Welcome to Gaia! ::

The doors beyond the cats open into an ivory hall, decorated in sweet cream and cool silver. As in the courtyard where the cats had been, there is no ceiling. The moon is framed perfectly between drifting sheets of gossamer fabric that swirl like clouds on a breeze. Small bar-height tables cluster in groups of three, laden with strange, flavorful appetizers. None of it tastes quite right, like there's a deeper sense that the diner is missing. The sparkling wine, though, and the fruit, those are delicious and familiar, perfectly ripe and with a pleasing crunch. Pairs and triads of strange otherbeings traverse the floor, giggling together, dark eyes clustered too-tight behind strange masks--flowers hiding their features, or glittering sheets of rain.

Dotted throughout the room are familiar figures. At the far end are the deer triplets; no mask could hide their identities. Pax, tall and beautiful, wears a silver dress of fluttering moths and dew. Enameled flowers conceal the places where its natural flora have died down for the winter. The Prideful One stands tall in gold military dress, his eyes shaded behind a blindfold of sheer black fabric. Behind both of them, unapproachable and lonely, is the white-clad Sorrowful One: the only doe, her features otherwise swallowed by heavy veils.

About one of the table-clusters is a group of three. The burning man, all aflame, stands with a wine glass in hand. Beside him is Adoelle Nashua, maskless and clad all in white. She seems fine, in stark contrast to both of her missing compatriots; she laughs delightedly at something the burning man has said. Near them there is a tall, severe woman, her dress a shimmering confection of dove-gray silk: This is Melany, the Spinel Lady. She watches the goings-on with a detached, superior expression.

A man in a plague doctor mask stands with another man who seems to lack a face entirely. Prividaniye (for it is Prividaniye) is wearing some vague silver layered coat, a point of contrast to the doctor's starry draped coat.

To the left is a grand staircase that leads to the plum parlor.
To the right is an open, arched doorway that leads into the scarlet foyer.

jeremiah mercer || 25/25 || moving into ivory hall alg, chris, marcus and zac

The first thing that Jeremiah noticed was that his head spun in a familiar way. His fingers tightened briefly on Alg’s arm, mostly due to the sensation feeling far too much like he would be fainting or worse.

When he opens up his eyes again, not realizing they had closed momentarily he lets out a sigh. There stands the Burning Man and next to him Adoelle Nashua. There are a wealth of others and, as this is his first experience back in other ashdown since he had been used his favor, perhaps he should not be too surprised the presence of so many powerful beings that it'd make his head spin.

"We should dance later," Jeremiah says suddenly, the thought coming to him. "At least once, it'd be a waste not to." Something to make a better go of the night, perhaps.

"... but let's move around for now and decide who to approach." Jeremiah then looks to those with them. "I would recommend pairs or trios, to separate and gather information if we want to be effective but not leave anyone alone." His head tilts towards those that are obviously recognizable. "Start with who you know, if any or don't."

His gaze slides to the man in the plague mask and the man without a face. While one is only familiar, and he can't say why, the other he is certain is related to the artist.

Jeremiah's fingers are still clutched, knuckles white, at Algie's arm without thought.

algernon mercer || 25/25 || plan of attack - hoping to approach adoelle

Alg, if not for the mask, would look particularly worried about the way he could feel the subtle shift of Jeremiah on his feet as they entered the room. He knew his husband could see the magic in a different way now, knew how sensitive he was to all of it after the encounter with the Burning Man...

Who was right there. He'd never seen him before. He sent an unwelcome prickle down Algie's spine.

"I think I'd like to speak to Adoelle-" He squeezed Jeremiah's hand on his arm, "If you don't mind." He knew her- knew her face. He'd seen her in memories and she'd been a name floating around his interactions quite regularly.

Alg didn't want anyone to feel restricted in who they spoke to for the sake of murder investigation, but he knew as soon as he saw her that he'd be talking to Adoelle.

jeremiah mercer || 25/25 || plan of no fainting and hoping to talk to adoelle and the burning man

"Not at all," Jeremiah replied. "It's where I would start, though I suppose I should start with ..." His mouth pressed to a thin line, eyes focused on the Burning Man.

"Father," he finally said, tone dry and sardonic. The bone ring left to him was still on his pinky, a cold reminder. For a moment he thought he heard a whisper of a voice, the ring, but it faded.

"Shall we?" There was a third with the Burning Man and Adoelle, a woman who set Jeremiah on edge but it was carefully pushed away.

Alexis Tucker / 25/25 / grabbing some wine!
"This isn't alcohol," Alexis opined, sounding vaguely offended before they dragged Autumn into the hall, sparing only a singular glance for what had-been the cats (and, clearly, wasn't much of anything any longer). "There's maybe-wine there -- gimme a minute, I'll grab some of that too --" and they did, stepping lightly around anyone, not spilling a single drop when they returned a goblet to Autumn's hand. "To not gettin' murdered, I'd think."


---
Ashton Carver / 25/25 / trying to persuade The Peaceful One and, also, The Prideful One
I wanted to apologize, that would have been a good one; or maybe We see each other every full moon, how dare you treat me like that here - but no. Ashton had a reputation to uphold. If she was cruel, it could all come crashing down. (Beneath her deer-skull mask, gilded like veins, her cheeks developed a tender mockery-pattern of scales. Ah, makeup.)

So she went to talk to the deer-trio, instead, because something so clearly inhuman was -- almost calming. (The man on fire didn't count, really. He was still somewhat human.) "Excuse me, but - they've said someone will die tonight - do you know anything further about where, who, how?" It was difficult to curtsey in a suit, but Ashton managed it anyways.

Pax looks surprised at being approached so swiftly, but recovers fairly well and favors Ashton and Shun with a shy, pink-tinged smile. "Yes, I do," it says, "but you'll have to be more specific. This is tradition, you know, a game of twenty questions before the moonrise." To Ashton specifically, it says, "I'm not really involved with the selection, but I know who is. Perhaps you should try speaking to Adoelle or the sinister survivor."

Though Pridey seems offended at being addressed at the same time as his sibling, he says, "I don't agree with this year's selection, but it's not my place to decide. Such things are always chosen by the proletariat. I personally hope it comes to nothing more exciting than a p***k of the finger and a kiss goodnight."



"Good evening," says Adoelle, looking away from her discussion with the burning man. "It is ever so nice a night for an evening, isn't it?"

The burning man himself seems... quite paternal, actually, standing so close to Adoelle. He actually rolls his eyes, the gesture obvious in the changing tilt of his head. "Jeremiah," he returns. "Algernon. I don't believe you've been introduced. This is Adoelle Nashua, a noble of the court."

Shun Kuroda 25/25 | Talking to Pax and Pride



There was a tilt of his head as the Peaceful and Prideful ones spoke. This was a yearly thing, apparently. Though, the latter made it seem that things might not always be so dramatic as the cats had put it. They were given three figures who were apparently involved in... the selection process in some way. That implied that neither of those three were the murderer nor the victim, but he couldn't rule them out completely. Not yet. Though he has a feeling the victim was human anyway.

"Who is the Sinister Survivor, and what is it they have survived?" he asked. It was aimed more at the Peaceful one, but perhaps its brother had something on the matter.

Rabbit Vaughn: 25/25, talking to Hux and thinking about fruit

"Oh." He had recently cut back on his cigarette consumption, but years of indulging the habit had left his sense of smell rather lacking. "That'll be... a little harder to deal with. I don't think holding some flowers under your nose is gonna cut it."

Rabbit paused, lifting his mask as he tried to see everything at once. It didn't work, but the sight was still overwhelmingly beautiful. For just a second he thought of that guy at the end of the movie who you just know is going to get shot because he's dressed all in white. This room was totally that guy.

"But like I said, we'll solve this thing, so it won't even come up. All blood in bodies." He eyed the fruit, sliding his mask back into place. "Anyone you want to ask something? I'm... um... staying away from the guy on fire, but I'll come with you for anything else. We can play Good Cop, Bad Cop." But which of them was which? He didn't have a clue.