Open [The Baha'Tian Resorts] The Ice Masquerade

[Fantasy]

80th of Winter, 513 AV
18th Bell

The Baha’Tian Resorts had a reputation of relaxation. However as the sky darkened and the air took on a sharp chill familiar with winter, the resort filled with the sound of music and lights. Many guards had lined the pathway to the resort, ensuring everyone who wished join the festival made it safe and sound. The entryway was lit with torches, lighting up the grey stone with shadows, but it was the atrium that made the walk entirely worth the travel alone. Pillars were elegantly draped with white and sky blue veils, but it was the large crystals strung elegantly across the roof of the skylight in layers that shone beauty across the floor as they reflected the well place light across the floor in prismatic colors. The reception area held a table of beautifully crafted masks for those who did not have one - ranging from hand held half masks, to full masks that could be tied for a hands free night. All sorts of colors and shades, both feminine and masculine, were a choice for a small fee but it was obvious that females were the prized treasures this night.

There were several options for entertainment, and obviously at no small expense at that. Just outside the grounds was another well lit path leading to the falls and private alcoves. The frozen water of the falls and the various pools of water that gathered water in warmer months, were decorated by ice carvings. Many of the Vantha in the city had taken the time to carve out images from delicate looking deer to dancing couples. Some were full sculptures strategically placed in the middle of the ponds, others were carved directly into the falls with great care - a quiet area obviously intended to be romantic with light reflecting off the carefully off the cave walls to give a sensual setting.

The main attraction however was the private dining room. The room had many of it’s tables removed, with a few littering the walls with chairs for relaxation - however it was clear that the main event of the evening was dancing. At the far back of the room was a throng of musicians, who at the moment was playing a fairly slow song, but with a kind of bright anticipation. Several waiters dressed in full black, faces covered in white glittered masks, wandered about the dining room along the tables with all sorts of appetizers, staying clear of the middle of the room. At the front of the room was a makeshift bar, serving all sorts of alcoholic drinks, even a few non-alcoholic drinks for the few children allowed to attend. More veils were spun around the room, many with crystals dangling from them as well, reflected the light around the room making the room nearly as bright as daylight.

Rooms were open for rent for those who were likely to drink too much, or for the couples that decided to stay for the simple pleasure of the night. It was mostly adults attending, though there were a few children weaving their way along the dance floor already, chasing and laughing each other in the spirit of the festival.

OOC notes :

As said, everyone is welcome! As people join the festival, I'll be adding all sorts of mini dance events that will hopefully get people interacting with others they haven't met yet.

For a mask, they range from 5sm for small masks, to 8sm for large whole facial masks.

[Palla Frostfawn]

Palla walked in, wearing her purple dress. She didn't know why she had come. It had sounded fun, and, after all, she needn't show her face to anyone. She had already bought a mask, a purple full-face mask lined with black. It shimmered and sparkled in the light of the dimly lit entryway. Palla had decided to come for the hope of meeting new people, maybe socializing. She honestly usually hated to be around people, but Palla decided she needed to stop stammering, and she had vowed to force herself to go to social events and the like to improve her social skills. Besides, she didn't have to talk much. Palla needed to get out anyways, and she had decided she needed something like this to ease her into being more social.

Palla had never been to an event like this, however, and this added to her pre-existing nervousness. She had already imagined different scenarios in which she spilled drinks on herself or others or stumbled into people. She imagined knocking one person, and them knocking another, and they would fall down like a series of dominoes. This was actually very comical and funny in Palla's mind, and she chuckled a little under her breath.

She walked into the bright dining room and sat down on one of the chairs that lined the wall. Palla secretly wanted someone to ask her to dance. Palla longed for a real person as a love interest, or even just a companion. She firmly belived that nobody could care for some stuttering, Vantha girl. Deep down, although Palla would hate to admit it, she was pretty insecure. However, she had came here partially for fun, and Palla vowed to make the most of the night.p
dress

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

Her hair was put up neatly, fully curl that almost looked a light brown as they flawlessly fell down the side of Orabelle's head. She never left the house without her foundation. This time she didn't do much to her face besides red blush and her same light pink lip pomade they had always been. Orabelle followed the dress code, she was wearing a beautiful silk white dress.

Orabelle walked in alone, no date or even her nieces. The small ephyrian-benshiran had fallen asleep early, and Orabelle was fortunate enough to find a kind woman at Nia'a boarding house who had her share of children. As for Chy'lah, she refused to wear a dress or even go dancing. The teenage konti was stubborn, and didn't even reason with Orabelle.


The Baha'Tian was absolutely gorgeous and Orabelle couldn't help but gawk at the resort. The building itself was lovely but the decorations added a bit more to it, making look a lot more aesthetic. As she approached the building there were a few Akalak guards. Their stare was serious until they got a good look at what had given her a nakivak status. They bowed their heads and in a smooth voice both men said,"Good even my lady. I hope everything is alright."

Orabelle bowed her head."I hope it is too." She began walking into the dining hall. The room was full and she didn't seem to find someone she liked or even knew. Orabelle bought a tasteful mask that was a lavender color- one of her favorite colors- and remained in a corner by herself. The corner was free since everyone was either dancing or mingling.

But she began to grow a little thirsty and reached a table with glasses of wine. She grabbed one and returned to her corner where she debated if she wanted to dance or not.

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Wisps of warm breath condensed and curled into the night air, as Neyasi made her way down the path. Originally, she hadn't been planning on coming. The young Symenestra weaver hadn't really seen the point of such festivities, or attending them. Still, something, something long-buried from her days as a child, had urged her into standing before the mirror in the living room, questioning the poor choice of clothing she had.

Rather than going out to buy a proper dress, and suffering from the scratchy, uncomfortable cotton or linen fabric of which she would undoubtedly have to use, she pulled out her silken cloak, which was nothing more than a single sheet of fabric pinned together in certain places, took out the pins, and stood in her silken undergarments, wrapping the fine Symenestra silk around her body, pinned in a few choice locations, with a little help from Nia.

It was by no means the perfect getup, but it was good enough for Neyasi, who let her ebony hair hang in glossy waves stretching down her back, rather than putting it up or styling it. The only thing she lacked was a mask, but hopefully there were masks available for maskless patrons of the masquerade.

Wrapped in her heavy black fur cloak, Neyasi slipped into the reception area, and as she shed the protective layer, found herself biting down on her bottom lip, her fangs digging into the soft skin. She could not actually recall going to a formal event at any time after her blessed golden years as a little girl, and the ones she did go to with her father, she had been small and child-like in her body. Now, just the tiniest spark of self-consciousness flickered to life, as one of the resort staff took her cloak from her, shuffling away to put it up wherever they put up the protective layers.

Neyasi forced her limbs to move, slowly stepping towards the table holding the masks, and she stood over them for a good moment, unsure of herself. At last, she lifted her hand, and allowed it to hover, considering the fees. She had a choice; A large mask, or a small? The small masks cost less, and Neyasi wanted to preserve as much of her money as possible, but the large masks would safely cover most of her Symenestra facial features, and thus ensure a more relaxed night.

Making a decision, the young Symenestra picked up a half mask, painted a dark shade of ebony, its edges decorated with small, circular designs of white paint. Neyasi fit it over her eyes, tying it at the back with nimble fingers, before letting one hand drop into the silken knapsack hanging from her waist like a pouch, pulling out five silver mizas for the receptionist, who held out one hand, patiently waiting for Neyasi to pay the fee.

Now fully-prepared, Neyasi stepped through the doors into the dining room, which seemed to accommodate the majority of the festivities. Wishing unsuccessfully that she had something more shielding with which to veil herself with, such as her fur cloak, she slipped to the side, eying the alcohol moving around the floor with a distasteful gaze, having no such passion for the besotting liquid. Neyasi sat down gingerly at a lone table in a far corner, wistfully watching the dancers, memories of her own pleasure in the joy of graceful movements as a child tickling the back of her mind.

Nonetheless, Neyasi had no such plans to indulge herself tonight. It was, after all, only with Nia's urging that Neyasi had managed to actually start for the resort in the first place.

[Rosela]

E
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A litany of complaints about the cold and snow ran through Rosela’s head as she made her way along the streets. They were sufficiently cleared, but as another gust of wind whipped up under her dress, a snarled curse in Arumenic made it past her lips. Luckily, no one was around to hear, but she did her best to only tuck deeper into the fur of her cloak and charge forward.

She’d only been to the Resort once, during her spectacular failure of a birthday the summer past, and she’d shied away ever since. However, its reputation for luxury clearly made it the best option in the city for the elaborate ball. She passed the guards without a glance, and only relaxed as soon as she was indoors. It was still cooler than her tastes, but after the chill of outside, she was more than happy to hand her cloak off to be checked. Stepping to the side just outside the main room, she took a moment to let down the back of her dress, after being pinned up to save it from the snowy ground outside. A few careful pats and she felt ready to face the room.

It wasn’t the crowd that caught her attention however, and her eyes turned upwards as soon as she entered the room, one hand pressing to her chest. Lights, veils, and sculptures decorated the room, providing an elegant atmosphere for the night. Through the windows, she could see the care taken in decorating even the outside, though it was beyond her why anyone would want to go back out into the cold.

Attempting to bring herself back to her more immediate surroundings, she made an immediate move towards the table of masks, picking out a simple one of white lace with a small lace flower at one side. She had little interest in hiding her identity, as her many arms would far narrow down the choices anyway. Taking care with her hair, she tied the mask on and moved further into the room, looking for familiar faces. She caught one she knew very well – her shop-mate Orabelle. One hand lifted in a small wave as she moved closer, swiping a glass of white wine from the table as she passed.

”Well hello, dear. My that dress is lovely, you simply must tell me where you got it.” A smile broke out, ruining her sarcasm, and she turned to face the room, one hand compulsively brushing back her hair. ”A nice turn-out? I think we might be a bit early though.” True enough, she saw few familiar faces as of yet, mostly people she recognized as customers. She had few enough real friends in the city, and hoped it wouldn’t be too much to hope that she’d see some of them there.

Ledger-5sm for small mask

Dress and Mask :

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[Alia Beaudouin]

80th of Winter, 513 AV
18th Bell

A masquerade ball. The best kind of ball, in Alia’s opinion. The kind of ball in which no judgement was passed of ones dress, posture, food choice, etc. Everyone was hidden behind a mask. Except for Alia, of course. She was relying on the hope that there were masks at the resort, having forgotten to even go out and look for masquerade masks, never mind buy one that matched her dress.

At least she had remembered to get a dress. It was two layered, which partially stopped the cold, but not entirely. Alia had worn her Katinu over the dress, and although it didn’t exactly do her any fashion favours, it kept out the icy air. The first layer of the dress was a plain white, while the second was entirely red, with frosty detailing all the way along the edges. It was a mohair dress, but Alia had never worn silk, so the material the dress was made of seemed just as expensive as silk could ever be. Of course the dress was beautiful, but it had never been Alia’s favourite. The woman who had helped her find it had been quite insistent on Alia buying that exact dress, matched her hair, the woman had said.

Alia took a moment just outside the doors to brush off the flecks of snow that clung to her ankle-length dress before escaping the cold into the resort. The first room she stepped into held staff members and a table that held many masks, which Alia very much appreciated as she picked up a green-highlighted half mask with gold details spiraling off to either side. Handing off her overcoat to a nearby staff member, Alia stepped into the ballroom.

The first thing that came to her attention as she entered the room were the magnificent ice sculptures that donned the ceiling and several places around the room. They were excellently carved, with every detail thoughtfully chipped out, from emotion in the eyes of the dancing people to every feather carved out of a sculpture of a bird. It was beautiful, much like everything else in the room.

Alia wondered absently about how long it took for those statues to be carved as she floated over to a chair near the far wall of the ballroom, sitting silently all the while her eyes still flitted around the ice that decorated much of the room. Only after several seconds did Alia realize that someone else was sitting at the table as well, a girl about the same age as Alia that was wearing a simple purple dress, and looking pretty nervous to be at the event. Alia didn't blame her, being slightly nervous herself.

Smiling softly at the girl, Alia decided to introduce herself, although quite awkwardly.
”Ah… Hi there.. Uhm, my name’s Alia, what’s yours?”
Ledger-5 SM, Mask
Dress

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

Orabelle had to admit, she beginning to grow bored in the corner. She just stood there, swaying from side to side and taking glances into a nearby mirror to make sure her hair was alright. Everytime she would take a glance into the mirror, a tall yet stubby human would sneak glances at her. A smiled on his face as he tried to work up the courage to talk to her."Not in this lifetime dear..." She muttered, purposely raising her hands to push the invisible strands of hair back. His face changed from pleasure to complete horror."That's right, wrong gal." She hissed, afterwards she began to laugh.

Orabelle turned her back to the mirror again and began to study some really great sculptures. Beautiful ones. One in particular grabbed her attention. A very tall and ethereal sculpture of a woman. No, goddess. The sculpture was a tribute to the winter goddess, Morwen. It was a prize and Orabelle couldn't help but wonder how the ice sculptor even created such an image. The mixed blood began to grow interest in art. It made her think very hard about what it meant. Small sips of wine would be taken as she glanced at different sculptures. She found herself attracted to another sculpture.

Someone carved a lovely family portrait. Starting from the left was a cute elderly couple. The old man was tall, and had his arms wrapped around the old woman, who was small and petite. Next to them was a young couple cuddle together holding a baby. Oh dear, here it comes. The idea of a child. Orabelle's plan had revolved around that. A child, she wanted one of her own so bad.



A familiar voice rang in her ear. Orabelle turned around to find a friend. Not just a friend but someone who had taken her into the world of fashion. Rosela was a sweet and very kind woman. The svefran believed Rosela was the only one who got the idea of hair and makeup so far." Oh this? Darling, I got it from this marvelous shop called Red Diamond Fashions." Orabelle paused to do a twirl." It's the latest fashion, haven't you heard!" She wrapped her arms around Rosela to give her a hug.

"Yeah... I don't see a lot of people I know." Orabelle sighed." But I guess this is the perfect opportunity to meet new people. Flaunt myself a bit." She said the last part with sarcasm.

[Vanator]

It was not really Vanator's thing. A masquerade sounded, well, stupid to the Drykas. His idea of a party was one flowing with mead and ale, with bawdy drinking songs, dancing and laughing. The idea of wearing a mask didn't make sense. But Kavala needed something like the Masquerade. She had recovered marvelously from the birth of her latest son and daughter, her Akalak trainer helping her regain the lean, firm physique. It was time she got out and showed it off. Something social would be good for both of them.


Yes. Kavala and Vanator needed it. Love had failed them that season, both giving their hearts, again, and both getting them handed back smashed. They had agreed, tongue-in-cheek, that their philosophy would be 'love 'em and leave 'em" from then on. Time would tell, the Denusks were a passionate people. Attending an event like this could indeed be just what they needed.

When it came time to head south to the Resort, Vanator was actually looking forward to the evening. He had donned the blue-trimmed dark green shirt designed by Rosela, perfectly fitted to allow just a suggestion of the muscled torso beneath. Black pants and polished boots finished his garb, all properly cleaned and pressed by the suddenly nurturing Cadra. His dark blond hair was neatly combed, a small braid bound by a bronze band dangled on either side of his face. He had even cleaned up the dagger he insisted on hanging from his polished leather belt. A freshly brushed out cloak warded off the winter chill.

The ride to the Baha'Tian Resort was pleasant, the siblings joking and teasing one another. Once they arrived along the well guarded path, Vanator was awestruck. The Resort was beautiful, and the trappings of the evening's venue more elegant than he had seen in Endrykas or Riverfall.

Vanator stepped up to the table of masks, eying carefully the offerings. He opted for a full mask, unwilling to spend the night holding up a dainty covering over his eyes. He chose one in the image of a night lion's head, dark, with darker markings found on the predator's face. The mask stopped at the upper jaw of the lion, complete with fangs, leaving Van's mouth and jaw visible. The Drykas counted out his mizas to the attendant, then turned to Kavala and held the mask to his face.

"Rawr." He rumbled, then laughed, tying the mask to his face.

ledgerlarge mask = 8sm

[Kavala]

Kavala never thought she'd spend the rest of the season not going from event to event in Riverfall on Riaris' arm. But things changed and as hard of a lesson as it was, she was finally after all this time understanding that Akalaks were not rock steady mates. Regardless of who said what, Kavala knew for a fact that once they got what they wanted, they weren't around and found a thousand things more important than their mates.

She wouldn't be called that though. And she was truly proud to walk into the ball on her brother's arm. Vanator had come into his own this last season or two and something in him had finally started to emerge that was stronger, more flexible, and welcomed changes that seemed to only make him seem more determined to make the most of life rather than down trodden. Kavala took her courage from her family, and Vanator was a big source of it.

So when she had piled her hair up on top of her head loosely, curling the tendrils that would hang down around her face and her neck, she'd decided she was not going to be the typical Konti and dress all in white. Instead, she powdered up her face and applied cosmetics to give her a warm unexpected look about her eyes and cheeks. Then she'd slipped into the all black ball gown that hugged her figure and revealed far too much of her body for most people's comforts. The skirt was full and nothing scandalous. It was made of a gossamer black fabric that shimmered with blue when the light hit it. The dress also had a diamond sheen to it on the stones that had been affixed like droplets of rain cascading down the skirt. At first glance it was difficult to tell what it was, but once someone looked at the dress fully they'd see that it was a black butterfly spreading its wings to cover Kavala's breasts and hips, and one matching the first though taller and narrower framing her back. And where the wings touched it left her sides open and her back open so that her scales were clearly visible spiraling up and down her back, arms, and across parts of her chest and stomach. Black dancing slippers, delicate and also adorned with butterflies in gemstone completed the look. Her windmarks, etched in the small of her back in proud black ink stood out. So too did the Nysel mark that was framed by butterfly wings on one side of her partially bare hip.

There was pride and elegance in what she wore, how she carried herself, and that she met everyone in their eyes when she caught their attention. Kavala also smiled... a lot.

She didn't look like a new mother, soft and weak. Instead, her arms were well defined like a warriors should be. Her narrow waist was accented and she moved like something far more deadly than a butterfly. Her dress, in that, was deceptive. And like Vanator, under the skirt strapped to her thighs were weapons, daggers mostly, enough to throw and fight with if the need should arise. Though Kavala often told herself, and it was true, that she had somehow grown past the need for weapons as long as she could taste djed ready to form res on her tongue.

But tonight was not about battles nor the past. Tonight was just about the present and having a good time. She checked her black fur wrap at the coat check, smiled at her brother, and automatically sought out the refreshment table to get them both glasses of champagne or wine. Kavala was still in training, still regaining lost weight, and constantly hungry so it wasn't a surprise she headed straight for where she could size up the offerings and see if there was any treats for her and Vanator.

But she kept an eye on him as well, and laughed as he tried on masks from across the room, returning to him with tall glasses of wine and delicate little cookies in chocolate. "Look. The food looks astonishing. Best part of the Masque so far." Kavala said, nodding her approval to Vanator's mask. "It suits you. Wine? Cookies?" She asked, decidedly offering him one of her two glasses. The cookies, however, appeared to be less readily relinquished.

[Caelum]

It was not until Elise's desire to attend to the masquerade had made itself known to Caelum that the physician had any intention of going. It was not that he disliked parties, necessarily, but he did dislike large gatherings of people. This was for a multitude of reasons, but first and foremost was Nikali's gnosis of ranuri that could leave him utterly gutted in a crowd. Of course, it ended up being ranuri to motivate him all the same. It was a common irony of his life. Elise was the young slave woman whom Caelum had collected from Rattling Chains in payment for his rather unusual services rendered. Caelum didn't have the stomach to own slaves himself, and so Elise was really only one in name. It was an understanding that had taken Caelum several days to make Elise understand, but she had been born in chains and both trust and liberty were things that were going to take a long time for her to fully grasp. Healed from the sickness and injuries that had initially brought her into Caelum's care, Elise had begun to blend into life at the Sanctuary. It was done with careful, shy steps. She often helped Cadra in the kitchen and spent a great deal of time at Caelum's side, assisting him with whatever he was doing. Once Alements opened, she would help him run the club, so a great deal of her preparation was for that. Elise had not shown anything but suspicion and fear at the idea of going into town. It was hard for her to even conduct a conversation sometimes with members of the Sanctuary. So when Elise wanted to go to the Ice Masquerade, she caught Caelum entirely off guard. Unable to ignore this evidence of improvement, he had altered his plans for the day and taken Elise into town instead to find something appropriate to wear last minute. It was a sort of quick and dirty shopping trip, and Caelum made a mental note that when he had fetched his daughter from Endrykas in spring, he would really need to bring both her and Elise to Rosela's shop to outfit them. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he himself could use a new wardrobe. Mizas were handed over for masks for Elise and himself and their cloaks were checked before they stepped into the party. Elise was a vision on his arm. A gown of midnight blue velvet hugged her lithe curves and spilled off the curves of both pale shoulders, revealing her collarbone and the simple silver chain and small sun pendant hanging there. Dark hair was coiled with simple elegance and held into place with a silver and blue ribbon. The skirt of her gown was just slightly flared and brushed just above the floor. She had lined her deep blue eyes in kohl and brushed a hint of color to her lips, shy with every gruff gift Caelum had encouraged her toward. The ethaefal tried very hard, but he honestly was more than a little bit lost. If it wasn't for ranuri, he would have actually bumbled. As for Caelum, Leth ruled the sky and he was unable to shine. That, at least, was what he believed. He was wrong, but it failed to matter. His trousers were black and tailored, low on his hips and brushing the toes of his best pair of boots. He wore a long sleeved tunic, also black, that had heavy embroidery at the v-neck, the hems, and sleeves. Most of his Drykas windmarks were hidden by the winter attire and although his clothes were not fine, they were certainly serviceable and he figured he could pass. Elise had convinced him to braid a black ribbon through the heavy knot of braids tied at the nape of his neck. Other than the mask he purchased, it was his only adornment. Elise chose a mask for herself that was brilliant silver and covered half her face, shining and sparkling. The one she selected for Caelum was dark and also covered only half his face, but it boasted intricate, gold detailing with winged horses and sigilry. "You want something to drink and to study the bartenders," Elise said in her quiet, matter of fact way that had only really begun to surface around him. When Caelum tilted his head and stifled a sigh, she tugged him in the direction of the bar where she saw, luckily, the Denusk siblings. They would help her keep Caelum out of trouble.