The Masquerade Ball (Open to ALL)

[Celeste Arumen]

Celeste considered the proffered chair for a moment before she sank into it as gracefully as she could manage. The offer of drinking certainly piqued her curiosity; the young girl had precious few opportunities to actually get drunk, much less at a grand ball. There was a first time for everything however, as someone had once said. She lifted the glass tentatively, swirling the crimson contents with a wry grin before taking a sip and trying not to choke. This wine was certainly sweeter than she last remembered. Still, the fire traveled south into her belly, easing her coiled muscles, causing her to sigh.

”I’ve seen a good many of them,” she replied, continuing to swivel the glass. ”In Alvadas, that is. The city gets a lot of tourists, what with the Inverted and all. It’s the only place in Kalea that most races can arrive at safely.” It was far more natural, being candid with her in this way. Celeste was incredibly relieved not to have to bluster or pretend. She tucked a strand of azure hair behind her ear, revealing an inverted purple triangle. They were suddenly trading secrets for secrets, it seemed.

”Thank you,” she replied brightly, glancing down at the piece of finery. It was the nicest dress she’d ever worn. Of course, it was obvious that Annalisa struggled with small talk. Under normal circumstances, Celeste wouldn’t have minded comfortable silence, either. But they were at a party together and it was obvious that the woman opposite her could really use a friend. There were terrible secrets resting upon her the bone birds of her shoulders, weighing them to the floor. If anything, she wanted to help life some of that burden, to perhaps bring her back to an easier time, where she was truly herself.

She laughed at the outburst. ”It’s okay! No secrets, right?” But her question raised an interesting point. Celeste struggled to recall just why she was there, or even how she got there in the first place. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less she could recall about what had happened before she’d arrived. After a moment of puzzling, she finally shrugged. ”I have absolutely no idea. This whole thing is kind of like a dream.” After a second, her words sank in, but she still said nothing. Perhaps it was an illusion and if so, it was akin to being home.

The crowds parted in front of them. Her eyes were drawn to the center of the floor and the panic there, several duplicates of the same man wreaking havoc amongst the patrons. Celeste certainly knew a thief when her saw one, having once been a member of the esteemed thief community. Still, something wasn’t quite right. She smiled lightly. ”Chaos,” she said, inclining her head toward the dance floor. Little did they know, they were somewhat akin to one another. After all, chaos and illusion went hand and hand. One would reap while the other would sow.

”What are you doing here, if I may ask?” She took another sip of the “too-sweet” wine, coughing a bit.

[Roderick]

A new man appeared then, dressed in a long multi-coloured robe, a blue peacock mask covering his face. He moved about as though he was the most important person there, vanishing from sight among the other guests only to occasionally resurface for a brief moment before slipping away again. The tray of food lingered nearby, with various other guests taking their preferred snacks from it. Roderick wasn’t particularly aware of any specific treat he favoured, but when he saw a piece of honey-roasted venison he gave a mental shrug, plucked it from the plate and tossed it between his lips. Swiftly swallowing it he took a glass of wine from the tray, nodding pleasantly to the servant and turning away as he sipped from the vessel. A warm, spicy taste accompanied the liquid’s entrance, and he felt his tongue being wrapped in the rich strength of the drink. He could enjoy this, he felt. The man who’d eaten the moth earlier was accompanied by a woman, who lowered a mouse into her mouth by its tail and crunched her way through its small body. This event was becoming stranger by the minute. Watching briefly as the odd couple made their way to the centre of the room to dance, he turned his attention to the double men, the spectre’s voice speaking out. Somehow it pierced not just the air, but his very mind, so that Roderick stopped completely in surprise. Regaining his composure he approached the two of them. “There are two of you.” He told the physical man. Then he looked at the spectre and, on a whim, reached a hand out to him, fingers piercing through and pervading the translucent material he was composed of. A strange tingling feeling curled around the Zeltivan’s fingers as he shifted his digits around. Withdrawing the limb as he saw the ghost man’s look, he looked at him long and hard, blue eyes staring out harshly through the mask across his face. “What are you? You’re not a ghost – your body is right here.” Another woman seemed to have taken notice of the man and his ghostly double; looking over at the two figures he could see that she was well and truly startled by everything around her. After the odd encounter with the dancing woman, he couldn’t blame her for feeling a little confused. From nearby he heard a woman introduce herself. Einla Frostfawn. Seems we have a Vantha among us. Not long after that a second woman introduced herself, revealing that she too was one of the northerners. Snowdrop Snowsong? He thought it was a little odd that someone would give their child a first and last name that were extremely similar, but then he wasn’t her father, so he couldn’t complain about it – at least not audibly. When he looked over at her fully he could see that she wasn’t quite a woman yet – it would be a year or two before she had grown enough to be called that. Every now and then the girl would look up to the rafters, where the pale dancer whirled and leaped about with ease. Enraptured whenever she did so, her attention seemed to be on the guests; leaning against a wall she seemed to be waiting for something. Other guests were dancing – among them the couple that had eaten the moth and mouse. The girl looked over at the twirling dancers longingly, and then started looking at the guests around her again. She wants to dance with someone. His thoughts on her were torn away when a new guest made his presence known – an Isur, he knew from the arm, dressed in his people’s garb and speaking in their tongue when he introduced himself. Oddly enough Roderick understood it here. “It’s good to meet you, Pjeil Vueldmak Vizerian.” The Zeltivan spoke in rather fluent Izur, the gesture meant to reassure the Isurian man; he could tell that, for a few tics, the man was surprised and embarrassed about his use of his native tongue, rather than the common most people would understand here. Questioning his knowledge in this dream would keep him from doing anything, so instead he ignored the revelation and instead spoke again “Do you speak the common tongue? Our companions here might feel more comfortable speaking it, but if you prefer your native tongue I’ll oblige your wish.” The dancer returned to them once more, lowering herself down to the floor and wrapping her arms around the Isur, while trailing her fangs along his ear. Moving away with quiet footsteps he watched the two, seeing their reactions. Should he lend a hand here? He knew how the Isur could be, so he decided to leave them to their business and moved on. Away to one side he saw a woman wearing an interesting dress, her mask hiding her face. She was perched upon a chair beside an elaborately-carved table, quietly sipping wine as she thought something over. Not long after a young girl with red hair drew near the table and apparently asked if she could sit down. For a moment the older woman seemed somewhat wary of the girl, but she let her sit down, and shortly after a small, awkward conversation seemed to be underway. Looking around the room again he saw the girl still searching around for a dancing partner. He was half considering asking the girl if she wanted to dance with him – an odd thing to do since he’d never really done it before – when the moth-eater from before caught his eye. Reaching out towards a mirror, it rippled beneath his touch, the after effects bringing chaos and destruction to the party. Moving away with a look of disappointment, the man and his partner did not initially see the man who stepped out of the mirror, or the two that soon followed him, the last appearing from the swirling mass of the mirror’s surface, a frame all that remained of the once gorgeous mirror. One of the mimics that had sprung forth from the mirror began moving around the different members of the party, stealing various pieces of jewelry and placing them within a sack he was carrying. As his fingers brushed against his victims, they became pale and stiff, swiftly turning grey as they were transformed into solid rock. “Best get moving.” He said to those that hadn’t noticed what was happening yet, walking away rather calmly, all things considered. For a moment he saw the man in the peacock mask again, but he was soon obscured by the panicked milling of the frightened guests. The running dialogue the copies of the Moth-eater were holding with their original self was rather confusing; it seemed the one that had been dancing was a gentleman, the one stealing things was the thief, and the one who stood in the background was an observer. A fight seemed to break out for a moment, as the thief and the gentleman exchanged heated words. Then the robber reached out towards his well-dressed self, only for his hand to be caught in a vice-like grip by the copy that had, up until then, not really done anything. This night was growing rather annoying, Roderick felt. Sighing at the chaos that was spreading rapidly, he walked over to the two woman that were calmly sitting at their table watching events unfold, and sat himself down on a third chair that had been left vacant. “Sorry for being abrupt, ladies, but you seem fairly sane. It’s either you, or the man that’s arguing with himself.” He was still holding his glass of wine. Taking a sip he placed it on the table and peeled his mask off, No point in having this. Setting the object down on the table he pulled his hood back, revealing all of his head for them to see. Now that the mask was no longer clinging to his face he felt greatly relieved; for some reason it had been extremely annoying for him. He supposed it was because he was unused to wearing such an unneeded piece of clothing.

[Engghaen]

Engghaen stood back. "Sorry Brandon... -Brandons..." she corrected herself. "But I'm not going to watch you people fight about me." Right? Best sI can do is flee now. The girl changed shape, while her dress ended up on the floor. She had to be careful doing this. Then she darted through the crowd of people, trying to avoid being hit.

this was almost like I did ages ago in th- Abruptly her thoughts ended when she got swept away by a foot. The cat put her legs under her body again and started running, picking up speed so she could reach the other side of the room.

It wasn't far, there she was. The cat commanded her legs to stop running, but they were tired and slow. This caused her to crash into the table. That hurts... It was almost as if someone had hit her with a hammer. Seemingly dizzy and tired, she walked- or crawled, with some effort- to the legs that were at this table. One, two, three... With even more effort, she climbed on top of the table. Man, this was awful. That's why I don't like parties..

Looking around, she now saw the chaos grow bigger and from a different perspective. It was awful. And now, morphing back would be a problem. At least, for her. She didn't really want to be naked on a chic kind of party with guests sitting on the table who might have seen her at the other end.

Then she looked at the people closest to her. Two girls and a man. And a glass of wine. And a peacock mask. The cat shrugged. In her mind, at least. What these people did is none of my business, neither is what I do theirs. But I can't be sitting here like this. What an awful party.

[Wrenmae]

He was aware it was a dream.

No matter how the guests chose to swirl and dance, no matter how confusing the doubles or triples of a single man were, it was all a fabrication of joined minds...everyone trapped within a little box while mad fingers made them leap like marionettes.

Wren grinned a bit ruefully, Sagallius would have liked this...a strange world where the half-awake and the barely conscious interacted like this madness was commonplace. The doubles grappled with each other, and the girl who'd been with the goatee'd man shifted swiftly and bounced away. A kelvic...well, who could have known the human pretenders had the capacity to reach this level of dream.

Interesting, that.

He found himself losing perspective here, with the casual violence and cool madness of it all. So as he passed the table of Roderick, Annalisa, and Celeste, without actually laying his eyes on them, he picked up the cat by the scruff of its neck and deftly hurled it back across the ballroom toward where the doubles battled, with the careless air of someone merely tossing trash.

He would have stayed to sit, casually remarked on the state of affairs, but laying his eyes on Annalisa, a familiar throb lanced through his neck...a reminder that even within a dream, the marks of gods knew each other.

His eyes grew flat behind his mask and he swiftly, and stiffly bowed. "Sir, Ladies, apologies for the pest problem. I'll be in contact with management," and then swiftly quitted himself of their presence, slipping through the crowd with a hasty urgency.

Chaon.

Always Chaon.

And Rhysol's lovely servants only really knew how to do one thing.

Complicate matters.

[Roderick]

The trio of arguing men was having a negative effect on the woman that had originally been accompanying the gentleman. While he couldn't hear what was said, he knew that she wasn't pleased in the slightest about what was happening. Backing away in fear, a series of bright lights began forming around her as she morphed. A Kelvic then. Explains why she ate the mouse. Her dress fell to the floor and in place of a woman there was a cat. Fleeing the arguing men it shot about the room, before being knocked aside by someone's foot. Turning his attention back to the girl and woman he was seated next to, he raised a brow at them, "This is turning into quite the party, mm?" He gave a slight upward curve of the lip to show his amusement. While the situation was very serious, he couldn't help himself; greeting danger with a wry comment was his way of hiding just how worried he was about a given situation. There was a small bump as something connected with the wood below them, elicting another raised eyebrow from the Zeltivan. Glancing under the piece of furniture he could see that the Kelvic was the source of the noise. Limping slightly as it worked to recover from the force of the impact, it jumped up onto the table, its fur bristling in worry. Looking around at the three people sitting there, it continued scanning the room frantically. "And now we have a cat." Shortly after he'd said that an arm reached out onto the table and grabbed it by the neck, hurling it casually across the expanse of the ball room. Glancing over his shoulder as the animal went whizzing through the air with a surprised yowl, he looked up at the man that had just thrown it and noticed it was the fellow in the peacock mask again. Looking around the three gathered there he spotted the woman and seemed to start slightly, his cool composure melting away. Giving a stiff bow and apologizing for the pest problem, he promised to speak to the people running the event and then swiftly slipped away from them. "Well that was incredibly suspicious."

[Engghaen]

Engghaen turned around. What was this idiot thinking?! Hey! Let go! I'm not just a cat! Heeee- The cat was tossed over, almost back to the other side of the room. With a loud 'thump' she landed on the floor. What was this man doing? She shook her head dizzily. A headache was building up in her head. It started drumming on the inside of her small head and her brains didn't like this.

She then carefully crawled up, one leg at a time. Again, she crossed the room, but now more carefully, watching out for the man that had thrown her away. There she- Thump. All those people hitting her! It was not funny!

Then the cat reminded herself. This was a dream. All but a dream. She crawled under one of the tables on the other side of the room, next to the one she had been sitting on. That man was crazy!

Her tail had now been pushed between her legs. She sighed. Why would he even toss her away like that? She didn't do him anything!

[Roderick]

So if you don't mind me being blunt, why exactly are you two sitting here calmly while all that's going on." He jerked his head back towards the chaos of the ballroom. "And while I'm at it, can either of you remember being invited to this place? Last night I went to bed, and suddenly I'm at a masquerade. Now this is happening. It seems too good a coincidence." It was at that point that he took notice of the cat again. From the looks of things it had avoided being overly hurt from the ordeal the robed man had put it through, though it was quite obviously shaken and terrified right now. The Kelvic was slinking its way towards them again, its tail about its ankles and its head looking around cautiously. Scared and hurt, it crept beneath the legs of a nearby table, all the while searching for anything that could hurt it. Roderick felt a certain amount of pity for the Kelvic; she was just scared of what was going on. Why the man had decided to hurl her across the room he didn't know, nor did he particularly care. All he knew was that this Kelvic was scared, and helping it could be his good deed for the day, even if he wasn't overly interested in its plight. Standing up he walked over to the table and knelt down, slipping his robe off as he did so. "You might want to shift and put this on. Unless you want that to happen again?" Leaving the garment on the floor he returned to the table he'd been sitting at before, waiting for the Kelvic to change her shape and put his robe on, then make her way over to them. His breastplate clicked against the back of the chair as he sat down. Reaching out to his glass, he sipped some more of the spicy wine within and then set the vessel down once more, turning his eyes to the others. "Do either of you have any idea why there are three copies of one man running amok in here?"

[Engghaen]

The cat looked at the man which was now suddenly kneeling in front of her. He was speaking about... Wait. That was the man from the table I was sitting on. She thankfully curled herself in his robe when it was lying on the ground and changed again. The girl had fastened his robe and walked to where the trio was sitting. Still slightly afraid, and with the same odd movements she stuttered: "Thanks for that. I don't want to get thrown away again, no."

Then she sat down on one of the chairs still left free, as if it was asking for her to sit on it.
She looked around, carefully taking in the characteristics of the people she sat with. she looked at the man that had offered her his robe. "I don't know why that man picked me up. I don't know him. This is just a confusing thing for me. The one moment I'm dancing, the other terrified and another high up in the air..."

[Annalisa Marin]

Anna was pleased that she hadn't driven Celeste away, it was one thing for her having claimed to be okay with speaking again but another thing entirely to actually follow up. The sorceress was hardly the most pleasant individual to be around, yet the girl was willing to keep her company. She was grateful for that, it reminded her of them many times where she and Velia had simply chatted away with each other.

Alvadas sounded a lot like Zeltiva actually, port cities tended to get a lot of types. Konti, Nuit, Kelvic, travelers from most places both in and out of Sylira. Inverted... that was a word she'd never come across before, though the way Celeste said it likely indicated that she should have. She'd definitely need to inquire after Alvadas, friends were supposed to know these things about each other. So far the knowing had only gone one way, which made Celeste seem more like her confessor than anything else.

Her good mood completely froze and shattered when Celeste said she didn't know how she had gotten here, paranoia taking over. Daren, he must have done something, he must have reached the girl and stolen her memories. Did he know about her moment with the girl? When all of her sins were laid out? Had he been watching even then and now was he planning on using Celeste to further unnerve her? This was certainly not good.

The chaos on the ballroom floor earned a slight smirk from her, Celeste's remark dispelling the worry as she allowed herself a brief moment of amusement. It was chaos she had not played a part in, nor was she intending to play much part in causing overt destruction at the expense of others. That much she knew was not a part of the real Annalisa, just another lie of Rhysol.

At Celeste's inquiry Anna sighed, knowing that the girl needed to know about Daren and why she should be on the look out for him. It was best to be upfront, after all she couldn't afford a secret like this between them. Not knowing about the hypnotist might place Celeste in harms way, which she couldn't afford.

"I'm here hunting a rather dangerous man, one by the name of Daren Marlow. He is a powerful hypnotist, one with the ability to alter someone's memories. He had been stalking my steps nearly from day one in the Citadel, he's one of the reason's Amaryllis took me on as an Apprentice I suspect. He'd stalked and killed a number of pulser women by her account and she wanted him gone, so we plotted his murder. Its all a bit hazy, but I believe I managed to corner him but he escaped. Amaryllis tracked him here, so that is why I'm here." She said at length, her tone somewhat hushed. She let the implications of so powerful a hypnotist wandering around sink in.

She was about to go into more detail on the matte when a man approached there table, forcing her lips shut on further details. The man couldn't have possessed worse possible timing, now she couldn't very well get the rest of the message across to her companion. She's need to wait until they had relative privacy again.

Anna lifted an eyebrow as a cat strolled up onto the table, glancing quizzically at Celeste and the man. The feline wasn't long for the table as a man passed by and deftly sent the poor animal flying across the way, however the action didn't earn her attention so much as the man himself. As he laid eyes upon her and her upon him she realized something, he was like her. Her mark resonated and the familiarity returned, he was another touched by Rhysol's blood.

Daren was quickly cast aside as the implications of another Chaon being here reached her mind, indeed she carefully scanned his words to them for any traces of a possible curse being planted. She now had two potential problems, another Chaon and an insane hypnotist serial killer that stole memories. What a party this was shaping up to be.

Anna was brought back to reality by the man asking why she and Celeste were sitting here so calmly in the midst of such madness. She didn't suppose 'well, I'm a Chaon and my companion here can change her shape at will so really this is just another day' would work too well. She had some time to shoot a glance to her companion as the man gifted the Kelvic, for that was indeed what the cat was, with something to wear. He then posed another question, this one with a much easier answer.

"Likely something magical was activated, when he touched that mirror it is possible he might have activated some kind of system of sigils. It would then follow that the resulting copies are a result of a spell placed inside of the Glyphs, most likely one designed to duplicate the one who touched it. I don't know of a magic that can duplicate another, but the theory seems logical enough." She stated, glancing back to Celeste as though looking for confirmation or feedback on the theory.

"As for why we are calm, where my friend and I come from we've seen a fair bit more chaotic events than this one." The sorceress answered as calmly as possible.

She carefully reclined back in her chair, deciding to ponder her next words carefully. Daren was something she wanted to keep between Celeste and her, however word of another Chaon running amok might very well grant the two the privacy needed. So she regarded her those at her table seriously, removing her mask to make certain they all looked her in the eyes rather than the mask.

"The man who tossed our furry friend there is a Chaon. One marked by the blood of Rhysol if you aren't familiar with the term."The tall woman stated, taking a long draught from her glass and appreciating the warmth of the alcohol.

She didn't say how she knew that, but likely Celeste knew exactly why she did. The others wouldn't have any idea hopefully that a person marked by the same god can detect others marked by the god. It was new information to Anna as well, she had simply known as her mark had some easily resonated at the sight of him. She had felt it rather than seen it.

[Brandon Blackwing]

She wanted an explanation. He nodded. He could provide that. The gentleman scrambled back to his feet and dusted of his clothes briefly before turning to the girl. “You want me to explain? Very well, I shall oblige. You are probably wondering which one of us is the real one, correct? Okay, so to keep thing simple-“ A dramatic sweep of the silent Brandon’s arm hushed him up. The gentleman frowned in surprise. “Do you want to explain?” The observer nodded ever so slightly. One wouldn’t see it when they weren’t paying attention. He saw the thief and the sensible gentleman looking confused. Not so strange really, he didn’t speak often, but he found there needed to be some drama added to the explanation. And dramatics were his domain. He made a wide theatrical gesture, sweeping his arm in a broad arc, connecting all the copies with an imaginary line. “The answer is that we all are the real one, but none of us is…” he let the meaning of the words hand in the air, making the others guess at what he meant with those words. Like it should be. Dramatic and mysterious, just the way things needed to be done. The thief hit his own face with the palm of his hand, and slowly shook his head. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from this guy. It had been wishful thinking, hoping he would offer Engghaen a decent explanation. He sighed. He’d have to solve it. “Basically what he means is that we-“ He was shut up by a fist hitting his left cheek. Fury burning in his dark orbs, he turned to the owner of that particular fist. Of course it had been the dramatic one. Who else? “Hey, where was that for, eh!?” The only answer he received was an index finger being placed over his lips. The thief grumbled something along the lines of “Fine fine, I get it! Geez.” and turned his head away while crossing his arms over his chest and pouted. And then Enggy fled, shifting into her cat form, leaving her dress behind. He jewels too. While the gentleman picked up the dress, calling her name, hoping she would return, the thief pounced and grabbed the necklace and the beads. She didn’t need them anyway. He wanted to put them in his sack, but seeing as he’d left it a few meters ago, and he didn’t want to go get it, he placed the valuables in his pockets. He shrugged off the glances his clones gave him. Meanwhile, the last of the Brandons, the one with the sparkles in his eyes, was sitting on the edge of the chandelier. Getting up here had been quite an adventure. But he’d managed. He liked it up here. The swinging movement of the thing, caused by the giant ape clinging on the underside, was actually really pleasant and relaxing. Another advantage was the view. From up here he could oversee the whole room. The crowd was even more impressing seen from above. From the ground, it had seemed a lot of people gathered here, but from above… the room was packed. Somewhere below he could see two of the other Brandons were bickering about something. Maybe it was about the thief’s poor behavior at the party. It was something the gentleman couldn’t stand, so that would be safe to assume. The observant one was still standing motionless in the middle of the chamber. He leaned back on the chandelier, folding his hands behind his head. Tumult reached his ears. One of the Bran’s was yelling at the other. Judging from the greedy undertone, it was the thief. He peeked over the edge of the chandelier. From his high position he had a perfect view of what was going on. “Great, they’ve started fighting. Wait, what?! He’s acted? That’s a first. I thought he never moved a muscle. Why did he interfere?” Only then he took notice of the various guests turned to stone and the large sack abandoned on the floor. It spilled some jewelry. Then he saw the thief’s hand had been reaching out for the necklace Engghaen had been wearing. Ah, I see. Makes sense. And then she fled. The Brandon on the luster sighed. Great work guys, great work. He fixed his gaze on the white cat, or he tried anyway. It was hard with all the people around. Ah, there she was, jumping on a table. She seemed to be limping a bit, she as using only three of her legs to stand on. Suddenly, a man with a peacock mask plucked her of the table and hurled her over his shoulder, as if she was the core of an apple he’d just consumed. This pissed Brandon off. Grabbing the chain with which the chandelier was connected to the ceiling, he stood up and shouted at the guy on top of his voice. “HEY YOU! YEAH YOU! PEACOCK MASKED BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU TREAT ENGGY LIKE THAT?! HEY! I’M TALKING TO YOU, PETCHING BLOODY DROOLHEAD! DON’T YOU WALK AWAY ON ME! HEY! HEY!” The thief heard the usually cheerful copy curse and shout at some guy who had apparently done something wrong to Enggy. He stared at the man on top of the luster. He seemed to consider jumping down. Not good. That was a little too high to jump down from and come out unharmed. The gentleman must have noticed too because he was shouting something back. “NO! DON’T JUMP, FOOL!!!” Too late, he did so anyway, ignoring the orders of the gentleman. The thief hurried towards the place he’d probably crash down on. He made it just in time, catching the copy falling from the ceiling. “Thanks,” he said “come with me, that peacock bastard tossed Enggy over her shoulder as a piece trash.” A scowl formed on the thief’s face. “He did what?! Let’s teach him some manners! What way did he go?” The reckless Bran’s index finger pointed at three o’ clock. “And where’s Engghaen now?” inquired the gentleman in fiery clothing. The reckless one pointed towards his left side. The gentleman took off that way. The two remaining Brandons nodded simultaneously to each other and headed towards the peacock mask.