Quest [Seasonal Quest] The Masquerade

[Poison]

Fall 57, 513 AV

Fall had arrived in Kalea. Above Kalinor, the city of the Symenestra, it had become considerably cooller. The trees had lost most of their leaves, the grass on the ground was brown and dry, and soon the first snow would begin to fall. Before too long it would become impossible for even the Symenestra who were skilled climbers to navigate the rocks that surrounded their home. Fortunately the storage rooms of Kalinor were well filled so that nobody would have to go hungry, and most of the Harvesters had returned, bringing women that would ensure the continued existence of their race with them.

Normally the return of the Harvesters would be celebrated with a feast, and the surrogates would be made to compete in beauty contests to choose the most beautiful of them, but this time the Harvest Festival was so much more. Silenva Hyacinth, the Sweet Poison, the daughter of the ruling couple had persuaded her parents to hold a masquerade in the Gathering Hall, an event that would be talked about for seasons to come.

The ropes that led to the gathering hall were decorated with glowing gems that day, and the walls of the building were wrapped in colourful, shimmering silk. Inside all the usual furniture had been removed – although the tapestries that had been made for the weaving contests of previous years were still there. Here silk covered the walls as well and garlands went from one side to the opposite one, all across the hall, so that one had the impression of being in a gigantic, colourful spiderweb. Tables full of delicious food had been placed against the walls, and in the very center of the Gathering Hall a band of musicians played a melody that was as eerily beautiful as the Symenestra themselves.

Everybody was there. The ruling couple, Nessora and Avadon Hyacinth, had come with their daughter Silenva. Alessa and Avarys Anthurium of the Weft and Warp and Kanasa Curare of the Cobweb had decided to mingle with the other guests. Even Vass Vervein, the head of the Ochya who usually wasn’t very interested in social events and Daratur Violet, the priest of Viratas were somewhere. But where? Who was who? Everybody was wearing a mask and extravagant costumes that day.

OOC: The best costume will receive a reward. Please post the descriptions of your costumes in the costume submission thread.

[Vetari Violet]

Despite the confusion and excitement of the past few days, Vetari had made an effort to attend the festivities. Many days before he had gone to the weavers, picking patterns and colored almost at random until he discovered an array that would do for his design. His costume was strange, it's sheer lack of color putting it apart from the others. The cloth he wore was smokey grey, with designs like droplets of ink in water dancing along the fringes. From his shoulders sprouted two great clusters of white crescent mushrooms, and though they were not real they appeared to be so and ended up being his first topic of conversation among many of the guests. Across his face he wore a mask the color of bleached bone, form fit to bend at his cheek bones but possessing no expressive features. It came to a point far below where his chin should be and shot up in a pair of thorn-like antlers. Curving backwards from the edge of the mask was a mane of ravens feathers, making him seem somewhat larger than he really was but not restricting the flow of his cobweb colored hair about his shoulders. He was easy to pick out of the crowd, an eerie greyscale spirit in an ocean of colorful silk. He did not mind being so different, though. He had chosen his colors on purpose, hopeing to catch eyes and be whispered about for days, making people guess who would choose such oddly provocative garb. To those who had asked who he was or who he was supposed to be, he had sculpted his answer based upon their costumes and the tone of their voice. To some, he had joked that he was portraying the soul of the Esterians, nodding to the mushrooms upon his shoulders and made further quips about decay. To some of the younger children he had remarked that he was the spirit of the cave, the Soul that Lives Below. To most he had said he was simply turned inside out, and that this was the essence of the Symenestra. No matter who he spoke to, he was poem given form. Now Vetari sat at the edge of the party near the feasting table, occasionally slipping a small piece of fruit beneath his mask. He watched the crowd, playing a guessing game and making up stories of the people in silks. Tonight was a night of odd opportunity, for when people donned masks it was so easy to toss away the mask you showed the world in the day-to-day. All at once everybody was themselves and nobody, setting their souls free behind the silken armor that was their disguises. Vetari could not wait to see the true colors of the people behind the dyed silks. Tonight the air was full of potential, and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

[Laute]

To be honest, Laute had only come for the food. It was the smell that lured him in, despite the noise and bright lights that decorated the hall. At least the silk hangings softened the light and noise, and while unpleasant, it wasn't uncomfortable. Either way, he wasn't planning on staying for too long. The reasons behind the festivites didn't interest him much, nor the people.

The only thing that made him growl with displeasure was the mask affixed to his face, the simple white covering his upper face. It was a bit loose on his features, not quite fitting him perfectly. Just enough that it would stay on for the night's activities. When he had arrived, his wings draped around his body simply so it appeared he only had a cloak on, there had been a light fuss about letting him.

It was a Masquerade, he was told. He had to be in disguise.

Laute snorted at the thought. Like his own appearance wouldn't give him away, no matter what he wore. A Zith in a mass of Symenestra was noticeable no matter what he wore. Especially with his height.

Still, they insisted. A mask at least. Play along.

The masks made no sense for him: his sense of smell, though not as keen as some beasts, would have been able to tell apart the Symenestra he knew from those he didn't. Still, they had insisted, and he had picked the first mask he could find that didn't squeeze his head.

Staring at those around him, the masks made a little more sense now. The cloying smell of perfumes hung in the air, masking most scents as they clashed with one another. Elaborate gowns and costumes were worn by all, each more outlandish than the last in an attempt to be the best dressed. There was something attractive about this competition, something that stirred his interest. How did they make some of these clothes? How long ago do they plan it? Seeing a mask with large peacock feathers covering the fringes, he was half tempted to reach forward and touch one of the soft feathers.

Maybe later he could walk through the hall, just to stare at these outfits. The scent of food wafted to his nose and Laute was reminded of his original purpose.

Ignoring the milling crowds, Laute strode casually to the carefully laid out table. The colours were once more bright and festive, matching the mood around him. The gems around him sparkled and he watched the few Symenestra who were eating, noting how they maneuvered through the tables, before imitating them.

He wouldn't want to be kicked out before he had a chance to try a Symenestra meal.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae can hardly mask his excitment as he scuttles across the intricate silk streets of Kalinor, headed straight for the Bat's head. He had recieved a message earlier, stating that his special order for Night leather was complete, and he could not wait to pick it up. He had even gone through the extra effort of asking Seivis to weave him a new scarf, a deep shade of midnight blue, which now was wrapped loosely around his neck. Today, he wore neither leather, or exoskeletal armor, but only a black silk shirt and thin dark brown leather pants.

The reason for the armor was owed simply to his inability to sleep and desire for adventure. The faster winter approached, the more restless his nights had grown, the more bored he became. He would just lay in the empty home of his family, thinking of the woman, and the lake, and listen to theterrors that prowl the tunnel below. They would rumble and make strange clicking sounds he didn't understand. Moaning and such, all picked up with keener than usual hunter senses, although he knew some of the sounds were left over from his nightmares. His teeth would chatter, skin would crawl, and before long he decided he had to get out more. Take his mind off things. Perhaps meet a few new people.

The Masquerade seemed like a perfect oppertunity to meet new people, but he couldn't go in this old worn white leather. On the other hand, he refused to spend Miza on a costume, so he chose a middle ground. New, fine leather that he could use for night hunts would do nicely.

He Half sprinted past the Sickle and Arrow, and grinned as the air grew thick with moisture and the musk of tanning hides. He scaled the side of the Bat's Head gracefully and spiraled down the lone silk thread dangling in the front room.

Trekilyn emerged from the thin whispy silk curtain with a wide grin splayed on his face, approaching Viridae and grasping the back of his neck, and pulling it towards him quickly, headbutting him softly before chuckling hardily. Viridae rubbed his temple with three clawed fingers, laughing lightly.

"You're very cheery today, Dovnalyn," He says in a light tone. Trekilyn grins at him.

"With good reason, Versdadae. This armor is the finest work I've done all season."

"Well lets see it," Viridae says with a grin. Trekilyn nods and leaves the room, returning with a bundle of black leather. He unfolds it and lays it across the counter. Viridae leans in for a closer look and can't help the gasp that escapes his thin lips.

The chest plate is black and thick, two seperate pads that curved softly into intricately crafted ab plates. The linings of each leather plate was lined with slightly reflective transparent wire that could only be spidersilk. The left arm had two plates sewen lightly to the armor, to cover the upper arm and forearm. The right side however had a half neck guard, thick wolf skull that he had traded another trader Venison for which served as a shoulder plate, and a thin leather hood, lined at the opening with sharp wolf teeth from the jaw of the very same wolf. The armor's ab plates slanted into hip covers, and around the armor's waist hung a midnight blue silk sash.

"Its incredible," He said to Trekilyn. He pulled a coin purse, and carefully counted out ninety five GM and handed them to Trekilyn, who smiled and stuck the coins into his pocket. "I added a little tip for the craftmenship," He said before respectfully bowing his head and scurrying back up the silken rope, overcome with excitement. This was the finest leather he had ever bought, easily.

Upon returning home, Viridae changed into a pair of black leather pants, his black silk shirt, pulled the armor over his head, and strapped on his bow, before wrapping the scarf he recieved from Seivis around his neck. He examined the reflection of himself in the center of the pool in the ceter of his home before braiding back his bangs and giving himself a toothy grin. The new armor was a vast improvement.

The finishing touch was a ceramic mask, embued with blue sparrow hawk feathers, and a small yellow beak that covered his nose. He set off for the gathering hall, excited for what the night would hold.

The packed party had made him begin to sweat as Viridae made his way through the crowd, in search of something sweet to drink. After a while, he gave up and leaned against a wall drapped in thick silk, unsure if the sweat was due to heat, or social anxiety. There he stood for a great while, staring out at the crowd in an attempt to maintain his composure.

OOC: Please excuse the stupidity of this post, its been re purposed twice

Here is a little bit of the armor, with the exception of the sash scarf and wolf bones

Secret :

[Scorn]

Scorn and Scourge did not enter the Hall by way of ropes. The were Zith, and they glided into the room, landing in practiced tandem in the middle of everything, earning more that a few admiring and possibly nervous glances from the party goers. Scourge's dress was of a simple, flowing shape, the spring emerald color brightening her midnight-hued fur. She wore a feathered mask of a similar color, bright peacock feathers appearing to sprout from her face. Scorn's costume was slightly more elaborate. Her dress, if one could call it that, was a brilliant scarlet against her slate-grey fur. It covered only the bare minimum required for the Symenestra's inscrutable modesty, and was well-accented by the tufts of long red fur at her elbows and knees. On her face, instead of a traditional mask, she wore the upper half of a cougar skull, dyed a dark brown with real blood! Above this, somehow, a gnarled horn protruded from her head. The band keeping it attached to her forehead was hidden under her deep blue hair. But her wings were the truly impressive piece. A light tapestry was hung across the back of each one, with the effect that, when she spread her wings, anyone behind her was greeted with the impression that a large and angry monster was glaring at them. Scourge quickly settled into a pattern of observing the party-goers, so that she could imitate and blend in, but Scorn was bored with that plan. She instead followed her nose, catching the mildly interesting scent of things that might be edible, and the vastly more intriguing scent of familiar male Zith. Holding her wings spread so that Symenestra has to skitter out of her way like ants, she crossed the space to him. She followed him around the tables, picking up a morsel or two along the way in the hopes that they might be edible. She caught up to him before she could actually try them though. With a sultry smile emerging under her skull-mask, she whispered his name in their language. "Laute."

[Vyvian]

No one specifically saw Vyvian enter the ball, but he was there, sipping on some Symenestran liquified food, he didn't care what, as if he was some timeless spirit, who had been there all along.

His outfit helped the image immensley. He was covered in tight, dark leather from head to foot, wearing a perfectly polished overcoat, only usually needed in the wilderness up north, but nevertheless being worn now. The left breast of his jacket had a large flower made from silk obviously, a real flower would never make it down to Kalinor, which was blood scarlet, the only dash of colour on the entire suit. It was nearly blinding in contrast.

His mask was possibly the most unnerving part of all, a wicked smile was all that adorned the mask, under a wide brimmed hat that concealed the eyes.

Vyvian loved his disguise so much. No longer did he feel watched, observed, hunted. Now he was the observer, the one in control. As long as he scared everyone, he would be in control.

Accordingly his posture and gait had changed to suit the mask. He leant against the wall, arms crossed, his sickening smile keeping people away from him. The further added bonus was that he could watch the sickening dregs of society interact and not have to be part of the social folly.

This would be an interesting day.

[Sosicly Magnolia]

The idea had come from the summer traders and their talks of giant birds. Though she had not been able to see one, she had seen some of the paintings they had at the stall, and the small glass figurines. And since the announcing of the Masquerade the idea of a feathers had taken root, and so the painstaking gathering of materials, asking of help and general mayhem has begun. The mask itself had been the simplest. A simple order of a leather masquerade mask, fitted to go upwards from the tips of her cheek and nose. Then she herself had covered it with the crown of gold, and yellow feathers that adorned it, stiffened and spiraling high above her head in a parody of a cockatiel. The dress had been harder. A deep gold silk, it was crafted and cut into an elegant sleeveless gown, with small pieces of near invisible silk hanging from the front. The bodice was smallm using colorful embroidery to color it like the V of a bird’s breast. And below it, overlaying the silk, were false gold and yellow feathers covering nearly every inch of the dress, and splashing over her bare simple golden silk slippers. Finally was the shawl, larger than most with silk and false feathers to match the dress both on the inside and outside of the shawl. At the end of each corner of the shawl were small silken loops to slid over ones middle fingers. And at the top edge were fine, nearly invisible silk threads to tie with those on the dresses bodice, holding it firmly in place. Sosicly spread her arms, enjoying the way her shadow copied her and created an arms length pair of wings. Pleased with herself the young woman finally stepped outside, for once forgoing her knapsack, and swinging away towards the Gathering Hall. ---- Upon entering the Gathering Hall lite up like never before. Intricate webs of silk danced across the walls in every color imaginable. The smell of food, and sweets ripe for the taking curled around her like smoke. The music rang out from the center of the hall in accordance with the guest who danced, in the air or not, and gave a wonderful lull in-between quiet chatter of the rest. Yet better still than the all the finery showcased in the hall were the people of Kalinor that decorated it with their costumes. All shapes, sizes, and colors imaginable tailored to fit each person, with masks covering all the faces both simple and elaborate. It was impossible to tell who was who or even what in some cases but Sosicly clapped her hands in delight all the same, and swept into the room with everyone else. Ready to do a full circuit of the room but eyeing the table of sweet delights. She detoured and mused that the only downside was someone was bound to figure her out, notebook or no. It would be hard to make conversation if one could not actually make conversation. All the same she wondered how long it would take them, and if she would recognize anyone. But before she even began her circuit she noted someone in costume with...mushrooms? Sosicly tapped the person shoulder and gestured curiously at the costume.

OOC :

The dress is similiar just think color bodice, and ya know, a shawl.

[Vyvian]

Vyvian watched Scorn carefully, noting her complete lack of care for those around her. Almost like his really, except she did it to intimidate, not protect herself. Pursing his lips he thought to himself about the time he'd spent with her so far. Suddenly, Vyvian cocked his head at a young girl who walked past. She was... different. It wasn't the costume that marked her out.. it was.. He frowned trying to understand what he sensed.

Finally he understood, her mouth was on display yet she clearly never moved a muscle of it. Turning slowly to look at the other guests, he could see they uttered "Hello's" and other pointless pleasantries as they passed each other. Yet this girl didn't.

He smiled to himself, half blankly. Looked like he wasn't the only outcast here then. picking up his hat off the floor smoothly he approached her from behind, not noticing the wide berth the crowd seemed to give him. She seemed to be talking.. well.. communicating with someone else right now, so he stood behind her and waited patiently, watching her carefully through his mask. He felt some strange emotion inside him... was it empathy?

Yet she seemed happy and accepted.. Vyvian sighed to himself and slouched a little, half turning back in indecision. Completely out of character to his costume he traipsed back to the wall he was leaning against and slid down it, depressed.

[Vetari Violet]

Vetari felt someone tap him on the shoulder, turning to see a beautiful woman in such finery that it made his mask look bulky and his clothing overly complex. She motioned to his costume, which embarrassed him further, though one could not tell behind the mask he wore. She seemed inquisitive, yet didn’t say a word, which caught Vetari off guard. He wondered what he was supposed to say. “Err…the mushrooms?” he asked, slipping a smile into his tone. “They were my own design. The weavers worked on them for days, or so they told me. I made it worth their while, though. Wouldn’t want to make life too difficult for those poor students. They are still learning after all.” He shook his head. “Pardon my manners; you look very beautiful this evening. Stunning, to say the very least.” She was elegant, poised, and full of life. Her costume, covered in feathery motifs, made her seem diminutive and birdlike, but accented her body in a most delightful way. She was a pleasure to set eyes upon, but the attraction was not for sexual appeal but for the true art of her entire being. She was her visage, and he dared to imagine any number of people she could have been.

[Viridae Kabre]

Recovering from the minor panic attack left Viridae drained, dehydrated, and with that very familiar empty feeling he had experienced at the begining of the fall. He closed his eyes tight and stood up straight, focusing on the situation at hand. The party. The Symenestra. The food....The food!

Scents swarmed his brain like a hive of angry bees and his stomache growled with anger. Although he had not lost any weight, The slight color his skin had gained from exposure to the surface was lost, signifying he had not been eating enough recently. He stepped through the crowd, scanning the intricate costumes that danced around him. Although he did not look as formal as the others, the new armor bore an air of pride and simple beauty, a hint to what his life's passion was, his favorite animal to snare, and his defect, clinging to his mind as the skull and teeth clung to the costume. These thoughts made him feel a bit better.

As he arrived at the table and picked up an oddly shapped glass full of thick and meaty smelling liquid, a glimmer of fur caught his eye. He squinted and moved foreward through the crowd until what he could not mistake for anything but a couple Zith standing in quiet conversation. He recognized one as Laute, for he had hunted with him once. The other was a bit shorter, but distinctly feminine, curvy frame, bright red dress, and something hangin from her wings....a picture? He stared curiously for a moment before taking a few steps closer, straining to think of something to say. To be honest, he did not know Laute very well, and while he isn't shy, Viridae had never been extreamly outgoing. To make things more difficult, communication with a Zith was harder than breaking the language barrier with a goldfish. They seemed to somehow make him feel like an outsider. He continued to watch them before coragiously taking a step foreward, just to stumble and send his drink flying across the room.