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Pykichi walked with the group from Bobbins and Pins, laughing and teasing the other girls of the shop. In celebration of the event, the owner of the tailor store had let the girls make their own costumes. (It was good practice for techniques afterall.) Pykichi had chosen to be a witch this year. Over a cream peasant top was a sapphire colored dress, fitted under the bust, with a short skirt lifted by a few layers of cream petticoats. Purple details stood out from the blue of the outfit: lacing at the back that cinched the costume together, trim around the edges of the over-dress, and a purple bow tied around a broom which she held as she walked. A thin blue ribbon matching her dress wound 'round her neck in multiple passes. Her black leather work shoes came up under her knees, and cream thigh-high socks continued out from under them to hide under the skirts. All of this was easy for her to create, but to test herself, Pykichi had created a witch hat to wear for the evening. Petite, cute, just like the lady herself, it sat to the side of her head, tied down by a ribbon hidden under her long brown hair, which was left to flow free in gentle waves.

While not a very mature costume, Pykichi hoped that she looked cute, and was pleased with her work. It was rare that she got to wear something other than the standard dress required as an employee of Bobbins and Pins. Such an occasion merited going all out! Or as much as it was possible when in charge of making the costumes of half the town, including the King and his retainers. With so much to do, it was a miracle that any of the employees of the shop got their own things done!

First order of business: after signing the guestbook, they approached the throne to greet the King. As one, they curtseyed, while the owner, Giovanni McBobinpinscher, bowed. He addressed the King, thanking him for the party, the invitation, and exclaiming over the King's wonderful costume. The usual sucking up of a shop to their ruler and patron. After the formalities had been met, the group dispersed, each going off to indulge in their own preferences. Pykichi gazed around at all the costumes, mentally taking notes of fabrics, colors, designs, and ideas. Even at a party, she couldn't help but be entranced by the clothes around her. From a white, ethereal angel, to a feline, to a ram and a raven, bunnies, and faeries, and more! It was heaven for a clothes designer, and Pykichi hadn't even thought of bringing paper and pencils...

Azreth politely returned the greetings of all who acknowledged him, though his mind was far from the gaiety of the gathering. His eyes tracked Zel -- he really was fond of that costume, dammit -- as the Alchemist made his way over to the Guestbook, no doubt assisting some poor sou -- . . . Noah? The King felt his eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. He hadn't seen the man in ages -- in fact, he had thought him dead, to be honest. Politely bowing away from the tailor speaking with him, Azreth wound his way effortlessly through the crowd, murmuring a nicety here, a word of advice there, until he finally reached the pair. He placed a hand on Noah's stooped shoulders, drawing his attention away from the Alchemist. "You're alive...?" His voice held disbelief, followed by a strong surge of hope.



He was always watching -- those around him, those unaware, and even those hyper-aware -- and still, he could simply vanish from their perception if he so chose. The assassin sighed and rolled his eyes. This wasn't any fun; he had followed Cairne here because he had hoped to meet the boy King again, to see how susceptible he was to forming a Contract, and now that he had accomplished his task, boredom was setting in. But he had to follow protocol and be on his best behavior -- no blood would be spilled this night. At least, not by his or the Serpents' doing. The Demon leaned back against a barrel of watered wine, watching the monochromatic world swirl around him for a while before he heard a distinctive laugh; one he had heard before.

Tilting his head to the side, Altais felt a smile split his features as he pushed off of the cask, careful not to dislodge it. He Felt more than saw the way to where he needed to be, and with a fluidity rivaling that of an adder's, the man spun elegantly in and out of those who crossed his path. After several minutes, he reached the girl, standing not four inches behind her. He let out a low laugh and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why Pykichi, you're absolutely glowing in this atmosphere, aren't you?"

"Awe come on, Aila. Everything will be alright. Kyrielle will be in here in a moment. Besides! The king is here! What could possibly go wrong?" The overly optimistic wizard said, his stuck on white beard bobbling as he spoke. His grey eyes twinkled merrily from a dark, yet simple mask that covered his nose, cheeks and forehead. He slapped his arm around the smaller, petite being beside him that was dressed casually as an angel, with a pair of wings strapped to her back and an elegant ball gown on.

"Thalanir... Why am I even here? I don't like dresses.. I'd rather be at home... with Maera and Jondayla, sitting by a fire and reading. I don't belong in a place like this. Aila responded, her own mask an exact replica of Thalanir's, except in pearly white with some black splotches on it that Maera and insisted she put on it for 'color'. How Aila had even let Thalanir and Kyrielle convince her to come was completely beyond her! She was wayyy to far from home in a time like this.

"Oh quit worryin'. Everything will be fine. Help me look for Kyrielle. You know what her costume is. I don't." the tall man began peering over the crowds to try and locate his mate's familiar shape.

Aila gave an exasperated sigh. "We're supposed to sign in..." She grunted as she grabbed the wizard's arm and dragged him over to one of the guest books that seemed to be free where they both set to signing their names.

"Athari," Tkal repeated. "I like it!" When she inquired about his attire, he grinned behind his mask. "I'm dressed as a jester. I'm supposed to make people smile and laugh." He idly shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Is it working? If not, I could juggle or something."

~

Manga had begun sketching after the king had wandered off, her eyes flitting from guest to guest as she etched their exotic costumes onto the parchment. Her gaze eventually settled on a hooded figure (Eir Avani) who had lifted her mask to wipe away tears. She found herself approaching the elf. "Do you mind if I join you?" she asked, dark brown eyes inspecting the crying girl as she waited for a reply.

Mira walked into the ballroom from a side door, having finally finished getting her own costume arranged and on, with her aunt's help. It had taken many months of preparation, and Mira had no idea if she'd ever have the chance to use it, but the advent of the masquerade had seemed the perfect time to finally wear it.

Maybe it'd be the only time, but she was bound and determined to keep a promise to the King, and find the strength she'd lost along with her Fallen, Txopu. The only thing that'd truly saved her, other than her friendships, was the bond to her other mares, who refused to let her go. A vacation to the Land Below for a time, suggested by Zel, had done her some good as well. She was still Broken and prone to leaking, a sad pale shade of her former much happier self of years past, but she'd begun to find a strength, though her true purpose was still much lost to her.

The Fairy Queen, her long dress flowing around her and the mask serving to completely transform the once lowly maid - showing a regal aspect that few would probably ever see again, as she had not been lucky enough to be born into the noble class and a Cinderella story would never be in her cards - sidled up to the King as a blindfolded man left. Murmuring at him to hold still, she fixed a few of the feathers in his tail, straightening them out. It wouldn't do for the Peacock to display a messy tail. Granted, messy or not, she doubted he would have trouble finding a mate no matter the condition his tail was in, especially in this crowd.

Reaching up, she touched his cheek, her own green eyes meeting his for a moment. She gave him a sad, distant smile, her thumb gently stroking his skin, before gliding away into the crowd like a ghost. In many ways, she was little more than one now. She turned to watch him glide off and greet others who approached and stopping one fellow in particular with a hand on his shoulder. She wondered who it was, but then shrugged and moved off, greeting a few who waved to her. She was trying, it was clear, but her heart wasn't totally into this whole experience yet. However, there was still the rest of the night to go.

*************

Fiavel finally entered the ballroom, her long blond hair flowing down her back, the green of her dress accenting the more earthen tones of her skin and eyes. Accented by a few choicely-placed leaves and branches shaped into a sort of crown, she decided she'd be a nature goddess, if anyone asked. Few knew what it'd taken to get her the outfit she was wearing - mostly a few missing purses from some of the wealthier belts around town - but hell if she was going to miss this once in a lifetime experience of coming to the castle. Theives and wealthy alike, dining side by side, both liars in the end in both words and dress - no one ever protrayed who they really were did they?

Scrawling her name into the guest book, she moved off to the side, eying everyone with a bit of a suspicious air. She knew Cairne was here, but wasn't sure where...oh well. She wondered if he'd find her, eventually. On her glances about the room, her eyes fell upon the lewd ice sculpture, and she grinned as she pondered just how much someone might pay for that...she'd probably make good money if she ever went straight....

It was at this point that Nick arrived...fashionably late. He'd had to do some scrounging about the castle, particularly in Azreth's closet for a few small items, to finish off his costume, and he was rather proud of it. Most of what he wore was simple - skin tight pants with a slightly baggy shirt with tall boots - all done in a dark red that appeared near black, topped by a very long flowing cape that was the shade of blood, matching his gloves. He wore his hair braided so the hood covered all but the bangs that framed his face. Bright blue eyes gazed through a simple white mask. Paint beneath and upon the mask made his eyes appear bruised and look as if fresh blood continuously seeped from his eyes. Silver bracelets matched the sword at his hip and the silver trim on the cape itself, glinting as it caught the light.

He had cast himself as Death - it was his job, in a sense, after all to bring death to those that would harm the Kingdom - and by looking around, he saw another who seemed to have had much the same idea, except she'd used paint for much of hers. He had to admire the effect she gave to the crowd around her before dragging his gaze off to the others. With so many here, from ALL walks of life, it was important for him to keep up his vigilance to protect the King. Head bowed low, he took up a station not too close, nor too far way from his best friend and liege as he greeted the people enthusiastically, eyes constantly roaming the room for any sign of threats.

Eliana watched the fox lady out of the corner of her eyes, an enigmatic smile beneath her mask. "True. Some forget because the cat keeps its claws hidden until needed." She didn't mind a little bit of verbal play, but there was no need to draw it out unnecessarily. Especially when there were other, more important diversions about.

The likely plump purses tucked into so many exquisite sashes and belts aside.

No, for once, Eliana had a better target in mind. Still high quality, but easier to enjoy directly, rather than needing to exchange it for something else she wanted. Alcohol she knew well.

At the question, her gaze passed over the table expertly, halting on a short, squat bottle near the back. She lifted it, uncorked it, and waved the opening briefly under her nose before passing it to the other woman. "If it's sweet you want, try this one. Fermented cider. Definitely sweeter than that last one. Not really my usual taste, but, to each their own."

The elf gave a small startled gasp as she quickly put her mask back into place. She fumbled for a few minutes, and the whole time was hoping that she hadn't been seen crying. That was the last thing she wanted. She was here at a party, and people just didn't cry at parties.

"If you don't mind quiet company, then sure." Eir's voice broke slightly as she spoke to Manga, and she desperately hoped that she hadn't been spotted crying, and that her voice didn't give her away. In all honesty she really didn't want company, but she didn't want to be rude either. Oh why did she have to come to this party? There was just no way she could be happy, but yet she didn't want to be rude to the other guests either. Well, crap. were her thoughts as she thought about her predicament.