Has left the building.
Your Friendly Neighborhood True Fae
It was the evening of the Winter Formal, and as it was announced, the event was to take place at The Claire instead of the Four Seasons Hotel. The change of venue was possibly due to the fact that the event was meant to be a Masquerade, and you couldn't really host a successful one if you could easily identify everyone in the Freehold because of the...unique quirks, each of them had.
Having booked the ballroom in the hotel, the Winter Queen of Sacramento requested that it be decorated for the occasion. The whole place definitely had a wintery feel to it, which was exactly the way it was supposed to look that evening. After all, tonight was a celebration in the name of the Silent Arrow, and the ideals it stood for and supported; such as subtlety.
Sitting at one corner of the bar, which had been set up towards the back of the room, was a tall man of medium build. He was wearing a black suit, and a matching black masque that covered his whole face, with the exception of his eyes. He appeared to be sipping on something from behind his mask, making use of a straw to make things less difficult.
By the entrance to the ballroom, stood a rather tall, bearded man wearing a grey suit and fedora. Even though he was also wearing a masque, it wouldn't be that hard to tell his seven foot tall frame apart from the other guests in attendance that evening. Sure, there were a couple of others who were pretty freaking huge in the 'hold. However, one of them was a pretty boy, and the other one was an older white guy. Thus, Swilla stuck out like a sore thumb as usual. But would someone actually dare tell him that?
Welcome to this year's Eternal Winter thread! As usual, please break off into separate side scenes as appropriate, and label them "Eternal Winter 2012" or something along those lines. This thread will remain open to new arrivals until February 17th, at which point, the doors to the ballroom will "close" for the evening. To make things a little more interesting read the following rules for this thread...
READ ME
Since this is a Masquerade and everyone should be having their Masks hardened anyway, do not assume that your PCs know who the other people around the ballroom are, unless absolutely obvious like in Swilla's case, or you came together (i.e. your date, BFF, etc) and thus you know who the person you came to the party with is...DUH! Otherwise, if you wanna figure out who someone is by just looking at them, you will need to make a contested Wits+Subterfuge roll, with the person being scrutinized getting a +1 bonus to their roll for wearing a masque. Obviously, if someone wants to keep up a facade even while interacting with someone else, further rolls will be necessary (i.e. Manipulation+Subterfuge vs. Wits+Subterfuge or Empathy). Keep in mind the rolls aren't a strict necessity if your PC doesn't care to figure out who the other people are and would rather just approach them at random and just interact with them instead. After all, the purpose of this whole thing is to have a little fun, and be a little mysterious
Serreth was impressed he was amongst the first to arrive, pleased with himself that he'd corrected his faux-pas for his tardy timing last time. As the invitation requested, he had shown up smartly dressed in the only suit he had, wearing both his masque and his Mask. It was simple, effective and to the point. Serreth liked that.
"Good evening," he said politely to the big man at the door.
A man walked into the lobby of The Clair wearing a black suit, a white mask and a pair of white gloves. He gave the receptionist a sort of embarassed shrug, clearly uncomfortable to be dressed so oddly in public, then found the sign pointing him to the masquerade. The man paused outside the room to adjust his mask in a mirror and make sure it hadn't slipped off his face again.
Shin's masque was a simple white affair that he'd picked up in the craft section of a Dollar Store. Renting a suit again so soon after the last formal gathering hadn't left him a lot of money for fancy masks, and besides, very few things would fit onto his oddly-shaped face. In fact, after trying on so many that didn't fit, he'd considered not wearing a mask at all. It wasn't as though his 'normal' face was any less mask-like than what many people would be wearing! But the invitation had been quite explicit about the Winter Queen's expectations that everyone would come masqued and Masked, and he didn't want to disappoint.
He adjusted the strap on the mask for the thousandth time, but there was just no use for it - it wasn't going to be comfortable to wear, jammed as it was on the end of his nose and rubbing against his teeth with each breath. It wouldn't even stay on without the fedora he'd added to his ensemble, which at least held it in place at the top. But it would have to do. He'd brought a ski mask as backup if this one didn't work out, but it rather made him look like he was about to rob a bank and he thought it was probably best if he didn't wear it out on the street.
With a sigh, he stepped into the gorgeously decorated ballroom and found that only a few others had already arrived. He nodded to the ridiculously tall man in a skull masque guarding the door, and to the other (slightly less) tall man who was wearing a masque similar to his own.
- 1 Glamour for hardened Masque, -2 Glamour for songs of Distant Arcadia
2 suxx Songs of Distant Arcadia
Date
Action
Roll
Result
2013-02-08 16:30:39
Lou rolls 8 to activate songs of distant Arcadia (Presence 4 + SL2 + 2) (10 Again)
10, 7, 7, 6, 10, 7, 1, 1, 7, 7
2 successes
Lou arrived fashionably to the party, but not late, garbed in the exquisite, homespun and custom-tailored threads of Terri Nutkins. He also donned both a masque and a Mask, both of which were a first for him in Sacramento. Though the idea of a Masquerade was exciting, the Draconic didn't expect to maintain undiscovered for long. He was one of three Lost of his size in the freehold, and one of them would stick out like a sore thumb... unless of course, he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Either way, Lou was going to play his part to the best of the ability. He may fail, but he would have a good time doing it. Otherwise, why go at all? While he didn't get out and do lots of physical things as a kid, there was one thing Lou could do - Roleplay. And tonight, he was going to play the part of... well, he didn't know, really. But it wouldn't be Lou, or even Louis Forrester.
The Draconic approached the large man at the door who was obviously, Swilla, but feigned ignorance.
"Good evening, Gentlemen, " he said, as he entered, bowing his head respectfully in greeting, and making his way fully into the establishment. "How fare you this evening?"
Upon hearing that the Winter event was to take place at The Claire Hotel, instead of the increasingly familiar Four Seasons, Vincent had taken advance steps to learn of its location and plot a course before the big day. This time his travel time had been cut somewhat as he added taking the bus to his list of new things to do in Sacramento.
His jacket pocket was currently padded with both a map and a fresh bus time tablle as a result. His other pocket jingled a little when he moved, with the sound of change left over from the journey. Like a much coveted prize, Vincent's bus ticket was secreted away inside an inside pocket.
As Vincent neared the lavish location, a hand - ungloved on this occasion, smoothed the inexpensive but neatly pressed jacket that he wore. Despite being quite fully clothed, the Wizened felt rather naked without his thick overcoat. The one he was currently attired in was of a similar length, but it just wasn't the same.
But he thrust aside any semblence of discomfort the moment he stepped across the threshold to the hotel. The mask he wore to cover his face allowed him a certain sense of anonymity, on top of the fact that few Courtiers had had the opportunity to speak with him since his arrival. He paused on the opposite side of the doors and studied the utterly unfamiliar interior of the place, and noted with a little relief that he was neither the first or the last to arrive.
Raising a hand, his fingertips brushed across the lines of the mask, following the patterns for a few seconds. The action was soothing, reminding him of the lines across his own skin. At least this mask he could take off at the end of the night and, Vincent hoped, in the long-run associate it with a good memory.
He squared his shoulders and moved toward the men who had already arrived, halting beside the enormous draconic.
Leah wasn’t sure why she decided to attend the event, she hated dresses. But she remembered she was new, and was trying to make a good impression, hence the stop by a dress store, trying desperately to find something she would actually be able to move in. The selection was green in color, and didn’t restrict her movement too much, but she was still unhappy with the whole dress thing. Finding the right mask was another issue, not being the dress up type she went with whatever the sales clerk recommended, offering her thanks to the cheerful woman.
She arrives to the Claire, feeling a little out of place in such a fancy dress until she enters the room and pauses to take in the decorations which were simply beautiful. There was a small gathering of fairly large men at the door, and Leah debates saying hi. Figuring she had nothing to lose she decides to be social and stops, smiling to the masked men, “Good evening.” She said, addressing the group as a whole.
Even with Anya's mask firmly set in place to cover a vast majority of her face there was no mistaking the air of confidence with which the Fairest stepped across the threshold of The Claire Hotel. From beneath the cracked porcelain, dark and enigmatic brown eyes peered out to regard the Lost who were already in attendance and then to the man beside her, on her arm.
Of the others, Anya could not be certain of their identities: it was a Masquerade, and if first guesses were entirely accurate, it would take away some of the fun.
The dress she wore was sleek, of a material that it would be incredibly pleasant to run ones fingertips across. The colour was a gentle nod toward the winter season; in a royal blue that matched but did not detract from, the magnificent decor. With her usual appearance so carefully hidden, it was impossible to detect the trail of purple scales that would usually have been so obvious across the draconic's shoulder blades. As it was, the tastefully exposed areas that the dress allowed, merely suggested at an incredibly lithe body beneath.
But then she was a Fairest.
Raising a hand she ran a couple of carefully manicured - but not, in this guise - overtly long nails through sleek auburn hair. It lacked the usual wild, untamed air that usually characterised the Draconic. Like this, Anya felt almost entirely normal.
With that thought building, her gaze travelled to the tall, powerful man beside her. Even with the mask covering his face, and the additional tinted lenses beneath the eye holes to disguises the shuttered irises, Rook was still so perfectly him. No one else would would recognise him, with his mask hardened to maintain the air of secrecy surrounding the Masquerade; but to Anya he remained intimately familiar.
L’aire felt a little out of the norm for her dressed in a big poofy gown. Not to mention the long gloves that accompanied the attire. The masque wasn’t anything hugely drastic, but it was enough to make her look like anyone else even with the plumes of black feathers. Especially with the addition of contacts that made her eyes blue. For all intents and purposes, the Winter Fairest felt normal.
Which sometimes was far more appealing to her than anything. It was also something she enjoyed about someone else. He couldn’t see what was beneath. For the way L’aire felt right now, it would take something truly earth shattering for her ever to reveal herself to him. Even if it pained her to hold back the real truth, but it was part of protecting him.
The Dancer was excited for the evening as she stepped into the beautifully decorated ballroom. It was breath taking, for it the first one she’d come to since arriving in Sacramento. A nod to the men at the door before slipping past as her shoes clicked on the floor. Heels for a change, not her usual flats. They were ballroom dance shoes though, that really looked like most other popular heels. One thing L’aire was taught long ago is never cheap out on shoes because her feet were her livelihood. Doing something completely out of the ordinary for her, the Winter Fairest headed to the bar. “White wine, please.” She kindly asked while removing a bill from her small purse on a thin cord.
Maybe it was Magnus sitting there, or someone else who favored the alcohol, but regardless L’aire turned to the medium build of a man in a black masque. “Hello there.” The Winter said with a simple smile.
Green scowled as he hurried to The Clair. The suit chafed. He swore, even now, after hours of searching, that the damned thing still did not fit right. He had almost quit attending at all, given the incredible difficulty of obtaining, on a simple construction workers wage, a formal outfit big enough for him to fit in.
You'd be better served with a custom job, they said. Like hell! Like I can afford a real tailor!
His jaw ached: he did not like the feel of this tender meat stuff stretched thin over the craggy, granite, lines of his face. He could feel every jagged edge and plane beneath the meat, and each movement, each facial tick, the fleshy muscle caught on something. If the gathering had not been called by the Winter Queen, the mountain really believed he would have given the whole thing a pass. At least the meat hid his face and the simmering anger there. On top of that, he had obtained a domino mask that actually fit his big head.
Mask
Hide your love and your hate. With a monumental effort, the mountain smoothed out his scowl just before he reached the function. He paused for a moment, sucked in a lungful of cool air, and ploughed on. Decorations meant nothing to the mountain. All he saw was a chamber with many, many delicate things packed close together - where a misplaced foot could cause an avalanche of chaos and disorder. His first action once inside is to step gingerly to the left of the door and take in his surroundings, as if trying to lock a mental map into his mind.
There had been trouble with the Mask. It was a simple fact that he couldn't have his eyes visible, which meant that in a lot of ways, what Rook actually needed was almost the opposite of a mask. It had taken some time to work out a compromise that didn't result in him showing his eyes to everyone present, and then some inventiveness with a broken pair of sunglasses and tape on the inside of the delicate, note-inscribed mask Anya had presented him with.
The woman holding his arm as he walked into the ballroom was beautiful even when masked. The tall, grey-haired man beside her didn't radiate power, or command, or much of anything beyond a sort of quiet reservation. Certainly, his build was still evident, the way the immaculately clean tuxedo pulled across his body as he moved demonstrating the muscles beneath it. But he didn't steal attention the way the woman on his arm did, masked or not. He was simply there, a solid presence beside her enchantment.
The mirrored lenses behind the mask glinted, concealing his shuttered irises as they examined the room. Strong, quick hands guided his partner, insofar as she would ever allow herself to be led. Perhaps the better way of thinking of it was that she was content to give herself the appearance of being led.
He made not even the slightest attempt to try and decipher who was who behind the masks. The Metalflesh knew that puzzling over it would probably simply frustrate him for the entire night, though part of him was always watching. After all, the simple answer was that it could be anyone behind the masks - even an enemy.
Enemy piece?
The Board, mask hardened or not, would not be having a quiet night.
Rook placed his hand over Anya's, aware that beneath the illusion there were steel rivets and bronze talons... but it was nice, just for a moment, to see the flesh and blood fingers entwined. To imagine that that was real, and all that there was.
As usual, please break off into separate side scenes as appropriate, and label them "Eternal Winter 2012" or something along those lines. This thread will remain open to new arrivals until February 17th, at which point, the doors to the ballroom will "close" for the evening. To make things a little more interesting read the following rules for this thread...
READ ME
Draft this Post
2 suxx Songs of Distant Arcadia
