Welcome to Gaia! ::

"My name is Ment." He smiled, leading her over to where Irene was, "What's yours Ma'am?" He chatted with her on her way over, blurting out pleasant 'Excuse Me's' as they went. Closer and closer they crept towards Irene until Ment could see him clear enough, "There he is!"

Sati settled down, considering. "Dark Carnival. Ominous," she muttered.

"Ah, I suppose my imagination is acting up," said Sati sheepishly, turning to Skie. That's right, no one else seemed as jolted by the whole affair as Sati. Magic always had rubbed the merchant the wrong way; perhaps this was a harmless cantrip, a little magician's trick to liven up the party.

Sati smoothed her hair back into its jeweled clip, like a preening bird settling its feathers. This was nothing, she kept telling herself, this was nothing. The oil was not alive. Oil could not be alive. (Much later, when she had the monumental opportunity to tell everyone "I TOLD YOU SO," Sati merely graciously nodded her head and said, "Hmmm." But in that moment, Sati decided that she certainly wasn't going to make a scene.)

Sati saw a girlish young boy introducing two adults out of the corner of her eye. She smiled stiffly, trying to regain her calm. "Ah. Is that the child? How charming," she said. He really was. It reassured her a bit.

The ringmaster bowed to Abigale in the smoke, disappearing quickly into what seemed like a thick fog of the dark blueish colored smoke. It grew bigger now, almost like smoke rising from a large fire. It slunk out towards her as if reaching a hang to grab at her.

Within moments, a shrill laugh was heard and an explosion of oil, smoke and a little bit of glass were witnessed. The table crashed to the ground loudly, gathering the attention of everyone in the area, including Olivia who only starred in horror at what was taking place.

Than came a bounce, upon the glass. Once more a shrill cackle, and in front of Abigale looking down at her were the deep blue eyes of a child, with a twisted grin upon its face. "Did you like the show?" It questioned, quirking its head to the side.



Dark Carnival was born from the chaos! Secretive, Mischievous and Cruel. Dark Carnival's scent leads you on until it is too late, and you are than part of its circus.

In the child's hands was its cousin Scent, Lemon. With a smirk it giggled, "Catch me if you can~" And with that the child bounced upon it's giant ball, plowing through the Masqueraders, and sending poor Olivia into a panic.

The woman had stared with an open mouth when she saw smoke billowing up, in a state of shock and unable to move when there was so much commotion. Abigale had just enough time to close her mouth before being doused in the oil- yet more stains for her bandages. Her caked glasses were promptly removed, showing that her eyes were the only things not covered in the liquid on her torso. Blinking down, she gasped when she saw the bright blue eyes, and looked near faint when the little beastie of a child darted off before her.

"W-Wait!" She cried when she came to her senses, and chased after the boy. Not seeming to care too much for the fact she was covered in dark bluish black goo that had once been the lit oil.

Irene was...lost in the crowd.

Too much commotions was going on, and, while he was relieved that the poor woman was saved by someone else, he was stuck in an extremely uncomfortable position, where people cared less for him than something else. Irene caught a shadow that bounced around in the ballroom, but his sight was slurred by people rushing back and forth. From the chatterings he realized that something important seemed to be stolen. Irene mentally rolled his eyes. This night was just getting more and more...strange.

But it didn't matter what was going on or who had stolen what, Irene's first task was to get himself out of the center of the crowd, and that was precisely what he did. Or at least he tried to. People seemed to loose their manners as something excite them, positive or negative. He grumbled at the rudeness of people that ran into him without apologizing or those who just pushed him away like an object. Irene regretted ever coming into this place. Why did he come? Oh yes...his mother said something about the big city ball. Surely she had expected that those who were invited were mostly out of lower classes?

Well, he had gotten into this big mess, might as well deal with it. He pushed with all the forces he could, while excusing himself whenever others gave him strange looks. He didn't care about what was causing the stir...and he did not want to be part of this craze.

Degas sat in a corner facing a wall having decided upon food and set to nibbling a small plate of fruit and ranch sauce. He licked the watermelon free of dressing while day dreaming. Unknown to him the world moved on with chaos drifting through...well bouncing through the air.

"Man is a strange ctreature with passion and fury. Oh what man makes of himself when the shining light of morality sets and he is no longer made to take account of his actions. He strikes at his fellow person like a snake. Full of venom and spite and the older we grow the more our poison with each bite grows. Degas yawned and rubbed at his face. "My head feels larger than it should be."