It is fittingly the coldest night of the last few weeks of Autumn when the Lost of Sacramento's Winter Court invites the Freehold to celebrate the change of seasons - the natural constant that promises a sense of security against the Others, flimsy as it may be.
The Sacramento Memorial Auditorium has been rented and secured, thanks to the pooled resources and connections of the Onyx Courtiers, looking mostly closed down for the night. From the outside, the windows are dark and the silent air hangs around the building giving a somber quality to the usually celebratory and awe inspiring location.
Those in the know can check the backstage door and find it unlocked. Inside, a burly man wearing a tuxedo and a black and golden harlequin-mask has been entrusted with making sure no unwanted guests enter the private event. Inside, a masquerade shall be held, but the comfort of anonymity is only granted at the threshold after verifying the guest's permission to enter.
The hallway is decorated with dull, white strands of twinkling lights guiding the way up the stairs to the ballroom. The lights are dim and radiate melancholy as if walking through a graveyard at night with only the glow of the moon to guide your way. There is no fear in this walk, however, just that lingering hint of sorrow and loss.
In the ballroom, four tables are set giving every guest a place to sit if they so choose when they arrive. They are places to gravitate and get comfortable to listen to the official parts of the evening. As centerpieces upon the tables, there are barren trees with beautiful lights decorated upon the ends, around them, floating candles of different levels. There are beautiful flowers, combinations of lilies, chrysanthemums, pansies and snowdrops. There is something about the way they are all paired that just connects it all - a calm ballroom, dim and sparkling.
The first table is reserved for the members of the Winter Court, the hosts of the night; the second, seating the other three Monarchs of the Freehold. The third and fourth tables have space for the other members of Sacramento's Lost. For the ease of socializing, there are even some spare chairs standing nearby. Who knows what new Lost might find their way here? Off to the side, there is a final table prepared with refreshments of varying strengths, simple pastries, and snacks.
The middle section of the ballroom is bare, perfect for dancing. A cello case can be seen off to the side, just begging to be opened and played. Soft, classical music plays in the background, enough to pull your attention for just a moment, but never enough to dominate.
The Wydstone sits upon a small table fitted with a delicate white cloth toward the end of the ballroom, the Autumn in it still living, but ready to change. Its presence is both subtle and drawing as it always seems to be in your peripheral.
The hour draws near, the final preparations finished - now the Onyx Court waits for its Lost guests.