Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask has joined the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden arrives, following Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask has joined the The Scandal Couch.

Soot, a gray foxhound puppy have been dismissed.

2 Keaton Huntsmen have been dismissed.

1 Saik Guard have been dismissed.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus arrives with a peacock companion. It's a good thing she has someone with her, the tall figure' mask is blind. It covers her eyes save for the meshlike design in her mask. Led by hand the woman in the Saturniidae mask is led towards a place to sit though she oes sink down. "Will you let me know when the wine comes by?" She wonders quietly of her peacock masked companion.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a Silver and Green Spinel Turtle Mask walks along and into the place, looking around the ballroom from the turtle mask. He then finds a way to a seat to settle into it and relax, taking the time to pull a green cloak about him.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask comes into the hall with an elegant demeanor only slightly diminished by the spring in his step. White, gold, and glittering in the light of the lamps, he cuts a figure as he makes an effort at smoothing un-smoothable hair and casts his gaze over the room. If he's nervous, the mask pretty well covers up the expression, and the restrained energy of his demeanor could just as well be excitement or coffee.

Petal arrives at the gathering while adorned in a simple white linen shift that is very well sewn and a pair of soft and possibly slippery over the floor white seasilk socks. She carries a reigndeer mask in her small hands, but has not put it on yet. She glances over the gathering with large brown eyes, looking all impressed and probably a little confused. The seamstress glances from one masked person to the next as if disorientated by all the seeming strangers.

Right on time, in comes... well. What are they even supposed to be? The man in that very plain mask, dressed mostly in shades of white; his date, dressed in a golden rictus of grief and a dress of journal pages. Well, nevermind; he doesn't stop to introduce himself, just leans in toward his date, murmurs something softly about finding a place to sit and watch for a few, and does that.

Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask approached within the ballroom, seemingly having antlered crown caught in the clouds as one particular had very well abandoned its glorious space in the sky to be with him. The Stag escorted the Shimmer Coral-Encrusted Storm Cloud through some revelers, holding a murmuring conversation as the two made their way toward an open space at a set of couches that were unoccupied, for now.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake is seated at the Libertine Table, staring at one corner of the room with a peridot-eyed cobra mask, then slowly fanning her head to gaze at another corner. Occasionally, she comments thusly: "Sssssssss." It makes the forked leather tongue jutting out of the mask kinda sorta wiggle. She's been doing this for a little while now, like a little snakely creep.

A pair draped in purple silk enter the ballroom arm-in-arm, the feminine form of the woman sparkling as thousands of gems catch the light. Her warm brown, almost auburn, curls are piled up on top of her head and a butterfly mask that matches the dress is perched on her nose to obscure her identity. She seems less comfortable in such an opulent location than her taller companion, a man in a gilded snake mask.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun enters surreptitiously, winding through the crowd for a bit before leaning against the wall in one of the shadowy alcoves of the room. Somewhere along the way, he procures a glass of red wine, from which he sips as he settles in to watch the room.

A pair of new arrivals steps in; the woman in the Impala Mask dressed in a low-necklined sparkling gown of starlight. She's quite a sight compared to her companion, much easier to look at, certainly: the male in the fox-slash-goat mask creates a startling, if not exactly beautiful sight in his yellow-green attire. The fox-goat bends to murmur something to his companion, patting the hand she has resting in his elbow before they glide further into the room, heading for a set of suitable couches.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask arrives to the party. She is nowhere near as fancy as some, but she is elegant in her dress all the same. Deep purple duskweave hangs upon her form and sapphires set within mirrorsilver upon her neck. She pauses inside, looking around the area before moving confidently through the crowds.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones had arrived just a little early and parked herself along the way. It seems she's taking her time in observing the room, getting the lay of the land, so to speak, before picking a seat to settle into. She nods to those passing by, offering quick smiles and little hand waves, curiosity at who each person might be showing in her black-eyed gaze.

The Peacock's arm is lofted upwards with forearm parallel to the ground so that the MothLady can wind her hands around elbow and arm to be guided through the entrance and its procession. The pair meander away from the larger crowds towards seating so that they are out of the way. "Of course, dear friend." He eases her down to a seat and settles beside her. His gaze flitting about the large ballroom to be able to flag down a carrier of wine and their tester to acquire wine for the both of them.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom strolls languidly into the ballroom, her arm entwined with her escort's as she reaches up to gently run a finger along the edge of the wolf mask. "Wolfs are not known to eat flowers, so am glad that is what this mask turned out to be. You do make a handsome wolf though." There is a teasing note in her voice. A quick glance around the room has her giving an admiring glance to the multitude of of people and their outfits. She moves toward a seat to the side to just enjoy watching for a while, and a quiet conversation.

Moonlight-over-Water mask wearer has come early enough to get a good spot at the most Improper couch of them all. Truth be told he looks like he belongs there, as though perhaps impropriety is in fact his natural habitat, and he is perched there with languid contentment as he awaits companions. Or socially unacceptable wrongdoing.

Someone wearing burlap sack slumps into the couch with a dramatic groan of pain, but the eyes behind the cutout holes in the sack keenly watch the masked individuals in the ballroom, especially any servant whom may pass by with some wine. Given this is a Velenosa masquerade, that takes all of about thirty seconds before he has a glass in hand.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask makes her way into the ballroom, all on her lonesome. She doesn't seem particularly shy about that fact, and instead strides in with a sway of her hips. The Siren collects a glass of some beverage or another from the first available servant. She inclines her head to the young woman, dark hair falling over one pearl-adorned eye.

Someone wearing a bird in flight mask wrought from gold and encrusted in rubies and black opals enters the ballroom, his outfit almost understated when compared to the woman that he arrives with. Black brocade shot through with red detailing, he's definitely no slouch. And his mask is equally as fine. But his companion, wearing a vibrant and glittering half mask of rubies and diamonds, is the one that's going to garner so much more attention in her outfit made entirely of fireweave. And that's not to mention the very beautiful jewelry that accompanies it. He acts as her escort now, arm in arm and firmly but politely parting the sea of people that they must pass to reach the heart of this party. "Excuse me," he states to one man as he directs him out of the path of himself and his date. "Yes, this is just as busy I remember it."

Despite the unyielding darkness throughout the ballroom, a woman in white stands upon the second floor balcony, her brightness in that moment unmistakable. The spidersilk all but weightless as it swirls about her feminine form in gentle caresses, while the expressionless full mask of aeterna covered in diamond dust shimmers within the candle light.

"Thank you for joining House Velenosa as we celebrate one of the most important evenings within the Lyceum," the woman begins, her voice even as if she expects the masked figured beneath her to quiet upon hearing her voice. "Tonight is a night for excess, to accept desire and lean into it. To make poor decisions within the shadows, and enjoy them completely for what they are. Your willpower holds no place here tonight."

She looks then across the crowd, extending her hand towards a specific person, the visage of Tehom, "the Thirteenth himself joins us this evening in celebration. Do your best to entertain him, for I believe he is seeking out his favorite."

Someone wearing proud gladiolus arrives shortly after the event itself starts, walking into the ballroom as if it is his very own territory. His head turns enough to describe his perusal of the assembled host before dismissing the lot of them and instead moving to capture a drink from a servant.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones before departing.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads comes walking into the room with a slight smile on her painted red lips. She holds the arm of another gentleman, whom is wearing a wooden mask. She looks up and grins at him. "I know you weren't looking foward to this, well not much, but I'm glad you came with me." That said, she leads to to get a drink, strong ones. Because she absolutely knows they'll be needed. Looking up at the woman in spidersilk, she gives a wink and slinks off.

Someone wearing a Emerald blindfold doesn't wear a mask per se, because rebels always have to buck the rules for whatever reason, but the black haired man in equally all black wears not a mask, but a wide and vibrant green blindfold that covers the majority of his face, leaving his jaw and mouth visible. It looks like very small holes that been stabbed through the fabric in order to allow him to actually see through while still giving some kind of perception that he's actually blindfolded. Not having taken a drink yet, decides to instead use his hip flask. Which might be borne out of personal taste rather than paranoia, looking to find an open couch to drop himself into.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask raises her glass in a silent toast to the spidersilk-clad hostess, then turns to seek out the visage of Tehom and raises said glass to him, too.

The Garden Snake strides sinuously along with his companion, the Butterfly. Arms locked, he seems the model of confidence and poise, while resting a reassuring hand on the Butterfly, as if sensing her unease. Their pace is slow, languid even, as they draw into the Masquerade.

Someone wearing a Emerald blindfold has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

A figure clad in a gown that depicts a multitude of shimmering raindrops moves with a dance in their step. They are entering with someone wearing a a shaped leather young stag mask. Caught in quiet conversation, their eyes are wide as they see all the vibrant costumes and masked figures. There is an easy sway to their hips, moving so that the jewels adorn to their mask and earrings jingle and catch the light. Stark blueish-white curls bounce against their bare back. There is no doubt a sense of wonder as they see the scenery and take in the overall detail to the room. A single thick dark eyebrow lifts upwards, exposing itself from the shelter of the mask, before they follow their companion to a quiet place, tucked away somewhere.

Stepping into the room with billowing honeysilk floating around the body, a rather androgynous figure arrives with a rather sharp and dangerous companion on its arm. That reflective surface of a mirrorsilver covered mask reflects back on the sharp and feathery mask with a canted head and a silent question. Shall we? One arm held out at distance to give their dangerous companion needed space, but offering escort all the same. A sweep of honeysilks as the figure bows low, raising up to lead their companion into the ball.

Unaccompanied by anyone, no retainer or escort, The Shining One makes her way into the main hall with a vibrant smile on her lips. A look of pure elation as she waggles her fingers the hostess' way, her other-worldly gown brushing against the floor as she moves.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask arrives in the ballroom along with the asymmetrically masked woman as his companion. His mask is set up to allow his mouth to be free to drink things, since that's the important part of the ball, in many ways. "I'll make do," he says to her, when she says he wasn't sure about it... it's true, last year was a bit difficult, but he's making an effort to party nonetheless. He does go right for wine, however.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask enters the lavish ballroom with all the confidence and bravado of a man who has sorely lost a dangerous bet; his shoulders are high and tense, and behind the skull eyeholes bright green eyes dart to take in every corner. Still, he does enter, after hesitating for a long and weighted moment at the doors, and with every step some of that anxious energy seems to ease away from him, moreso when he snatches a glass of wine and takes a bolstering gulp before lingering near the dark pool.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask enters with the crush of other masqueraders. When it is convenient, he drifts off towards the dance floor, pausing only to look up as they are welcomed before he moves along. Along the way he secures a drink from a passing server.

The woman clad in fireweave on the arm of the bird in flight masked man keeps her gloved hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm, letting him guide the pair of them through the crowd. His observation, for some reason, brings a laugh to her lips, and she tilts her head, peering up at him behind that ruby and diamond mask she wears, "Did you expect it to be less so? Or more so?" The words of the hostess meet her ears, and the meaning behind them is greeted with a grin. "Do you hear that? We've been commanded to give ourselves over to desires. Do you think you're up for the challenge?" she teases while her free hand lifts to indicate a rather dark and mysterious corner. Plenty of shadows over there to get lost in!

Someone wearing proud gladiolus has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Impala Mask keeps her hand on the arm of the robed figure wearing a Twisted Fox-goat mask. She bobs her head, the silver bangles dangling from the ears of the mask glinting as she does so, following him with a careful stride.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus's deep rust colored lips part into a smile at the Peacocks agreement. She does follow movement but not well. Win aquired rather swiftly the masked visage speaks softly to those at the couches.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun raises his glass in toast to the woman in spidersilk, and then to the visage of Tehom, before taking a deep drink from it. For the moment, he remains in "his" alcove, looking on.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask enters the extravagant ballroom upon the arm of a woman who most assuredly puts his funereal black silhouette to shame, what with her vibrant orchid blues and purples from the flower adorning her mask to the hemline of the dress brushing the polished floor. His is a predator's visage, snarling with hunger, or perhaps fear. Whatever it is, it's in the eye of the beholder tonight. The man's lips are set in a line of neutrality for the duration of their stroll toward a collection of plush couches, a safe place to park oneself amid the chaos of people conversing, locating friends, so on. He finds a suitable location and, after waiting for his date to claim a seat, joins her side. "Thank you," he replies to the compliment paid, and it is then that the corners of his mouth accommodate a smile. "And you a beautiful orchid. I /did/ see a racoon around here, speaking of prey."

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask completely forgets to be mysterious or dangerous or sly or whatever it is that he's supposed to be whensomeone comes by with glasses of wine. He chatters away to her for a moment, peppering her with questions, before realizing that the hostess of the evening is talking and belatedly plucking up a glass and toasting her from the floor.

Petal looks over to the woman with the expressless mask and ohhs softly. She puts on the reigndeer mask, securing the leather thongs behind her head. She then pads forward upon her slippery white soft socks. She glances again over the room, at the man masks. She heads over to the drinks. "I think the first part of indulging is sweets and wine..." She says in the heavy accent of a Northern Shav. She goes looking for cake and booze.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake turns to regard the hostess as she proclaims the evening's intent, as well as its guest of honor. This is an involved effort, as the cobra mask doesn't allow for peripheral vision. She has to delicately rotate her whole body in her chair. When the announcement is finished, the small yet ostentatiously decorated snake comments: "Sssssss."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals arrives, covered toe to finger to head, every inch. His posture is stiff and stately, only the flicker of his wind-gust of a scarf alleviating the stoniness of his movements and mien. On his arm is a pregnant woman dressed of sunshine and butterflies, all delicate golden chains and a long veil of silk and bright insect wings. The hem of her pale dress is likewise lively, a flitter of color accompanying her movements.

Someone wearing burlap sack has realized too late that his mask lacks a hole for the mouth. Problematic. Turning to the side a bit on the Misconduct Couch to lift up the bottom and drink deeply from his glass, his attention is drawn to the figure upon the balcony with a rapt stare. Goblet lifted in a quiet toast, he looks around for the visage of Tehom after.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features enters the ballroom as an eerie, gleaming spectre; a tall, slender figure is covered from head to toe, save for a triangle of decolette and a gleaming waterfall of dark hair left to spill freely in waves along the back. The further the mirrored figure drifts into the ballroom, the more it becomes obvious that the flawlessness of the mask the mirrored figure wears is in decay - a train drags heavily behind them as if dripping, and teardrop-shaped silver beads fall from each gloved fingertip. There's nothing spoken from the Melting Mirror, just a slow circuit around the ballroom, examining all the masks and finery on display.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones looks up when the spidersilk clad woman speaks from the balcony, then glances curiously over towards the visage of Tehom. Both of her brows raise ever so slightly, which is shown by her mask moving up just the slightest. She curiously regards him, then turns her attention back to the crowd to see who is moving where. Whether she actually believes Tehom is among them remains undecided.

Petal looks over to the hissing snake and a soft oh, escapes her lips like she is trying to be an owl, but she is not an owl, she is a reign deer, sort of. She reaches the table of drinks and offerings, finding the biggest sweetest and most impressive little cake she can.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus finds his way across to the couch and reclines into the fabric. To begin with he just watches the ballroom and savors the wine but when one of the other couch occupants speak he tilts his gaze their way and drawls a soft answer.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom holds a glass of wine in his hand as he could be watching. The mask is hard to tell, but he looks over towards everyone that enters. When he is pointed out by the hostess there is a shake of his head. Then he moves to find a seat to join into the party.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water invites to anyone looking for a seat, "Don't be shy, lovely ones, Emerald and I are without question the most entertaining people here." He sounds foreign.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage enters with the sound of a tap, tap, tap as pale long fingers hold a cane which strikes the floor with each step. The pewter crow that grips the top of the cane looks on at the glittering reflective surfaces of masks and jewelry with hunger.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask looks around at those nearby. "I thought the whole point of this thing was not telling people your name," he says, though he sounds like an Oathlander. Though he's one drinking wine instead of the usual stereotypes, so there is that. He flops onto the couch casually and gets comfortable.

There's laughter and he has to admit, "I'm really not sure. Maybe I thought the crush of bodies wouldn't be so overwhelming as my memory suggested it was. But no, I find the memory to be accurate." The man wearing a bird in flight mask, follows the directions of the woman wearing a vibrant and glittering half mask of rubies and diamonds, "I heard, yes. I think that I'm feeling quite ready for this particular challenge." He turns his body from her slightly, snatching a glass of wine off of a passing try and holding it up to her inspection. Then it's to the shadows, where they can seclude themselves in mystery and indulge in the night's revelries.

hmms softly to the whoever is in the elven looking mask. "You look hungry." She says and tries to give him the frosted cake she gathered.

Someone wearing an Ebony Goat mask slips on into the ballroom, the goat-like creature that he is, looking about this way and that. "Look for myself and there she will be," he murmurs under his breath. "So. Maybe a mirror mask?" He seems to be trying to figure out the riddle.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads looks around and spies Petal, giving the woman a wiggle of her fingers before her gold-flecked green eyes turn upon the snake. She considers the woman as she takes a drink, head tilted. She leans against the gentleman in the Horned Skull Wooden Mask and murmurs,"Think you can tell a person by their accent alone,"though she doesn't look convinced, her accent very much southern.

Someone wearing a Emerald blindfold snorts in laugh, tilting back his hip flask afterwards. "What my friend here says is that we're probably going to be the two chucklefucks that're going to play peanut gallery and quietly make fun of various masks as if they were they were not-so-subtle commentary on the wearer's personalities." A beat. "So what I mean to say is that we're probably going to be horribly horribly catty."

The Garden Snake catches the sound of a hiss, and turns to regard the source. Noting a fellow serpent, but a far deadlier cobra, he inclines his head slightly as he remarks to his companion. "I ssshall have to ssstay away from that ssserpent." His voice is low, artificially sibilant, very much as if he truly possessed a forked tongue. "Ssssome sssnakes are cannibalistic..."

Someone wearing a mirrored, night-black mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask glides through the group, looking up to the brilliant woman introducing 'Tehom'. She glances to the man in question, canting her head slightly, studying him from behind her fox mask. She turns on her heels, looking for a place to sit. She finds what she considers the perfect place. A shadowy alcove sparks her interest. As she makes her way to the alcove, she takes a glass of red wine, lifting it to her lips.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies's gaze is difficult to track beneath her veil, but the tilt and turn of her head are telling, the crowd scanned with a barely contained excitement. There's a lightness to her steps which defies the state of her body, which complements the hint of chilly wind at her side and benefits from the otherwise weighty impression of his attire tonight, all icy crystals and heavy stygian. The delicate wings of the butterflies upon her veil seem nearly to flutter as she tips her head torward her ice-laden companion to murmur something for his ears alone. Not that it's difficult to guess the intention: which bit of mischief shall they see to first?

Someone wearing The Shining One makes her way to the Expressionless Mask with a graceful curtsy, her hands given a little flourish as she rises. "Congratulations. On just so many things, I don't even know where to begin." And she doesn't elaborate beyond that, simply smiling and slinking away to allow for other to converse with them.

Someone wearing a mirrored, night-black mask is sold by Emerald blindfold's pitch and heads in that direction.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom seems to have picked the first seat of the evening. His focus solely on those that sit with him.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

"Oh, listen to this one," Moonlight chides Emerald blindfold, but doesn't disagree. He sounds amused. "Horribly catty?! No, entertainingly catty!"

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing The Shining One has joined the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus's expression save her lips is unseen, it's hard to tell if she heard the annoucement of the festivities begining. The bone and amber decorated figure smiles to the Proud Gladiolus and replies quietly before her head tips the direction of the Peacock in her vicinity.

Someone wearing Impala Mask ushers Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask towards the Scandal couch, joining it and striking up conversation with others there. Her gaze sweeps the room between snippets of conversations, her horns marking her progress like mishapen telescopes as she does so.

Someone wearing an Antlered Buck Mask arrives, walking with calm and collected strides, making quite certain that they don't catch their antlers on the doorway. They cast a glance about, offering a low, throaty chuckle. "What am I doing? Like I'd recognize anyone at a glance." They make their way toward snacks. Snacks are always welcome.

looks to one snake and then to another snake and then back to other snake. "Snake fight..." She says in her heavy Northern Shav accent.

Beneath her beaded butterfly mask, the woman next to the gilded snake has wide eyes. "We'll avoid other snakes, then." Her head moves around, searching the room and smiling as she sees a few particular masks in the crowd. "Hm. Drinks?" She looks up at her companion hopefully.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features is either intrigued by the suggestion of mockery, or by the possibility of gossip. Either way, the Melting Mirror drifts toward the Impropriety couch and settles, leaning to whisper something to one of the couch's other inhabitants.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage flicks back one long strand of white silken hair behind a pointed ear as it looks to the frosted cake, "Famished. The last party I went to, there were surprise pies. Will this have a surprise too?"

Skirts of starlight silk swish back and forth in a decadent way as Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones starts to make her way over to one of the places that has at least a few other folk, finally making her way from the wall where she was flowering at some point. Her gown and outfit seem to represent that of a falling star. She inclines her head to those at the Impropriety Couch and then makes her way to sit down there, to observe once more, and perhaps make light conversation.

Skirts of starlight silk swish back and forth in a decadent way as Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones starts to make her way over to one of the places that has at least a few other folk, finally making her way from the wall where she was flowering at some point. Her gown and outfit seem to represent that of a falling star. She inclines her head to those at the Impropriety Couch and then makes her way to sit down there, to observe once more, and perhaps make light conversation.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

The laughter carries, and the woman in her half mask of rubies and diamonds turns into the bird in flight man, gloved hand touching his chest. "Were you overwhelmed that night?" she queries, mischief in her voice and a smirk at her lips. "Imagine how you will feel tonight when we fully take the advice of the hostess." The promise made, she claims the glass he has procured, holding it up to the light. "Perfect," she determines without a taste, and seems not to mind at all that they have but one glass between them. They weave through the crowds, the hundreds of glass beads and stones on her train catching the sparkle of the light and reflecting back in the mirrors all around them. TO one of those mirrors she looks, the shadows moving, the temptation visible. A quick intake of breath, and she turns back to her companion. "Will we dance tonight?"

Slowing nodding, with the benefit of full motion of his head, the Twilight Garden Snake casts his gaze around the room, mirroring that of his Twilight Garden Butterfly companion. "I think that that is a fine idea." He inclines his head in direction, and leads her towards refreshments.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask seems focused on his drink with a nervous intensity that can only belong to first-timers, but he catches the invitation the other partygoer casts out to the floor and stiffly makes his way over to the couch, bowing his head briefly to the other occupants before taking a seat and throwing back another laaarge gulp of his wine.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake turns her whole body again, at the mention of a snake fight. The semiprecious stone eyes of the mask, and the shaped leather hood covering the whole head, do not allow for even the slightest bit of expression. It's just a blank snake stare, first at the one who said 'snake fight' and then at the other snake in question. A long moment follows, before: "Sssssss~." Then the cobra turns again, to focus on the Shining One sitting at her table. Apparently her plans to use the Velenosa Party as an excuse to indulge cannibalism are waylaid for at least a good fifteen minutes or so!

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus speaks to his companions on the decadent couch as he lazily scans the room.

The winter fawn or rather the reign deer hmms softly as she she still holds the frosted cake lifted and resting in her small bare hand, the calloused hand of a girl who works. "I don't know. I think it could. It is a southern cake on a blood moon after all." She murmurs, still in her accent, her voice is gentle and her slender body just suddenly tense. She peeks over the room once again and then back toward the elven masked person. "I hope it has a surprise." She adds.

Someone wearing pure bright aeterna molded into an expressionless mask and dipped in diamond dust makes her way from the second floor, steps slow as she takes the stairs one graceful step at a time. She dips her head towards The Shining One within the ceramic mask, and despite not being able to see her face it seems the woman might be smiling beneath as her tone is soft, "thank you. Lets hope that there are many more things in the future to add to the list." Then she allows the woman to slip away without further comment. Her eyes scan the room, taking in each mask as she passes along her way to greet others.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask fiddles with his cup of wine a bit and drifts along the edges of the room. Aside from hiding his identity, the mask he wears also hides what he's doing. He could be nervously wallflowering. He could be taking in the atmosphere and watching the people. He could be trying to figure out if he knows anyone, or maybe trying to keep anyone from knowing him. Endless possibility, really, for what amounts to walking a short distance from one point to another and doing a lot of looking around.

Someone wearing an Antlered Buck Mask fills a mug tall with well-fermented cider and casually leans against of the walls, taking the opportunity to lazily people-watch, such as it is. Basking in conversation without necessarily taking the effort to mingle of their own accord.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus seems full of energy. She's practically entirely through her first glass of wine and her head turns back and forth as if trying to focus on what she can hear. Something said at the Decadent couches makes her laugh and she shakes her head leaning a bit towards the masked Galdiolus.

The Butterfly and her Snake are in luck, a passing servant bears wine that they both may take a glass of. THen, the Butterfly nods toward a couch. "Let's find some conversation with strangers. I have no ide what else I'm to do, aside from owing you a dance. Maybe two. If I don't break your foot and find you tolerable enough."

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies's smile can just barely be seen beneath her veil, all wide and delighted at whatever her boulder-masked companion has answered. "Nothing will ever be quite as it was," she agrees, the brightness of her voice implying this is undeniably a good thing. Her gaze turns toward a particularly shadowy corner of the ballroom as she adds, "That's where I began. I think. Though I may be conflating one memory with another. Or several." She hovers for a moment on that thought as if she might consider picking apart those tangled threads, but no. No. Her focus moves on toward a face of performative grief, of mourning, and she wonders idly, asks of her icy companion, "Is that my reflection I spy?" No, really, she's asking, the tone entirely thoughtful, philosophical.

"I ssshall endeavor to prove mysssself worthy of more than two, my beautiful butterfly." The Snake of the Twilight Garden takes the wine glass and moves fluidly with the Butterly of the Twilight Garden, heading towards the indicated couch.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull arrives, following Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask pauses for a sip of wine, eyeing Tehom's dice. "I like games with prizes, but in this case, I think I would be satisfied with just a game. I'm not sure it would be the kind of prize I would like, after all."

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage replies back to the northern doe as a hand lifts to draw a fingertip along the icing before bringing the finger to the lips to taste the sweetness. "Alas." it says, slightly disappointed, "No suffering or delightful painful sensations. Maybe it'll be a slow acting poison or one that needs a particular combination. One can hope, can't we." Looking at the room, it says "Isn't it nice how the shadows dance with the candlelight? And have you dared to dance and look at the mirror yet?"

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask finishes her wine before setting it upon the tray of a passing server. Another glass of something boozy is taken before she turns back to her hushed conversation within the alcove. She leans back comfortably, almost as if she lives here.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals treads deliberately toward the shadowy corner. "Memory," he says toward the woman masked in sunshine and butterflies, "is a better guide than mere whim, at least." He turns his head toward the face of grief. He says, "Grief and delight are reflection enough. As are heaviness and flight. It seems meet to introduce yourself before the night is out. We must always face that which oppose us."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a hazy veil is late, but that's fine. She's alone, which is also perfectly all right, and she slowly begins a slow, unhurried circle about the room, with wine plucked from somewhere-or-the-other.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies has joined the Shadowy Corner.

The Reflection turns towards a shift of movement nearby, facing the one in the gold and sapphire mask. Sweeping a bow towards the masked figure before rising up, offering a nod of greeting. Remaining silent, that bright mirrorsilver surface watches for a moment, head tilted just so to indicate a quiet interest.

The Man in the Peacock Mask is the purveyor of wine and descriptions to his companion with the hooded eyes, the Saturniidae moth. The evening is already becoming dim enough that she probably has more troubles than she did en route. He waits for her to finish his glass of wine before plucking it unceremoniously from her hand to replace it with a fresh glass. There are more soft murmurs at that couch.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has joined the Inviting Couches.


A man standing beside the thick pool of unknown ingredients lifts his voice as the liquid bubbles and appears almost alive. "Come test your luck and reach inside the pool to see what you might find!" As if spurred on by his voice, an eel slithers to the surface and disappears beneath just as quickly.

((OOC oldcheck luck at 5=Jaenelle and please be patient with me! You might need to page me with who you are to get your paged reaction.))


Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask peels out of the shadoy alcover, boozy glass in hand and makes her way forward to test her luck! She is not shy. The foxy mask has dark eyes that stare out from behind it and she slips her hand into the pool.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 9 higher.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning arrives with the mirrored reflection, wearing an outfit made of thousands of tiny rubicund blades shaped like feathers and she laughs in husky delight at the surroundings. "Just as I remember. Shall we play?"

"I was," he admits, taking his eyes off of the crowd that he navigates to look down and over to his companion in a vibrant and glittering half mask of rubies and diamonds. "But only because there was something else I wanted to spend all of my attention on and none of it was a crowd of other people." His mouth is visible, so she can see that smile when it comes, sly and secretive, the knowledge behind it known only to her. "I think so, we didn't dance last time. And it would be a shame to not this time around, don't you think?" He follows her gaze, his eyes trained to the mirrors that call to her. "Should we stand in front of them tonight? So many things we willfully missed out on."

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask bows to the Reflection, then, facing them, blinks a few times. "A bit like talking to myself, isn't it rather?" He asks after a moment. "Although I suppose that might be better than talking to a total stranger. Will you dance, this evening?"

Someone wearing burlap sack raises his sacked head up higher at the invitation to plunge a hand into the pool of viscous, bubbling liquid. He stands up and marches forth, twigs and leaves rustling. Waiting after the Black Fox-Faced mask takes her chance, he downs the rest of his wine and reaches in, grasping about.

makes a small motion, shifting from small sock covered foot to small sock covered foot with a subtle hint of seeming restlessness. She peeks over to the sound of laughter, to a a butterfly who speaks of memories and a snake who speaks of butterflies. Her shift is of simple white linen, but in its own silkness way showcases the fawn's form. "No...have you?" She says, takes a bite of the cake, gets frosting on her lips, tries to hand the rest the one in an elven mask. She then tries to boldly reach for the being's arm whoever they are, maybe to draw them to the mirror or into a dance.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads is talking to her comanions at the scandal couch, drinking just as much. She lifts her gaze to the mirrors as if to make a point. She nods her head, her red lips curving into a smile. "I have every intention of looking, though I'm not sure if they'll show me anything. I've yet to be that fortunate..."

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies eyes her companion sidelong as they turn toward the shadows, her smile unwavering. "Without whim, we might be caught treading the same tired, tragic paths forever," she poses airily, a suggestion, perhaps, an invitation for disagreement from her companion all in crystal. And, oh! She finds further argument to make for his last, asking, "Must we?" with more solidity. "Not that I don't /want to/, but I don't believe you can convince me that we /must/." Perhaps she simply delights in laying down challenge as she does very little to wait for his argument or follow it through, too focused on those gathered where they're headed, her veiled smile wide and half-hidden beneath a sky blue butterfly.

Someone wearing Impala Mask flashes a grin to her companions on the scandal couch, taking up a drink and leaning in to murmur lowly to someone in a twisted fox-goat mask while chatting to others settled at the scandal couch.

A twist of cloth billows off of their back, as they jingle softly in each movement. A laugh to something said at the misconduct couch. "Well, if we're to be our daring selves, then may we find as much mischief as possible."

Nodding to the sharply feathered woman at its side, the Reflection offers support by way of a careful but firm arm offered, and a light touch to the small of the back, deftly avoiding the tiny blades. Leading them to the man standing at the pool, offering small, almost dancelike movements, to keep its companion from injuring passersby with the very dangerous gown.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask shakes his head from the couch... the mirrors, which he has braved before, seem to make him wary this time around. He starts a second drink as the same as the first. "...I'm not very lucky," he says, but there is the temptation of a challenge. But he raises his glass to those who are braving it.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones has left the The Impropriety Couch.

"Some masked woman you never saw again?" the woman in the half mask of rubies and diamonds guesses, the playfulness in her voice apparent. They reach their corner, and he speaks of standing out in front of them tonight, and instead she drags him into the shadows, extending her arm out and walking backward until they're 'hidden' from sight.

Someone wearing a mirrored, night-black mask in a tiny yet very effective mask reaches their hand into the pool.

"Without musts, without set paths and sure rules, what is to keep us from flittering off into the air in a thousand pointless directions," says the man presenting as a crystal-studded boulder to the woman of sunshine and butterflies. He sounds duly cross. "Is there not tragedy in chaos? You cannot tell me otherwise."

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones rises from the impropriety couch and makes her way over to the ooze game. She waits her turn patiently as she gets in line behind a bunch of others. She doesn't give the impropriety couch a backwards glance at all.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water laughs at Flawless Eerily Blank and at something this person has said. "Oh what are you like?" he accuses. "Gaping Maw! No, I'm not dancing, I'm going to go stick my hands in unknown ooze."

Someone wearing a hazy veil pauses on her journey, lips pressing together thoughtfully as she eyes that oozing pool - then sighs, deeply, and checks the hand NOT holding a wine glass, and then simply decides to wander towards the oozing pool - and on her way there, her lips quirk as she captures the arm of the woman with the scintillating gemstone mask, whispering, "Guess who, dearest! I decided to pop in."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is ignoring the whole of the party if they are not at his current seat. Those he seems to be asking questions of and offering ... is that dice? Taloned 'hands' roll dice upon them and offer it to those he sits with.

hmms softly to the Boulder. "Everything without a must is a choice and every choice becomes a path in one way or another. Every must is a still a choice, a choice to hold to the musts and shoulds and betters."

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask takes a long swig of their cider and releases an equally long and contented sigh before drifting over toward the pool, clearly driven by curiosity to test their luck. "Well, let's see what the fates have in store, on tonight of all nights."

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl seems to float into the room, moving with slow languid steps their aeterna cloak flowing behind them like a winter flurry. Pausing only briefly to survey the room, their mirrorsilver mask canting left and right with what appears to be scrutiny of the other guests. After a moment they behind to walk about the room again with that slow unhurried pace.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features rises in a single languid, graceful movement, which only strengthens the eerie illusion that the entirety of their garments are melting. They make a rude gesture directed at someone at the Impropriety Couch who is wearing a moonlight mask, and then ooze along toward one of the other couches, having seized upon something recognizable - or perhaps just drawn by whim.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage says over to the Horned Skull, "Now that's a head worthy of taking." as it's being taken by the hand by the northern doe to wherever. It doesn't move quickly, the pewter crow taps along the ballroom floor. To the doe, it leads them more towards the pool of wondrous bravery and says "Why don't we test our luck. Imagine if we get pulled in, but I wouldn't suggest does trying to breath underwater."

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask says to the one in the asymmetrical mask.... "Well, all right. I'm no coward. Let's both give it a try, but... you can go first." He smirks, which is visible beneath the mask.

Someone wearing a Emerald blindfold tilts his flask at the Flawless Shiny Mask or whatever as they leave. "Clearly were too pessimistic and disdainful. And here I heard that was the in thing right now. And I didn't even know!" he says to Moonlight Over Water as the other gets up to leave. "Do let me know how your hands feel afterward."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom marginally fails.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus continues conversation with her couch companions looking the direction of the call for people game to plunge into the unknown. She seeks another glass of wine and leans to listen to the Peacock.

Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay checks luck and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay is successful.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask replies to the one in the shadowy elf mask... but he's standing up, as he does so. "All right. I've decided not to be a coward about it. I'll try my luck. Worst thing that can happen is a dirty hand. Or drowning, there is THAT."

Fashionably late as such occasions often demand, the two figures that slip through the entryway of the grand Velenosan ballroom appear deliberately dressed to be mirror images of one another; a tall lissome figure garbed in black and silver accompanies an even taller and broader figure clad in white and gold, evocative perhaps of the impossible picture of the moon and the sun being in one place in the same hour, at the same time, instead of chasing one another across the skies. Almost, but not quite; she who is wearing a half-mask fashioned in a matte black skull sketches the image of a story's end upon her attire, from the headdress of seasonal blooms winding through an upswept coiffure of dark curls, with colors slowly fading at the middle of its circumference, and how a midnight umbra underdress is sheathed by an overdress of inky lace, flawlessly stitched and detailed but gradually fraying the closer these sartorial details drip to the floor. A pale hand is secured on her escort's elbow as they move, the chiaroscuro she makes passing through light and shadow, but there is at least one spot of vibrant color upon the monichromatic palette to give it some semblance of character and dimension; apple-red lacquer highlights the shape of her visible mouth, presently tilted in a slight smile as she murmurs to her companion.

"Can't I?" counters the veiled woman in butterflies and sunshine. A brief, airy laugh follows, and she concedes to the icy boulder beside her, "You're right, yes. There's tragedy, but so too is there delight. Freedom." She looks to the one who walks the middle, who speaks of how choice defines paths and opts not to nod, lips drawn thin with thought beneath that veil.

Someone wearing Impala Mask says, "Please do know if you drown in that I will have no choice but to mock you, My horny lord."

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads says something to the others about the ooze pool, and with that said.., goes to walk over, an amused look at the man wearing the Horned Skull. Leaning over carefully leaning over, she places her hand in wrinkling her nose a bit ath feel of the the liquid. When she goes to pull her hand however, she--CAN'T. She tugs and tugs, her face showing a bit of panic. "What the fu--,"her southern accent laced with conern. When she starts to take take deep breaths, and her the grip releases, she finally is able to pull her hand free. "That was was---well,"opening her hand to produce a duskstone.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning glances aside to her mirror-masked companion, enjoying the view of herself within its depths. "You couldn't have chosen a better mask to suit my vanity, you know." As she walks, there's a slight limp noticeable, and the lean upon her companion maybe end up cutting if great care isn't taken.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask seems to have calmed his nerves at least a touch with several gulps of red, and at the mention of a prize he eases to his feet and follows the crowd, lingering near the pool and waiting his turn to reach in with arms firmly crossed over his chest -- cup awkwardly clutched under one elbow, as if it were a lifeline. As each contestent reaches into the murky depths, he takes another stiff slug of wine, unabashedly seeking more liquid courage.

The goat notes the woman wearing the unnaturally reflective mask on the Impropriety Couch and makes his way over towards her, bowing his head, with its horns, as he approaches. "I do not know if you are who I am looking for," he says as he sits. "But happy Masquerade to you nonetheless."

Someone wearing an Ebony Goat mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

There's an odd flickering of light at the Libertine table, as though things have darkened around the masked women conversing. It's very brief and all is as it should be soon enough. NO BIG DEAL.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water has briefly departed his companions at the Impropriety Couch to stick his hands boldly, bravely into the ooze pool. He does this with the cavalier confidence of someone who habitually makes bad choices. It takes a goopy couple of moments, but he does eventually retrieve a... something, and pleased, returns to his companions.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun slips out of the shadowy alcove as well to approach the pool of dark ooze. His dark eyes regard it for a moment before reaching in with a steady hand.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features slips between the couches like a wraith lingering in the night, and eventually approaches one masked reveler, albeit one whose couch is entirely full and also presently occupied by Tehom himself. Nonetheless, the Melted Mirror leans in and murmurs something to the reveler.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask looks at the object in the hands of the scarlet masked woman. "Well, that was quite lucky." He'll take his own try.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones glances over toward the woman wearing the hazy veil. She recognizes the voice and a light smile dances upon her lips. "Oh! I'm so glad you could make it," she grins in the other woman's direction. "I was about to go put my hand in some ooze, see what I might find. I sent a long some perfume and a pair of Ida's hairpins to the pool. Hoping I don't get one of those back," she says with a light chuckle.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask dips her hand further into the pool, reaching around. She pauses, looking to the man by the pool. "What am I searching for?" She inquires.

tilts her delicate chin, looking to the elven visage and sucking in a soft and thoughtful breath. Her brown eyes are warm with a touch of excitement and maybe even a touch of nervousness, but her expression still suggests a hidden smile. "One never knows as I have never tried." She says, now drawing near to the pool which she studies with curious interest, peeking down toward such.

A far brighter image than his companion, the man in the golden half-skull mask is no less monochromatic - colors beyond white and gold seem entirely absent, aside from the vivid blue of his gaze that turns over the crowded ballroom. Whatever murmur is offered by the woman on his arm is given an equally muted response, the corners of his lips turning upwards with faint amusement. It doesn't bring any change in the pace of the course he cuts through the ballroom, a brief stop made to collect a pair of wine glasses before leading towards one of the quieter seating arrangements.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 20 higher.

Someone wearing Impala Mask muses to someone twisted fox-goat mask, "You know, for a night for debauchery I would have imagined all manner of amusements but not one where we put our hands in mystery muck. I find it's an excellent metaphor, if one looks at it juuuust right."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals says the icy boulder to the veiled woman in butterflies and sunshine, and also to the other participant, "Freedom. Delight. Light-seeming words that light a path that is no path. You will make your choices, you will veer from the musts and the shoulds, and in five years, you will look back and realize you have lost yourself utterly." He shakes his head heavily.

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask gives a bright, amused laugh at the Impala's observation. "Oh, but I hope it's just a way to break the ice, and not an indication of further things to come." He does look curiously towards where the woman in the mirrorsilver beads and the man in the horned skull mask are, to see if they've come away without a hand, presumably.

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl has joined the The Scandal Couch.

"I nearly didn't." The one in the hazy veil drawls, "But the cook ran out of those little pastries I wanted, and so I decided to amuse myself in some other way." She looks towards those dipping their hands into the muck, "Do tell me it doesn't /stick/ to you. Or that it doesn't remove color - I've only just stained my nails again."

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage says over to the black fox-face, "A skull? Perhaps a heart? Maybe you'll be lucky and a spider encased in a bubble might crawl out and dance." And so the elf and the northern deer make their way to the pool. It peers at the surface before it holds the cane under one arm and the long pale fingers move slowly to curl the cuff of the jerkin and roll it up. "Oh, I feel lucky tonight." and slowly it dips the hand and arm to the elbow into the mysterious muck.

Someone wearing The Shining One has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun shrugs lazily at the question from the woman in the Fox-Faced mask. "I'm guessing we will know it when we feel it?" he suggests in response to her, a hint of amusement in his local-accented voice.

Someone wearing burlap sack stops at the edge of the inky, roiling pool. Something has caught his attention in the sort of way to both fascinate and give pause. Staring, he finally sinks in an arm up to the elbow and grasps about, tugging and making a surprised sound muffled beneath the burlap appearing silk. A triumphant cry rings out and a fist dripping ooze reappears, clutching a shiny stone within it. "Right then. Thank -you- ooze pool, I will raise a glass in your honor." He flashes a grin at the Expressionless one in her radiance and returns to his couch.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones gets up to the pool and very carefully sticks her hand in. There's a visible wince as her arm goes in, and a slight audile gasp to other standing around the pool. "There's something in there!" she calls out, though there's no alarm in her voice. Even still, she feels around only just so long and when she backs away she has a piece of stygian in her hand. She makes space for the next person and looks at the stygian with a critical expression. "Huh. Now what to do with that.... I wonder." Her other hand, the one not gooped up with ooze, reaches out to touch a conflagration of precious stones spreading away from a star iron center in a thoughtful manner.

The turtle walks about, looking at the place while enjoying things.

looks over to the Boulder and rises slightly to the balls of her sock covered feet. "No regrets." She says gently in her accent, before sticking out her small pink tongue in the rock's direction. She then looks over to the elven visage, thoughtfully, brown eyes wide and serious like a fawn in hiding. Still she nods. She then turns to the pool. The girl seems baffled what to do with the pool and finally she bends down, pulls off a white sock stained with the earth and while looking at the water she dips a toe in the pool.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies reaches across herself to touch her free hand to her gloomily ice-bound companion, though whether it's meant it comfort or gratitude is entirely unclear, her features unclear beneath her veil. "What's so terrible about losing oneself?" she wonders, this with more certainty than some of her other inquiries. "If there is nothing to be gained from abandon, from surrender, then why have we come here tonight, my darling? Perhaps I ought find a hammer, an icepick, and see how all that chilliness shatters, who you are once you've lost yourself, mm?" But her gaze turns back the way they came, out of the shadows, off into chaos, and she murmurs something softer.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus listens and her head tilts as she downs her second glass of wine like she were drinking water. She looks between the conversational companions who are at the Decadant Couches and speaks quietly.

Someone wearing The Shining One makes her way to the shadowed feathery warning with a curious look, her lips curving into a smile. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met." She extends a hand to the masked woman. "Or maybe we have, it's so hard to tell, isn't it?" She gives a little chuckle.

Someone wearing The Shining One says, "s voice sounds very much like Alessia up close."

Someone wearing a black wolf mask checks luck at normal. Someone wearing a black wolf mask is successful.

Having been lured away from her Snake by the Wind Dancer, the Butterfly moves to the dance floor. "I apologize if I stomp on your toes."

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has left the Libertine Table.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning glances aside to The Shining One and laughs low, the rubicund feather-blades of her outfit shivering with the low, rough sound. "Oh, I think we might have, a time or two. You look... breathtaking. What was the inspiration?"

Someone wearing Impala Mask takes the occasional sip of her drink and observes the antics and milling about of the revellers inbetween moments of conversation with others at the scandal couch.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells checks charm and performance at normal. Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells is successful.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask is gradually, by degrees, drawn in the direction of the ooze pool, circling it like he's circling a drain, gradually being drawn in. Finally he sets his glass of wine aside and sighs, then takes off his coat and starts removing the velveteen gloves with care.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features tilts their head, a gleaming curtain of ebon hair falling to land partially on the Wolf masked gentleman's shoulder as they listen to the response. A nod, a small motion of one hand, indicating where Melting Mirror will be when there's an opportune moment.

The Reflection looks up from the pool as the gold and sapphire mask approaches, head canting and holding out arms in an offering to hold their coat and gloves while they fish for prizes.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake stands from the Libertine Table, a bit unsteady on her feet. Maybe she's found a way to get booze into that cobra mask -- MAYBE what looks like a forked leather tongue is actually a cleverly disguised straw! But that might just be wishful thinking. The cobra, who's awfully short of stature now that she's out of her chair, watches the Shining One walk away, and seems to linger in place in a way that suggests indecision... but then, all that must be read into the woman's body language south of the neck, because north of it, it's just a big leather snake head. After a time, she joins the line to plunge her hands into mysterious fluid.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus says something to the pair at the couch with him before moving to his feet and moving off into the crowd.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus smiles to the Gladiolus and lifts a ringed hand to wave. "Good Luck!"

Someone wearing proud gladiolus has left the Decadent Couch.

"Can you save yourself from regrets by simply denying them?" The icy boulder asks of the girl with a light scoff, before turning to the veiled woman of sunshine and butterflies. His posture is unyielding, of course, under her hand. He says, like an admission, "The night of the red moon is a night of folly. Even I engage in some part of it with my presence, even if I do not dance, play, or shatter. Keep your ice pick sheathed. I will forgive your follies if you will tolerate mine." Softer admission, there, as he, too, turns his attention back to the shadows.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones tucks the piece of stygian away in a pocket somewhere, and then makes her way over to the dance floor. She eyes it considering, staying out of the way of those who might be dancing freely. A light smirk touches her lips, as some thought comes to her.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask offers his coat, with the gloves neatly tucked into a pocket, over to the Reflection, the better to keep it from getting coated in ooze, then, getting a bit more into the spirit of the evening, gives a somber half-bow of thanks rather than make another attempt to speak.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones glances back to the hazy veiled woman. She hasn't gone far in her meanderings. "It doesn't stick as far as I can tell. There's towels to dry off. But mind what's inside," is all the warning she gives to the other woman.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

"I got it from home. It's amazing the things you dig up after searching. Sometimes from a loooong time ago." The Shining One responds to the feathered warning's question, her lips spreading into a grin. "And might I ask the same thing as you, beyond red /obviously/ being your color? You do look ravishing."

Someone wearing a black wolf mask checks luck at hard. Someone wearing a black wolf mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask had looked to have his fill of the glass procured; a rather fragrant scotch that he set aside once their company had made themselves welcome. Antlered head was poised off to listen to the Storm Cloud before remarking to the Matte Black Skull, "We have not, no, my lady. The throng of revelers initially caught us by entire surprise; the Storm Cloud struck with awe as I, too, found the initial entry rather exciting. Too seldom it is we see such a gathering of characters in one space for an evening." His delivery of words were very much unlike the others; wherein they had something in common where their Islander's accent, he most certainly did /not/ sport such. It had an air of an accent of the South, typical of the Lyceum. A smirk danced from under muzzle, bowing his head to the Storm Cloud, "One night only? We shall take advantage before the evening is through." Smoky quartz for eyes glanced at the two Skulls as the Cloud spoke, gauging their reactions and body language before he chimed in, "All we require is a push, no? That sprinkle of fear that takes root as hairs on the end of your neck? I trust it has become quite a motivator for the most daring of folk." Visage glanced off to the Golden Skull, "Oh, quite the opposite. I would crumble and wither if I were placed in a box not of my making, my lord."

Someone wearing a black wolf mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a black wolf mask fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails.

The jingling of bells as the dancing breeze and butterfly take to spinning and hopping around the dance floor echoes off of the walls while the breeze laughs in each spin.

Taking the coat and gloves, keeping the former folded neatly over her arm, gloves in hand. A small gesture of luck offered to the one in the gold and sapphire mask. Leaning in closer towards its feathery and bladed companion, soft words may be exchanged.

Someone wearing a hazy veil peeks at the scintillating gemstone's prize, "How-- well, it can be used for something quite pretty, I'm sure." She looks at it skeptically, before she reaches for the ooze-- and almost immediately tries to bring her fingers out - but after all, she's ALREADY there. "Ugh, it's cold." She complains, and has a full gulp of wine - for warmth, clearly - and her lips press together while she continues to feel about, until finally pulling her arm back, checking the object in her hand, "Oh, what a lovely color! I suppose it was worth the unpleasantness." Pleased, she steps away so another may try their hand at the pool, showing her pretty prize to the woman in the scintillating mask.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus stands carefully and looks around. She checks on her peacock masked companion before she starts to drift slowly and deluberately the direction she's pretty sre that the dance floor is in. "Only fair." The visage of Death agrees and follows after towards the dancers.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a black wolf mask marginally fails.

The room starts to take on that ominous red tint, through the windows and of course with the many mirrors in place.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom marginally fails.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning flashes a grin to the Shining One from beneath the sharp rubicund of the mask. "I had Master Zakher design it for me. All I stipulated was 'sharp'. And I think he took my meaning quite literally." The feathered danger shifts, wincing. "Would you perhaps like to claim a seat and catch up amidst all this din? I'm afraid I've turned an ankle and I'm not weathering it as well as I'd like." This is punctuated by a deep scowl. "Hard to lean on people when your outfit is literal blades."

Someone wearing A Peacock Mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing A Peacock Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask looks up as the room starts to get tinted, watching that color change happen. It doesn't make him too happy, but he does at least return to the couch, now with a stronger whiskey. "So it's starting now," he says.

Someone wearing The Shining One has joined the Shadowy Corner.

The Butterfly is overcome with laughtr as the Wind Dancer pulls her along. He is a far more accomplished dancer than she is. Still, she makes the best of the moment and stumbles along with his steps. However, that reddening tint to the room has her stumbling more. "Oh! I should..." She apologizes to th e Wind Dancer. "I should return to my Snake once we're done."

At last, it's Dragonskull's turn at the pool; somewhat awkwardly he sets his wineglass down at his side, takes a deep breath, and -- utterly fails to plunge his hand into the pool. Somehow. He grunts in surprise, fingers flexing and grasping across the surface of the slime, but...despite his best efforts, they simply slide and bounce. The man straightens, glancing sharply around as if expecting some joke at his expense...and then a bit of star iron bobs to the surface. Warily, he snatches it up before it can sink again, turning the metal over and over in his palm as if to confirm it's real. When the light in the room bleeds into red, his anxiety seems to return in full force, and he quickly moves to a corner of the room so that his back is to the wall.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask laughs at the comments made by Dusk. She then retracts her hand, the ooze dripping from her hands and into the pool. It is unclear what it is she has retrieved from the pool of yet. However, she grins and looks back to the man in the Dusk Sun mask. "I guess we will see." Laughter spills from her, even as the room begins to take on a red tint. The laughter fades and she glances around, overhearing the words about it beginning. In spite of it being an eerie thing, the woman in the Black Fox Mask is very entertained.

Someone wearing Impala Mask says, "Oh, good, It's normal. I had begun to wonder. I still wonder if it was wise to wear something I had wished to avoid staining." She sips her wine and muses, "All things revealed in good time no doubt."

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask tilts back another long draught of hardened cider and pauses as the room begins to take on a red tint. Reaching up, its owner casually reaches up to rest the empty mug atop of one of the crooks in their antlers. "Ought to have antlers more often. Absolutely wonderful convenience, keeping one's hands free."

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask might seem to be a little more tense as the room changes tone. His fingers fold together, pointedly, as if to stop himself from fidgeting, leaning forward to focus on the conversation at the couch.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones brightens and claps her hands when the hazy veiled woman pulls out something. "What did you get?" she asks, grinning widely at her. "And, yeah. It's goop. It will be cold," she remarks softly. She's distracted for a moment by the jingling of bells, and she gives the breeze a curious look. A light, sly smile gracefully forms on her lips at some thought or another, but it slips away when the red tint starts to take shape and begin to cast the room in that ominous hue she's all too familiar with. Deep within she shudders, remembering the portents from the last Eclipse of Mirrors.

Mr Farley, an overtly decorous assistant arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads before departing.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies straightens at the cold boulder's words, a prideful--or, perhaps, defiant--cant to her head as she considers him. After a few seconds of silence, she nods, she tells him with certainty, "I will. Even if you won't dance with me, though I might argue that a bit of dancing--" She glances toward the ballroom floor, cast in its red light, and remembers a previous masquerade beneath that same crimson eclipse and opts to abandon that train of thought. One might almost maybe just barely catch the faintest grimace beneath her veil before she refocuses on her boulder-masked companion and wonders instead, "What folly /will you/ allow yourself this evening, my unmoved and unmoving friend?"

There's no hesitation when shadowed feather makes her pitch. The Shining One gives a nod and swivels on her feet to head toward the Shadowy Corner. "No better time than the present, that's for certain. I feel so selfish keeping you away from everyone else but you know me, when have I ever felt guilt? Or at least if I did, I hope it was swatted out of me." She says as she settles down, her eyes flickering around the room curiously.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask turns towards the mirror as the light starts to change, but he's come to brave the ooze pool, and will do that before he braves the mirror. Although watching the reactions of some of the people sticking their hands in the ooze may have weakened his resolve just a bit.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads watches as the colors shift. She gets a glass of whiskey herself, her eyes glimpsing on the mirrors once more.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage continues to feel through the muck until, "A-ha!" it says, and brings it's hand out. Slowly, the ooze slips off the pale hand until it reveals a gleaming oval gem that looks like blood solidified. Looking at the bloodstone in the light and shadow, it says "Delightful surprise, look at how it sparkles. You can almost feel it thump with a heartbeat." Up the elf gets to their feet, cane taken once more in hand as it says to the reindeer, "I hope you're rewarded for your bravery. Perhaps when you're ready, we can make our way to the visage of the Thirteenth to give thanks and then bravely welcome our reflections in the mirror as they partake in tonight's festivities too."

Someone wearing The Shining One has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing The Shining One has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden remains seated at the Misconduct Couch, engaging in easy conversation with the Raccoon. He is now bereft of his glass of wine, likely consumed and dispensed with. He raises an arm to indicate outward, as he looks to the dance floor. Whether that is an earnest gesture or pretense to cast his gaze in that direction for some reason is unclear.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a hazy veil looks to the windows, her new prize in hand, and smiles, wine still in her hand. Leaning a bit against the one with the sculpted, scintillating mask, she admires the moon - reaching to some passing one to grab a new glass of wine, still smiling. "It could have been warm. Who on earth decided all oozing good had to be /chilled/."

Someone wearing a cross owl mask glances up towards the moon as it turns red like his eyes. The cast of his mask prevents him from appearing pleased, but he drinks before lowering his gaze back to watching the dancers.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus has joined the Shadowy Corner.

"I suppose I can let you go then." The wind laughs along in their next spin, noting the change of the light in the room

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus is unable to see the tint of the moon. All is cast in shadows for the tall dancer in the blind mask. The Peacock leads her to the floor and they begin to dance to the music. Winding and swaying with the music.

Someone wearing burlap sack refills his glass of wine - or rather, a servant does it for him - and gazes into a mirror. But once the eerie red tint begins to fill the ballroom, his head tilting to the side, a smile growing on what of his lips can be seen beneath the sack.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones is drawn from her nervous thoughts when the hazy veiled woman replies. "That I do not know," she remarks all too seriously. "Are you going to be looking in the mirrors this year? I'm almost afraid to after last year, with blood and crows and... Him."

Someone wearing Impala Mask has done what she can to strategically place herself in such a way as if she's trying to actively avoidn mirrors. Not their view so much as to avoid casting a reflection. Her hand lifts and gently, reassuringly pats her companion's shoulder, someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask, murmuring something softly to him.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus joins the shadowy corner even as the woman dressed in all those razor sharp feathers leaves.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals draws himself up sternly. Then he tilts his heavy head up toward the red light through the windows. "Is it not folly enough," he asks the veiled woman of butterflies and sunshine, "merely to stand here, in view of mirrors and the unblinking red eye of the sky. Certainly, we could dance. The slow beat of a waltz, perhaps. With implacable steps, our shadows shifting in clotting blood. Does that in truth sound delightful to you?"

"And you did tell the raccooon you would dance with her," The Butterfly agrees, breathing heavily with a delighted tone to her voice as she's whirled around. "Shall we trade, then? A butterfly for a raccoon?" She looks over at the Snake and Raccoon thoughtfully, noting the snake's raised hand.

Waiting as the gold and sapphire mask makes their attempt at the ooze, the Reflection keeps head canted gently to one side, encouragingly. When he falters, the gloves are tucked into jacket's pocket and the Reflection steps forward, leaning down and sinking one hand into the pool. Fishing around with that impassive reflection turned towards the other mask, coming up after prolonged moments with... a shimmering gem in the scintillating colors fo dawn. Showing the gem to the gold and sapphire mask, the gem is tucked away somewhere and the figure steps back, motioning encouragingly once more.

Someone wearing an Ebony Goat mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing Dusk Sun continues to casually move his hand through the liquid in the pool, a wry smile curving his lips. But it is not too much longer before he pulls his hand up out of it, with what looks like a chunk of rock, or something along those lines. Curiously, he shakes some of the dark liquid from it that still clings, and it can more easily be seen for what it is, a small chunk of glinting star iron. "I guess it was my lucky night," he remarks.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

is still near the pond with her just her right toe in the murky water. She looks over to the elf as they pulls out the bloodstone, the girl drawing a bit closer as if trying to get a better look, her brown eyes wide like a fawn's. "I wonder if it can feel your heartbeat too." She says of the stone. The girl then crouches down near the water with the easy grace of one who is used to gardening, getting close to the land and the earth. She is not used to get close to murky shadowy blood moon pools though. She reaches in the water, searching around, trying to find something, her slender arms deep in the darkness. "I want to, but he did kill my flower once. I think he still has it or maybe not. I am not sure if one such as him would remember the corpse of a flower or maybe he would." She says with just a bit of sorrow for that fallen bloom.

The turtle looks at the place while the color shifts, and nods a bit. Watching, waiting, mostly keeping up with things, though keeping to himself while relaxing.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake arrives at the darkened pool to take her turn. There's careful preparation that goes into the act of bending downward and reaching in, if only because bending down too quickly or too far will probably make the big cobra hood fall off of her shoulders or get turned around on her neck or some other ignominious fate. That long moment of careful half-kneeling and bracing herself at pool's edge with one hand seems to pay off, though, as when the short-of-stature cobra reaches down into the dark water, it's with a swift and decisive snatching motion -- and a duskstone is in her clutches when her hand emerges. "Sssssssssss~," she hisses, in triumph.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells brings the butterfly back to the misconduct couches, a grin for the snake of the garden, then looking to the raccoon. "Would the small rascal care to dance now?"

The woman in the hazy veil shrugs, "Dearest, why on earth would I? I wouldn't even be able to see myself, with this veil on." She breezily responds, having another sip of wine. "Tonight is a night to look to the moon. Why bother with myself?" Another sip of wine, as she glances about -- shall we sit somewhere, cousin? Or have you found someone to whisk you off into a dance?"

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies's free hand tips toward another voice in the shadows as if to say, 'see?' though who can say for certain what point she might've been making. "Do stories not change us?" she asks brightly of her ice-bound friend, a quieter thread drawn into clearer conversation. Of the invitation, she tells him earnestly, a warm in her tone in contrast to his unmoving coolness, "It /does/. It sounds like delightful compromise." Tilting toward him a touch, she admits more quietly, "I'm not certain I could handle anything more freeform tonight," conceding some minor weakness. When the figure in vines and flowers draws into their dark corner of the ballroom, she dips her head in greeting, butterflies all a-flutter.

has a smile to the snake as she hisses in triumph. "Ooo..." She says in her voice that is more like an owl than a fawn. She keeps searching and might be getting a bit messy at this point, maybe, does inky mirror water stain?

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask takes a deep breath, closes his eyes (as though closing his eyes is going to make sticking his hand in the ooze any better), and plunges in the arm with the rolled up sleeve in a swift motion, like someone jumping in cold water all at once to just get it over with. He fishes around for a moment, and then opens his eyes as he draws his hand up, relaxing into a relieved smile, because that wasn't so bad! He opens his hand and chuckles when he finds a bone in his palm. He's about to say something more when an eel springs out of the ooze and goes straight for his hand. Probably the bone, actually, but the bone is in his hand, and the point is that there's a moment of extremely un-manly flailing and maybe a soft cry of alarm before the man in the gold and sapphire mask, looking substantially less suave and cool than he did a couple of minutes ago, is left with a bloodstone in his hand. He gives the Reflection a shocked look. "That was... pretty much as bad as I thought it would be."

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has joined the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage says to the reindeer, clicking it's tongue. "Tsk. If you wept for a flower taken by Him, perhaps your tears could be like rain for the blossoms of tomorrow's hope letting them bloom." As the colours of the room shift to red, the elf looks about. "He accepted your gift of the flower, what a beautiful thing. While a flower's blossom is only temporarily, He let you have that memory which will last forever in you. Yes, I think tonight would be a very good night to bravely face your fears and draw out strength from the festive reflection."

Someone wearing Impala Mask sits up and peers around spotting the person in a hazy veil. There's an approving nod and a careful study of the veiled figure before her attention turns back to her companions settled at the Scandal couches.

"You do not always see yourself in the mirror," says someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones. "Sometimes, you see other things. Or, at least /I/ did. Even if I logically know it cannot be trusted." Or can it? She seems uncertain and worries her lower lip with her teeth for the moment. "I may just do so. That uncanny curiosity of our family will compel me to it, I think."

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon looks to the breeze " I would lov dance"

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has joined the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake, having claimed her prize from the dark pool, then does the extremely snakelike thing of looking for a hand towel or some other piece of linen with which she can wipe down her arm. Then, duskstone in somewhat moist hand, it's off to the Scandal Couch -- or, as it may now be known, the Ssssssscandal Couch.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning checks luck and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing a mask of public mourning is successful.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has joined the Inviting Couches.

An owl enters, and who? Who? could it be. But he seems to be looking this way and that, searching for someone in the sea of faces. Seeing a vision in red, he makes his way towards the Decadent Couch. "Mind if I join you?"

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning checks luck and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing a mask of public mourning fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom marginally fails.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus dances with the Peacock without a care. As the moon paints the world red her costume becomes shadowed and the many layers grow in dimension.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning laughs and the sound is light, offkey. "Oh you know, the bloodier the better. I've got a reputation to maintain. Puns? I've always been a sucker for a good pun. Maybe something about never quite finding solid footing?" There's a pause and she winces. "I like them but I've never been any good at them." She gestures between the Shining One and the Mirror. "I wonder if you two know one another? I believe you do."

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning looks up from the decadent couch to the feathered owl. "Of course. We birds of a feather must flock together, no?"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask works at cleaning off her prize with a bit of cloth, still unsure what it is. She isn't too worried for it, as it is just for fun. Her dark gaze shifts about to the others around, overhearing the talk of mirrors and such. Slowly, she turns her gaze to a nearby mirror, walking closer, the ooze still dripping from her prize and her arm.

The game is on at the Immorality Couch; dice are being rolled, and those at the couch have taken on an air of seriousness. Or maybe that's the bloodmoon. Who knows.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

The woman in the hazy mask and veil sighs, lips forming a pout, "Dearest, your curiosity confounds me. I suppose if you do, I shall stand at a discreet distance at your side, ready to faint if anything dramatic happens." She promises the scintillating masked one. "Or shall I look for you? You do seem entirely too prone to dramatic circumstances."

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask dries off his hand and, reclaiming his coat and gloves from the Reflection, who may or may not be laughing at his moment of (hilarious) distress, starts putting them back on again, while casting his gaze towards the mirrors from where he stands near the ooze pool. He says something quietly, motioning to the mirrors as he does so.

"Then let us dance," says the man of the icy boulder to the woman veiled in butterflies and sunshine. He holds out his hand and begins to move from the shadowy corner toward the dance floor. "I will allow for this much story, this much change, under the unblinking red eye." He breaks character just enough to say, low, "I will try not to step on your toes."

Someone wearing Dusk Sun finds a bit of cloth to use to clean his arm and his prize off, then tucks it away in his belt pouch for the time being. He then wanders away from the pool for now, in search of another drink. Along the way, he glances into an uncovered mirror that he passes.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones gives the woman in a hazy veil an amused look. "Dramatic circumstances? It's not my fault these things find me!" she calls out, snorting a bit. "Alright, stand behind me then. Maybe you'll catch me if /I/ faint." Not that she has, but she totally could!

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon can't help but glance to the mirrord but she isn't about toabandon the breeze an their promised dance

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies has joined the Ballroom Floor.

has her hands in the water and is still searching. It seems to be taking her a while for some reason. Maybe she fails to find anything. Maybe she gets a hold of a slippery stone and abandons it before fully pulling the item out. She looks up to the apparent elf with a stilled moment as if she suddenly grasping something. Her eyes smiles, but her lips are concealed by the silken fawn mask. "I will never forget that flower, ever, ever..." She says and trails off with a soft sound of anticipation. "Oo.." She says and pulls out her hand, revealing a blood stone cupped in wet palm of her small hand. She rises to her feet, one sock on and one sock off, laying near the pool, forgotton, unlike her flower. "Maybe I can feel it too." She says, closes her eyes, trying to feel warmth and life, a heart in the stone.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells bows to Butterfly as they step upon the dance floor, a hushed word between them.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask takes a steadying breath, and then walks to the nearest mirror and peers into it with the uncertainty of someone who doesn't know what he's supposed to be seeing, and isn't completely on board with the fact that he'd like to see anything except himself. He's briefly distracted by the fact that his hair is doing things that hair shouldn't do, at least not the hair of someone dressed as nicely as he is, and forgets his nervousness in an attempt to smooth it.

Someone wearing burlap sack stands up slowly from the couch, beginning a circuit around the ballroom. Every step a heavy one, dark eyeholes within the sack stare into each mirror as he passes them. The shining treasure retrieved from the ominous pool being rubbed between his palms, he comes to a stop before a large mirror and gazes into it, the silvered surface tinted a lurid red from the blood moon.

Someone wearing burlap sack has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies's whole bearing rises and falls as she takes her cold companion's hand and follows after, like a breath drawn in, held for just a second then spent. Her gossamer skirts all trimmed in faint touches of blue and yellow flutter with her steps, and she promises, "My toes will not be where your feet fall should I follow the proper path." Is that not the purpose of their waltz, after all, a slight straying from one predetermined course toward another? Once on the floor, she falls into proper position for their decided dance, one hand held by her boulder-masked companion, the other upon his shoulder, the distance between them only so slim due to the fullness of her belly, as round as the moon overhead. "Where you lead, I shall follow." And hasn't she already?

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus whispers quietly to the Pecock as they sweep across the ballroom floor. The rootlike spread of the bottom of her dress lifting and flaring with the motion showing off her bone-decorated boots.

After leaning to whisper something to her companion in the scintillating mask, the hazy-masked one smirks, taking a pointed sip of her wine, "Very well. If you faint, I shall do my utmost best to scream dramatically for someone to come pick you up, dearest cousin." She promises, and sounds entirely sincere. What a pal.

It's not just the lighting that changes as the blood moon's dominance is felt in the hall but it appears as if the shadows take on a life of their own. Some of them with irregular actions and others seem to cast forboding shapes more than anything indicative of the room itself. Chains in the hands of the shadows. Yet it fades whenever anyone gazes too long, so no big deal right?

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals checks dexterity and performance at normal. Critical Success! Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals is spectacularly successful.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checks composure at normal. Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask marginally fails.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells checks dexterity and performance at normal. Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells marginally fails.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask checks luck and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing a Siren's Mask marginally fails.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells checks charm and performance at normal. Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells marginally fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask walks along the edge of the room, glancing sideways at mirrors as he passes, but doesn't stop before one. After a time he steps into the shadowy alcove.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Her snake having convinced her to take another turn upon the dance floor, the Butterfly nods and holds her hand out to let him lead the way. As she walks, her eyes flick around the room, causing her to gasp. "Did you see...?" Her steps have stopped. "No. Couldn't be." She shakes her head and continues with her snake.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus checks dexterity and performance at normal. Botch! Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus fails completely.

Someone wearing Impala Mask's head turns, noting the shadows from the corner of her eyes. Those green eyes roll a bit and she drains her wine and her gaze seeks for another to replace it.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus is distracted bysomething and trips -right- into the Pecock.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells stands from their bow and hushed word, taking the raccoon into a close embrace for a dance and with a slip of step backwards finds their own cloth to step upon as their eyes watch a shadow nearly become something else. A shake of his head as he smiles to the raccoon, then trying to shrug it off "What was tha--"

Someone wearing proud gladiolus leaves the shadowy corner and moves out into the brighter areas of the ballroom. He pauses and turns to face one of the mirrored walls and spends several long moments simply gazing into the reflection of himself and the room beyond.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus has left the Shadowy Corner.

The Snake of the Twilight Garden lifts himself from the couch, taking the hand of the Butterfly to lead her towards the dance floor. "It is merely the dissstractionssss of the eve..." he attempts to reassure her as the pair make their way into the sea of dancers upon the floor.

Someone wearing a mirrored, night-black mask says, "This is just gro--- ew!" They exclaim. There is struggling and grunting until finally their hand withdraws from the oozy pool with a piece of stygian! All complaints cease instantly."

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask is staring at the hand he used to fetch the prize -- clean and dry, despite his best efforts -- as if he's trying to work his way through a puzzle, but there's an air to his stance of growing unease. (For a change.) His glance keeps darting up and around the room, and he's on his second glass of wine and powering through it with abandon as he notices others taking up posititions near the mirrors. He hesitates for quite some time, but when the shadows seem to stir his mind is very well made up for him, and he joins a cluster of partygoers in one of the corners...safety in numbers, see. That this also leaves him exposed to his own reflection in one of the mirrors elicits a grunt of surprise and a tightening along the muscles in his shoulders and back...but he does not budge, staring into the mirror as if daring something to happen.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has left the The Misconduct Couch.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask has joined the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features straightens abruptly from the languid posture they've assumed on the back of the Impropriety couch, one hand on Moonlight's shoulder. Melting Mirror's hands rise, momentarily, clenching into black-gloved fists, before their fingers forcibly uncurl, one by one. "Chains," the impassive mask utters. "The blood moon - oh, not tonight, nothing's ready-" That expressionless face turns back and forth, looking on high alert around the ballroom, before a hand closes on Moonlight's shoulder again, and Melting Mirror bends to say something to the Impropriety couch's inhabitants.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage gives a small clap at the reindeer's luck on finding a bloodstone, although the pewter crow's eyes glisten with ravenous desire. The elf beckons with long pale fingers for her to join as it gestures towards the mirrors as the blood moon can be felt here. "A mirror always can bring fright, it shows a reflection of our inner demons and don't we fight demons, real or imagined?" The dark elf stands at one mirror and bravely looks at the reflection it sees. In one pale hand, it offers with palm up a bloodstone. A bargain!"

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask fortifed by drink, finally braves the pool as others have. He sticks his hand into the ooze, and hesitates, just for a moment before finally putting his hand in. When he touches something, he pauses and pulls out... what looks like a half-eaten eel. Fairly disgusting. But there is something shiny in its side, so he pulls that out, and discards the flesh. He wipes his hand on his cloak as much as he can manage to get the ooze off.

The Man with the Peacock mask catches the Saturnidae mask's elbows and rights her from her tumble. The pair move sideways off from the dancefloor to go find somewhere not so busy to stand for the moment. Of course, its near mirrors. Everything has mirrors. Everywhere is mirrors. So many mirrors.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing A Peacock Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing A Peacock Mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

The Reflection takes its leave from the Decadent Couch to move towards the mirrors. In passing, it pauses to offer something to the gold and sapphire masked man before stepping up to a mirror itself and peering into the depths.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask looks into the mirror, a shift of the shadows near her draws her attention away. Her brows furrow for but a moment as if thinking she saw something that isn't there right now. Finishing cleaning her hand, she makes her way back to the alcove, snatching another glass of wine on the way.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus limps a little and frowns at her ankle. She pats the Pecock and gestures back the direction they came from though it's vague. "I should be fine, just let me find my seat and I'll sit and drink some wine. My fun will have to be stationary for the rest of the night." Her smile is wide but pained.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals clasps the hand of the veiled woman of sunshine and butterflies with one hand. The other he places on her waist. He begins the dance, and what a structured dance it is. Forward. Side. Back. Side. Forward. The box step does not require much grace, but he performs it, leads it with absolute precision. The mask does not allow the direction of his gaze to be spied, but he's clearly marking the shadows as he remarks. "Do the shadows ever claim one of the dancers, in their folly, I wonder?"

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing proud gladiolus has apparantly seen enough since he turns away from his reflection and heads towards one of the doors.

has her fingers wrapped, pressing the stone tightly to her warm palm as she tries to feel the heat of life. When she lifts her heavy lashes the room seems to darken with subtle shadows and the fawn seems to freeze with the sudden still of a wild wandering animal. A sound startled sound escapes her lips. "Just a shadow.." She says more to herself than to anyone else. She draws back slender shoulders and wipes a wet hand over her once white slip, smiles to the elf, a real smile. "I hope to." She says and says, following to the mirror with the grace of a common girl who works hard, but does't dance. She looks from the elf to their reflecton and back to the elf. She tries to see if she can see what he might see.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads's eyes follows the Horned Skull Wooden Mask as he FINALLY goes to make his way to the ooze. "That took a minute," her nose wrinkling at the eel. She starts to get up, going to make her way around the room, even if she IS a bit uncomfortable.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom glances towards the mirrors, but what does one have to fear when you ARE the mirror? Of course, the people at his seat might be drinking a fair amount more than they were BEFORE he sat down. It could be that he's picking his next seat too. Any of them are up for grabs.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask plunges their hand into the depths of the pool, and pauses for a moment, arm jerking and looking to any casual observer as though they are slowly being dragged into the pool, despite digging in their heels and violently yanking. Then, all at once, they pop free with a disgusting squelch, a dripping stone in their hand. "H-ha. Well. That was... That was different."

Someone wearing burlap sack continues to stare quietly into the mirror, gazing at his reflection with a crimson tint. The appearance of chain holding shadows doesn't move him. Instead, he just shifts his weight and reaches out to nearly touch the mirror - a fingertip almost there - before letting his hand drop once more. Afterwards, a glance towards the alcove and he's slipping into it.

"Oh, it's so crowded, now," The Butterfly says to the Snake, her voice lowered in disappointment. "Is there a quieter spot we might sway together?" She looks around, seeing no one near the throne. "We shouldn't. But if not tonight? Bad decisions, the white lady said."

Someone wearing burlap sack has joined the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones grimaces in hazy veil's direction. "Sometimes I forget you're not born into the family," she remarks with a touch of amusement. "It's a trait, alas. But..." she shrugs. "Maybe something I need to do to just be sure too. Perhaps."

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has joined the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask rises from her seat at the Immorality Couches and tips back the rest of her wine. She trades the empty glass for a full one on her way to the pit of ooze. A thoughtful look at the gunk, eyes narrowed on the lookout for eels, and then she's pulling her ring off one hand and swapping it to the other, so both ring and pearl cuff share the same arm. That leaves her other arm free to slide into the slime in search of treasure.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden has joined the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing Impala Mask snatches a drink from a passing tray. A reassuring hand occasionally finds the shoulder of someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask, "Do you need a top off?" She leans in to peer at something shown at the couch, "Oooh, what did you get from the pool?"

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has a brief exchange with the Reflection that stops him from obsessing over his hair, at least, and convinces him to be a little more serious about looking into the mirror, although still with the look of someone who doesn't know what he's looking for.

Eira, 2 Bone Wardens arrive, following Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains.

Eira have been dismissed.

Someone wearing an elegantly asymmetrical silk mask sparkling under countless mirrorsilver beads has left the The Scandal Couch.

A red glow fills the room, casting the color of everything within in its light. The mirrors themselves glow too, but more than that, they're move reflective than ever. It's not always an accurate picture that those who peer within see reflected back. There's always something off. Perhaps an additional person, maybe some of the people appear surreal or maybe there's nobody at all. For those who peer into the mirror for longer, they may see their worst nightmares in vivid images, as though they're happening before their eyes.

((OOC: So there will be no personalized emits this year but feel free to imagine things up for your chars regarding what they see!))

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom checks luck and empathy at normal. Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails.

"Dearest, you say the sweetest things. But someone must be sensible." The hazy-masked woman's head turns up towards the window again, following the blood moon. "Well, dearling, if there was ever a time- we've mirrors enough." The lips pull into a smile, "Or we can go sit down somewhere and spare ourselves all this standing."

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay has left the The Immorality Couch.

Maybe it's the blood moon and the general spookiness, the elf's blood red eyes from underneath the bored face stare at the reflection for a very long time as one hand holds the bloodstone like an offering to it. "As much as some desire to rid the world of you, if you were to be gone then we'd lose the angels, martyrs and gods which come at our great moment of need. Give us strength to be honest with ourselves, the wisdom to understand why we fear, and the courage to do something about it."

It's as the room takes on the reddish glow that the Shining One seems to take up a glow of their own. A whitish aura seems to be cast around her, flickering outward in tendrils as she listens to those on the couch.

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

After a few moments, the Reflection shakes its head and steps back from the mirror, lifting a shrug towards the gold and sapphire masked man. Instead, they turn back towards the room, glancing around before determining to head towards the couch that has Tehom seated at it. Dice are always a fun time, right?

Someone wearing Impala Mask has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has joined the The Immorality Couch.

It's while the man in the gold and sapphire mask is looking at the Reflection, with his face reflected perfectly in that mask that his expression changes. Even the half mask can't cover the sudden pallor, a bit of an off-color. "..... Oh," he says, looking away.

"I think I'll skip looking this year," someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones says after a few moments, giving the sides of the mirrors another look. She looks to the hazy veiled woman. "Where do you want to sit? I'd planned on being a wall flower tonight, but might as well take a seat."

Someone wearing Impala Mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

As the room glows red, the Butterfly plops herself into the Grand Duchess's throne. She is pointedly avoiding looking at the mirrors, instead focused on the Snake as he stands before her. She says something quietly to him, pulling him closer.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies follows with more patience than grace, though the flittering of the lightweight layers of her dress go a long way toward lending her an air of etherealness. Along the edges, at least. She keeps pace, following her crystal-maked companion's lead as if she's done so dozens of times before, this path wholly familiar. Her gaze flits about as they step, turning this way and that to watch others, to perhaps catch hints of red-tinted reflections, but the question from her stoic friend earns both a quiet laugh and her fuller attention. "Yes." She sounds so sure. "Did you see when it claimed every last foot upon the floor, bid us all to dance and dance and dance? I wouldn't be surprised if /someone/ was lost that night..."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains steps into ballroom, hours late to the party. They cut an austere figure, the mask turning this way and that to check out the room. Where to start, seems to be the question.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning rises from couch with the help of the owl, but her eyes linger on the Shining One for a long moment, instead of moving off, leaning to whisper something to the Shining-masked visage who is now slightly glowing.

Seeing as Tehom departs just as they arrive, the Reflection lifts a hand to wave at the departing figure before turning towards the others there.

Someone wearing A Peacock Mask has left the Decadent Couch.

The Snake, ever drawn to ambition, remains close to the butterfly as she takes up casual repose upon the throne of the Grand Duchess. He leans in as she speaks, following her closely, perhaps entranced himself as she guides him to the throne.

The Impropriety Couch has been a place for sudden and hushed conversation as the sanguine glow bathes the room in its light. As the Tehom-masked figure arrives, the Melting Mirror rises, still hand-in-hand with Moonlight, and bows in a single, effortless movement to the new arrival.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask looks over at the asymmetrical mask, and then back at the mirrors. "I suppose--" He pauses, and gets up, facing whatever it is he might see in there this time. It takes him a moment, as he's steeled up, but he's at least not too cowardly to check his fears one more time, in spite of earlier protests.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake rises from the Scandal Couch, but only walks a few paces away from it. She doesn't seem intent on putting her short cobra self in front of a mirror, but rather she's found a section of wall in which the light casts a clear shadow of her. She looks at it for a long moment, whole-head-covering snake hood masking any expression or emotion. And then, though she isn't on the dance floor and she doesn't have a partner, she attempts a few dance steps. Stately, formal ones, like the cobra was trained to dance at... well, grand galas like this one. She doesn't make a show of it, and her dance is fleeting, perhaps only lasting long enough for an onlooker to figure out that she's not exactly partnerless -- the Soupcon of Snake is quite possibly trying to see if her shadow will dance with her.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus listens to the sounds of the music and the dancers as she is left to her own devices though her head tilts slightly. The gleam is enough to be noticed through the deep shadows she can just see moving about her. As the Peacock drifts off she seeks out a glass of wine.

"I have no idea." The woman in the hazy veil says with a laugh, brushing the side of the veil back as if it was hair, "So long as we can sit, and there is someone amusing - and if not amusing, at least somewhere I could nap away the time. Or we can go and watch the moon once we've grabbed another glass of wine. The moon color is fascinating these nights."

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask's lips quirk up at the corners as she reaches toward the ooze. She... did she even dip her hand in for a moment? Her fingers curl around something, some prize, and she murmurs, "Thank you. I appreciate the appreciation."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals lowers his head soberly to his sunshine and butterflies companion. "I remember the dance," he says. His steps continue heavy as if rooted and unrooted with every movement. His head is very steady. There is, perhaps, a hint of fear in his steadiness. (Perhaps, after all his talk of facing opposition, even cowardice.) "If there was no risk of being taken, dragged away into the dark, then it would not be a folly. I suppose it does not surprise me that you still wish to explore." He nods toward the mirrors without, again, quite facing them.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask offers his arm to the shadowy feathery warning, murmuring something to her and then leads her on over towards the ooze, as it seems the vision in red desires.

"Oh second thought, I'm going to wander home," someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones says to the hazily veiled woman. "You can stay if you want, or we can go back together."

stands near the mirror herself, looking into such and at the elf vivage's blood red eyes. She holds her own stone, but less like an offering and more like she is still trying to feel a little heat. She listens to his words and then finally shifts her gaze to herself. "I never been the most graceful with words, but I do hope that if you have a flower skeleton flower there in the depths that you will look after such, maybe dried dusty stems can still feel? Maybe it is only dust" She doesn't seem sure. "And I know that I can be awful, sharp like thorns and squeezing like the snakey vines, bleeding and drawing blood and that they can, but still..consider us. We still fight, me and the blooms."

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has joined the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water checks luck at normal. Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water is successful.

"Mmmm." Says the woman with the hazy veil. "I think, perhaps, I shall enjoy the maze tonight, and watch the moon." It's hard to tell where her gaze goes, considering the veil, but the way she tilts her head implies a last look around the room, before she heads out.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom nods to the black wolf. "That sounds like a good plan to follow. Wonder if there is anything left in that ooze pool. Maybe someone else got all the eels and icky things out already."

Still glowing faintly as the room seems to be cast in a red light, the Shining One follows the shadowed feather and feathered owl toward the goo. "After you." She says with a merry smile, flicking her platinum hair back, causing the white tendrils around her to ripple.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom has left the The Immorality Couch.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water checks luck at hard. Botch! Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water fails completely.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask's challenge is apparently met; he visibly jumps, sloshing a bit of wine out of his glass, and reaches out to touch the reflected visage of the dragon skull with shaking fingers. Fingertips rest on the mirror for a long moment, and then the man exhales sharply, shaking his head in silent refusal. He takes one deliberate step back and away from the mirror, and then turns on his heel to put his back to it, head held high. He watches the other partygoers in silence that could be characterized as brooding, until his gaze lands on the cobra-headed woman dancing with her own shadow. A beat, and then he's striding toward her; he offers her dark shape on the wall a bow. "My apologies, but might I cut in?"

Someone wearing a sculpted mask streaked with scintillating gemstones also takes one last look around the room, and then the woman who meant to be a wallflower turns to make her exit, departing for the evening.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning is very carefully accompanied by the feathery owl and the Shining One, who is literally shining now. It bathes her rubicund in a glow as they head towards the ooze. "Do you think there's a chance I'll get sucked in?" the sharp one asks as make their way.

Someone wearing Impala Mask joins someone in a twisted fox-goat mask on the Ballroom floor, placing one hand on his shoulder and allowing them to take the lead, doing her best to not be distracted by the various unsettling sights. Both those who are mundane and those which are not.

The pair of mourners - the one making a show of it, the one making a show of not - rise from the Immorality Couch and - after a murmur - step over toward the mirrors. "So few words," he in the more subdued mask tells the woman, her hand threaded through his arm. "And it seems to have said so much." The sound in that voice: sympathetic. The move to the mirrors and he gestures. "I've never seen any strangeness in these. Not really."

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies does not face the mirrors either, not just yet, her attention too steadily held by her heavy-footed partner in his mask of stygian and crystals. With a mostly hidden smile, she tells him, "I do," of that exploration, but it comes with quieter commentary as well, with an unsteady lean in toward his rigidity that sees her quickly shuffling to correct her steps before he's a chance to step on any toes. Is she barefoot? She might be barefoot beneath all that fluttery silk.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage listens to the reindeer and it gives a nod, and so does the elf's reflection maybe a little bit later. "Flowers weren't meant to bloom forever except in our minds, it's why life is that precious and perhaps the Queen desires us to live it fully so we too bloom forever in the minds of those that remember us." There's a shrug of a shoulder as if it isn't taking it's words too seriously. It does say something quietly over to the reindeer though.

Someone wearing A freely dancing breeze with soft bells has left the Ballroom Floor.

After some time resting in the shadowy alcove someone wearing a cross owl mask excuses from those whom he is speaking with there to approach the pool with purpose. He kneels beside it, leaning over to look before reaching in without hesitation. He seems to fish about for quite a while as if trying to tickle a fish out but it is eluding him. In the end he pulls a small dark duskstone from the pool. He dries off his hand, thanks the attendants, and returns whence he came, holding the dark stone as if it is precious.

Someone wearing Fuzzy brown raccoon has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a mirrored, night-black mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl approaches one of the mirrors slowly and doesn't not stop until their mirrored mask almost touches the opposing mirrored surface. The figure stands incredibly still as their visage is reflected back and forth infinitely. After some time they suddenly turn their head away sharply followed by a flourish of their cloak before they begin to walk about the room again.

For a time, the man in the fox-goat mask twirls the impala around the dance floor. And then, after a quiet exchange, the fox-goat escorts her to the edge of the floor, kissing the back of her hand, and slips off into the crowd.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains makes there way to the black pool, apparently deciding to risk her fate with the ooze. Their head tilts a little as they near, their hand plunging down into the liquid and pulling back with.. something. They study it a moment, before stepping away to allow room for another.

Someone wearing a twisted fox-goat mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning finds the ooze and thrusts her hand in. There's no pause, no moment of indecision. She is full of life and everything she does reflects that moment, the seizing of every moment. And for a moment, the dangerous feather starts to lean off balance, towards the ooze as if being tugged.

Someone wearing A gorgeous perforated mask of silk, burnished silver and iridescite in the form of a Saturniidae moth with golden cat's-eye ocellus has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Impala Mask pouts as she's abandoned by her dance partner, "Well. Damnit."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals is certainly not unshod, his booted feet very much a threat, but as the woman veiled with sunshine and butterflies adjusts, so does he, careful not to do any real injury. His voice measures quieter, more private.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask half-turns toward the bristling red feathers and reaches out as if to steady the woman --- then pulls her hand back. Because sharp. Very, very sharp.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask takes a moment to berate a mirror. It seems like a somewhat personal conversation, but ends with - "And I had better not see you again next eclipse." Then he turns and, a little drunk but still upright, looks to see if anyone is in need of a dance before the night ends. It seems Impala is sad at the loss of a partner, so he offers a hand.

Someone wearing a Emerald blindfold has left the The Impropriety Couch.

looks into the mirror with her wide brown eyes even as a soft gasp escapes. The Northern doe stumbles back a step. Her gaze is drawn from herself, from herself in the mirror that is, whatever she sees. She tenses her slender shapely calves, rising to the balls of her feet as she listens to the elf visage. Eyes bright and her gaze brigtens, then softens. She murmurs something back softly.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features checks luck and performance at normal. Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features is successful.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning gives Siren's Mask an apologetic look even as the pool beneath her hand just freezes, holding her still for a moment. And then it eases and the sharp feathery warning lifts her hand out of the ooze, clutching in it a piece of exquisite epiphanite. The exultant triumph on her lips and in the depths of her eyes is unmistakeable. She turns to the leering shadow mask as they whisper, whisper something back.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask steps away from the alcove as well, making her way towards one of the mirrors. At first, she does not seem to affected by it. However after a moment, her brows furrow as she watches her reflection change. It is something subtle at first. Silently, she sips from her wine as if studying the mirror as one would study a tome. However, something happens and her the wine begins to lower as she stares, utterly unable to tear her gaze from the reflection.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features checks luck and performance at hard. Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features marginally fails.

A faint shudder runs through the woman wearing the mask of public mourning as she strolls with her more carefully composed companion. "Some answers don't need to be long to be impactful, I guess. Though the lengthy one seemed to have a similar effect." Her own tone is sympathetically knowing, laced with quiet understanding. She peers into the mirror for a moment before shrugging and giving her probably okay companion's arm a light tug. "Let's see what the pool yields to us then, hm?"

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Botch! Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails completely.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has left the The Scandal Couch.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has joined the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom moves over toward the pool of ooze and makes sure there is a towel nearby. She kneels so she can lean over the pool and her mouth tightens in concentration as she strains to hear something amid the noise of the crowd. Finally her lips part as the noise becomes a bit of a soft melody. Her hand slips into the pool as if seeking its source and she pulls out a gem, looking at it with a gentle smile. She then looks toward the Black Wolf to see what he has managed to attain.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask pauses at the shadowed feathery warning jams her hand into the ooze, and then goes and grabs her by the hips when she begins to be sucked into the pool. Just. He was very sure that she wouldn't go all the way in, but why that take that chance?

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake's brief attempt to dance with her shadow ends, mere moments after it began. After all, if shadows cease their mischief when watched too closely, then certainly they won't do something as bold as dance independently of their caster. The diminutive cobra spares a glance at one of the mirrors for a second, and then waves a hand, as if in disdainful dismissal of what is seen, before slinking toward the Impropriety Couch and settling down.

Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay yields to the redirection, and moves over to the pool to try his luck. Just there, just next to the shadowed feathery warning. And he kneels down, and reaches in. He's only shaken; why not stir?

Someone wearing Impala Mask peers about at all the masked faces. Her lips purse and she turns and exits the ballroom floor, scanning the room for her next perch.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask sits with his drink in hand, having drunk a bit from it and then forgotten to continue, and watches with a difficult to read expression (thanks in part to the mask) as other people look into the mirrors and have... reactions. He turns towards his companion, a little bit shaken at seeing his reflection looking back to him, but rallies with a smile.

Someone wearing Impala Mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a Siren's Mask eyes the sharp feathery warning, gaze flicking to the epiphanite. Then she looks back to the pool and --- well, there's a shift of expression there. But the mask covers most of it. She still has that full glass of wine, so she turns her back on the pool and takes some time sipping that. Walking through the throngs, glancing at herself in mirrors. She seems pleased by whatever she sees, even as makes her way toward the exit. Hopefully she gives that wineglass back before she exits the estate grounds, but then, they can probably afford to replace it.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask stares down into the pool, indeed, at his own reflection staring back up at him. His lips press into a tight, thin line, the only part of his expression that anyone can observe from beneath the snarling mask. After working himself up to it, he starts to roll up his right sleeve, and after waiting for Orchid to fish up what there is to find, carefully kneels down, reaches into its depths, then plucks out a gemstone which is allowed to roll into the center of his wet palm. He extends it out and murmurs something to the woman kneeling at his side.

Someone wearing burlap sack takes a few steps out of the alcove with a distracted look over at the upset Impala, but the dance floor is not his destination. Instead, a large mirror is where he stops. Shoulders squared and steeled with the remainder of his goblet of wine, the lurid reflective surface receives an unblinking gaze. For awhile, he remains utterly still, but gradually a kind of slump takes over his form.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask finishes his last drink and, muttering under his breath, stalks out of the ballroom with only a single glance back over his shoulder -- spared for his own reflection again.

Someone wearing a weathered dragonskull mask has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing White Feathered Owl Mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning stoops by the pool, staring only briefly into the bubbling liquid before plunging her hand into its depths. She attempts to show no hesitation, perhaps hoping a confident grasp will yield something pleasant.

The red glow doesn't fade away. It just doesn't. Even when it seems like it should. The dancing shadows return for a time, alternating between shadows holding hands in unity and friendship and joy. Then the hands turn into chains. Then it's back to friendship and love. And on it goes as the bloodmoon looms. Which seems to be constantly.

Someone wearing leering shadow mask nods in agreement at something the feathered-blade covered woman asks, cheerfully stating outloud, "Any at all." He crosses his arms over some inky leather he's wearing then leans in to murmur something.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains makes their way away from the pool, drifting by the Mirrors without stopping to look into them. Perhaps that's a thing for later? They wander without any real destination, just weaving through the room.

The Shining One's glow fades suddenly as she turns to study a figure in the room and gracefully makes her way over to them, a beatific smile on her lips.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask checks dexterity at normal. Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom tucks the gems away and nods to her companion. She rises to stand and admire his find from the pool and thank the hostess of the evening. Movement is noted out the tail of her eye and she turns to watch some of the others and glance again into the mirrors.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing Impala Mask decides perhaps the remaining perches aren't for her and strides for the exit with a gait which doesn't seem accustomed to wearing a dress.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a shadowy elven visage touches it's chest where a dark wet patch appears, the tip of the pale finger marred with a red stain. It says goodbye to the reindeer and gives a respectful bow to the honoured guest that's the Visage of Tehom before the elf makes it's way out the doors to the red glowing night outside. The pewter crow taps on the ballroom floor, Tap. Tap. Tap!

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask continues staring at the mirror as if transfixed to it. Her grip tightens around the glass she holds, her body trembling. It's a reaction of something between fear and rage. Perhaps both. The glass shatters, the wine spilling to the floor and blood flowing from the flesh of her hands. Finally, she tears her gaze away. "Fuck." She says in a shaking voice. "I.. I need another glass now.."

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask checks dexterity at hard. Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask is successful.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask rises from a couch. He still looks pale, but by his carriage, at least, he's recovered his composure. He extends a velveteen hand to the Reflection and leads her to the dance floor.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails.

"That's why I invite the chaos, that way...I'll always win," the stormy cloud supposes to the golden skull, with a wicked smile. A laugh escapes, warm with mirth. Vivid blue eyes behind the mask are both mischievous and good-natured. As she tilts her head to the side, she captures the reflection of the mirrors and eyes squint. Dainty shoulders tense under an inundation of a heavy garment. "A mask came be an opportunity to be something else--, but it can be a chance to be yourself. Unfiltered. Authentic. I think that's just as exciting as being someone else...," she trails off seeing something in one of the mirrors. Even though her features are masked, emotions play out in expressive eyes. Lips press together pensive as she considers even her own opinions, enjoying the contrast that conversation brings. There is a small, but wicked smile that forms when the matte skull talks about taking ignorance and spinning into something advantageous. The woman lifts her glass to her and says with a kindred warmth, "I couldn't agree more." Her gaze follows the motion to the man in the Tehom mask and she pauses in silence. There is something the woman says that gives her reason to pause. Vivid blues catch something out of the corner and a jaw clenches at it, as though she challenges what she sees. "It doesn't matter what you see. You chose who you are," the Storms' parting words, met with a sincere, "it was the greatest of pleasures meeting you both. Thank you for joining us," she raises her glass to them both. Her attention easily drifts back to the Stag she sits with, and she declares to him, "I believe there is trouble to be had."

Petal looks after the seeming elf as they leave and still she holds the blood stone grasped in her small right hand. She even gives them a little wave. The girl then heads over to the dance floor and with her one sock on and one sock off she starts dancing with her stone as a partner.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checks dexterity and performance at normal. Botch! Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask fails completely.

Taking the masked man's hand, The Reflection follows him to the dance floor for a spin or two. Hopefully it will help take his mind off whatever has him still a touch on the pale side.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies stills mid-dance, a hand coming to rest briefly upon her belly. When she continues her conversation with her chilly partner, her steps do not resume. Instead, her attention turns to those near the pool, all mourning and corsets, as she resumes her conversation with her crystalline companion.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals raises his voice briefly as the shadows change, as chains cross his vision. "Yes," he says. "Is it not so. Friendship, love, connections, company, they root us where we are. They can chain us -- where we are." He stops, though, then, as his veiled partner does. He stops entirely, his head tilted in clear and character-breaking concern. His voice lifts again, "Is there anyone warm present?"

The pair of twilight garden critters, Butterfly and Snake, have taken to dancing in front of the throne - the lady having relinquished the seat after a brief stint within it. Neither seems especially concerned about the redness or the shadows or other people, having gotten lost in their own company.

It's a good thing that mask covers his whole face, because that man that is probably okay? He's probably NOT entirely okay with however that pool feels. "Gah, this is - /terri-/ he starts, and then pauses. He withdraws his hand in time with the woman wearing the golden mask of mourning, looking at her, holding a stone aloft for her to see. Bloodstone.

Someone wearing Horned Skull Wooden Mask has left the The Scandal Couch.

Turning at the call of the crystalline masked man, the Reflection lifts its hand in response to the question. They are, indeed, warm.

goes sliding over the ballroom floor happily using the traction of one slippery white sea silk sock to guide her forward while she lifts her other leg up like she thinks she is a Northern ice princess performing over a frozen lake. She has the stone grapsed tight like it is so precious and her fawn brown eyes are bright with the joy of one who isn't paying attention to much but this moment and the moment goes crashing down....

As she falls with all the awkwardness of a just born colt, she cries out, her knees bangs to the floor, her stone goes spilling, rolling over the floor.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals turns his head toward the Reflection briefly, and very dubiously. "You look as cold as me."

Someone wearing pure bright aeterna molded into an expressionless mask and dipped in diamond dust moves throughout the ballroom, pausing here and there to speak with people as she passes. Clearly her dutues as host have kept her busy the entire evening and only now is she able to break away and enjoy a moment. She pauses when she reached the dice wielding visage of He Who Waits Behind the Mirror, she pauses beside Tehom as he speaks with others. "Have you found your favorite yet?"

Someone wearing a black wolf mask pockets his own stone and then gestures toward one of the couches occupied by some masked individuals. "Shall we?" The stench of the water still lingers, which begs him depart its inky depths for the rest of the evening. Should Orchid accept, they would stroll directly to the Inviting Couches, however, as there is only one seat to be claimed, prefers to stand within speaking range and greet them in his usual formality. "Good evening. I am sorry that we did not say hello sooner. I'd introduce my date but...well," he says flatly, though the corner of his mouth lift with unfettered amusement.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies nods agreeably with the softer spoken words from her beloved boulder and confirms soundly, "I could." It sounds an awful lot like, 'I won't.' When he calls for warmth among the crowd and finds his Reflection in another, she laughs and counters, "That can't be so," for that suggestion of coldness. "Does Lagoma find fire in /her/ Reflection?" Beneath her veil, her smile is bright and wide for the shiny-masked stranger.

Turning towards the crystalline masked, the Reflection cants its head curiously, then lifts a shrug towards him. He asked the question, the Reflection merely answered it as honestly as possible.

It's just as well that her face is concealed when the mournful persona slides her hand into the pool. "Ew, ugh. What /is/...?" Her voice carries an undercurrent of displeasure, perhaps even disgust, for the strange consistency of the pool itself, but then her fingers close around something solid. A suitable distraction. She pulls her hand free of the muck to display a matching gem to her probably okay companion. "A pleasant surprise, especially given all the things that I could imagine lurking in the depths."

Someone wearing burlap sack remains quiet for awhile yet, dead eyes staring out from the sack's holes. The resigned slump of his shoulders suddenly snaps and he stands straight, a fist brandished at the mirror with an inhuman roar of rage bellowed at the blood-stained, argent surface. Reaching for a sword that - thankfully - isn't at his side, a hand clasps on air. Reeling backwards, the sackman snaps out of it after crossing half of the ballroom floor - nearly stomping upon Reindeer's errant stone. He suddenly laughs, anxious and forced. "My apologies. How embarrassingly brutish!"

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask gives the Reflection a broad, warm smile and, finding the tempo of the music currently playing, begins dancing her around the floor with the flourish of someone who has been taught to dance well. It's nothing fancy, what he does, but he turns her with enough force when he does spin her that it keeps her on tempo.

"Mm. I suppose not," grants the boulder-masked to the sunshine and butterfly veiled. He turns back to the Reflection. "Come then, if you wish. We would have your company as we approach the mirrors."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom speaks in low tones to those at the the seats with him. The dice are paused as the Hostess comes to him. A glance to the side as he offers her up the dice as well. "Who is my favored?" He glances at each of the masks. And looks around for a moment. Then he simply asks. "Which of you wish to me my favored? If you desire it, cast out your luck and let us see who stands to win."

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning looks, for a Shining moment (pun intended) like she is deliriously pleased as she chats with leering mask and Shining Moment. It's a self-satisfied gratification.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features marginally fails.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies fails.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden checks luck at daunting. Critical Success! Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden is spectacularly successful.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a cross owl mask fails.

Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay fails.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver fails.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask fails.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water fails.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a mask of public mourning marginally fails.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a black wolf mask fails.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake fails.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull marginally fails.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals marginally fails.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom fails.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull fails.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask fails.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features says "Hope," to the figure masked as Tehom - just loud enough to be heard by those around the table. Then Melted Mirror turns toward the black wolf masked figure and Orchid as they arrive at the couch.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask marginally fails.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains is successful.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden checks luck at daunting. Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden fails.

Moving with their partner, the Reflection twirls and spins, delighted with the upbeat and energetic tempo. Untrained but with at least a natural athleticism that allows them to keep up with their partner.

still has not got off the floor as she eyes her blood red stone. She lifts her gaze to the man in the sack as he almost steps upon such. "Oh, oh...hold still..." She says and scrambles over to him while still on the floor. "Don't crush it, it might have a tiny tiny heart."

Someone wearing The Shining One can't help but say. "WHAT?" Aloud before quieting yet again to talk to her buddies.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom casts her luck in a roll of the dice with the others and laughs as it turns out just as expected. A nod of the head is given those who manage to not fail. She turns toward Black Wolf and nods. "Introductions are definitely not easy to manage when everyone goes masked." She takes a sip of her drink and as it lowers, there is a glint of mischief in her eyes and the upturned corners of her lips.

Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay rises from his knees, hearing the call from the person masked as Tehom. There's a look cast to his fellow-in-mourning, but then he rises, giving his sleeve a shake. He could have not mucked that up. Had he been unwilling to undo all the sleeve-buttons, that is. Oh well. He pockets the bloodstone, and then tugs his date over toward the mirrors. Not... until after he's given a lingering look to that sunshine and butterflies, though. How inviting a thought, in this dark moment.

"Ow!" declares the owl-masked fellow after he cuts himself on the red vision's dress, looking at it warily. "My. It is as it appears," he murmurs. "It is what I get for attemping to keep the ooze from getting you, I suppose."

Someone wearing burlap sack freezes in place as Reindeer points out that he well might crush her stone. "Oh. A tiny heart inside of it?" Attention turned downwards to where she's reaching for the red rock, he waits with one metal boot partially up in the air. "I think that was probably a good sign I ought to find some fresh air. After you retrieve your stone, of course."

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains wanders as if guided by some unseen force, brushing fingers against a mirror, though they don't glance in. They pause to roll Tehom's dice before drifting on-- not quite as favoured as the butterfly, it seems.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies considers to her companion as he relents, "Shall I collect mine?" but she does not yet withdraw from his side. Even as she returns that look to the might-be-okay mask, her own expression so difficult to discern over a distance, with that veil and this flittery insects. A word carries over the crowd, catches her attention, and she looks away, searching for the source of that 'hope' and too late to find it. Isn't that the way.

Someone wearing pure bright aeterna molded into an expressionless mask and dipped in diamond dust lifts her mask just enough that her lips are exposed, her voice lowering as she presses her mouth against Tehom's ear as her teeth graze the sensitive flesh. "That mirror I saw destruction. Loss and pain and death." Her hand moves to another across the room, "that one was better. Less death, more hope. I am still holding out for the one I like best though," because it is no secret that the mirrors can change and manipulate as they wish.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask has picked out shards of glass from her hand and has now wrapped her bloodied hand in a handkerchief. She has had enough with the mirrors and decides not to look too deeply into any more. She makes quick work of a few more drinks and seems to just be taking a few moments to recompose herself within the alcove.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals loosens his hold on his partner. "I will go with you when it is time, if it is time. But you need not go with my cold hand in yours. It may be that the warm no more want to look into the mirrors than I do. All this chance of folly surrounding us." He is playing his bit, but some very real nerves are more and more apparent as the blood night wears on.

grasps the blood red stone. She peeks up toward the man in Burlap, giving him a smile and then rises to her feet. Her right knee looks a little red and might bruise, but for the most part she looks okay after the fall. "Thank you." She says. "For watching your feet better than I watched mine."

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning stares down at the gem in her hand, inspecting it carefully. With her dress fashioned from thin leather, there appear to be few places to tuck the gem for safekeeping and so she keeps her fingers curled tightly around it while following her escort. She scans the crowd, letting her gaze linger briefly upon Tehom. Her mouth moves but the words remain beyond hearing, a low whisper directed to her companion, for his ears alone.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has joined the line.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has joined the line.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies has joined the line.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals has joined the line.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has joined the line.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden has joined the line.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull seems to have engaged herself in animated conversation with Storm Cloud and Stag upon a set of inviting couches along with her more resplendently dressed companion, with his blazing white attire and gilded accents. But the slender figure seems discomfitted upon leaving, after greeting the lithe masculine figure with his mirror-mask framed by his impeccably tailored aeterna cowl. There is a look over her shoulder as her more physically imposing companion leads her away from the group and towards the dance floor, trained to the group they just left, but soon, the wondering expression fades to allow herself to drink in the room and the strange, not-quite-reflections flitting through the mirrors. While inquisitivity slows her steps on thin, dangerous heels, she seems reluctant to look *too* deeply into the reflective surfaces that so dominate the room.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has joined the line.

Turn in line: Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water has joined the line.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom finds a seat to put himself in it and offers dice out to those that dare to play his games.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull rises from his seat, a hand extended to his matte-black companion before there's a quick bow offered to those seated at the couch - and the newly arrived Wolf and Orchid. "I think I agree with the lady - introductions are unnecessary, and perhaps against the evening's spirit." They're departing a moment later, though, the stark contrasts in their costumes only highlighted by their proximity. Their path is interrupted by the distraction of the countless mirrors, his own gaze following the woman's though he lacks her hesitation in letting it linger, seeming to catch on one mirrored panel to study its surface before focusing on the next in turn. Cutting strides carry them towards the dance floor, their arrival marked by a departure of his partner's hand from his elbow to a more proper dancing posture. His is stiff, rigid, though there's an appearance that he at least *knows* what he's doing, even if it's not a particularly artful display on his part.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies eyes her companion without yet pulling her hand from his loosened hold. "I'll ask nothing of you that you do not wish to give," she promises. "I feel no particular need to retread old paths." Still, she turns a look toward the mirrors and, yes, slips her hand free. "But you've acknowledged your reflection, and I mean to greet mine." With a flutter of silken wings in blue and yellow, she bows her head to her boulder-masked companion and steps away, moving toward the woman in the mask of public mourning and her date instead.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom marginally fails.

3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards, Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog arrive, following Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver checks charm and streetwise at normal. Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver is successful.

There's an awkward looking retainer than murmurs something in the Shining One's ear which causes her to glow once again. The moon gives it a dark reddish tint. "I'm sorry, darlings. I need to tend to my swan." She says with an apologetic smile before giving the shadowed feathery warning a farewell hug. She murmurs something to the leering shadow mask before slinking off, with her dress carrying that impossibly shimmer as she walks.

3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards, Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog leave, following Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing burlap sack gives a fleeting smile to Reindeer, partially visible from beneath the silk sack. "Of course. You're quite welcome, and I believe anyone would have made that kind of mistake if not particularly practiced in dancing." A wary eye is given to the line forming, "Tempting, but my secrets are my own, Lord Tehom." A formal bow is given to the diamond dusted expressionless mask, "Thank you, and I look forward to next year's." Off he goes into the night afterwards, gait a bit unsteady.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals folds his arms forBIDdingly once his partner draws away. "Go see to the mourner. I will stand here and face the lord of the hour. While standing firmly. In line." So he does.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing burlap sack has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is overheard praising Jaenelle.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Petal has her stone and she gets into the line while cradling such. The man in the burlap sack is given a wave with her left hand not holding the rock.

"Isn't it just," says the man who is likely - most evidence suggests it, even if that evidence is carefully constructed - okay. He stands before the mirror and watches, peripherally aware, perhaps, that the sunshine is on its way. Even if his arm is around the more vivid mourner's shoulders. "Hopefully the mirrors don't cut as well, mm?" he's saying to her.

Someone wearing The Shining One has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a black wolf mask completes his final circuit, saying hello to those he believes he knows well, though...for a split second...wonders whether he /is/ dead wrong about their identities. Probably, but that's the point! So, he murmurs a suggestion into Orchid's ear, eyes focusing intently upon the ballroom's exit as he does. After conferring and deciding, the man nods and then escorts his date in that direction.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom studies Reflection as the deepest desire comes out and then he looks towards the mirror. Then he looks back. There could be a low chuckle on the other side of the mask. He offers with a deepened voice. "There is never just one. It is a process and to do so, you must make sure you are willing to do whatever it takes. The Mirror allows it for you, but the path is not without sacrifice. You will have to decide if you truly desire this beyond blood-ties of family and water-ties of friends. It is a path you are allowed. The steps are already forming for you come tomorrow. Just ask yourself what you are most willing to sacrifice for it and then give it to the Mirror."

Hours after they arrived, the woman in the half mask of rubies and diamonds and the man in the bird of flight mask slink from the shadows, closely linked and a little punch-drunk by the weight of the evening. The glow of red, the swirling shadows, the wine, the company? All of those couple to make for a heady experience, and the pair certainly enjoyed themselves. Now, however, they slip toward the exit, masks still firmly in place, but looking a little like a pair who listened very much to what the hostess suggested - stolen moments of passion in the shadows! All in all, a top night.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom links her arm with the Black Wolf's and boldly stretches up to place a kiss upon the side of his mask all in keeping with the night's festivities. A little wave and glance backward to those who remain is given as the two leave.

"Would it be so terrible if they did?" asks the veiled woman in sunshine and butterflies as she draws up to one who seems probably okay and another who seems probably less so. With a fluttering bow of her head, silken wings stirring where they're perched, she murmurs, "I do not mean to disrupt your reflection." Potential insincerity seeing as that's precisely what she's doing, rather intentionally. "It's just that my cold companion has told me I /must/ face my opposition, and so I've come to tell you--" Very clearly addressed to the mourner. "--how exquiste you look this evening, how terrible and magnificent your mask. How hollow, yes?" A cheerful guess, that. "And you--" To the mourner's companion, the up-and-down-and-up-again of her attention so subtle below that gossamer veil. "Delightful. Entirely unconvincing, but delightful all the same."

Someone wearing a bird in flight mask wrought from gold and encrusted in rubies and black opals has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask stands back and politely takes a very pointed interest in the other dancers as the Reflection, his dancing partner, takes a break to go place dice with Tehom.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask's arms are tightly folded as they await their turn in line, their posture utterly closed, toe tapping. Something has clearly disquieted or irked the wearer. Perhaps both.

Someone wearing a leather mask adorned with a violet orchid bloom leaves, following Someone wearing a black wolf mask.

Turn in line: Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains has joined the line.

Someone wearing a vibrant and glittering half mask of rubies and diamonds has left the Shadowy Corner.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake checks dexterity at normal. Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake checks dexterity at hard. Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake checks dexterity at daunting. Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake checks dexterity at daunting. Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake is successful.

The Reflection stares at the Tehom-masked individual for a long moment, then shakes their head and rises up, "Telling me to work for it is hardly granting a desire. I've already sacrificed the family ties, any Velenosan should know that." Shaking their head once more, they depart from the table and move back to their partner, offering a short bow towards the gold and sapphire masked man, "This was fun. I hope you have a good rest of your evening." Turning once more, the Reflection heads out.

Someone wearing Reflection, a full-face mask in mirrorsilver has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning exhales a breath, one which might count as a laugh, or nearly so. "To be entirely truthful? I'd expect nothing less from the mirrors themselves. Don't you think?" The mournful one lets her weight sag slightly against her companion who is probably okay - or at least seemingly more outwardly okay by comparison. The veiled woman in sunshine and butterflies receives her attention, her head turning as she takes in the other woman's visage. "Made all the more truthful for what my counterpart brings," she notes wryly with a subtle nod of her head. "And you are the other side to it all - warmth and light."

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning checks composure at hard. Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning is successful.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains steps into the group forming around the mask of Tehom. Still silent, still austere and graceful. Dark eyes are nearly black behind their mask.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask is left looking a little bit worried as his dancing partner sasses Tehom and then leaves. He blinks a few times, then looks around the room. After a moment, he decides it's time to go sit down again. He's still looking a little green around the gills, something that's a lot more obvious now that his smile has faded.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake steps forward. The diminutive, dusky-skinned woman -- or maybe just very-well-sun-tanned woman, but it's not quite the season for that yet -- takes up the dice and rolls. And then rolls again. And again... It's a good thing that she's wearing her giant leather cobra mask. For one thing, it prevents anyone from seeing her sweating as the rounds of dice with the Tehom-masked figure continue. For another thing, she's encased her entire head in a leather cobra shape. She's /definitely/ sweating and it's probably a minor miracle of the gods that she hasn't fallen over from some form of dehydration yet. But maybe, just maybe, that dehydration and horrible inner-mask sweat stank are the factors pushing her forward. When she at last wins in the fourth round of tosses, her shoulders sag in visible relief -- and then she leans in to whisper to the Tehom mask. Well. She leans in, stops, takes her mask's extended fake tongue in her hand and bends it out of the way so it's not, like, poking Tehom in the mouth, and then leans in fully to whisper, in a language not Arvani.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has joined the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features takes Moonlight by the hand and rises from the couch where they're both seated. Both of them are radiating some sort of uneasy energy, but in a manner which is directly oppositional, as if they're two sides of the same coin. "We are dancing," Melting Mirror says, in a voice which brooks no objection, and pulls Moonlight onto the floor, making sure they have a wide berth before drawing him into a wildly spinning, athletic dance of flying feet, sure to spend at least some of that energy.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom watches the Reflection and her reaction. Right? That is where the visage seems tipped. He utters something low to her before he loses again. Blast those dice. He listens to the snake wearing winner and this time he nods his head and drops his voice a bit lower. Wuhoh.

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing an archaic stygian mirror-mask with shimmering aeterna cowl meanders lazily through the room, stopping briefly on the ballroom floor to take a few solitary spins and dance steps before exiting.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has left the Decadent Couch.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has joined the Ballroom Floor.

The man who is maybe, potentially, arguably okay behind that mask - he turns his attention toward sunshine and butterflies, just a flicker of attention back to the mirrors before he turns to address her, arm still slung around his companion. "Just so. We learn from each other," he says softly; that doesn't sound like /okay/ behind the mask, but instead a pleasure and a warmth. "What a sight you are tonight." A little breathless, but that's not theatrics; he seems quite taken. "We were observing how everything lovely seems to have a sharp edge here. Perhaps we are become our disguises." A glance back toward the mourner, and he adds: "Would you like to see what the mirrors hold, with us? I might recommend against the pool, for you. Sully all that sunshine."

Someone wearing leering shadow mask has joined the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask exits the shadowy alcove and walks towards the main entrance, expressing thanks to the hosts as he goes.

Someone wearing a cross owl mask has left the Shadowy Alcove.

Her attention caught, Butterfly finds herself unable to resist the gathering around the Tehom masked figure. After a quiet word with her Snake, the pair make their way to the edge of the crowd, hand-in-hand.

Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask bid farewell to the Aeterna-Cowled mask, having easily found his feet soon after the Storm Cloud had answered the question with one eloquent answer. Antlered crown swung over to spot exactly what the Cloud's gaze had settled on before he took into form between smoky quartz eyes the destination that was impending. A blue-tinged hand was taken within a leather glove as he meandered off along with his companion toward center stage; the Cowled masked having foretold an impending encounter that soon could not be avoided. The Stag grabbed hold of the Storm Cloud's wrist securely once upon the ballroom floor, enacting her into a gentle spin before bidding her close enough to send the two into a spirited formation guided by the lofting melodies spilling from the musicians around them.

Curiousity has drawn the snake from the seat of power, or near enough to it. He moves along with his Butterfly, craning his head slightly to see what appears to have attracted so much attention. Careful to keep Butterfly close at this side.

Turn in line: Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask meanders in late, absolutely nonchalant about being so tardy to the event. Having no date, she just meanders towards the crowd to try to figure out what is going on.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake listens to the man wearing the visage of Tehom, as intently as anyone wearing a big prop snake mask can appear to intently listen to anything. When their quiet conversation ends, the little cobra looks directly at the Tehom-figure and states, quite authoritatively: "Hisssssssssssssssss." Then there's a bit of a flounce in walking away.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals glances over at his former partner, who has not yet returned to the line from her journey. He steps forward and stiffly, deeply, inclines his head to the figure of Tehom. "It would be most inappropriate for me to challenge you in any way, sir. You are far beyond me. However, I will tell you something of my past and I hope you might tell me some piece of future that will be like the past. There is comfort in continuity."

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals does, with that, lower his voice to a hesitant whisper.

"One lie outed by another?" the woman in sunshine and butterflies laughs, verdant eyes bright beneath her veil. The wing-fluttering shake of her head might belie her words, but isn't there some terrible contradiction in that? The purse of her lips for Mr. Okay's words about learning might be missed behind her veil. So, too, might the low-lashed look she gives him. "Either you make a liar of yourself by suggesting there's no loveliness in all this softness or you've found some sharpness where there is naught but air and light," she contests, but even so her gaze is turning over her shoulder, looking back to her crystal-capped companion. "But if you've some patience, I'll retrieve my colder, harder half that we might all brave this magnificent terror together." And, oh, she *should* wait, but she doesn't. She isn't him, isn't her steady companion. She is a creature of whim, and that fickleness, now, guides her back to the boulder-masked man's side, nearer to Tehom.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom looks over the boulder when they 'roll up' on him. He tips his head to him as he listens and then he seems to reflect on the mirrors. So much right? Reflection.

Someone wearing pure bright aeterna molded into an expressionless mask and dipped in diamond dust looks amused as her guest of the dice seems to have encouraged a crowd, leaving him there to suffer if his secrets. "I would like to dance," she says upon a sigh as if it always seems the hostess is resigned to do so at the end of her own events.

On the dance floor, the pair of skulls - vibrant gold and matte-black - are engaged in a slow, steady dance, the distraction provided by the mirrors turning the steps into something that approaches languid. There's a murmured conversation happening, enough to prompt a soft smile, though there's *something* that brings an immediate halt to both the dance and the conversation. The golden skull parts from his partner, his grasp from the dance persistent but with new space introduced between them. His head cants to the side, though a few moments later and the distance is banished by an affectionate embrace that's not quite a stance one would expect to do much dancing from. That pretense, apparently, is gone entirely.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features spins Moonlight around the floor in a dizzying until the masked gentleman begs off, the two of them both a bit breathless. There's something in the mirror's poise of disdain as the two of them pass through the crowd, catching snatches of conversation around the masked figure of Tehom. The Mirror nonetheless lets Moonlight join that crowd again - apparently having received what answer would suit already - and offers a gloved hand to the hostess.

An empty glass abandoned and a fair-well is offered to the figured in the archaic mask, watching their exit only for a moment. One hand held, the other is carefully navigating ever shimmering skirt with purpose towards the dance floor. Her eyes briefly catch a reflection, hers, in a mirror as she walks, confident steps towards the middle of the room. She smiles at it. Whether it pleased her or not. Tanzanite raindrops flurry when she is spun around, inviting the sudden movement as she's drawn into their space. Sapphire-tinted slippers glide over the floor, moving with practiced grace. Behind the mask, vivid eyes light up, seeking those of her dancing partners' letting the images of the room slip away as she commits to the dance.

Turn in line: Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom drops his voice low to the boulder and then extends his hand out towards the line. His fingers curl up towards his palm as one finger points back out and then curls back towards his palm again; beckoning.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals listens to the man with the visage of Tehom and then allows a ghost of a smile into his just-visible eyes. "Curiously put, lord of tonight. Well-stated." He looks over his shoulder to the woman of butterflies and sunshine and says, "I shall await you by the one masked in mourning." With that, he approaches public mourning and the, purportedly, just okay.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies alights behind the icy boulder-masked man, fingers briefly brushing his shoulder to mark her presence without imposing on his privacy as he conducts his business with might-be-Tehom. Is Tehom. For the night, if not always. The distinction hardly matters while the moon is so red. When it's then her turn, she bows her veiled head, the winged critters caught on that silk feigning fluttering ever so fleetingly. "I've never been one for chance," she tells Tehom. With a cant of her head as she rights herself, she adds airily, "Or desire." That must be a lie. Whatever the case, she tips in close and murmurs something for only the Thirteenth's ears, her expression more muted beneath her veil when she draws back.

"Hm." Butterfly seems mostly satisfied with the answer to her quiet question of Snake, her head tilting as she watches a couple of masked figures take the chance with dice or exchange whispers with the Tehom figure. There is a touch of doubt in the way her lips curl down in the corners, but she isn't leaving yet. In fact, she may be leaning closer, curiosity taking its toll. Though, she seems unwilling to be without contact with the Snake, lest she might be lost from him in the crowd.

"Depends on how you look at it, I think," the woman in the mournful mask muses to sunshine and butterflies. She doesn't bother to expound on her thoughts, however, allowing the other woman to step back toward the games of chance being hosted by Tehom. Her hand darts out to pluck a glass from the tray of a passing server, evidently deciding more wine is needed before taking a glimpse into the mirror. She sends a pointed glance toward her possibly okay companion, silent questioning whether she ought to snag one for him too. She'll not wait for an answer, instead reaching for a second wine glass which she presses into his hand.

Between his own curiousity and that of his Butterfly, the Snake seeks a closer spot through the crowd. Keeping his careful but secure grip on the hand of Butterfly, the pair make their way through the press of flesh, seemingly have each decided to engage in dice with the ... whatever being it is that is before them.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull appears engrossed in soft conversation with the man hidden behind a brilliant golden skull mask as he maneuvers her carefully on the dance floor. The details of the words are lost in the din and the exuberance of the ballroom's ensconced revelry - but certainly not enough to drown out the distant baying of wolves at the moon; on any other night, there may be more tension there, but she seems more intent on searching what she could find in her companion's half-hidden expression until their dance suddenly halts. Worry plays, briefly, on the visible half of her face - but in a few moments not much is seen when her significantly larger companion suddenly engulfs her in an embrace. If there's any laughter, it is thankfully lost in the surrounding hubbub; she would *never* admit to it. In lieu of verbally responding to the query posed to her, she simply nods, and offers her hand for the bigger man to take.

Sunshine is sent off from the mirrors to the lord of mirrors; he-who-is-okay steps behind the mourner, and murmurs something in her ear. When that man in the boulder-carved mask approaches, he lifts his head from her shoulder, gives a nod. "Aren't you terrifying," he comments, with a puff of reflexive laughter. "Did you like what Lord Tehom had to say?"

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a matte black skull leaves, following Someone wearing a half-mask crafted in the shape of a brilliant golden skull.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake seats herself at the edge of a sofa. When the hostess of the evening in her gorgeous diamond-dusted mask bemoans the fate of all hostesses, there is perhaps a touch of sympathy in the cobra's words: "Hisssssssss~."

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom offers a low comment before turning to see who is next to play with the fates.

Turn in line: Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden checks intellect and haggling at normal. Critical Success! Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden is spectacularly successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Whatever glimmer of a smile was in the boulder-carved masked man's before is utterly gone by the time he is within speaking distance of he-who-is-okay. He is back to stony and cold, his booted steps very -- booted. "You react appropriately." The terror or the laughter? Perhaps both. "Lord Tehom is in a merry mood, this night of folly. He suggests there are other possibilities other than the path I am set upon."

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features murmurs something softly to the ice-and-stone masked gentleman, awaiting the response of the glimmering astern hostess.

Someone wearing a shimmering coral-encrusted storm cloud mask leaves, following Someone wearing a shaped leather young stag mask.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom glances up for a moment at the line and offers, "Favored one. What is it you have come to play and learn of?" Did he sound happy to have her and lose so horribly bad? Or maybe he's happy his 'favored' is so good at this game.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies listens to Tehom's words, her head bowing again as he goes on. Those nearby might catch a quiet sniffle as she rights herself, as she pulls up a little taller than she'd been standing before and nods to the Thirteenth. She murmurs a soft, "Thank you," as she steps away. Once she's turned, when she thinks no one might be looking, she tucks a hand up beneath her veil and brushes fingers beneath her eyes, the fabric fluttering with a heavy exhale when she moves forward once more, aiming to rejoin her companion, her reflection and a might-be-liar by the mirrors.

Someone wearing pure bright aeterna molded into an expressionless mask and dipped in diamond dust eyes the gloved hand as its extended in her direction, and while her features remain covered, there is a grin to her words, "an offer? How lovely!" She takes the offered hand in her's as she moves forward, her voice lowering a touch as she does.

"I may take a chance on this," Butterfly murmurs to Snake, taking his earlier words about making bold choices to heart. When the Tehom figure spots her and speaks to her, she flushes. "Favored?" She blinks. "Oh. If you can make people's desires come true..." She falters, looking around at the crowd. She seems to be deciding whether she will ask aloud or not. "I don't remember where I come from, who I am other than.... Well, who I am. I assume you can see through the mask." Her shoulders shrug. "I wish to rewrite my story, to have some memories, some solid footing."

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden nods in support of Butterfly, a smile of admiration for her willingness to own her desire and to speak it to life in front of the gathered masses.

The murmured words from her likely-okay companion bring a sharp glance from the dark mourner, full attention narrowed upon him. She mutters a low reply, then turns in time to catch the boulder-carved mask's response. "Seems your acceptance of that response will depend upon whether or not you are pleased with your current path," she notes, her tone direct. She waits until sunshine and butterflies has rejoined the small group, no commentary made for any unsettling responses received from Tehom, but a hint of knowing in her glance. She faced that game of chance earlier in the evening, after all. "The mirrors, then," she declares.

"You speak your desires out loud..." Tehom, totes Tehom, offers as he draws her in just a bit more and offers, "But I don't give my answers as such to longings. You have won though...." His voice drops

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features takes the white, glimmering figure's hand. "I would never," Melting Mirror assures. "You know you are breathtakingly lovely, and it is my pleasure. Now -" a gliding and spinning step, leading the hostess back out onto the danceflooor, all attention focused on her for the moment.

Turn in line: Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden

"You got a merry mood, did you," says the man who - for a moment - sounds more regretful than his mask suggests he ought to be. He studies the boulder for a moment, nods at the mourner's estimation. "A blessing for the man, perhaps? A curse for the mask." His eyes slip past that boulder-hewn man to Tehom, and the sunshine that went that way, returning. "A very shifting mood, it looks like. Are you alright, dear sunlight?"

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden checks charm and economics at normal. Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden checks charm and economics at hard. Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden fails.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake lounges about on the arm of a couch in the manner of the idle, serpentine rich, looking entirely too comfortable doing so, for someone who's wearing a giant snake head on her shoulders. Something prompts her to get up and be on her way, though. Perhaps Tehom-totes-Tehom's words still rattle around inside her leather hood. Or perhaps she needs to go drink a gallon of water and exfoliate her face for a week straight. It's really anyone's game -- the possibilites are infinite.

Someone wearing a Soupcon of Snake has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Whatever the Tehom-figure has said to the Butterfly has her frowning in thought as she drifts aside so the Snake might try his luck.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals exchanges a few words with the Melting mirror. He looks toward his companions, particularly his companion of the night. And then he looks past them, toward the mirrors, and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says, dropping his formality for a moment. "There's a limit to my folly tonight. I can't stare into the mirrors. I must remain behind."

Fortune cannot favor in such proximity, and the Snake resigns himself to having hopefully been a good luck charm for the Butterfly. He leans towards the figure of Tehom, offering up his secret.

Someone wearing a mask of moonlight over water has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden is overheard praising Jaenelle.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask starts to look a little more fortified with another few sips from yet another glass of wine, and takes an interest in the game taking place elsewhere in the room. He rises and drifts closer.

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains is overheard praising Jaenelle.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden speaks his secret unto Tehom, words inaudible to anyone else. The effort is taxing, nonetheless, and those close enough to see some elements of the Snake's face below the mask see it grow ashen, blood draining from it. As if forced to face the secret as he speaks it.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies turns a bright smile, its corners hidden by the butterflies on her veil, to the maybe-okay man. Whether it's an assurance of her own okayness or a resumption of her role is difficult to discern, details so terribly muted beneath that veil. And her attention turns too quickly to the be-crystalled man with whom she arrived, really, that smile shared with him, too. "There's been more than enough, darling." With a glance to the patient pair, she notes, "I think I'd like to." No must, nothing so certain. To her chilly friend again, "I'll find you after?" Already, though, she's moving to join the others, a hand upon her stomach, a smile beneath her veil. "Shall we then?"

Butterfly reaches a hand out, landing it upon Snake's shoulder gently. The look upon what of his face she can see has her worried and shakes her from whatever thoughts she was preoccupied with moments earlier. "You look like you need water. Come, let's go. Water, fresh air." Her hand is extended in offer to guide him from the ballroom, one last critical look at the Tehom figure with a respectful bob of her head.

Turn in line: Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask has been rather impatiently waiting in line, but when it is their turn to approach again, they do so with rather greater reluctance than the gusto with which they entrusted themselves to the dice. Regardless, they approach, and whispers low, at first, then more forcefully, almost to the point of becoming audible to the room at large, but not /quite/ yet. Someone wearing an Antlered Buck mask then backs off, hands balled into tight fists. "...So. Tell me, then, what my future holds."

Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains stands so still, patiently awaiting her chance to gamble with totally Tehom. They don't even have a glass of wine! They watch the Buck, perhaps vaguely curious.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom sits back upon his 'throne of lies' wait that's santa. He listens to Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask and a laugh comes forth from behind the mask. He shakes his head and offers, "But you do not." He dorps his voice from there. Let's get ready to rumble.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features dances with the hostess in all her gleaming white until she's ready to stop, before politely escorting her to the edge of the ballroom. A pause to see to Moonlight, making certain he's taking himself straight home and not to burn any cathedrals, and then he waits, watching the exchange between the Buck and Tehom, offering another aside to the ice-and-stone-masked gentleman.

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden hangs suspended, for a moment, listening to the response from the visage of Tehom. He nods, uncertainly, but in agreement. Were it not for the hand from Butterfly, he would not be shaken from his paralysis. He takes a step back, eyes unfocused. He straightens, gaze lingering on Tehom as he slowly backs away. With the Butterfly's words, the spell is broken, and he turns, moving to depart the ball room with swiftness replacing the prior grace of his step.

Someone wearing a mask of public mourning seems to be caught somewhere between curiosity and dread, her shoulders tense and her mood subdued - or perhaps that's simply the effect of her grief-stricken facade. She continues holding her now-forgotten wine glass in one hand, head canted toward the mirrors as she turns to her possibly okay and sunshine companions. "Let's."

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning is overheard praising Jaenelle: Hostess beyond compare

Someone wearing snake of the twilight garden has left the Grand Duchess Throne.

Someone wearing butterfly of the twilight garden has left the Grand Duchess Throne.

Turn in line: Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning

"Though the sun rise and fall a thousand times till we meet again, you shall find me," the boulder-masked man says, back to formal. Back to acting. He bows to the woman of sunshine and butterflies, and then to the woman of mourning and sir just-okay. "I hope you can readily weather what you see in the reflection," he says, and moves to depart. Although he does pause briefly to listening to the Melting Mirror, his head canted.

1 Knight of the Temple, 1 Templar Knight guards, Luzio, the burly Mirrormask leave, following Someone wearing an artful and unnaturally reflective stygian mirrormask.

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask's expression cannot be seen beneath the mask. That's the rather the point! But there is in irritated snort at the laughter that their words provoke, as well as the abject denial that follows it. Still. "...There is more to this world than cages and bars." Fury tinges the buck's words, as they retreat.

And so the mostly probably maybe (doing terribly under the) okay man turns back toward the mirrors, back in place behind the mourner, reaches an arm aside to loop around sunshine, too. And in the waning minutes of the eclipse, they watch the mirrors briefly. If the mirrors hold horrors, it isn't evident, at least not immediately. Maybe he's steadied at this center, where there's both despairing and sun, yet. But he should move off if there's nothing, so there must be /something/; and then it becomes clear that he's holding his breath when he breathes again, and suddenly turns toward sunshine and butterflies, looking not at all like that's what he's looking at, the crinkles of his eyes communicating even through holes in a mask - concern? Fear? Something much sharper than that muted mask allows. He doesn't know what to say.

Someone wearing a stygian mask which looks carved from a boulder, decorated with ice-white crystals has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features laughs at whatever the ice-and-stone gentleman says, a sound which rings throughout the ballroom with a sort of joy that sits heavy in the stomach, so wild and pure it's uneasy. A final look is tossed back over the Melting Mirror's shoulder toward Tehom, and the figure calls out, "Hope!" as the trails of silvery fabric drag in the wake of their feet.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Botch! Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails badly.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning checks wits and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning is successful.

"It's either stories or truth," the veiled woman of sunshine and butterflies croons to her boulder-masked partner as they part ways, as she joins the Woman of Mourning and Sir Just-Okay. Whatever the mirrors show, she sounds certain of her capacity to weather it. More so, perhaps, when she settles in at Okay's other side as if she were, indeed, a reflection of the grief-stricken lady in leather upon his other side, lightness to that heaviness, both half-sincere, not entirely lies. She, too, watches the red-tinged reflections upon the mirror's surface, a nearly hidden smile suggesting satisfaction at the portrait they present. Until it shifts toward a grimace, tension drawing her shoulders tight, her veiled features creased. The hand upon her round belly shifts lower as she makes a quiet sound. And still, she stands there, studying the mirror and whatever she sees therein.

Petal is still in line, but she is next in line or close to next in line now. She has been very quiet and is holding the blood red stone.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom rolls and well the mask doesn't frown, but the person wearing it probably does. Like who the hell? Then he looks up at the warning and offers, "What is your deepest desire?"

Turn in line: Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask

Bolstered by the presence of her companions, both of similarities and reflections, the mournful-masked woman peers into the mirror. A small, shaky inhalation of breath remains the only hint to her outward response to whatever images might appear to her, but before her attention can linger overlong, her possiby okay friend draws a sidelong glance. "You said not to gaze long. Enough then?"

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checks charm and haggling at normal. Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask checks charm and haggling at hard. Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom speaks to the feathery warning one. Then there might be something close to laughter before he rolls with Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask. "It seems my little prey, you owe me a secret."

:is now next in line and she steps up, seeming all excited and maybe more than a little nervous. She still has the blood stone. She does her best to try and haggle with Tehom to give into her desires and at first she is fairly convincing, but not like Velonosa Princess convincing level, but decent! The seamtress and then she continues, now babbling rather ineffectively. "Once I gave you a flower and you turned into a skeleton flower....you maybe don't remember..." She says, getting all emotional and and easy to out talk. "The flower is...I wonder if it still feels or it if is just dust flowers bits and I think it shattered and and...or if it still has...um...." She says shifting from a foot with a sock to one without a sock. "I guess...this means a secret..."

Mr. Not-Okay-and-Hiding-It-Better-The-Quieter-He-Is tries for maximum quiet, saying nothing - not to the words spoken by his more openly mournful friend, and not to sunshine and her staring. But oh, yes, mourning is right; he curls the arm he's got looped around sunshine and butterflies, like to draw her into a circlet of arms, away from that staring. He glances back at the gilded mourner, shakes his head, face inscrutable behind that mask but intuitively lost, a sort of shipwrecked in his very posture. "It's just the - should I send for the -" he's stuttering words out, not finding footing in reassurance or his question, not finding the last til after a long pause. "Harlequin?"

Someone wearing An Antlered Buck Mask has left the The Impropriety Couch.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom studies Someone wearing a winsome reindeer mask for a long moment. Maybe. Or he could have fallen asleep. He is masked. "Well..." He tips his head. "That doesn't seem much of a secret. However, the flower is still as it was. Whenever a God gifts something it is always as they desire it." He leans forwards a bit more. "Are you quite alright?"

Petal leans in to whisper and she sees pretty shaken up as she does. Her fawn brown eyes are wide with a bit of concern and she flicks her gaze to Tehom to check his reaction.

The best part of a mask. No reaction. Tehom just sort of nods his head to that and seems to make note. "You are free to do as you know is right." Then he looks to see if there is another that wants to play a game.

Turn in line: Someone wearing a stag skull engraved with broken chains

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies, drawn by that curl of Less-Okay-Than-He-Looks' arm, turns from whatever she's watching upon that sanguine surface toward him instead, a hand alighting delicately upon his chest. For just a second. Those fingers prove as fluttery as her attire, drawing away a heartbeat later as she shapes her veiled grimace into a bright--and not entirely convincing--smile. Oh, how swiftly that melts, too, dissolving into apology for the gilded mourner as she nods to the question. "Please," she tells Not-Reall-Okay. "Perhaps after we've--" She tips her head toward the exit. Or maybe toward some of the seating over thattaway. Both are probably good ideas right about now.

Someone wearing a shadowed feathery warning has left the Ballroom Floor.

Someone wearing leering shadow mask has left the Ballroom Floor.

It takes a moment or two for Sir Not-Quite-Okay's meaning to fully sink in, and for the realization to strike the gilded mourner. She glances from one companion to the other, expression imperceptible behind the facade. "Oh. /Oh./ Harlequin, yeah, got it. Don't worry about it - I'll go." She unceremoniously shoves her wine glass at a nearby server, wine sloshing upon them both, but no consideration is given to apologies due. The masked mourner is a woman on a mission now, having already turned to hastily make her way toward the exit, departing without another word.

Maybe the Velenosa ballroom would be /perfectly suitable/ for things involving Harlequins. You know, literally any other time. Under any other circumstances. Not now, not tonight, under the bloodmoon, after - well. Whatever that was. "To the tower," haha-maybe-okay-eventually calls after his mourning friend, and - arm still around sunshine, he spares not a glance back, not for mythic creatures or good-humored gambling gods.

Someone wearing sunshine and butterflies leaves, following Someone wearing a mask that is probably okay.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask is the last in line (maybe, unless chains comes back), and smiles as he approaches the Visage. It's been a long night, and it shows on his face, which is still a little bit green from whatever he saw in the mirror, however long ago that was, so the smile isn't what it could be. "Fortune favors the bold, but perhaps you will favor the not-so-bold with a fortune in exchange for a secret, yes?" And then he leans forward, lowering his voice, and speaks at length through something that fades his smile even more, leaving his hazel eyes a little bit sad.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom nods his head and does the 'come closer' thing to man to do just that. "Of course, I am in good spirits on the Moon of Blood." Or Bloodmoon.

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask has joined the line.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom considers the secret told to him and then he looks towards the mirrors. It is there that the future is held right. He looks more at the man and then leans forwards to give him his 'warning' or his 'blessing'.

Turn in line: Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask

Turn in line: Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom offers his words to the man and then looks towards the rainbow. The mask doesn't allow for much in way of reaction. But. Rainbow.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask looks a little bit stricken at whatever Maybe-Tehom tells him; there is, just for a moment, a flash of genuine hurt in his eyes. Then he rallies, takes a step back, and bows. "A fortune comensurate with the secret. Thank you."

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask smiles a bit as she catches the attention of Perhaps-Tehom, and she slinks in his direction, taking a moment to twirl a bit so that her gown catches the light in a delightful colorful sort of way.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask looks a little shellshocked as he drifts out the door, not so much as remembering to say his goodbyes.

Someone wearing a gold and sapphire mask has left the Inviting Couches.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at normal. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask checks dexterity and performance at normal. Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at hard. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom is successful.

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask checks dexterity and performance at hard. Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom marginally fails.

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask checks dexterity and performance at daunting. Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask marginally fails.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom checks command and legerdemain at daunting. Someone wearing the visage of Tehom fails.

Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask checks dexterity and performance at daunting. Someone wearing a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask is successful.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom rolls the dice over his knuckles and then tosses it upon some surface nearby. There is a scoff as they tend to come up with the same roll. What is the chances of that? Stupid bloodmoon. Then she finally wins. "It seems I owe you a desire. So what is your deepest desire, Rainbow?"

The dice are thrown. It's a bit of a contest, and the lady in a prismatic iridescent rainbow mask comes up the winner. "What do I desire most? Ah, I would like very much to be able to understand and sing the song of the Dream," she replies after a moment, nodding once.

Someone wearing the visage of Tehom studies her for a longer moment. There is a shake of his head to that desire. He drops his voice like he has to the others and leans forwards to speak.

The line has been dismissed by Someone wearing the visage of Tehom.