of summer has joined the line.

Someone wearing The Harlequin salutes the raven crisply, clicking his boots together once at the heel and standing at a soldier's rest beside him. He purposefully watches any, the line of gaze from teh mask following those that tarry too close to the canvas. Ironically he says, "Alright. No funny business." when the game is announced.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask slips off again, drink in hand now, winding his way through the crowd as the raven host introduces two of the games for the evening. He finds his way near the woman with the feather-crowned steel mask and pauses to converse quietly.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask sweeps a bow to the bat and the magpie, and then glances up to announcements. "Ah! That sounds like something I want to participate in!" Ominous? A little. But she slips away to find the line up, a red and black shadow slipping through the crowd.

Someone wearing A mask of sears has joined the line.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask escorts Weeping to the table, his head canting in the direction of the announcements, before he snags two glasses of whatever he can find. One is deposited into Weeping's hands, and the other is kept for himself. "I've found us more people to decorate our table with," he jokes to Snowflake, as he sips from his glass, giving a curious look to the blank canvas and the submission box. "That sounds interesting," he says to both Weeping and Snowflake, before squinting through his boar mask to Weeping. "You'd make a good figurine," he chuckles.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta gestures back-handed toward mask of summer. "First! Summer was always a bold season." He holds out a stick of graphite. "Draw a line on the blank. Whatever you want."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask has joined the line.

The magpie just laughs at the words of the raven, "Wouldn't it be funny if I had given this mask to someone else and were playing you all? Too bad I'm not that clever." He muses, then comments to those nearest, "This is fun, but I also kind of wish I knew which others of my friends are here."

Someone wearing mask of autumn looks back to the Magpie and grins, "Ya wouldn't know me even if ya knew m'name, just docked into Arx last week! Be glad t'meet ya an' yer missus when masks are off. Oh! And thank ya fer th'couch. M'cat has laid claim to it an' won't let nobody else near it." Tipping her hat towards the couple, she scans the room again while sipping her drink. Looking over to the announcement for the activities, her head titlts to the side as she considers them. Scanning the room, looking at the masks, the people wearing them. A new figurine, huh?

Someone wearing mask of summer gets 50 books from Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing mask of summer puts 50 books in Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask holds her bottle of wine for a long moment, then looks around, and finally sets it down on the table. There. She then looks over at the raven. "Oh..." she says. "I think I should go paint on the other birdy's painting," she says, to the magpie. Then she puts eyes on the mask of autumn. Big eyes go big behind their false sheen. "Did he buy //the// couch?" she stage whispers.

Someone wearing a rainbow chameleon mask has left the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a black full face mask paint with a toothy silver grin from ear to ear stands up, scans the crowd, and leaves.

Someone wearing a black full face mask paint with a toothy silver grin from ear to ear has left the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a rainbow chameleon mask feels perhaps a bit too uncomfortable with all the masks and not a single familiar voice, so she takes her leave with a simple nod of her head.

Someone wearing mask of summer takes the stick of graphite from the Raven, nodding once, "Bold, bold. Not too bold." Summer looks at the canvas, stares at it. Shakes her head and steps away. "It grows cold. It's better left a dream of leafy shadows."

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask twitches at the Boar's comment and chuckles, because there's something about that that's ... hilarious. She nods to the lovely Snowflake, beaming. "I'm afraid I'll refrain from creative endeavors for now. It is amusing to watch the others, however."

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing The Harlequin opines from his assumed post of 'guarding' the canvas, "Oh, quaint, this shall be a masterpiece. Can I hang it on my cabinet right alongside my nephew's? Very talented prodigy. Just turned four."

The magpie gives autumn a thoughtful study. "I don't know... I've been pretty busy today. I didn't think anyone bought it, but I did *give* one away. So... maybe it's that person?" He asks the autumn masked one, "Are you the one I gifted the couch to?"

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask tilts her heavy, reflective head toward the smiling wolf, though he's offered more of her half-hidden ear than the shining surface obscuring her face. Whatever he whispers earns an impish little smile and a quiet response in kind, her glass--red wine selected by staff--lifted that she might sip while she waits.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta takes the graphite back from mask of summer. The smile is in his voice again. "There's a poetry in that, just as there's a poetry in blankness. You've made your statement, thank you." Over to Harlequin. "Right now, it is a masterpiece! Like all blank things, pure potential. So forth."


    Winter's song continues to flow and ring out from the mandolin strings. Staccato plucks of the string- a ringing song that is almost reminiscent of crystal chimes or bells in a distant and brisk day when snow falls and covers everything in a blanket of pure white. The music is an undercurrent- and he's not playing to take the attention away from anyone at all. Rather, his music seems to fill the silences- the comforting warmth of a fire amid the coolness of a snowy morning.

It is now Someone wearing grinning white skull mask's turn to speak.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask plays fingers against the cool of her glass, nodding to the tucked boar and the weeping woman as they rejoin the table. "Hello," she says, the corners of her eyes lifting as if in a smile. "Welcome to the near the drinks table."

Someone wearing A mask of sears says wistfully, "Four is such a good age! Old enough to talk, not yet old enough to talk over you."

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask claims a glass of wine from a passing servitor and toasts them with it even as he wanders on to join the line. He hums thoughtfully in tune to the music currently playing. "I think I'll have to bribe them for something stompier," he says. "I'm very curious to see what this chaos looks like when you're through with us all, Raven." He makes a grabby hand gesture for the graphite like an awful ruiner. Who knows what he's about to do.

Someone wearing The Harlequin cants his head to the side, tapping one foot as one finger taps against the chin. "At that rate, I'll stretch canvas and leave it gesso'd, sell it for a fortune and retire with the wealth of a fetching Grayson 'maiden'."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta passes the graphite next to grinning white skull. "So! Would you like to make a line, or are you also seduced by the blankness of the canvas?" Considering that skull's already grabbing, though-- "Not seduced, then. Make something!"

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask lifts his broad shoulders into a shrug at Weeping's words. "Ah, well. Not all of us are cut out for creative endeavors," he says to Weeping, flashing her a broader grin as he lifts the drink to his lips once more and takes a longer sip. "Who designed your mask?" he asks curiously, lifting a finger to point out the teardrops. "I really like the gems."

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask laughs aloud at something the woman in the feather-crowned steel mask says to him. He murmurs a few words back and then offer his arm to her. Then, after a moment, he steps closer to nudge the offered arm against hers in indication, in case she can't see it.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask etches a curving line outward from the center like an orb spider's web or like frost etching on a windowpane. He flips it over in his fingers and then proffers it back to the raven. "I'm very easily seducible, you know that," he says.

    Summer's warmth is in her lyrical voice, "There's truth in the poetry," summer agrees as she drifts away to claim her wine, smudging graphite against the glass. She sips, comments toward the Harlequin, "Sell it for a fortune. A dream of winter. It would sell, provided the story that you gave with it was beautiful."

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask nods to snowflake, smiling warmly. "It is the best table," she agrees with a grin, sipping from her glass. At the boar's question, she chuckles. "I do believe it was made at the Atelier, near the city's center on Merchant's Way? I'm amazed she had the time. I'm told there were many last minute orders."

It is now Someone wearing A mask of sears's turn to speak.

"Okay, bat-wife. I'm off to scribble on the canvas too. Gotta make my mark on it." The magpie says brightly, hopping down from the table finally and going to get into the line. His blue eyes wander to the wolf and the one he's speaking with, offering a smile, "I like feathers. Excellent choice." He says with a grin.

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta takes graphite from grinning skull, observing the curved line in question. "An elegant choice, simplicity itself. So forth. Go find someone to be seduced by," he says, then turns to the next person in line, sears. He hesitates, then offers the graphite. "Your turn."

Someone wearing A mask of sears takes the stick, and wonders, "Just one line?"

Someone wearing The Harlequin mocks holding up something, a hand placed dearly over his heart as he proclaims, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players...but if fortune is to be found in void of applied apt hues, who am I to miscontrue? A dream of winter, or a dream of shade? Either way, the fool gets paid." He snaps his fingers and turns back to watching the canvas from his station beside it.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask yells, "Congratulations!" at the magpie and bat once more. And then makes some effort to mingle. Or wander, at least. She goes to get herself a drink. A glass of whiskey, is her aim. Then, she looks for a seat. Plopping down rather randomly at the small roudn table, with the winter and hte flower. "Hello!"

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask is abandoned! And so she gives a little flap of her wings. Er, the shimmery silk cloak she wears. Then she starts to slowly look around. Who to bother... who to bother... She'll wander over to submit a vote for the mask figurine.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" the grinning skull muses thoughtfully, and then wanders over to the musicians to coax them into giving him something he can stomp along to the rhythm and maybe coax some dancing into happening.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask misses the first offer from the wolf, but catches the nudge, delicate digits curling about his elbow as she falls in beside him. Her smile wide, she murmurs a few more soft words to him, head turning slightly, reflecting the light and crowds.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask nods to the weeping midnight woman. "It is the best, yes." She is a woman of few words tonight, though her eyes flick over the gems of the other woman's mask. "Joscelin does beautiful work, you are quite lucky."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask gets 50 books from Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta inclines his head to sears. "Just one line. But it can be as long and complex as you like."

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask studies Weeping a touch more curiously now, a hint of curiousity in his gaze. "Ah, yes. The Guildmaster's shop, no?" he comments, fingers drumming over the glass before he drains it, and exchanges the empty for another. Being near the drinks was all too convenient. He nods over to Snowflake, adding, "I hear she makes the best jewelry in all of Arx. No surprise then, your mask is truly exceptional." A pause, before he adds with a grin, and a light nudge of his elbow into Weeping's side. "Though I've heard it is the wearer that truly brings out the mask's beauty, rather than the crafter. I think that is so, in this case."

Someone wearing mask of autumn offers a nod towards Magpie, calling out, "Aye, that were me! I heard about yer party and figured it would be a good time to both meet and congratulate fer yer recent nuptials." Lifting her glass towards him, she looks around once more for a potential figurine.

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask puts folded note in Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask puts Masked Vote! in Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask puts 49 books in Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing A mask of sears considers that for a moment. She puts graphite to canvas near the left top corner, middle ish, and draws a smooth pattern of straights punctuated by little curves, rhythmic. It arcs across the top of the canvas, doubling back the same until she cuts it off near the first mark. It looks almost like a chain, that first link just starting to break in half. Wordlessly, she flips the graphite through her fingers and offers it back, as one might flip a blade to offer it hilt first.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask raises her glass to Snowflake, the Weeping woman's glass barely touched. "Is this typical of a masquerade? I was telling our tusked friend here that I've never attended one. It is quite wondrous." She smiles, takes a sip from her glass, almost chokes at the Boar's compliment. "Ah, my thanks, stranger-friend. I hope to do the creator proud and wear it well."

    When the grinning skull prompts the musicians to start up with something that can be danced to - Summer finds this acceptable. Wine finished, glass abandoned. Light, floaty steps toward the cleared space outlined for it. Summer dances with an invisible partner - for now.

Someone wearing mask of summer checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta takes the graphite from sears, the inclination of his head deeper. "Thank you," he says. "We move toward a chain. Or something like. What will the other links be." He holds the graphite out to bat. "Your turn."

It is now Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask's turn to speak.

The magpie throws autumn a grin, "I'm glad you like it! No one has bought the other yet. I guess it just takes a certain kind of person to appreciate the style." He lets his eyes wander over the crowd, "Soooo... I guess after I add my drawing I'll have to start dancing with everyone here. If anyone wants to dance with me first, let me know. Otherwise I'm just going to impose myself on people."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask looks up. "Oh!" says the bat. She quickly scampers over to the raven. "Oh, I just... I just draw some stuff on here?" she asks, as she takes the graphite.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta inclines his head to the canvas and then to bat. "Draw a line. Of any length of complexity. Fill the blank."

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask leads the woman with the feather-crowned steel mask to the line to find their places, continuing to speak to her in a low, warm voice as they wait.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask has joined the a small round table.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask shakes her head gently and says to the weeping woman, "I would not know. I haven't attended one myself before. It's... unique." She smiles, but the veil over the lower bit of her face might make that difficult to see. She lifts her glass beneath that veil for another sip, then turns to watch those decorating the lines of chaos.

Someone wearing A mask of sears gives Raven an austere, rather antiquated curtsy and then wanders away from line and canvas both, drinking. Ambling towards the music, without really thinking about it.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask eyes the raven, as the gears churn... "Can it be a squiggly line...? Or shapes...?"

Someone wearing The Harlequin muses aloud, "I am altogether proud of you all that it has not mindguttered in the dawdling doodles yet. Well done, children."

"Whatever you want," raven verifies to bat rather brighter.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask overhears the Harlequin and laughs. "Well. Now you've gone and done it."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask checked dexterity + artwork at difficulty 15, rolling 55 higher.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask smirks over to Weeping. "I think if the creator were here, she would be very proud of you," he says that solemnly, draining his third glass. He does not reach for a fourth, licking his lips before he glances over to the canvas. "Are you going to be decorating the canvas, Snowflake?" he asks of her, before he smirks back over to Weeping. "What is it you typically do for fun, if it is not masquerades?"

    "Refinement. The truly artistic contributions have been added to the lavatory walls," trills Summer with a cocky smile.

Having successfully danceable music into happening, the grinning skull stamps, drains his wine and abandons the empty glass so that he can clap in tune and then whistles a little at the summer-masked woman floating in the midst of the floor. "We're not anonymous enough or drunk enough to start drawing penises onto things," he says.

Someone wearing The Harlequin raises both of his hands to gesture towards his cheshire's smile. "I only work with what I am given."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask nods a few times at the raven, and then she stops to think. See how she sort of wiggles back and forth. That's how bats think. She then leans forward, and starts to draw... and draw... and draw. It's not exactly speedy. She's taking her time. She's working. Eventually, finally, the bat stands back up straight and shoves the graphite at the raven. "Thanks!" she quips, and then she turns to go find a drink or something. How is she going to drink in this mask...? -- Oh, and when the bat leaves, what's left is a long line of human teeth that span the length of the canvas in one unbroken line.

The magpie looks over to the skull, "Speak for yourself. I started drinking hours ago. I am *definitely* drawing a penis on there. Remember.. I *did* compare it that one time..." Because he hasn't mentioned it in at least a week.

It is now Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask's turn to speak.

Someone wearing mask of summer laughs, "I require neither anonymity nor alcohol." Dipping her unseen partner in dramatic fashion, Summer practically swoons as she straightens up and spins.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta barks a laugh as he takes the graphite back from bat. "You're welcome. Arcs, chains, and teeth. Web, steel, and gnash. We're leaning in a particular set of directions. Maybe!" He turns the graphite over in his hands, if not quite passing-a-blade adept, and hands it to red-haired. "Your turn."

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask glances aside to the man in the tusked boar mask. "I am unsure. I rather enjoy the watching of it." Idly, her fingertip circles the rim of her glass as it rests upon the table. "What about you? Feeling artistic?" Turning her masked gaze to Weeping, she waits to hear her answer to the question posed by the man.

Someone wearing A mask of sears watches summer, a smile visible below the cut of her mask, if a faint one. It seems in that spin, then, that the lights in the hall all catch on Mask of Summer at once, sparking off hair, gown, and grinning teeth in a dazzling display.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask muses to Snowflake and Boar, "Someone should represent our table. But yes, I don't know if I should or not." She chuckles at Snowflakes response in agreement. At the Boar's question, she smiles. "Mostly? I think ... I meet people. Interesting, wonderful people, as a pleasure and a joy, even if it's for the work I do it is still fun. And you, Tusks? What do you do for fun, and you, lady Snowflake?"

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask steps up to accept the graphite with a smile that doesn't change at all. "My thanks. I promise I'll make this quick. I've no especial talent for art, but I know love when I see it," she says, conversationally, as the graphite flows in one curving line from bottom of the canvas to top, and then back down again. "So, my ode to love." When she hands the graphite back, there is a heart encircling almost the entirety of the canvas.

"No," the skull answers the magpie, "I genuinely have no memory of that." He stamps a few more times and then seems to tire of providing accompaniment; he snags another glass of something from a passing servitor, toasts the magpie with it, and says, "But I'm sure your penis will be an artistic masterpiece," before he drinks, and then wanders out on the floor: "The summer light is dancing alone. I feel the rattling of my old bones should make a decent accompaniment." But instead of interposing himself between Summer and her invisible partner, he makes a performance of it, and begins to twirl around the floor with an invisible partner of his own. It will either be artistic or incredibly dorky depending on your angle of view.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 15 higher.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask keeps close to the wolf as they approach the line, though she draws to a stop for just a moment, only long enough to surrender the glass to a table as they move past. Perhaps she'd heard the squeak of a chair against the floor or caught a glimpse of a table leg beneath the edge of her mask. Maybe she's not so blind as she appears. Who knows. Whatever the case, her now-empty hand joins the other upon the Smiling Wolf's arm, her touch light.

Someone wearing The Harlequin places both hands against his chest, over where the heart -should- be. Dramatic gagging sounds, near dry heaving and retching as he mimes then choking and falling back against the wall. "...An..ode....ode...to love." Slapping his knee with glee, he drops the act and steps back to his post. "How whimsical."

Someone wearing A mask of sears raises her hands before her as Skull takes the floor with Summer, both of them dancing with invisible partners, a laugh of delight trilling out. Then, cut abruptly short. Her hands freeze, and after an awkward moment she just claps along, a few times.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask tips his head, the tusks of his mask wavering slightly. "Interesting," he replies to Weeping, laughing a little. He looks back over to the canvas, thinking on it for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "I like to do many things. Exploring, visiting new places. Meeting new people," he says this with a smile to both Weeping and Snowflake. "I've been to many places. Arx is curious to me, many new things to see and discover." He squints at Weeping afterward, saying, "Do you dance?"

It is now Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask's turn to speak.

"You're such a liar. You definitely remember." The magpie quips back, then turns to watch the red-haired lady's work. "Heeeey, I was going to do-.. ugh. Now what am I going to do?" He asks, frowning. "Hmmm. I need to contemplate." The man scratches at his chin, very quiet now. (a rare thing for the noisy bird)

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta receives the graphite back. "What a complicated heart we have, but aren't all hearts complicated." He inclines his head toward the Harlequin. "Especially his. You have a true gift. I never know love when I see it. Thank you." He hands the graphite off to green and white, careful. "Your turn." He also keeps half an eye on the singles' dance party forming.

Someone wearing mask of summer laughs at the sudden wonder of dazzling lights. Summer courts the light as easily as she dances with herself. Or, with her invisible partner if one is so inclined. Widdershins, lefthand-wise. It's a little dorky, yes. It doesn't matter.

Someone wearing mask of winter pauses in his playing for a moment to enjoy some wine, and more quiet conversation with his table-bound companions.

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask sweeps an effortless bow to the Harlequin, the magpie and the raven, one green eye winking inside of the mask, and then slips back into the crowd. Very mysterious-like.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask stands from her table and gets approximately two steps forward, before the the silk hem of her pants catch underneath a leather soled slipper, and she loses her balance. And she immediately pitches forward; pinwheeling her arms as she shrieks, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

It is now Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask's turn to speak.

Someone wearing The Harlequin tilts his chin upwards, nose of the mask held in the air. "Complications are rare and few, for the heart of a fool is nothing new. Easily swayed, easily slayed, easily forgotten. It is as sweet as it is rotten."

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask hums in thought and looks to Weeping. "Well, I paint, actually, for fun, or to relax. I drink!" she exclaims, lifting her next-to-empty glass in a toast. "I don't have much fun, it seems. I like talking to people. The more intellectually stimulating the conversation is, philosophical even, the better." She nods gently. "Yeah, that's about it. Here, anyway."

Someone wearing mask of winter looks quietly over towards the woman in green and white flowers, an eyebrow raising as she begins to fall forward. He shrugs quietly, and turns back to his drink taking a long sip. "I suppose someone should help her up." he remarks, letting his mandolin sit on the table as he approaches quietly, kneels beside the woman and offers a hand in silence.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta withdraws his graphite uncertainly, examining green and white from a small distance, then lifting his hand. "Could someone help the flower woman over here? Make sure her, ah, knees are all right--" but as mask of winter is already striding forth, he turns his attention to the magpie. "Your turn, stranger." He passes the graphite, his beak swings toward Harlequin, "Spectacular rhymes. How do you do it."

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask chuckles at Snowflake. "Painting is good! I vote you add your mark to the masterpiece they work on," she encourages, sipping from her glass and almost choking on it second time when Boar asks her if she dances. "I ... yes? It's been ages, I'll confess. I think I'm better at stepping on toes... Mmm. I remember. The last time I danced it was with His Holiness Orazio, at a Gemecittan event." Her lips twitch at the memory. "That man is a flirt, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. An explorer," she muses, looking at the masked man. "You must tell me a tale unique to your travels, before the night is through."

Spinning in the easy glide of grace with his own invisible partner, the grinning skull dips her low, and then hugs himself into another spin as she /evaporates/. It's possible he does not have the attention span for this. He looks up, though his smile is invisible behind the broad grin of the skull he wears for a face. "You dance beautifully," he tells Summer with easy cheer, and his head tilts to the side as he slants a look past her towards Sears's clapping. He swings out his arm, hand out, palm up. "Care to dance with the dead, embers?" he asks. "I promise not to get any zombie bits on you."

The magpie looks over at the shriek, startled. "Oh.. shit. I hope she's okay. Did we invite any healers?" He asks, scratching at the back of his neck. He gives the raven a snicker, then, reaching for the graphite and approaching the canvas. He looks it over intently, then picks a spot near the middle. He presses down very hard and scrawls a thick, dark line that forms a cursive scrawl of 'Mae' with another heart up and around it. Then he hands the graphite back with a pleased smile. "Alright. Time to dance!"

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask drains the last of her glass and starts to rise from the table. "Well, I should leave you two to your conversation. Do enjoy the evening, yeah?" She smiles and nods her head to Weeping. "I will take that into consideration, but they are already doing it so beautifully." Her eyes scan the crowd and she says, "I should find the ... oh, there he is."

Splat! Green flowers hits the ground with a little plob. A huff is given and she allows the winter masked man to help her upward when he comes over. She dusts her knees off. And whether or not the winter masked man helps her over to the canvas or not she makes her way over. A sheepish smile is cast to the mirrormask'd raven. "Uh, can I still...?" She gestures toward the canvas.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask has left the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing A mask of sears stops clapping and puts her hands together with a wistful little sigh, dropping them down to hang before her. Still clasped! So they can't cause any trouble. Then Grinning Skull is holding out his hand to her, and she releases them to scamper forward and seize it. "Yes! Yesyes. Though it's been some time since I danced, I don't know the fashion!"

    The shriek causes Summer to stumble into her unseen partner, she apologizes and breaks away from dancing and spirits herself away from the dancefloor with a giggle. "Thank you, Skull." She nods as she scampers to the edges of where Winter aids the Flowers. "Poor pale blooms. So terribly fragile and very sturdy all at once."

Someone wearing The Harlequin turns the mask so that its focus is clearly upon Raven's. "It is rather simple; I open the lips and out comes the fount, a silver tongue with purple prose, but sharper still than thorn of rose."

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask looks to Snowflake, her smile fading. "Ah, thank you for speaking with my, madam." Her smile returns, warm. "Have a wondrous evening!"

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask looks back to Snowflake as she decides to leave, offering her a bold grin. "It was nice to meet you, Lady Snowflake. Have a good evening," he says, before he looks back to Weeping. He studies her for a longer moment, before he holds out a hand to her. "Well. I have big feet. I'll hardly notice if you step on them," he laughs. "Come and dance with me. That is the point of these things, isn't it?"

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask turns to regard the Smiling Wolf more directly at something he says, her words soft and thoughtful. Before the Magpie can leave the canvas, she draws a hand away from her escort to catch the bird by the elbow, tilting toward him to murmur a pair of words before she lets go.

It is now Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask's turn to speak.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask lights a hand upon Sears's hip and moves to spin them both across the floor in the beginnings of a pretty simple waltz. He is solid and capable, not so meltingly graceful as some, but there is a cheery energy that has sustained him all evening, and he applies it now as before. "I'm sure we can make it up as we go," he says. One of his eyes winks; the other glints pale behind the mask. "Anyway, the classics never die, do they?"

     Summer spins, catches sight of the Stars and those endless galaxies in their gown. She gasps with awe, makes an approving sound and turns abruptly to avoid crashing into anyone.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta takes the graphite back from the magpie with a quiet laugh. "Very well! Mae is in the painting and in our hearts, so forth." He glances over at green and white. "Queue's almost empty, looks like. Head back to the back, and I'll get you in just a moment, hm?" He passes the graphite to polished steel. "Your turn, sinister one."

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask has left the a small round table.

Someone wearing mask of autumn had to deal with a messenger for a moment, but she's returned to the party and calls back towards Magpie, "Anyone that ccan't appreciate th' craftsmanship an' humor in that couch don't deserve it anyhow!" With dancing starting up, she moves a bit farther away from the dance floor, edging around it to find somewhere 'safe' to stand.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask is so caught in conversation with Feather-Crowned that he almost misses when it's her turn. Then he tugs his attention ahead, murmuring another few words, and leads her up to the canvas. "Let's see how this goes!"

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask looks at the Boar in surprise. "I ... alright." She accepts his hand and moves to stand. "I'm not to be sent your healing bills, yes?" Slippered feet make hardly a sound as she steps lightly, the train of her dress skimming across the floor.

Someone wearing A mask of sears laughs, looping an arm easily over Skull's shoulders - well, one shoulder. She follows the waltz easily, even gracefully, lifting the foot that leads her into the spins higher than most would, so that she's almost prancing with her partner. "I really don't think I should answer that," she replies. "I might jinx it."

Someone wearing mask of winter checked charm + performance at difficulty 40, rolling 16 higher.

The magpie just grins at the raven, then starts to move off but the steel-masked one catches his arm and shares that whisper. Then he just lights up, "You came!!" He has a wide grin and waits right there, "You have to dance with me after you add your part there. I'm sure the wolf here won't mind, right?" He gives the wolf a questioning look.

Someone wearing mask of winter has rolled a critical success!
Someone wearing mask of winter checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 25, rolling 51 higher.


    Once the mask of Flowers has stood, and is again on her own feet the Winter man steps back and bows his head. Nothing more needs be said, it seems. He bows his head again to Summer. "I'm afraid that you and I must remain eternally apart, Remembrances of Summer." he notes, "Forever chasing, never touching- the moon and sun like winter and summer dance eternally amid the breath of the seasons and the dreams of times between."

    Winter picks up his lute again, listening closely to the music as its playing now. He pauses, letting his foot bounce a moment before he begins to dance along with the music, upbeat and festive. He plays, joining the other musicians in their music. Both, at the same time- movement and music as a single unit.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask gets 49 books from Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask stands from the table when the flower-masked woman trips. Maybe to see if she requires more help. Maybe because she's in need of a fresh drink. Probably both. Seeing the flower go off mostly unharmed, she circulates back for a refill, and to take a closer look at the canvas.

Someone wearing mask of winter has left the a small round table.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask puts 49 books in Masked figurine submission.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask has joined the line.

"Well, if they do die, I'm sure they'll live again one way or another," the grinning skull says with a kind of obnoxious sunshine to his voice, and he laughs as they waltz and spin around the floor. "Glad you made it to the dance floor, anyway."

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask goes to the end of the line.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask manages to find a drink and sneak off to some corner of the room, by herself, to try to finger out how to drink wine without taking off her mask.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask dumps carved wooden box with cat and magpie and spills its contents all over the floor.

Someone wearing mask of summer dips, sways, "Such in the nature of the seasons, the whirl and twirl of it. The pain of separation allows one to better appreciate the beauty of reunion. Even if distanced." Summer tells winter, watching after a moment longer before Summer flees, as such bold seasons are occasionally known to do.

Someone wearing mask of summer has left the A simple square table, not too cozy.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 9 higher.

Someone wearing mask of brass slips into the room, pausing as she takes in the masked crowd -- dancing, talking, and... painting? After a moment, uncertain where best to go, she makes her way over to collect a drink, and then perhaps head to the dance floor.

Someone wearing a pale green and white flower mask has left the a small round table.

Someone wearing A mask of sears clings just that bit tighter to Grinning Skull, urging their pace faster. She really likes spinning, it seems. "These were always my favorite sorts of parties," she admits. "Low, and fun. No endless tedium of obeisance, and backbiting. No one chained to a golden cage to sing." Her eyes flit to Winter, playing and dancing among the others moving on the floor, and she looks happy for him, even as she lets the steps slow. Tiny bit breathless!

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask checked stamina + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask stands near the drinks, one arm wrapped around herself, watching the line of people drawing... a line, ironically enough. The person she had aimed to go see had veered off in another direction, and so, she simply watches the others as they dance and share the joys of the evening.

Someone wearing The Harlequin bows with a flourish then to Raven and remarks, "As enchanting as this has been, the fool must depart for more ventures of jest. A flagon of wine, a night's full rest."

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask promises the Magpie, "I will," with a dip of her heavy head and a broad, fond smile for the man. As the Smiling Wolf draws her up to the canvas, she gives his arm a squeeze and draws her hands free that she might accept the graphite with a sharp-edged smile, skewing slightly left, and a murmur of, "Thank you, Sir Raven." He'd spoken what guise he was wearing earlier in the night, the host's identity committed to memory. After drawing a deep breath, she sets her first mark to the canvas, crossing another already present inadvertantly. What she draws is... well... It's curved, that's for certain. Maybe it's a snake? A badly misshapen snake? A sloppy S? A hook? A ribbon? Really, blind women shouldn't be given art supplies. Who knows what it was meant to be. She keeps her head high, chin lifted with marked defiance as she holds the graphite out to be reclaimed. No apologies for the mess she's made.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask keeps up the pace, the gliding speed and the spin, and chortles in the depths of his throat, breath huffing past the teeth of his grin and warming against the sturdy angles of his mask. "I'm afraid I was pretty naughty the last time I went to the other kind, too," he says. "Even when I used to be the entertainment at those things I struggled with being well-behaved. Fortunato's really outdone himself tonight, though." He sounds absurdly pleased, deriving some ... secondary satisfaction as though he has a stake in everything Fortunato does. Definitely, very subtle who he is.

Someone wearing A mask of sears doesn't sound /proud/ of anyone named Fortunato, per se, but there's a note of warmth in her voice nonetheless. Of course, when isn't there? "He always does himself quite well, in my experience. She pats Skull's arm, and steps just slightly away to bow. "Thank you for the dance. That was fun."

It is now Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask's turn to speak.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask huffs a quiet laugh at the ruffled magpie's question. "She's her own person," he says, his head turning to watch the feather-crowned woman as she draws her -- whatever it is. "I was just helping her along for a bit." His gaze lingerings, studying what she's left behind on the canvas.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta takes the graphite back, examining the length of the gray and then examining polished steel. All this before he examines the canvas. "Hm," he says, dropping the syllable abbreviated. "I like it. It's raw. Bold. Takes /interpretation/." He juts the graphite stick over to Wolf. "Can you match it, wolf? Your turn."

The magpie's eye catches the brass arrival and he'll throw a cheerful smile. "Welcome! Get yourself a party favor! Put in a vote on a masked guest here you'd like to see as a figurine in that box there. Or come add a line to this strange piece of art we're all creating!" Then he watches the Steel Masked one add that squiggle to the canvas before offering his hand out to her. "Shall we have a quick spin?" The wolf gets an appreciative smile.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask returns her bow in kind. "It was," he says. "And I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, too." His grin is clear in his voice, almost matching to the one on his mask. Then he says, "Now I think it's time for another drink," and turns to stroll away from the dance floor and find his /third/ drink of the night, oh no.


    Winter spins, his natural grace and movements almost ecstatic and he twirls and plays- feet stomping in perfect rhythms to the music with impeccable timing and chiming, singing mandolin strings. Perhaps he is in character, because one could almost imagine a sprinkling of snowflakes dancing in an airborne eddy- twisting and turning and spinning with beautiful grace as the light is caught and reflected back. Odd, how the paleness of his mask contrasts with the darkness of his skin- the man a rangy shadow. Still, his mandolin sings- but he does not.

Someone wearing a striped lynx mask takes all advantage of the free bar, slinking through the party for a bit. Eventually she winds her way out of it, though. Early hunting tomorrow, and such.

Someone wearing mask of brass offers the magpie a smile, visible beneath the half-mask of her outfit. "Thank you, I will!" she assures him, as she goes to take one of the party favors. "There's so /many/ people here! It's almost a little overwhelming!"

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask almost startles a bit when he realizes he's actually up next in the line. "Oh right!" he says, stepping forward. He takes the graphite and stares at the canvas for a long moment, his body language reading a bit lost. And then he places the graphite on the spot where the broken chain drawn earlier is cracked open. He takes a breath, and then he starts drawing in a long, upward sweep. The travel of the graphite is sharp and angular, and soon a star is forming, its long tail pinpointed at the break of the chain, the rest of it spreading bold and angular above. When the graphite drags down to complete the other half of the tail, he's left behind a sharp explosion where the chain has broken. He takes a slow breath, and then he hands the graphite back to Raven.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask laughs, bright and breathy and brief, at the Raven's gracious appraisal of whatever it is she's left upon the canvas. "Perhaps you'll give me your read later in the evening." With a nod toward the wolf, she adds "And perhaps you'll stalk me again, Sir Wolf." With that, she turns toward the Magpie's voice and steps toward him. She might bump into his fingers before her own find them. With a smile, she instructs, "Lead the way."

Someone wearing A mask of sears stays where she is upon the floor, not dancing anymore, just watching Winter. With an impish tilt to her lips, she claps her hands along, once or twice, and murmurs something beneath her breath.

The magpie takes the steel mask's hand confidently and will guide her towards the dance floor. "I really am pleased that you made it. And so many people came. It's wonderful." He says, voice delighted. "I mean, I know people love a party, but we're not nobility or anything." Can he dance? She's about to find out, because he'll start guiding the blinded woman to the best of his ability.

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask has rolled a critical success!
Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 7 lower.

"Huh." The raven takes the graphite back and, here again, he examines the stretch and streak of the long-tailed star. "Similar boldness, if I think we know what it means. Ah! Delightful," he suddenly enthuses. "I am glad for steel's heavy shiver and bat's teeth to keep it a bit terrifying." With this, he glances back over the queue, with this, he goes searching for green and white. "Excuse me. The flower woman, with the white and green? If you still wanted to draw, the line is done."

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask takes a seat at one of the tables with a tall glass of something foamy and pleasant to nurse, leaning into the chair with a languid good humor about him, for a skeleton.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has joined the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask tips his head to Raven. "I'm not good at terrifying," he admits with wry humor. "But I'm good at bold." He turns away then, considering the dance floor for a moment, then winding his way to one of the tables. He settles in at the small one currently occupied by Bat.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing A mask of sears backs up a couple of steps, and then turns towards the doors. A dance, a drink, a line drawn. A good night, all in all.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta finishes scanning through the ballroom for white-greens and green-whites and lets the graphite slacken in his hand before he puts it away. "Well! If anyone should still desire to add lines, stars, teeth to the canvas, the queue opportunity remains, you lucky guests." He subsides by the crate of figurine submissions, with a brief glance after sears.

"I promised," echoes those earlier words for the steel-masked woman. That polished surface reflects the Magpie mask as they start to move. "I'm not here for the party, darling, though it /has/ been fun. I'm here--" Just as the Feather-Crowned mask is not made for seeing, neither is the dark, gauzy dress which goes with it made for dancing. Really, she's likely meant to just stand about and look imperious. Surely, she'd do rather well at that. Yet, here she is trying to keep up with Magpie as he gracefully guides her from one step to the next and all but tripping over the hem of her dress. There might have been a little rip with that last stumble as she draws up more closely to the celebrated groom. Heavily. As if she might need his sturdiness to not go tumbling. She murmurs again, keeping close, words not carrying over the crowded room.

Someone wearing A mask of sears blows Raven mask a kiss over a shoulder as she goes.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has left the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has joined the A small square table.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask before departing.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta picks up two parchments, drops them back into the box, then steps out briefly.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta steps back in, bearing a bottle of whiskey. He hones in on the bat and sets the bottle nearby. "Seraph Ailith sends her regards."

The magpie will slow down a little, curbing his enthusiasm in the interest of not giving his dance partner a broken ankle. There's a wide smile at her words about not being here for the party, "You did promise, but I wouldn't have held it against you if you changed your mind." Then he listens to her quieter murmuring. He speaks a quiet response as he more carefully guides her in the dance. He's really not that good at it, but the man isn't known for dancing.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask looks up from her conversation with the wolf. "Huh?" the bat asks the raven. Blink blink. Then she's looking over at a bottle...

"It is," raven informs the bat, "as I understand, strong and excellent. Never a day when a person doesn't need strong whiskey."


    The music and the movement are everything in this moment to the man in the Mask of Winter. His eyes half lidded as he turns and whirls, wholly enraptured in this singular sensation of music and motion entwined within a single person. He is only aware of the others on the dance floor with him in a dim sense- his attention is inward on himself and whatever welling of emotion and creativity has taken him in this moment.

    Winter opens his mouth and begins to sing- he can't help himself. Not now, when he's so taken in this moment of joyous merriment. "Before even your first breaths were taken, you were together. Across the ages you sailed through aether-drenched oceans and across jagged shoals to meet that one person you knew from presence of their soul alone. When no-longer do your hearts beat, you shall be together still and even in the remembrances of the Gods will your togetherness remain." Winter's voice is tell-tale, a sure sign of who this dark man with the mandolin is- no mask could hide his voice.

    "But remember always, although you and yours have found that which could never be forgotten, you must dance like the strings of my mandolin- together and alone, as a single song who's beauty resonates with all your yesterdays and soon to be tomorrows."

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask watches the dancers, both graceful and... trying, and everything in between. She seems to get lost in a daze for a bit, entranced perhaps, but when her thoughts return to the present, she looks to snag another drink. Overhearing Raven, she nods and says, "hear hear to that!"

Someone wearing A Red-Haired Lady Mask enjoys the night fully, but as the hour grows later, the woman disappears out the doors and into the night.

The magpie will slow the dance with the Steel Masked lady to a halt, then offer her a smile. "Thank you." He says cheerfully, then peers around. "Now I must drag a bat onto the dance floor." He calls out loudly, "Bat-Wife! Will you dance with me??" Oh, commoners.


    Winter's song ceases before long, and his voice stops its siren's call before he gracefully comes to a stop from twirling and dancing. It is with a silent step that he leaves the dance floor, his mandolin no longer strummed as he makes his way towards a table where there's wine or whiskey- now is time to drink, it seems.

Someone wearing mask of winter has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask murmurs the word, "Unlucky," with some dubiousness as she steps away from the Magpie. "Mm." Her head tilts toward the sound of Winter's song as it draws to a close, her smile soft. Hard to tell if the, "Thank you," is then for her dance partner or the siren. Either way, she drifts off. Aimless. Blind. Slowly. Contentedly. Seems she may well be enjoying herself tonight. Nevermind that loose little tatter at the low hem of her dress where she'd stepped on the damned thing until it tore. What fun's ever had without a little damage done?

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask gives the Wolf a big hug, then turns off, and steps over towards the Magpie. "Hello, bird husband. Please don't step on my toes," she asks, ever so politely, as she approaches Magpie, with one hand out.

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask is drawn in to the man in Winter's mask's song. Her snowflake gaze settling on him. So pleased is she by that song, she sets her drink down in order to applaud. "That was beautiful, and such very good advice." She nods, lifting her drink up once more.

Whiskey distributed, the raven drifts himself by the canvas. To wrap it up, to consider it done as the night wanes toward a last dance.

Someone wearing mask of winter bows his head towards the Cascading Snowflakes, a silent thank you for the praise and applause.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask assures the Bat, "Your toes are safer with him than with me," though it sounds almost flirtatious in tone, as if it might be a selling point, a reason to dance with her instead. The sly grin beneath the metal mirror of her mask only sells that probability.

Of course, the music ends right as the bat and bird are united on the dance floor. "Ohhh.. it stopped. Well, thank you winter singer!" He calls cheerfully, then .. well, music or not he'll take his wife's hands to draw her close. "Want me to sing something for us to dance to? I could clear the room quite fast."

Someone wearing mask of brass applauds Winter's performance, putting her drink aside to clap with enthusiasm and vigor. Only once she's done does she select her drink again and take a good long swallow, as if fortifying herself to try to find a partner with whom to venture onto the dance floor.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta does point a long-beaked attention at brass as he prepares the canvas, as if he'd only just noticed her in the eddies. And her hesitancy. "I'm no dancer, but here you are, and it'd be a shame for you not to have a partner. If you'd like one."

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask laughs quietly when the Bat goes and hugs him, watching her go and hunt down her dance. His gaze lingers on her and Feater-Crowned when they trade banter, and then he peels off from his table with a quick word of farewell and approaches the latter.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask eyes the feather-crowned and steel clad woman for a long moment. "Oh, um... maybe you can step on my toes later...?" the bat asks, though it's decidedly a bit sheepish. She quickly turns to Magpie, and then steps in close, and wraps her arms about him. That's what she's supposed to do, right? Hold on tight? No, she's just hugging him. Then she releases, and takes his hands. "Sing for us, my love. Sing your pretty song."

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing mask of brass smiles back at the raven, bright and cheerful, if perhaps a little embarrassed. "I'd love to! If you're willing." And she puts aside her drink to offer her hand to the raven, adding apologetically, "I'm not much of a dancer /either/, so we'll be a well-matched pair."

"Neither of us might be able to walk by the end of it. But here we are." The raven offers his hand to brass. "Let's keep it simple. I hear stepping back and forth is popular in clumsy circles."

Someone wearing a cascading snowflake mask quietly slips out of the ballroom, to wander into the night.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has left the A small square table.

Binky, an asshole crow have been dismissed.

Gregory, an unassuming disciple have been dismissed.

Someone wearing mask of brass laughs to the raven. "I think I could manage back and forth," she agrees, as she takes the raven's hand and moves to the dance floor.

Someone wearing mask of brass checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 5 higher.

"Alright. If you really want me to. I do know a song about the spider queen. It's kind of rough, but..." Magpie isn't one to shy from boldness. He'll clear his throat and begin to sing a rather jaunty song... "As I wandered through the years unspent, the kingdom I knew completely boring, I ventured deep into the crypts to come, across a cavern I found whilst exploring."

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 9 lower.

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta follow-paces brass to the dance floor and has hardly begun stepping and swaying before he treads /very/ heavily on her foot and overbalances to the side. Well.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask checked dexterity + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

Someone wearing mask of brass checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask steps in a little closer to the Smiling Wolf when she catches his voice, her smile a shallow echo of the one reflected back upon the shiny surface obscuring the rest of her features. An arm might not be on offer as it had been before, but that doesn't keep her from reaching out tentatively in hopes of making some sort of not entirely inappropriate contact with the man. All the while, she murmurs a soft-spoken reply with her chin delicately lifted.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask's eyes light up when the magpie actually does start to sing. She's smiling beneath the mask. One can tell by the way it shifts on her face. And so while he sings, she sets to work leading the dance, so he needn't worry about two things at once. So simple and easy. Step back, forward, to the side. One hand on the magpie's shoulder, the other in his.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has joined the A small square table.

Someone wearing mask of brass actually manages a relatively graceful beginning to her dance, only to end up making a noise that sounds something like a pained 'meep!' as her foot is trod upon by raven rather hard. Still, she manages to (mostly) keep smiling at her corvid partner as she continues to dance. "I've never been to a masked party before," she admits. "It's fun, but kind of confusing."

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask takes pity on poor Feather-Crowned and shoves his arm in the path of her searching hand to give her something to hold onto. His head cants thoughtful at something she says, then continues to speak to her in a low voice.

When no one immediately throws things at him for his singing (because face it, following the last singer was a very high bar), Magpie will gain some confidence and continue, letting his wife lead him in the dance. He goes through a few more verses about this person venturing to the spider lair... "'You have invaded my home, soft-skinned Elf!', the Master-Spider raged, lunged himself up, 'You cower with lust and claim to desire me, 'But you spill enough terror to fill a cup!'" It may soon become obvious that this song is going nowhere appropriate, "'It's true!' I cried, 'My fears are my joy! Your fury delights me, your rage, a balm! Unique to my world, my Master, I beg of you, Stow your anger, use me to find your calm!'"

Someone wearing mask of winter turns and begins towards the exit, "It was a lovely party." he offers to no one and everyone simultaneously. "Thank you for hosting it."

Serenity arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask before departing.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask pitches his voice to carry: "Does anyone have a tomato I can throw?"

Someone wearing ruffled magpie mask checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 50 higher.

"I've never run one before. Bit awkward," the raven tries, holding his foot up for a bit longer than is really necessary, before stepping far enough back to avoid another tromp. "I like the touch of anonymity, but you don't have that when you host. And you're more concerned with keeping things moving than playing a part. I hoped to be a bit more frightening," he owns, "but it wouldn't be very friendly." More general, over to winter, "Thanks for coming!" to Magpie, quite. "Terrors to fill a cup. How, well, terrifying."

Someone wearing a Feather-Crowned Polished Steel Mask laughs at the Wolf's words as she wraps her arms about his, taking the gesture as invitation rather than pity. Her feathers rustle as she shakes her head and offers answer. As they converse, her head turns slightly to better listen to Magpie's magnificently strange song.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask continues to dance, with her bird-husband. The bat says nothing, and mostly just stares at the magpie mask across from her. If one looks hard enough, you can almost see that nasty yucky love she feels for him. Positively unsavory. Of course, one somewolf talks of throwing tomatoes, the bat will glare at him.

"'Supple Elves, we bend and flex,' I offered, 'We can scratch, pleasure, with a single member, Go where you like in a manner to please you, And prove I am a lover you will ever remember!'" Trust Magpie to know this one. He just grins, emboldened by the threat of tomato as he peers at the skull in challenge. "He looked at me, this Spider-King, mystified, by what I laid bare to him in open need, and then the creature cackled with glee! Approaching me, he darted forward, set me free. And then he said, with great delight, 'My Nox'Alfar, I've eight legs, do the math, if you've a cock for just your twain, your ass will definitely enjoy my wrath!"

Someone wearing mask of brass tilts her head, as she dances with raven. "I imagine," she remarks, a flush visible beneath the mask as she takes in the words of the magpie's song, "that it was a lot of work to put together. But I'm glad you did! Even if I wasn't here for the whole thing, it was impressive."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta glances from brass to the magpie. The mysterious magpie. "I suppose. I think this increasingly crude ode to elves is greater than anything I've done, though."

Someone wearing mask of winter has left the A small square table.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask can't quite keep it up. She just giggling now, and bright red under the mast. So she leans forward and pushes her forehead to the magpie's chest. This little bat will stay hiding for a bit. Even if she is wearing a mask!

"I hate you so much," the grinning skull sighs before pouring back the rest of his beer.

The bold bird just continues, because the song must be finished and hearing the giggling and the words from the skull only encourage him. He sings loudly so the whole party can hear, "So we collapsed in a heap of living silk, my delicious four-cocked lover and I, and Queen of Endings, it was a blessing, in love we fell before the winking eye! ... We left and married on a moonlit night, and built a house in the dank of a cave, to love each other for hours and hours a paradise only we could rightly brave!" The bat-masked lady gets a little guided spin as he holds her close, rolling into the last verse, "And the best thing about spiders is, you needn't a womb to carry their young, it's all a matter of a warm tight space, so now our children number a thousand and one!"

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask's laughter spills out as she gets twirled, and she can hardly keep her dancing going. Mostly she just clings to Magpie less she fall down! "Did he really have four of them?!" Mae blurts, as her eyes search the room for a certain, well... someone.

Someone wearing grinning white skull mask has finished off his bee and looks at Magpie in the high exasperation -- well it's actually hard to tell, the skull keeps grinning.

Also he finished off his beer, not his bee.

"I don't know, love. You need to ask the authority." Magpie answers innocently, throwing his gaze towards the one in the skull mask. "Tell us, wise one!" He drapes one arm over his wife's shoulders, grinning widely.

Someone wearing mask of brass laughs at raven's remark, though it's slightly strained. She's not sure what to make of spider-elf love songs. "I should probably go soon," she admits to her dance partner. "I have a few things to work on... but I want to talk to you soon, if you're free sometime."

"I am not an authority on spider-fucking," the skull states with exasperated matter-of-factness. "I have never fucked a spider. Or been fucked by a spider."

Someone wearing a stygian raven bauta places his hand on brass's forearm, light and drifting. "I think I've done my duty and now everyone's going to sing crude songs while getting progressively drunk. Always free otherwise, though. Bit quiet of late."

"You ''are'' the spider in the story!" the bat quips out. "You're the authority on elf-... um." And the bat falters, and gives a flap of a hand. "Elf stuff."

"Are you sure? I mean, you've had slumber parties with them." Magpie may have had a bit much to drink, but he's happy and will steer the bat in the direction of the drink table so he can get something to intoxicate himself further." The raven has it right. More drunken crudeness.

Looking quizzically back towards the quippy bat, the skull says in a less exasperated and more /mystified/ way, "...well, I definitely only have one cock?"

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask steps away from his quiet conversation from the woman in the Weeping mask and heads for the door without another word.

Someone wearing a tusked boar mask has left the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask looks to her magpie-husband as she's dragged off the floor. "He thinks the spider had the four... um... peeps. I think he didn't understand the song. You should sing it again..."

Someone wearing mask of brass nods to raven. "Well, if you want to talk, come find me at home in a little bit. Unless you'd like to grab a room here to talk?"

"Let's find a room here. Shortly?" the raven asks, posits. Quite posits. With that, he disengages from brass and packs up that canvas for real.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask is a little out of breath, a lot confused, but more ... just ... something warm and pleasant. A heartbeat later, she's grabbing a drink, knocking it back, and then heading out into the entrance hall. "Wonderful party, Grayhopes! Throw more just like it!" And then she departs.

Someone wearing a Weeping Midnight Mask has left the A simple circular table of decent breadth.

Someone wearing a Smiling Wolf mask continues to exchange quiet words with Feather-Crowned until she finally starts to pull away. He turns her in the right direction, offering a few final words before he lets her go.

"Ooooh, I think I'm done singing, that's a really long song and I'm thirsty." Magpie responds jovially. Then something catches his attention and he peers towards the raven, grinning. There's a thumbs-up for the man as the magpie jumps to ridiculous conclusions. Then he leans in to murmur in his wife's ear.

Someone wearing bright-eyed bat mask swats at Magpie's arm. "Stop that!" she stage whispers at him. Then she snags his hand, and gives a little tug. "Let me go get my wine and whiskey first," she says. She drags him off to the table where she left those, tucks them under one arm, then nods. "Ready."