The Masquerade Ball (Open to ALL)

[Quint Caravel]

(OOC: I apologize for the text-iness of this first post. I should have a box code soon, but I really am new to this whole Mizahar experience.)

===========================================================================

The dream began on the first day of Autumn in the year 513 AV, and for Quint Caravel, it lasted every night that season. He didn't know how or why he was having such a recurring dream, but somehow he was.

Each and every night it began the same way: he found himself at the gates of a stately mansion in a city he did not recognize, but it was a port city accessible to all. A port city on the side of a mountain, so even flying creatures or those who rode eagles could attend. There was a fine stable for horses, a garage for caravans, and the port could handle any sized boat from a one-man casinor up to an armada flagship.

The city was full of races that Quint had never seen before. A man with one red arm walked hand-in-hand with a girl that became a tiger. Another man shuffled slowly next to a woman with wings. There was a family with tattoos. A large man with midnight blue skin stood chatting with a strange fish-like person. Two men were engaged in friendly sparring on a street: one was golden-skinned and had many arms, and the other had the bright clothes and piercing blue eyes of a Svefra. There was also a naked beggar man who kept turning into an elephant and going "Sun? Sun?" at people.

It was a city. Some people loved, some fought, and some just wanted to be left alone. But somehow Quint found himself tugged along, pulled into the city and towards a large mansion that overlooked all quarters of it. He had seen this estate before in his dreams, perhaps a fragment of a memory from Cyphrus or another province he had once been in. In real life he had seen it and wished he had one just like it. Now-- in this strange dream-- it was his.

And he was throwing a party like he had never seen, in the biggest ball room he could imagine. It seemed large enough to fit a province into, or at least a small city. The chandelier looked to Quint like it was as big as a sun; it had something that looked like a gorilla hanging onto it, but he was speaking Common in a slow, thoughtful manner to something that looked like a talking candleabra.

Quint had a full staff of butlers and maids and attendants, but they appeared to already have been given orders by their previous owner and they were all running around attending to guests. Not wanting to push the issue, Quint stood on the dais and let everyone come and go as they pleased.

Some of the participants seemed dazed. Some seemed half-asleep. Many were wearing the clothes they went to bed in, be it nightgowns or underwear or robes. A few wore nothing at all. But almost all were masked in some way. Sometimes in little domino masks, sometimes in full costumes. One very awake (or at least aware) woman was dressed in beads and feathers and a smile, and her partner wore a full tuxedo and mask.

The music was very ecletic. It cycled through the known styles of all the different provinces. Every race, city or culture that had a theme song or national anthem would hear it eventually. These songs were rotated with slow ballads and waltzes and dances for couples.

Quint saw that on a raised podium to the left of the dance floor was a buffet table stocked with foods from... well, from everywhere, and some things he wasn't sure was food at all. Or at least some it seemed to still be moving. Taking up the entire wall behind this table was a bar stocked with drinks of ever spirit and style. Hard and soft, ciders and beverages were all available, along with all varieties of ice and water from springs on Mount Izurith.

"This is really incredible," Quint said to the woman in beads and feathers who was now standing next to him.

"Well, it's your party, Guv'nor. It's a shame someone has to die at the end of it, but for now I hope you have fun." And she padded off to go dance. And she was gone.

Quint blinked, raising one hand to call out after her. "Wait. .. what?!"

Then his attention was taken by someone new entering the party. . .

[Taylani]

Taylani blinks rapidly, her blue eyes confused as she turns around looking at her surrounding. Everything was strange, different, she had never seen anything like this ever. Was she in Syliras? Endrykas? Where was she? When was she? For she looked down and her belly was already round and hard, a movement within surprising a gasp from her lips. What had happened?

Though she was disoriented and confused, there was no fear as she moved through what appeared to be a dance floor of some sort though she didn't recognize a single person. Her red hair was styled up, curls falling around her crown, the pins glittering amid the bright red strands. Her body was covered in silk, something she had never worn in her life, colored a deep burgundy. It clung to her body like a glove. Her breasts were noticeably larger then she remembered, and of course there was her belly.

Her feet were bare, her legs as well, and her face was covered in a mask the same shade as her dress but delicately beaded. It didn't occur to her to take off the mask as she glided across the floor. Apparently her dance training stayed with her even heavily pregnant. She moved toward the man who seemed to eye the incomers, dazedly she spoke "Where am I?"

[Quint Caravel]

So many sights and sounds. Quint saw a Svefra apparently trying to appropriate an entire tray of orange duck. He saw two girls-- clearly twins or sisters close in age-- dancing with their fathers. A woman was strumming a harp while licking her lips and looking hungrily at a very small-sized man. Far above, a young boy was flying around on some kind of bird, maybe an eagle, chatting with a woman with wings.

He clutched his head, trying to focus but finding it impossible. He seemed unable to do anything but go along with the flow. It made him feel like an observer with as little control over things as he would if he was in a thunderstorm.

Until the blue-eyed woman showed up. Suddenly Quint felt like he had a tangible moment to hold onto, if only for a second. He let out a deep sigh and then smiled as she approached. And then he saw her belly, frowned, as a thousand moments that he had ever feared all coalesced into one. Memories of angry cuckolded husbands. Memories of even angrier fathers wanting their daughter married before the child was born. Memories of fearing this very moment.

Her bare feet approached him, but his own feet felt nailed to the ground. Washing over him was a memory from Syliras, a girl with ginger hair crying and calling out for him to come back.

And what was worse was that he didn't remember her a face to match her voice, this ginger girl with blue eyes now approaching him. Not her face or voice or scent-- the mask made it impossible for him to know if she was someone he had ravished or ruined.

For a long time he just stood there frozen like a deer caught in the camp-light of wandering nomads. Or more like a deer about to be speared.

His outfit changed. First he was wearing a tuxedo and full mask. A moment later, he was wearing a sailor's outfit. A moment after that, the outfit of a knight's squire. Then a shopkeeper's apron. Then a tuxedo top and mask, but his legs bare, himself potent and reminding all how easy it was to get a woman in that swollen-belly condition. Then he was back to wearing a full tuxedo and domino mask, but through out all of it he was silent and his eyes were wide with fear.

There was no immediate answer to Taylani. But Quint knew where he was. This was the moment of harbinger and omen, proof that he could never really escape his past.

[Einla Frostfawn]

She slid into the room like sliding on ice, as if she'd just been pushed across something smooth and slippery. But she hadn't been pushed. Einla glanced around, taking in the chandelier and its Jamouran occupant, the well-stocked buffet table, the masked partygoers. Unconcernedly, she reached up and touched her own face, finding a sequined mask which covered only half her face. It was made of wool, she knew, just like her drab grey dress. Both of the garments itched.

Instead of doing anything about the itching, she stepped forward, following the red-haired woman in burgundy - although she hadn't known the woman was there until that moment. Her slippers clicked when they hit the floor; they were wool too, but they were a different kind. They didn't itch. The red-haired woman, she noticed, wasn't wearing shoes. She wouldn't come to a party without any shoes... a party...

She was at a party. How interesting. She was glad she'd been invited. Maybe it was her mother who had done so.

It must have been. She'd have to thank her.

The red-haired woman spoke to a man, and the man's clothes changed and changed and finally settled down as a tuxedo, but she was not concerned. She wanted to know something, though. Something - what had the red-haired woman asked? Oh, that was it. "Yes," she said calmly, stepping forward to stand beside the red-haired woman. "Yes, where am I? Tell me where I am."

[Rhys Blodwen]

Bright lights... Blinding, blinding bright lights... Rhys squinted up at the lights shining above, trying to figure out where he was. He didn't remember falling asleep, though who ever does, but he was obviously asleep. The dirt that usually clung to his ratty clothes and his greasy, stern face wasn't present. In fact... His clothes weren't ratty, really. And he didn't see through his eyes, surprisingly... He saw from an invisible point that seemed to hover above his skull at about sixty degrees south of the zenith. He couldn't see his face, but he couldn't help but notice that he looked organised, clean even. His hair was combed (surprisingly, dream or not), and he almost looked... Good. But the damned lights! As the viewpoint began to become accustomed to the light protruding from the ceiling like a thousand fires, it noticed that there were others here. They varied - oh, how they varied - there were monsters. Things that weren't... That weren't PEOPLE. They were things. There were animals that morphed into other things, and things that morphed into people, and things with horns, and scales, and fur, and... And... Did that pail man's arm just fall off? But they were all laughing... All of them... Some of the people there were absolutely beautiful, some were gorgeous, some were... That one's completely pink. And he was certain that the thing swinging on the chandelier CERTAINLY wasn't wearing clothes, never mind the woman wearing little spheres for clothes. Oooh, was that guy blue? Fair to say, Rhys was intrigued. He didn't move from where he stood, just standing there... Observing. Relentlessly observing. The people, the music that danced on his ears, the flurry of sights and smells, both pleasant and putrid (the latter no doubt produced from the naked ape on the chandelier in both categories) entranced him, flooded his senses. And he loved it. Entranced as he was, he didn't dare venture out into the scene. His feet were nailed to the spot he appeared in, close to the door, but he didn't mind. Watching was quite enough for Rhys. It was amazing, really. Rhys had never seen so many people gathered in one place. It was almost too good to be true. "Where am I?" Came a voice. The viewpoint above Rhys began swiveling around to find the source. The more it moved, the more blinding the lights were. The source, thankfully, didn't take much time to located. A little redheaded woman. Rhys had seen people like her. When he asked his mother why they were fat, his mother said that they were cursed. Once, she slapped him when he asked. He immediately felt sorry for the girl, sorry enough to pity an answer. "It feels like a home." He responded, the viewpoint looking down on her. When he spoke, he didn't feel his lips move. When he looked around, he didn't see his neck move. It was strange. It was natural. The new perspective wasn't dizzying, it wasn't uncomfortable, no, not in the slightest. But the answer... It seemed to emanate from the viewpoint and not from Rhys himself. Almost as if he delivered the thought as opposed to the speech. The petch was this place? And why did he love it so?

[Snowdrop Snowsong]

Light blue eyes turned to red as they opened. Snowdrop looked around the room. People were dancing and laughing, but one thing that went through her mind was how did she get here?

Reaching up to touch her forehead in confusion, she discovered a mask adoring her face. She took it off to look at it. It had blue clothe all around it and gold thread outlined the edges of it. Blue and light blue feathers adorned the side of it.

While looking at the mask, she noticed her gloved hands. They were the same color blue as the mask and the gloves ran up to her elbows. The dress was also the same color. It was sleeveless and the chest part ended just a little below her bulging bust of her breast. A light blue bow adored the center of the chest piece. There was an outer clear clothe that gave off a sparkle shin on the dress. It ended right before her knees and fluttered out. Her heels was cyan blue and sparkly!

Snowdrop put the mask back on and started to walk around. Then something interesting caught her attention. Their was a red with no shoes how odd. She decided to follow the other. Maybe she knew where the young Vantha was.

Mask :

[Taylani]

The man didn't answer her, instead his look of almost abject terror puzzled her. She looked down at her belly, her hands stroking the taunt hump gently, still wondering how she managed to get so far along, how she managed to lose track of so many months. Perhaps she should be looking for Fallan, had she been kidnapped...surely not again...

She had never been here, she knew that..or did she? She had lost so many months apparently who knows where she has been. Suddenly there were others around, another girl who was asking the same question as she was and another...one who seemed like he was here and not here at the same time.

"A home? Whose home?" She turned, feeling sluggish and tired but still oddly no fear or terror, or anything really negative other then just confusion. "Who are you? Are we in Syliras?"

[Einla Frostfawn]

"I think Avanthal..." But she shook her head almost as soon as the words left her lips. They were not in Avanthal, no, they weren't. So she had come here... maybe a very long way. To come to this party.

It had better be a good party, then, better be worth it. But then, of course it would be. Her mother had invited her - or had she? Maybe she hadn't, but why wouldn't she? Einla lowered her head, placing a fingertip to her mouth, trying to think. Who had invited her here? Who... what was she - invited?

It was hard to think. Anyway, why bother? Of course her mother had invited her. It was impossible that anyone else might have done so.

She turned to look at the red-haired woman, eyes flickering down to the round belly. A child... pregnant meant a child. She wondered about this one, this infant that the red-haired woman kept inside her. And so the question was natural. "Who is that?" she said, gesturing at the woman's protruding belly. "Who is your baby?"

[Assilsa Curare]

The flowing silk, the feeling of it wrapped around her waist and forearms. Bliss. Feeling her muscles burn with effort Assilsa continued to spin, the room around her spinning with the braid of hair wrapped around loosely her neck. The silk was a blood red to match the, almost skimpy two piece that was covered in bells.

Tonight she was in a masquerade ball so upon her face sat a black and red mask that looked like spider webs across her face, Assilsa Curare the aerial dancer. She moved gracefully into a position so the strip of silk could wrap around her delicate legs.

Looking at the dancers from upside down, Assilsa began to spin again slowly causing a wave of bells to echo through all the bountiful hall. Assilsa didnt question the dream on itself for since she had met Syn syn she had been enjoying her dreams much more.

As she continued to do flips and tricks to entertain the people bellow her who were looking up. It wasn't until she scanned her audience that she noticed the group of confused people that had seemed to gather.

[Taylani]

Distracted by the woman who seemed so agilely graceful in the rafters, Taylani watched with rapture. Why was she so jealous of the woman? Was she not also a Dancer? Then the memory, as if remembering a life long past, surfaced and she remembered she no longer danced, for she was captive in Endrykas...btu this wasn't Endrykas. Endrykas was mobile, and there was nothing mobile to this.

Perhaps Endrykas was simply a fevered dream? No, if that had been a dream then she wouldn't be pregnant. That train of thought brought her mind back to the woman beside her who asked who her baby was. This seemed like an obvious answer, and her tone spoke of her surprise that the woman didn't know who her baby was. "My baby is Fallan of course. He is coming for me. I must wait for him."

She smiles and her hands stroke the round belly easily, as if what she said made any sense at all. She looked expectantly back up at the woman dancing in the rafters. "Is she going to stay up there all evening? It is evening right?"