The Masquerade Ball (Open to ALL)

[Brandon Blackwing]

The bat lifted an eyebrow at her statement. “Thank you.” he answered simply. Graciously striding around the dance floor, they passed a huge mirror. It was a masterpiece. A wooden frame covered the edges of it, carved with images of waves, various animals and people of different races. He could make out the shape of a woman with multiple arms and a man riding an eagle. Wow, that’s what I’d call an awesome mirror. Curious the bat lead his partner to it, slowly reaching the huge thing. Golden letters appeared on its surface. ‘One light touch’ it read. He bat frowned underneath his mask. Steering them closer, he made Engghaen do another spin while reaching out to the mirror with his right hand. He couldn't help it,it was as if the looking glass drawed his hand closer to it. The moment his fingers touched the reflecting surface, a ripple came forth, swaying across the mirror’s surface as if it was made of water. Nothing else seemed to happen. Slightly disappointed the bat wrapped his arm back around his dance partner’s small waist and strode off, gliding over the floor as if he was wearing ice skates. Because of that, he didn’t notice the mirror was getting milky in color. Suddenly, a foot appeared, coming through the mirror was a man dressed in dark gray. A black cloak draped over his shoulders, a scarf of the same color wrapped around his neck, hiding the bottom side of the man’s face. The hood extending from the cape was pulled over his shoulder, casting a dark shadow over the upper side of his face. His feet were covered with normal boots, a dark gray pants clothed his legs and lower body. A belt with a few pouches, a hammer and a wedge decorated his hips. He didn’t move at all, but suddenly he was standing in the middle of the room. Although there was no wind, the cloak of the man fluttered as if it was lifted slightly upwards by a summer breeze. If one looked at his face, his gaze could be felt. His jet black eyes seemed to follow your every move, looking at you with an imminent stare. Long gray locks could be seen, sticking out from under the hood. An aura of mystery surrounded this man, who kept silent and didn’t move a muscle. He was not alone though. The mirror cracked and another man appeared. Like the previous one coming from the looking glass, this one was also wearing gray clothing, a black cloak and a black scarf. This time, his face was openly displayed, his hood was hanging on his back and the scarf only covered his neck. A goatee ornamented his chin. The hair of this man was dark gray in color, long and messy. His eyes were very dark, black if you will. A huge grin was painted on his face, and a cheerful sparkle glittered in his dark orbs. Unlike the previous person coming from the mirror, this one did move. He looked around the room, saw a group of people gathered around the host and headed their way. It wasn’t over just yet. Now, the mirror broke down in uncountable small fractions of its former self, whirling down like silver snow. The frame remained, an empty wooden sculpture with a rectangular hole in the middle. The dust, now sprayed out on the floor, started swirling around. Slowly at first, but gaining in speed fast. Suddenly, it lifted from the floor, forming a cyclone gyrating in place. Then all of a sudden, it died down. The tiny shards of silver vanished into thin air and where the cyclone had been, another man was standing. Just like the other two, he was clad in dark gray with a black scarf and cape. Like the first one, his face was hidden behind his scarf and hood. His eyes scanned the roof and rested on a woman’s necklace. The thing looked quite expensive, a gold chain with big pearls imbedded in it on regular intervals. His hand shot out, pulling it from her neck, leaving a red mark behind. The woman turned pale, and stiffened. All color disappeared from her figure and clothes, until nothing but a while statue remained. The man produced a large sack from his belt, placing the necklace in it. Holding the sack with his left, he continued stealing with his right, snatching valuables from whoever crossed his path’s person, creating more statues in the process.

[Wrenmae]

The chaos that engulfed the ballroom was transcendent. Mere moments after the three figures had shown themselves among the crowd, the people reacted. The first statue, marble and frozen in a pose of mild surprise, was the harbinger of the madness that leaped from figure to figure.

Wren remained quietly in the background, carefully watching the figures. He didn't need to turn to see that the doors and windows would not allow anyone to leave. This was all a very well orchestrated trap, and he wasn't so sure his hosts had actually done it.

People pushed a wide gait around the thieving man with petrified powers, and those dressed similarly were equally avoided. Slowly the room transformed into zones and pockets of those who weren't sure what was happening, leaving wide swaths of areas where the other men were.

The killer assumed that he would still have to choose among the living who to slay...and his eyes admittedly followed the individual who'd loosed the plague on the dance floor, the only one who had paused in front of the mirror and reached out to touch it since Wren had entered the ballroom.

For now, however, he stayed out of the way of those individuals released from the depths of the mirror.

It would be more interesting, he felt, to watch what the others would do.

[Annalisa Marin]

What Amaryllis wanted, Amaryllis got. It was the simply rule that Anna had come to learn in her brief apprenticeship to the Chief Embalmer, a tenet that was obeyed by the Chaon without question. To act otherwise was tantamount to suicide, something the sorceress had no desire to commit. Perhaps others might be so inclined to disobey the Nuit, however Anna was not one of them. Certainly she didn't trust the older woman, but at the moment her allies were few.

The woman sat at a small table tucked off to the side of the encroaching chaos, her grey eyes peeking out from under her mask at the crowd as she searched. It was a gift from Amaryllis, the mask, an ostentatious thing plumed with her own signature peacock feathers. Anna somehow suspected that it might very well alert her quarry to her being here, however the Nuit had insisted upon it. What Amaryllis wanted, Amaryllis got.

Her attire consisted of an emerald and sapphire colored dress, made to match the colors of the feathers. It shimmered slightly every now and then, intricate and fine silk embroidery working its way around the dress as its colors were made to contrast the background of the main dress. Blue contrasted green and visa versa. To one who's eye was attuned to the arcane they might notice familiar patterns in the designs, an elegant order about the embroidery that provided her with adequate protection. The warding glyphs had certainly added to the cost.

Her feet were adorned in fine belted leather sandals, and her skin was free of the dirt and grime of Sahova. Her hair was allowed to fall loosely about her, before this whole event had begun. She looked alive, to be honest she also felt alive. It likely wouldn't last, once she returned to Sahova all of this would be as a distant memory. Idly she played with the bronze ring that circled her right ring finger, its sigil that of two crossing needles. A reminder of where she belonged.

Her attention returned to why she was here. Really, she was here because supposedly so was he. The man who had haunted her waking nightmares for so long, who had managed to escape her grasp once before. Daren Marlow, hypnotist and former pet of Lector Qiao.

Anna couldn't believe she'd let him escape once before, the snake had slipped through her fingers just before the final blow was about to be dealt. She could have let it go, he'd left Sahova in a hurry and was likely no threat to her any longer. However, the though of him robbing other innocent women of their memories had tugged at her newly gained sense of some light morals. No, a mad man like that was better off being sent to Dira's embrace. Thanks to Amaryllis efforts she finally had her chance.

He was here, she could feel it. Unfortunately she needed to move cautiously even when she managed to spot him, he knew her dirty little secret and it could very well destroy her here. This wasn't Sahova, there were no allies or backers just her against him. First things first was actually finding him.

Her gaze took in the sights around her, it certainly didn't help that people wore masks here. Daren being the clever snake he was had no doubt actually already encountered her already, suppressing her memory of the event and leaving her cold. Why was he toying with her? What purpose was there in dragging this out?

Then again, mad men needed no justification for their actions.

The brand over her heart flared and feelings of soothing chaos washed over her, however there was something else she found odd. Ever since she had arrived it had been resonating somewhat, trying to move her from the table and in another direction. It felt like whatever it was trying to egg her towards was familiar, almost like a kinship...

There was no time for that, she needed to concentrate on Daren. He was all that mattered, only when he was dead could she truly ever sleep soundly again. Once thoughts of murder had thrilled her, but now there was an emptiness with the thoughts. Daren deserved to die more than any she had ever killed, but oddly enough thoughts of killing him were attributed to mere necessity than pleasure. He needed to die, not she wanted him to die.

This was all Celeste's fault, mucking up her emotions in such a way to make them unclear. Still, she supposed she owed the child much, without her the mark over her heart would have controlled her actions rather than the other way around. Now she was Annalisa the Sorceress, not Annalisa the Chaon. A fine difference, but there all the same.

Again her mark tugged at her and again Anna resisted the urge to follow its direction, she needed to keep vigilant and ready for him to strike. The apprentice raised a glass of golden bubbling liquid to her mouth and slowly sipped at its contents. She allowed her thoughts to shift as she searched, towards this party itself and the host.

The exact memories of how she got here were muggy, unclear. Further proof that Daren was here, watching her and waiting to strike. Why was he here though? Was he finding a new girl to rob of her mind and kill? If so then Anna really needed to act fast, she couldn't permit him to take another life tonight.

The host was a mystery to her, as was the reason for this whole event. The only thing she knew was that she had received an invitation and been allowed entrance. Were they in league with Daren? Did they understand those risks? Perhaps the mystery there would be unraveled as the party continued, for now though she simply watched and waited while ignoring the tugging of her Mark.

[Quint Caravel]

Looking like she did so many years ago, Vankita Caravel stood next to Quint, dressed as usual in the bright colors of the Svefra; but now for the party her dress was that of a Governess from ancient Suva, with a wide hoop skirt and a necklace that alone would break the mint in Sylira. She gave him a hug, smelling of vanilla and cinnamon. "Hello, handsome."

"Hey. I was just thinking about you." He took her soft hand in his own and squeezed tightly.

She favored him with a smile. "This is quite the party, Mr. Caravel. But it does have one flaw."

Quint glanced for a moment at the chaos swirling all around them then turned back to his lost love. "Just one?"

Vankita nodded, her long ginger hair swirling around enough to make any Inarta jealous. "No one has asked me to dance. And I do believe that this is our song."

Quint was a man who considered himself quick on the uptake. "I'm sure one of these nice men would be happy to- owww! You kicked me!"

Pausing just long enough to lean down and rub his shin, Quint grabbed Vankita by the wrist-- just below where she had a tattoo of a stylized key with an open eye peering through the keyhole-- and he led her onto the dance floor.

At first there was a slow waltz, and then the dance changed. The music was now strange to his ears, loud and pulsing, and words were being chanted by a Jamoura dressed in a black robe. It made Quint think of jungles. When the song was over, it was replaced by rousing Inarta music; rhythms that soared and melodies that flew up and down the scales.

In the real world, Quint was a terrible dancer. But here, united with a woman he would never be able to see again, the man from Sunberth found himself for one shining moment the center of the crowd. It seems like everything and everyone froze for a moment, and that there was a light shining just on the dancers.

As they danced, Vankita asked him if he remembered any of the names of the guests and what he had observed of them. They had no secrets together, and so he was frank, telling her how he was impressed by the spider girl and of his jealousy of the young couple his admiration for one guest and his astonishment at another. He pointed out some who acted like they were party crashers and others who strutted around like they owned the place.

Vankita covered his eyes. "Tell me the color of the boots of the man with the blue jacket." He did, and then she asked him to describe the outfit of the barefoot girl kissed by the spider. He did this as well, telling her of the gloves on another or a cape on a man just now entering.

"Why do you ask me of these other people, Vankita? I just want to stay and dance with you."

She gave him a sad smile. "I just wanted to see if you've started noticing anyone else. My time is long since over."

He shook his head vigorously. "How can it be over? We are here together. We have this moment. Let us dance!"

And they did. The orchestra started playing their favorite song-- a Svefra sea-chanty-- and Quint spun Vankita around like their was no tomorrow.

Because he knew deep down that for them, it would never come.

He wanted this moment to last all night long.

But no moment stays frozen. Once again, it seemed like everything and everyone froze for once more, and that there was a light shining just on the dancers.

Vankita looked up at her man. "Don't become a living ghost, Quint. The day of the Djed storm... that was my mistake. You have to let it go. Mizahar is a land of second chances. You have to take yours."

Quint shook his head, a tear sliding down his cheek. "I can't do that."

Vankita nodded. "I'm sorry about this. I'm so sorry. But I can't bear to see you like this. A part of your soul is crazy because you can't let go of that moment when you tried and failed, and now you've wasted years afraid to every try anything again. Forgive me, my love." And she touched him on the forehead, whispering words only he could hear. "Lorem Ipsem! Oblitus Lethe! Lorem Ipsem mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem Ipsem Nysel dolor si Miza! Noli Oblitus Quintonius! Lore Ipsem Obliticis!"

And then they were both gone.

A third time, it seemed like everything and everyone froze for once more, and that there was a light shining just on the dancers. But the light faded along with them. Now everything returned back to normal-- such as it was-- and the rest of the party resumed.

[Celeste Arumen]

The young woman passed through the broad arch into the ballroom, the outline festooned with long swaths of colorful silk. She gaped in astonishment. Everything was quite grand, in a way she’d never known before. The sense of smooth, delicate fabric enticed her fingers and in reply she glanced down to discover a beryl gown, gathered at the waist, translucent fabric trailing from shoulder to wrist, attached by gleaming amethyst cuffs. Celeste giggled, this small sound of delight slicing through the otherwise ambient noise of the party. She’d never been to such a place before. Whoever hosted this must be very rich, she thought with a telltale grin.

Feeling ambitious, she willed her hair to change and felt a thrill as it did so almost on command, rather than waiting for her to grasp at the strands of her djed. It was blue to match her lovely blue dress, which on the whole pleased her. But there was a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right, something she could not quite put her finger on. Still, the little girl was too swept up in the joy of the moment. She was newly fourteen, still a half head below almost all the dancers that occupied the floor and eager to perhaps find the man who held the ball and pay him her regards.

Yet she kept being drawn forward, taken by a strange energy to move across the room to a more remote space. There was a Symenstra dancing for entertainment. Celeste watched as she planted a kiss upon the lips of another woman and her eyes danced away, as if to yield privacy to the suddenly intimate moment. For a brief flash, she imagined what it’d be like to be kissed, too, especially by her - but she shook her head as if to dispel the notion. What on earth had come over her? Celeste couldn’t fathom what kept summoning those thoughts.

Her feet moved of their own accord. She wanted to dance, wanted it like an ache deep within her belly. But there was someone she had to dance with, something she had to do. So Celeste complied, eyes searching through the faceless crowd, only very occasionally stopping to admire a person here or there. The party was so diverse! It astonished her to see a squat, broad Isur chatting lightly with a long, graceful Inarta. There were Konti and Akalak dancing close and strange beings with curving horns that looked to be made of light. She sighed. How beautiful everyone was.

When her feet stopped, she looked up to find herself staring into an altogether too familiar set of stormy grey eyes.

”Hail,” she said lightly, one hand reaching to wave. The woman was dressed in a fine display of blue and green, covered in intricate glyphs. ”I didn’t expect to see you here.” But perhaps her feet did, since they’d insisted she go see her. Yet, Celeste had not a clue what to say. Their last encounter had been under a rather strange circumstance. The young girl doubted Annalisa Marin would ever want to see her again, despite what she’d said.

[Engghaen]

Engghaen let herself lead by Brandon. Then all of the sudden she realised he was giving a certain mirror more attention then her. It was interesting, though, but she couldn't believe he was só interested. Then she spun around and around... And he touched the mirror. What was happening, she could not see clearly. Why he would want to touch that mirror neither. Then a man stepped out of the mirror. He looked like Brandon, but darker. A second appeared, and a third. Then the mirror was gone. The girl looked at them closely. They were... They had goatees, just like Brandon, and scarves and one had the sparkles like he had. She whispered: "Brandon, these are yours. They steal like you. They look like you. One is mysterious, one shy and one has the same sparkles in his eyes as you do." All she did was stop in the chaos. This was nothing for her. This was Brandon's. She knew him and stealing was his thing. Engghaen was only slightly concerned about the people who had turned into statues.

[Ardan]

Ardan's eyes were seemingly forced open as he awoke. He had been leaning against a wall in a room he did not recognize, surrounded by people he did not know. He looked down and saw that his normal, loose clothing had been replaced with an ornate outfit worn only by the rich. Where am I? he thought. A Ball full the rich was generally the last place he wanted to be. Unless, of course, he was there to steal something. However, he was never a guest. He pushed through the crowds, passing men and women all in different, strange outfits. Everyone had a mask, except him. Wait. He reached up and found that he was, in fact, wearing one. He felt the contours of the garment. It was in the shape of a black cat. A panther. What is going on?

[Brandon Blackwing]

Chaos descended on them all. Screaming people, creating more confusion and chaos. Perfect for the thief to work in. Dooming up from behind, he stole their valuables with a quick sweep of his hand. Another statue was created. He liked it. It excited him. He placed the item he’d snatched, a wallet filled with gold mizas, in the large sack he still held in his left hand. It was getting pretty full. And heavy. But that was okay. He could continue as long as he wanted. If needed, he’d just ask, or rather take the other himselfs their sack. His dark, greedy orbs darted from person to person, scanning their person for expensive goods. The unmoving Brandon watched the crowds as the thief was unleashed. He should have expected this would happen. The insatiable greed the man was built of couldn’t be quenched. And since the reasonable one wasn’t stopping him, he just kept robbing people and turning the poor fellows to stone. Maybe he should act. Or maybe not. Actually, he didn’t really care about them. He just watched from the sidelines and observed. Keeping quiet. Just standing, motionless. He felt no need to do something else. This was interesting and entertaining. Of course, the observer had noticed the crowd had formed a barrier of distance between them and the trio of Brandons. What would you expect? The thief hadn’t noticed it yet though. The motionless one doubted he was thinking at all. Probably not. He was just giving in to the need to steal. His mask had scattered into rubble when all three of the other himselfs had manifested in the room. Engghaen had taken notice of the events by the mirror and the other Brans. He had done so as well, obviously. He frowned in disapproval as the thief started stealing, picking pockets and doing other thievish stuff. That was quite the improper thing to do on a party you’ve been invited to. Rude! This guy needed some manners. He would’ve gone over to him the same instant, but he couldn’t just abandon the girl he was dancing with. He needed her permission first. The worried look in her eyes grew worse as she told him what she was seeing. “Although I do agree that they look like me, and he” he nodded at the thief who was standing a bit isolated in the middle of a swath, looking slightly confused by the absentness of people near him. “…Steals, we don’t all steal. Only he does. I am too refined to do so.” The cheerful grin on his face had disappeared way too quickly when everybody backed away from him. He sighed. He too was isolated, surrounded by party guests and some statues here and there. A wall of air separated him from the rest of them. He didn’t like that. Parties were supposed to be fun, but here he was standing alone and gazed upon as if he was some vicious monster. Which he wasn’t. he sighed miserably, sadness written all over his face. So, he couldn’t interact with other people, but surely there was something else to do? His dark orbs, rid of their gleam of pleasure, drifted across the room, stopping at the huge chandelier. A grin appeared and excitement flickered in his eyes. Taking a grappling hook from his right shoulder, he’d apparently been carrying one, he swung it in a circle on his right side. With a mighty hurl, he threw the hook straight upwards. Grappling one of the side branches of the chandelier, the grappling hook was stuck. Testing if the hook wasn’t coming of, he placed some weight on the rope. Satisfied with the result, he started clambering up. “He’s coming this way.” he warned Enggy. Needless to say, the gentleman was right. The thief was strolling their way, swiftly shifting his gaze to the left and right, like a vulture looking for a corpse. The gentle Bran let go of the girl and positioned himself so she was standing diagonally behind his back. The robber closed the distance between the two of them quickly, his cape fluttering after him. He pulled down his scarf and a malicious grin appeared on his lips. Greed burning in his black orbs. “I see you finally let go of what is rightfully mine.” The Brandon wearing the fancy clothes snorted. “Don’t talk about Engghaen as if she’s just another object you stole. Besides, you are the part of us she despises.” Anger flared on his face. “And how would you possibly know?” “Easy, I heard from the tone with which she said you were stealing.” “Says you. I don’t believe you! You just want to take her away from me! And that while I was the one that stole her heart! She belongs to me!” “If there is one thing I’m sure of, then that would be that you weren’t the one whom she fell for. You shall not go any further.” Authority lingered on the words. “Enough of your filthy lies! She’s mine! Since you’re not willing to hand her over, I’ll have to take her from you by force!” his eyes fixed on the precious stone she was wearing around her neck. “And those gems too!”He dropped the large sack he was carrying over his shoulder. The gentleman was shocked by this statement. If he’d rip that necklace off her neck, Enggy would become petrified as well. What was the thief thinking? On second thought it wasn’t that hard to figure out. The Brandon in the fiery clothes guessed it was something like “If I can’t have her, no one will!” He couldn’t let that happen. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder to where the girl was standing. “I’m sorry for this inconvenience. Also, I apologize for having to fight with you watching.” He spoke quickly, but not fast enough. By the time he was finished talking, the thief had almost passed him already. His eyes widened when he was roughly pushed aside, tumbling to the floor. Desperation written on his face. The face of the robber was twisted in a sickening grin. His fingers reached out to the necklace. He’d never touch it. Out of nowhere, the observant Brandon appeared, grabbing the thief by his wrist. “That’s enough.” he whispered. How he’d crossed half of the room in less than a tick, no-body knew. The first moment he had been standing in the middle of the chamber, the other he’d appeared next to the burglar. Said burglar’s face was now tuning into one of intense hatred. Clenching his free hand into a fist, he aimed a blow at his masked and hooded face. Dodging it by merely tilting his head, the observer grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and preformed a shoulder throw, smacking him down on the floor. “I said, that’s enough.” Groaning with pain, the thief stared at him with his black eyes. Gazing back at him with evenly dark orbs, the silent Bran returned to his motionless stance. “Why?! Why did you interfere? I thought you never did!” The observer fixed his gaze at the man on the floor. “I rarely do. But it was necessary this time.” That was the only answer he received.

[Engghaen]

Engghaen shook her head. What was this? She stepped back and an awful expressing appeared on her face. It was... Scared. She watched the Brandons coming towards her. What was this? Who was the real Brandon? The one she fell in love with?

She shook her head. "I don't know you! I.. I am not a thing, and if you want my gems then that's fine! But don't... I have no idea why you all know my name, and what you want, but... I.."

Scared, she stepped back. Her face showed disgust, confusion and fear. The girl miauwed. "Help!" She turned to the Brandon in the fiery clothes. "Can someone explain this to me?"

[Annalisa Marin]

So far her observations were yielding nothing and Anna was sorely tempted to simply follow the direction of her mark, seeking what it tugged her towards. She resisted, knowing that patience was needed here in the face of so slippery a quarry. Daren might very well escape her if she didn't measure her moves carefully, for all she knew he might very well have already done so and she was simply wasting her time here.

It wasn't that she disdained this party and the party goers, that was not the case by any stretch of the imagination. This place was beautiful and extravagant, those that did dance were graceful in their own ways. Anna simply had more serious matters weighing upon her, besides she was a rubbish dancer. There was much she was good at besides magic, it was her sole talent all things considered. It was a sad truth, but it was a fact of who she was. Weaving the strands of Djed to her whims was far more easy than other tasks, such as playing a musical instrument, singing, or dancing.

As her gaze flicked over the crowd again, vigilant in their search for the hypnotist her attention was drawn by a familiar voice. Her heart caught in her throat, no, no she couldn't be here. There was no petching way that the girl was here.

However as she turned her attention to the voice she noted that she was indeed there. Celeste Arumen, apprentice to Riyanna Sterder and the girl that had forced open her heart once more. Part of her was overjoyed to see the girl again, but another part of her was still rather cynical towards the possibility of something more than a beneficial arrangement with her. Considering her past it was understandable that she was a little insecure about the whole business.

Still, she had indeed stated the desire to talk without the veiled meanings between them and she had meant it. It was odd that Celeste was here of all places but then again tonight was proving to be an odd night. She regarded the girl warmly from behind her rather ridiculous looking mask, her small smile upon her lips.

"Nor I you, Celeste. Would you care to join me? I fear drinking alone is rather dull, and am rather terrible at dancing." The sorceress responded, indicating to an open chair across from her.

The woman caught the eye of a nearby passing servant and gestured to the boy to bring the tray of drinks he carried to her. Ruby red liquid shifted within the glasses, wine was rather her staple whenever she was drinking. Once he placed two glasses on the table she dismissed him with an imperious wave of her hand, she might be willing to look at the world in a different light but the pride was still there.

The dark haired woman took up a glass, crossing her legs as she tipped it over her lips. Swishing it around with her tongue she found it wasn't terrible, a little too sweet for her normal tastes but nothing overwhelming. She rather approved of it.

"Quite the party, eh? I've rarely seen such a wide assortment of individuals, I'm not certain I could name half the races here. 'Tis rather a far cry from the Island where you can't swing your arm without hitting a corpse." She joked morbidly, chuckling a little.

Great job, professor, that's definitely a good way to make conversation. She berated herself mentally, sighing a little under her breath.

Her grey eyes flicked back towards the crowd, scanning it slightly for her quarry. Pleased that he was not in sight she allowed herself to try and relax, perhaps Celeste's unexpected company would prove something to take the edge off. At the very least she needed to warn her to watch out for a certain hypnotist. The thought that he might try to move on Celeste was enough to affirm that he needed to die, tonight.

"Umm... I like your dress? It compliments your hair nicely." The sorceress said, rather out of her element here as she actively tried to find something normal to discuss.

It was one thing to hold a façade up and display it for the world, it was another to be genuine with her emotions and thoughts. That was when things got a bit confusing, especially now that she was questioning everything she'd once believed about herself. Realizing that the approach was likely to fail miserably she tried something different.

"Oh petch it. I have to know. What are you doing around here? Not that I'm complaining mind you, but it seems a bit odd for two apprentices to be sent to the same place." The woman finally said, giving into curiosity.