(1610) Formal Court

[unlimited sink]

"Quite so," Henri responds to the Savage Priscus. "The sights and sounds, very soothing indeed. Hypnotic even." He manages to pull his eyes away from the fountain to consider her. "And yes, I imagine this would make you a touch home sick?" He'd been to Rome once or twice as a mortal man. A beautiful city, really. Filled with beautiful art. To this day, Caravaggio remains a favorite of his.

"And my costume, well...I appreciate the Greek understanding of adornment. For them, the body was a work of art. Something to be admired and desired. The draping, the hang of the garment from the body, in ancient Greek dress. Well, it lives up to the old maxim: 'Clothes promise debauchery.'" He gives her a mischievous smile. "What inspired your choice, Priscus?" He asks, his curiosity evident as he once again examines her attire.

Court is starting to fill up, and with the tide of Kindred moving in, Its complaints begin in earnest. Hate and fear, hate and fear. Boring really. If only he could dismiss the feelings so easily. Instead, he focuses on his conversation with Alessandra: "Yes, a couple of new faces. And one dressed in the cloth..." He wonders if this is the woman's idea of the exotic or if, perhaps, it is a sign of very real devotion...

The Prince makes his entrance, and Henri takes a moment to sketch a bow from across the room. And then, catching sight of Vivian York as she arrives, he offers his cousin a smile and a respectful nod. "What interesting costumes..." he muses as he takes it all in.

Side thread, Orianna ?

[Victoria Stamford]

It took longer for Victoria to get ready than she thought that it would. She wasn't overly concerned with it, but would arrive after people had a chance to absorb the ambiance of the setting. She decided on India inspired wine-colored, silk saree, something exotic and mysterious. She found it was the perfect excuse to wear something unique and the deep purplish hue was a close match for her clan colors.

She entered court enjoying the sounds and smells that she had set into place long before she saw the others present. Her deep breathing and mental preparation in place she rounded the corner into court, her slippered feet rustled her skirt and brushed the smooth floor. Following closely behind her walked a man in a suit with a leather gimp mask, and carrying a long document tube.

When she hit the court proper the wave of predators washed over her and her wasp hissed and snapped in response to the challenge to its dominance. She wanted to grind them into jelly for daring to feel at home in a space she had spent time on. The ventrue bit back the wave of aggression and was quickly undercontrol, her face betraying none of the turbulent emotion beneath. She noticed several new faces in the crowd and wondered what kind of woman dressed as a priest. She could possibly be mistaken for a clergy from a progressive Methodist or Lutheran Church among kine, but her appearance screamed Sanctified.

Lovely, she thought darkly and the prospect of Lance in the city. They have all worked out so well in the past.

The intrepid explorer Prince got a nod and a smile from Victoria as she made her way across the floor. Vivian's outfit was certainly interesting and quite colorful, it was rather daring. The practically naked Reeve got a small blink of surprise from her, and was glad that she at least came prepared in case anything should happen, because it was unlikely he was packing much in that speedo. The fact that the couple came dressed in swimwear was interesting and she wondered the logic behind it. She decided to approach the fountain with the Toga and kimono clad individuals.

"Good evening Priscus, Mr. Michaud," Victoria said to Alessandra and Henri. "I trust that you are enjoying the festivities?"

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[Alessandra]

Henri, Ale and Victoria(?) continue here

[White]

There were only two that captured his attention. His eyes flicked between a man in a suit, and a woman in clericals. The hackles on the inner demon rising in shocked anger and fear, both cut promptly short by the figure of the Reeve. Hot. His eyes darted from Robert to the woman that must be Myriam Riley and chuckled under his breath. Wouldn't this be a night to remember.
He paused only to straighten the already flawlessly horizontal bow tie, giving one last check over thrice checked and secure brass buttons. Jacob had always found the idea of trains to be romantic, the conductors uniform was the obvious choice. Pause over, he walked into Court proper, allowing his eyes to rove the assembled, finally resting on the fountain as he pulled to a stop beside his Cousin.

"I assure you, most formal courts are more... formal." He turned and smiled softly, "I hope you received my letter." He extended his hand as though an inflexible lever from his side, his hand open to shake. "Priscus Jacob Maddox, good to meet face-to-face Ms. Riley."

[Robert Cross]

Cross doesn't miss the emphasis on 'Reeve.' Is it a reminder of an older title, one he held at the pleasure of Kenneth Gilroy, one that had caused the Prince some displeasure? Or is it a whole new reprimand? A subtle warning that Cross, and his appearance, now represent the Prince's power in the Domain?

One good thing about his outfit, though? He doesn't have to imagine that the Prince's eyes are stripping him of all protection. He's already stripped. His weight shifts ever-so-slightly, so that he's standing imperceptibly closer to Alice, taking comfort in her presence.

"Your Highness, good evening," the Burned Man says with a stiff bow, a horrific sight as different patches of scar-tissue pull tight and ripple across the pallid flesh of his body. "I see you're ready for adventure," he adds, straightening. Was that an attempt at a joke? Who can tell.

"I've already told Lady Seneschal Stamford, but I would like to say that I'm honored to serve you as Reeve." An odd sight: the Burned Man, standing at attention. In a speedo.

[Alice Hart]

Already this evening's Court was busier then the last time Alice was on Robert's arm speaking with Ale and the new returnee, Emma French.

Though perhaps seeing as tonight was also the night they'd first be seen in their new roles, it might not have been the best idea to play their joke, Haunts in nearly nothing. Oh well. There were many nights to come where they'd smooth out the repercussions of this night, as well as making other, and potentially more embarrassing fumbles of themselves.

The Alice of last year would have stilled, and fled - no. The Alice of last year wouldn't have even agreed to wear and red and white polka dot bathing suit let alone come on the arm of a scared haunt in a speedo.

The Alice of last year wouldn't have dropped into the best curtsy she could when Robert made it clear that the Prince was standing there. Staring at them. The Alice of last year...well.

That was the Alice of last year.

The Blind Doll, drops into a strings pulled, jerking curtsy, miming the motions of pulling her skirt with her murmuring "You grace." before she righted herself. Robert's near-quip has lips curl into a smile, it's too wide, too sharp, but it's the only once Alice has now.

'I wonder where the Prince wants to go? What costume had he chosen?' she wonders in the safety of her mind, already knowing she'll be needing Robert to not only go into great detail on the faces of those around them, but their costumes too.

[Asa]

Asa returned Victoria's smile with an arched brow of appreciation at her outfit and a smile of his own.

"An adventure?"

The smile remained as he returned his attention to the pair of Haunts and the flickering unease each evoked in their own way.

"Oh, hardly. I couldn't help but notice your nefarious plan is underway; first your own Clan, then Clan Gangrel -- I thought it prudent to flee the Domain before it was my turn. Relax, don't Frenzy. That's a joke and not an accusation."

The warm smile and eyes that assured Robert that they might be best of friends some day extended into his voice with a reassuring chuckle as if the banter was completely normal.

"And I do appreciate your service, Reeve Cross. Thank you. I'm afraid I'm going to burden you with one more request, and that is to borrow a moment of Priscus Hart's time -- if you don't mind. Priscus Hart, I'm going to take your hand in three, two, one," Asa narrated and counted off the taking of her white hand in his much larger one as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "...And place it on my arm to escort you to the dance floor."

Asa paused for a moment to let Alice adjust and Robert to agree or object.