The Masquerade Ball (Open to ALL)

[Celeste Arumen]

The fact Annalisa cared enough to be annoyed on her behalf was immensely flattering. The illusionist grinned, further even at the mention of the woman’s “theory.” Everything she’d heard and seen could only support what she’d said, too. Worse still, she mentioned the Embalmer having an affair with Roknus Maelstrom. ”Eeeeeeeeew,” the girl replied, visualizing a pair of kissing corpses. She kicked her legs merrily. ”Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.” She shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. ”Gee thanks,” she added, dejectedly. That’d be in her nightmares, for certain.

”We’ll go on a hunt then,” she replied, just as conspiratorially. ”It’ll be a grand peacock hunt. We’ll find them all and set them loose in the Testing Grounds. And then she’ll have us both in the Dungeons faster than you can spit.” She giggled, thinking of the look on Amaryllis’ face. How livid she would be! ”I think it’s hysterical. We could blame it on that fruity summoner from 9A. Did I ever tell you about him?” She sighed. ”Talk about a madman. He was the one who…” She blinked. Who what? Something struck her as missing, as if there was someone or something she couldn’t quite recall.

”That’s strange. I can’t remember it. He helped me with something, but for some reason, I can’t say what.” she frowned. That didn’t bode well, especially when there was a memory-altering hypnotist on the loose. ”It’s there, I know it, but the thought it just beyond my reach.” She concentrated as hard as she could. She had gone up to 9A and had a riddle contest with Eris, his familiar.

Familiar.

Wait a tick. Where on the Web was Illia?

”My familiar!” She exclaimed suddenly, eyes wide. ”That’s what it was. He helped me find Illia. But where is she?” An acute sense of emptiness suddenly plagued her. The ever-present consciousness of her familiar was no longer a rich hum in the background. It wasn’t there at all. ”That’s truly odd. She’s bound to me. Where could she be?” She glanced around, as if the cloud of purple smoke would pop out of a drink glass somewhere and surprise her.

”Something isn’t quite right, here. Think, Annalisa. How did you get here? Where are we in the first place?”

[Annalisa Marin]

Anna was pleased that Celeste was amused, considering their current situation some levity was needed. Couldn't be letting things get too serious even in the face of life threatening opponents and conspiracy. She chuckled as the mental image of Amaryllis incensed, eye twitching in barely contained anger. Though, it was less amusing for the fear that played back when she remembered actually seeing the Embalmer annoyed. It had been almost as frightening as staring into Rhysol's white eyes, no exaggeration.

The sorceress was less amused and more worried when Celeste seemed to be confused about something, mentioning having no recollection. The name Daren flied to the forefront of her mind, that paranoia in her mind rising prominently. If he'd done something to the girl she'd make an extra note to draw out his suffering at her hands much longer, a quick death would be far from a mercy she'd grant the man.

However what was odd and dispelled the Daren theory was that Celeste managed to recall what she'd forgotten, she was bound to a familiar. That sent off a few warning bells in Anna's mind, being an educated individual from the University the sorceress had heard various rumors regarding various disciplines on magic. Familiary, from her limited knowledge, was a discipline by which a wizard bound themselves to an otherworldly being. Celeste possessing one was certainly interesting, though more interesting was the fact she lacked hers at the moment.

Anna obliged the girl, thinking long and hard about why she was here and how she'd arrived. She thought that it was to hunt down Daren, but something just didn't bode right with that assessment. How had she managed to defeat him? More to the point what had occurred in the Heartlands, and how did she survive that? It was all a big haze now that she thought about it. The only solid memory she'd had before arriving here had been falling asleep on her mat...

Wait...

The memory gaps, the very idea that they were here at a party, Celeste commenting earlier that this was like a dream. Daren couldn't be the cause, even he couldn't have covered up that much without overgiving. Even the fact that she hardly felt tipsy and Celeste seemed perfectly sober contributed to this little theory. The only explanation was the one that didn't make sense logically.

"It could be, and mind you this is a big 'could', that we aren't really here and that this place is not real. Think long and hard, what was your first coherent and relatively clear memory before arriving here. Mine was falling asleep." Anna said, leaning back with a thoughtful look on her face.

"If the realization that follows makes any sense then it could be that this whole thing is merely a figment of our imagination. Though... that might entail that one of us is not really here, merely a conjuration of the other's imagination. Conversely, we are both trapped in this... dreamworld by the whim of another." Anna mused, idly wondering how either was possible.

Magic was powerful, more so than any force wielded by mortals short of divine gifts like her or Celeste's marks. Could it be that some magic was responsible for this? If so, then how did they dispel its hold upon them and return to the world of the waking? Were her powers even with her here?

Of course they were, if it followed that Celeste could change her hair color through rudimentary Morphing then it followed that at least some form of their Djed had followed them here. So in theory, Anna should have access to every facet of magic she controlled in life. However, was their command of magic only allowed because whatever force keeping them here willed it to be so? If that was the case then it was as though they were dealing with a god, able to give and take away whenever it pleased. A disturbing thought to say the least.

Perhaps Celeste would have her own take on the situation, the girl was more intelligent than anyone her age had the right to be. Perhaps her theory was completely mad and she had a more logical idea, Anna was hoping so because the idea of being trapped in a world were logic could be bent was a little frightening.

"Celeste, tell me. How much Djed are you expending to maintain your hair color?" The sorceress asked, seeing that as a way of confirming her worst fears.

[Engghaen]

A man was standing beside her all of the sudden. He flashed her a smile and she smiled back. At least, she tried to.

Then he started to read a list of names she had never heard of before, exept for her own, Ardan's and Brandon's. Why would he thank these people for coming? And why specifically them? Who was he anyways? And how did he get next to her all of the sudden? People were forming around the man, listening to the names he called out. He mentioned an oil painting behind him. Immediately she searched for it, and her eyes fell on the painting. It had all these people and all their names on them. There was a Svefra, the man with the peacock mask, a readheared girl, the dark skinned woman she had seen before, and even the man in front of her, Brandon and she herself. For some or other reason she could easily connect their names with their appearances.

The cat put her legs under her body and crawled out from underneath the table. It was no fun to be there. With a quick glance on the clock, she stated it was almost midnight. The party was almost over. Thinking back about the offer of the man, she realised he was still waiting for an answer. Would Bran be mad of she would dance with him? A look in his direction already gave her the answer. He was still very busy and would probably not even know she would. But on the other hand, she still felt annoyed and a bit sad."I don't know. Thank you for your offer, but I don't like parties."She sighed and then thought again. She shouldn't let someone else's problems bother her. She could have fun. It was just a dream, coming towards its end. "But since this is almost over and my former dance partner is still over there, I'd love to."

x

[Quint Caravel]

He smiled at her. "Good! That's great! What is a Masquerade Ball without a dance? And what's a dance with a most fetching and enchanting companion?"

They waited for the next song to start. Quint took that opportunity to speak to her. While he spoke he pulled a ball of blue yarn out of his pocket and ran it around his fingers like a Cat's Cradle. "You know, Engghaen, you remind me of my cousin. Well, she was always more like a sister to me than a cousin; her mother and my mother were not just sisters but they were best friends who spent most of their time together, so my cousin and I grew up like brother and sister."

Careful not to upset his bit of string art, he rubbed his chin for a moment with his wrist, remembering back to his youth. "Anyway, my cousin was friends with this man Turnir, and I'm sorry to say that I think she liked him more than he liked her. They would go to parties, and he would ditch her and go hang out with his pals instead of spending any time with her. It made her feel miserable."

He shook his head sadly. The yarn slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor by Engghaen's feet. "I never could convince her that it was just the one guy, Turnir and that most men weren't like that. I never could convince her that his problems weren't about her, and that she shouldn't take his garbage personally."

Quint looked down at the ballroom floor, but he did not see where his yarn went. "I totally failed to get through to her, and so she ended up becoming a bit paranoid and over-sensitive. And that made her fail to realize that most people actually liked her, and that she should avoid the one or two people who didn't, like Turnir. Okay, actually that part is nothing like you, Engghaen. I think you simply have her same shining blue eye color and hair color and that's what made me think of her."

It was clear that Quint just was thinking about his family and wanted to get this memory off his chest; he blamed himself for the mess his cousin had made of her life. "Thanks for listening, Engghaen. I always appreciate when a sweet and pretty girl listens to me. I guess I just have a lot on my mind, right now. Anyway, let's dance!"

The music changed to a Syliran dance for Knights and their Ladies called 'Help is on the way!'

Quint led Engghaen to the center of the dance floor where the spotlight was. "Let's not worry about anyone else right now. I've got a chance to enjoy the company of the cutest and most interesting person in this entire ballroom right here, and that's all that matters."

He assured her that he had been watching her that evening, and had seen it all, the problem with Brandon, changing from the robe to the dress, crying on Roderick's shoulder and her decision to end up under the table. "You are truly fascinating, Engghaen. You've added a unique touch to this evening. I will always remember it."

[Engghaen]

Why would he take a ball of yarn and play with it? It was something she would do and not Quint... Remarkable was that it was blue. Not just any colour, no, it was blue. A smile slowly spread itself over her face while he started to talk. The cat had absolutely no idea why he would tell her about hs cousin. She didn't have any brothers or sisters. She knew she did have two cousins, but she had never met them. They should be about her age.

That's mean of him. I think I wouldn't do that. Or at least, not love that guy. Unless I would be very unrealistic. Or... No. I would really have to love him for that.

"I understand. It's okay. You just.. remembered her." The cat bent down and grabbed the ball of blue yarn for him. Then she handed it over. She did have the slight intention to start playing with it, but that would be very awkward towards everyone else.

He lead her to the dancefloor and she followed him carefully. Before, his compliments did not do much to her, but now they made her blush. "I don't really think I'm the most interesting person here, I-... But thanks anyway. I didn't really have fun. But I think that is changeable, isn't it, in the mere moments this ball lasts?"

x

[Quint Caravel]

Quint listened carefully to Engghaen, then he slowly nodded. "Yes. A young Pycon once taught me that everything is changeable. Everything. Life. How we look at it. Ourselves. Each other. All of it."

He looked wistfully off to one side, where the little Kelvic man was now dancing with the woman who wore beads and feathers. The woman smiled but it did not reach her eyes and the short man had the flicker of a frown on his face when he thought no one was looking. Quint sighed as he contemplated the pair, and he told Engghaen this: "The sad thing is-- and this is really the saddest thing, though some people need to become ghosts and Nuits and whatever before they realize this-- is that even though we're constantly changing, some people would rather cling to an idea, be that an opinion of themselves or someone they intensely like or dislike, and would rather hate and wage war in the name of that idea instead of being happy with the perfectly good current reality that they have."

Suddenly Quint smiled at Engghaen, and he placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "But the thing that I like about you, the really special thing about you is that you are not one of those people, Engghaen. You are capable of lunging for the one spot of good and giving yourself a chance at having a good time, no matter what else is going on."

He spun her around a bit, in time with music. "Also, you have a really athletic grace to you when you move. You make a terrible dancer like me look good in comparison. And you have very pretty eyes. Yes, you definitely do. And on the Suvan Sea I have seen many blue eyes, but none compare. And..."

Quint paused for a moment, trying to find the words to convey his genuine excitement. "And Engghaen, more important than all of that stuff I said earlier, (except about the eyes), much more important than any of that stuff about life and people and whatever, you have given me personally a rare and special gift: this moment of dancing with an astonishing and unique person. Which was the whole point of throwing a Masquerade Ball, after all: the dancing."

And then for several bells and chimes, he didn't say anything at all; he just enjoyed the dance and Engghaen's company.

[Tessa Bane]

Clear, white lights, bouncing around, lights, lights. Thats all there was. Reaching out for the lights, she realized she couldn't see her hand, she couldn't see anything, really.. Nothing at all.
Gasping, Tessa bolted upright in bed.
Wait a minute... This isn't my bed.
Suddenly a wave of noise erupted around her, laughter, music, people chatting and yelling, even several animal sounds could be heard.
Blinking her eyes, Tessa looked around. There was so many people here!
Wait.. Where is here?
Standing up, the petite Kelvic girl realized she was wearing the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was a bright yellow, lined with fur at the trim at neckline. Subconsciously reaching up to touch her face, Tessa realized she was wearing a mask.
Why am I wearing a mask?
Slipping it off for a moment, she glared at the dainty thing like it was the mask's fault she had been dragged into some sort of.. Place.
Tessa wanted to throw the mask on the ground, but couldn't quite bring herself to do so. It was a beautiful thing meant to cover only half of her face, and it seemed as if it was shaped in the form of..
What was that? A cat..?
A Bobcat. Thats what it was. A golden bobcat mask for a golden bobcat girl. Laughing, Tessa put the mask back on. Wherever this place was, she was beginning to like it.
As she brushed off her dress, Tessa began to explore the ballroom. There seemed to be every race here, Human, Kelvic, Inarta, Svefra, even..
Zith.
A man, clearly Zith, sashayed past Tessa, unaware of the daggers being mentally shot towards him.
Tessa barely stopped herself from attacking the bat-winged man. Why were they here?
Again, where was here? When was here? Why am I here?
Tessa forced herself to look away from the man. He didn't seem to be causing any trouble, but if any Zith creature took so much as a step towards her, she swore to herself she would claw his eyes out. Bobcat form or not.
Composing herself and gingerly taking a step forward, Tessa observed her surroundings again. One couple grabbed her attention, it was a pair of dancers heading towards the dance floor. The girl was elaborately dressed, and seemed to be at peace here, wherever here was.
There was something about the girl, something familiar...
She's a cat.
The realization came to Tessa in a jolt, it was surprising how easily she had recognized the other girl as a Kelvic, never mind what specific animal. She wanted to run over and introduce herself, but decided against it.
The girl and the man she was dancing with seemed too into the moment to pay attention to anyone else, and besides, Tessa didn't want to interrupt.
Sighing, the bobcat girl slid down into a nearby chair and waited for the couple to stop dancing, for the song to be over, and for Tessa to ask some questions.
She had to figure out who that girl was.

[Wrenmae]

In the flow of combat, time itself seemed to slow to a crawl. They existed in their own bubble. Indeed, the dream seemed to accommodate their bout. Time moved fluidly around them, but within the eye of their storm they were their own motion and energy.

The thief charged him, drawing his fist back as if he intended to bring his knuckles into Wren's face and past it, leaving a quivering body in its wake. Someone shouted something, there were guards in the area.

In most situations, Wren may have considered cutting his losses and simply bowing out. Certainly it wouldn't be hard to lose his opponent in the swirl of colored outfits and dresses. But even as the armed guards entered, even as the bearded man retrieved Wren's dagger and slid it into his own belt before telling them to stop, Wren knew well enough that there would be no give from the thief, no parlay, no mercy.

Not that he expected any, although throwing their collective lives away for nothing more than sundry revenge spoke volumes about the man divided.

Wren's eyes flicked to the fellow who told them to stop, a momentary grave refusal. His opponent showed no signs of slowing, and neither could he.

Combat was a language unto itself and Brandon...the thief...he had refused to close the dialogue.

So Wrenmae had to answer.

Inexperienced, Brandon swung high and Wren ducked low, letting the fist pass harmlessly over him. He stood into the thief, bringing his claws up and through the outfit he wore, rupturing skin and organs with five needling points and turning as he did so, using Brandon's momentum to skewer himself on the claws and then continue, sliding them out and rolling away from the falling thief.

The thief crashed to the ground, and Wren swung to his feet, his fingers already twitching back into fingers as black claws gave way to pink skin and nails. It was somehow easier than it would have been normally, Wren used no Djed to make the changes...simply thought them, knew he could do it, and watched them change.

A dream. It was all a dream.

He held up both hands to the guards, stepping towards Roderick with a frown,

"My opponent showed no quarter, I felt it wise not to forgo my right to self-defense. You won't begrudge me that, will you? Of all my opponents, he deserved his fate the most. How many did he steal the life from with his thieving hands?"

He dropped his hands to his side.

"Do we really want to make this any more bloody than it has been already?"

[Celeste Arumen]

Celeste nodded gravely. ”I’m sure you’re right.” Thinking back, her memory was totally blank. Perhaps Anna could remember lying down, but for her there was nothing. She’d been so tired that she’d fallen asleep the second her head hit the matt. ”I sincerely doubt that,” she added with a fey smile. ”But there is one way to test the theory. When we wake up, we go and find one another. You’re just a hallway away, after all.”

She knew they would remember some of what was said, but perhaps not all of it. ”I’ve never had a dream so vivid,” she said. ”Something tells me that we’re not in the mind of one another, but in someone else’s altogether. Why else would Wrenmae be here and further, a Chaon?” She puzzled this over. It seemed Annalisa was close behind, too; both women sat, entrenched in thought, oblivious to the melee in the middle of the floor.

”None,” she said in horror, one hand reaching up to touch her hair. ”In fact… I shouldn’t have been able to change it at all.” A faint blush crept over her cheeks. ”You see, I’d overgiven early in the season. When you overgive in morphing, your body gets stuck. It isn’t like reimancy, where you’re bleeding energy. Morphing is the practice of actually altering your djed, molding it and then working to maintain the shape. But the better you get, the less elastic your soul becomes. Your djed can forget what it was. So you might say, I forgot my hair color,” she said, grinning sheepishly.

With a single thought, her hair shifted back to the deep auburn it’d been. ”It seems we have the power to manipulate the reality of the dream. Here, try casting something.” It was clear they could affect themselves, but what of the reality outside that? Was that exclusive to the person hosting the dream?

”This has certainly shaped up interestingly,” she said with a light laugh.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The peacock dodged his blows, not once but twice. The bat curled up his upper lip in frustration. Not that he had expected to land a hit though. The man was too fast, too agile and too experienced for the bat. He wasn’t a match for him really. This was an unfair battle, one he could not win, sadly. But that wasn’t the plan. He had one shot. While he had been charging, he had been mentally preparing him for the pain that was to come. No-one could have prepared him for what he was going through right now though.

Sharp black claws pierced his body, ripping through his clothes with ease. The speed the thief had gained by running to the man was now forcing the claws deeper and deeper in his chest. The feeling was not even close to what he had imagined it to be. The feeling of the five black pointy extensions of the peacock’s fingertips penetrating through his skin, and making holes in his flesh was something extremely painful. It didn’t help that his internal organs got hit too. Blood flowered over his chest, staining his grey shirt with a smudge of dark. It felt warm.

He almost lost himself in the pain the wounds caused. The man’s claws still sticking in his chest, he knew he had little time left. Time slowed down just for him. The retracting movement of the nails reminded him of his plan. He had already known he would not survive. This had been a suicide action after all. Though, he had kept a tiny spark of hope, nurtured in the center of his heart. It had died now. This was why he was a bit surprised and all of a sudden he wanted to use his remaining strength to struggle to stay alive.

He reminded himself he could not. He needed his last bit of energy left in him to get his revenge, and he would. Although he hadn’t been able to land a single hit, he had made sure his hand was next to the man’s head, at the same height. He had bet his life on this. He was going to succeed, no matter what happened to him. His impaled body was the proof of it. The claws were coming back out his chest. The bat’s eyes widened. He didn’t have more time to waste anymore. He never had in the first place. Drawing back his arm, his fingers grappled the edge of the peacock mask. A feint grin played over his lips when he tightened his grip.

Pulling with all his might, all had left, he disconnected the mask from the man’s face. The guy, now having slipped his claws out of his wounds, did not seem to notice. The thief slid one finger through the opening for the right eye. I claim this mask as mine… His hopes, his plan were based on one single feature his actions had had shown him tonight. People petrified when he stole something from them. If it was only tonight, he didn’t know. It didn’t seem to have an immediate effect on the former peacock masked man though. Why? Wasn’t it valuable enough? But it had to be! The thing was excellently crafted, and it was a tool used to dissolve one’s identity. That made it valuable, didn’t it? Or maybe it was because the man hadn’t noticed yet. His other victims had been startled and then turned to stone when they had realized what had happened. Yes, this had to be the reason. It had to be. He couldn’t have failed. He couldn’t.

The thief barely noticed he slammed into the floor, a red puddle growing in size rapidly around him. His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on things for long. Dark orbs darting back and forth, unfocussed, he could just make out the peacock talking to the man that had called out to him just moments ago. The mask clattered down, right next to him, painting itself partially crimson. His last exhale of breath was more of a choking sound, but only barely audible. I wish I could have danced longer with Enggy…

WrenWhat happens next to Wren is all up to you, it has always been, but you know. The choice to turn him into stone is up to you (obviously). And I’d like to thank you for giving me some of your time I had a blast.

x