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( So when you say explosion.. We taling firecracker or nuclear? xD )

((The fun in it is interpretation. Make it up.))

The Queen had been silent as everyone acknowledged her, giving little more than a nod at whoever expressed courtesy towards her arrival. She glanced at Manson as he exchanged words with Aiden, and her interest in him grew. At first he seemed to be just another drunk, but as his short lived conversation with Aiden continued, she realized that this man was the pawn of Aziz and her plan. A subtle grin formed at the corner of her mouth as this realization came to her. The man may have been but a pawn of Aziz, but Aziz was little more than a pawn herself, for Judith.

Her attention was diverted towards Mr. Black as he toasted her and took his leave. She noted the intimidating glare coming from his furry companion, Asher, as the two of them strode off to the bar, before making their way up the stairs.

She silently returned her attention to Manson, who was beginning to act strange. He then began talking of his little contract with Aziz, confirming her realization. But she then realized that he was beginning to give off an aura that mages gave off when summoning power to themselves, in preparation of some sort of magic, or sorcery. 'Too soon, you fool...' she thought to herself, before deciding that a quick change of plans was in order.

As the surface of the table around Manson's hands began to brown, she acted quickly. She raised her hand up, and slid the glove off her right hand, and bit her fingertip hard enough to break the skin and make blood trickle down her finger. Just as the tabletop burst into flames, she quickly drew a circular symbol on the tabletop in front of her while reciting a quick one-sentenced spell. A dark barrier of summoned energy surrounded herself and her three men, who were only just now reacting to what they were seeing by drawing their modified flintlock pistols and aiming them at Manson. Barely a millisecond passed before the table exploded in a burst of flames that scattered fire in all directions. The force of the blast was close to that of an Aes military grade Grenade, but herself and her men were protected. She purposely did nothing to protect the rest of the people at the table, for she knew that this was her moment to act.

Without waiting for the explosion to completely subside, she stood up out of the chair, tossing aside her black touring hat, and began to mutter words that were not in the common tongue of men. As she muttered the words, her eyes darkened and the lights in the ballroom grew dim. She lifted her right hand in front of her, and 5 orbs of dark energy manifested themselves above her hand, and began rotating. As she was doing this, the three men behind her began opening fire into the crowd to make them disperse. Some of their shots hit the guests, killing a few of them.

Her face curled into a devious smile, and then suddenly the orbs of dark energy flew away from her, strategically hitting support beams, disintegrating whatever it hit upon impact. As this happened, the large estate began to creak from the loss of its support beams in the main ballroom, and the fire from the explosion grew. She then pulled out a flintlock pistol from the confines of her dress, and rushed towards the exit that Lady Aaren had taken, closely followed by the three men she was with.

Maliarc was perfectly content with this moment. He did not like what had happened at the table, but this moment was satisfactory. Talking to Lady Aaren, being able to possibly protect her from any harm that might try and befall her tonight at he party;life was great. To think he was content to waste his life away in the West.

As he was staring at Lady Aaren, watching her closely for any signs of fatigue, he felt something wrong. Something was off;someone was using magic. This wouldn't have been a surprise, except that it did not seem the kind of magic that would be beneficial;there was far too much magic being used for Maliarc to discern completely.

Then, the explosion. As it happened, Maliarc was not surprised. He was, however, caught off guard. He had not expected an attack of such proportions. He quickly pictured Lady Aaren against the black backdrop, wasting not a second in putting a magic bubble around her, protecting her for any harm. He turned his attention to the doors they had emerged from when the left the party room. This was a party hosted by Lady Aaren after all, it would make the most sense that she would be the target. His only question; who was the attacker?

Maliarc would let no harm come to Lady Aaren this night, even if he had to use every piece of magic he knew. Calmly, he turned to Lady Aaren and spoke: "m'Lady, if you'll be so kind as to sit calmly within that bubble and allow us to take care of this threat." Maliarc was not concerned with this. He had expected it. Living in the west, you expected everything. Still facing the doors, Maliarc calmly put his hands behind his back. On the outside, he was the perfect imitation of a mime. He looked to be calm, his body not moving a muscle. On the inside, however, he was going about every possibility in his mind that he could. He would need to prepare for everything, most of all magic. He was not worried about any technology or other weaponry, he could handle that. Magic, however, he was not so sure. He knew about all kinds of magic, but no mage could ever understand them all. Not in one lifetime, anyway. He dawned a smile and awaiting the party crasher.

After the long moment of silence outside, surrounded by the sweet, cool night ar of Lucidus, Aaren began to feel much better. The recent encounter with Vossler had subsided and no longer burdened her. Instead, she took a deep breath and sighed out softly before she looked up at Emer and Maliarc.

"I think I'm ready to go back inside," she said. Emer nodded and took a few steps towards her direction. But within those seconds, the knight paused, and Aaren paused as well in her own thoughts, when they heard a muffled, vibrating crash from inside the building. It made the insides of the woman's bady quiver from its bass, and her insides clenched in horror as a response. Her eyes widened and her pupils narrowed, and Emer's hand crossed over himself to grab at the handle of his sword while he stared at the entrance of the building they left through earlier.

Maliarc's words, though processed, had gone half ignored by Aaren. She stood up, her heart pounding and her adrenaline rushing. She couldn't sit, not now, not while the guests inside were victims of the chaos. Her mind raced, and her heart sunk when she heard the screams and gun shot inside. Hot tears stung at her eyes and her cheeks grew red as panic struck. Aaren wanted to run inside and defend them all, if she ever was able, but never it was impossible—she would most likely fall victim faster than most of the people inside. She never felt so helpless.

"What is happening?!" She said as her hands grasped at the bodice of her dress. "We must go inside! Emer, we should go to the front!"

"My lady, please calm down," Emer said. He walked over to Aaren's side and coaxed her back onto the bench. She struggled, pushing at his armored chest, albeit weakly, and shook her head. "No! I can help, I can heal some of them if I just went inside—"

"You cannot help them if you exhaust yourself, my Lady!" The knight finally had the woman sit back down. "There are other knights and guards inside. They will defend and save who they can, but you must stay here," Emer said. He watched Aaren tremble in fear, exhaustion... he could not tell, but it didn't matter, as long as she did not enter the building.

Aaren stared down at her lap and gripped the edge of the bench tightly, but she could see Emer walk over to Maliarc. The knight looked at the mage, his posture and gaze, and then at the doors where the three of them had came through only minutes earlier. "You sense something, don't you?" the knight said quietly. "There's something coming this way." Emer unsheathed his sword and held its handle with both hands. He said a spell under his breath, preparing his weapon for whatever it was that Maliarc was waiting for.

While the two readied themselves, Aaren lifted her hand and grasped at her bodice again. All the energy she had earlier felt like it was being sapped away by some unknown force, like a tornado sucking away the landscape of fields below it. She suddenly felt so weak, a weakness that made the world around her darker, and in turn her eyes could barely focus on it. The sensation was so sudden that it confused her—this was not natural. What was happening to her?

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

Layla had shut out all the conversation around her, especially Vossler's voice. She had went to horrified, to embarassed, and at that moment, she felt anger. However, she was too afraid to say anything, not while everyone was there. She held it in, even more when the table became occupied with more bodies, but with one body that seemed to stand out among the rest. Of course, there was Ben, which she had no opinion of in that moment other than he was another leader of some sort, but did watch as he left; and then there was Aiden, who left her side before Layla had the chance to ask if she could talk to her.

But then there was that woman, that dark figure that sat with them and silently, pretentiously demanded their attention. Layla felt a sense of strong deja vu, but when she looked over at the Queen of Ater Nox, the girl couldn't recognize her. She knew close to nothing of Ater Nox, other than the fact that it would've been her home if her mother hadn't left. Either way, it didn't explain why this woman felt so familiar. Why did this woman feel like... she was connected to Layla in some deeper way?

The girl didn't realize she was staring, and hadn't even notice the rest of the talking on the other side of the table. In fact, it was the jolt of the explosion that barely shook her out of her trance, and only the protection of Vossler that made her totally aware of everything around her. Layla looked at him, but her eyes were instantly drawn to something much more fascinating: she watched in awe as the Noxian queen produced a spell that in turn took the lives of others. But within her awe was the pain of horror—not the horror she felt before from Vossler's words, but a horror that shook the very foundations of her memories.

She knew that spell; her mother wrote about it in her journal, how dangerous and terrible it was. It was the work of dark mages. Layla's eyes never looked away from the woman, even while Vossler spoke to her. She watched quietly as the queen left the ballroom and headed in through the doors that Aaren had left through earlier. The girl hadn't heard Vossler's words of wisdom, and she stood up among the chaos. Her mind couldn't process what exactly was happening around her.

It was then that she felt a hand grab her wrist and pull her through the panicked crowd. Layla almost fell over but caught her balance, and also caught sight of the one leading her. It was Shalev, the boy from before. "Come on! My father is on the other side of the room waiting for us!"

"Us?!" Layla replied, finally a bit more aware of her surroundings as Shalev had jolted her from her trance. "I told him I had to find you and make sure you were all right! Where's Command Stone?"

"I..." the girl struggled to remember what Vossler had said. She shook her head hastily as she pulled her wrist away and instead grabbed the boy's hnd tightly. "I think he went to get more help!" she said and continued to push through the crowd with Shalev. They finally reached the other side of the ballroom where the boy's father was waiting. He was a man of noble appearance and fine wrinkles. "You found her," he said to Shalev and looked at Layla, "Where is your guardian?"

"I don't know," Layla replied, and then a sudden thought ran across her mind that caused her eyes to widen. "My friends! Aiden! I have to find them!"

"It's too dangerous!" Shalev said. "Did you see that lady?"

"The Witch Queen of Ater Nox," Shalev's father said with slight fear behind his voice, "I didn't imagine she would come, nor did I want to think she would." The boy and girl looked at the man quietly. Luckily they were near Lucidite security who were leading everyone out. There were also acolytes from some of the temples that had been summoned to help any wounded.

"We must leave," Shalev's father said. Shalev looked at Layla. "You can come with us and we'll let Vossler know where you are once this is all over," he offered. The girl looked at the fair skinned boy and then at the boy's father. The man nodded in agreement to his son's proposition, but they waited still for Layla's choice. However, was there really a choice to be made? Anyone who was wise enough would see no other choice than to get away, far away from this place. Layla was afraid and torn between going with Shalev and waiting for Vossler to come back. She also wanted to make sure her friends were safe, that Aiden was all right and unharmed, and that Moa was somewhere away from all of this.

She thought quietly, at least she tried; so much noise, so much screaming... but she found the place to think nonetheless. Layla sighed and looked over at Shalev. "I think I know who can help, but it means I can't come with you."

"But... you don't even know where the Commander is! You're alone," Shalev protested. The girl shook her head, "There are people here who know me, and there was this man at the table that can probably help, but he left earlier. I think he went upstairs," she said. It was after one more, small moment of silence, and a small grin, that the girl turned away from Shalev and his father. "Layla!" Shalev yelled, but found himself led away by his father towards the exit. "She's too far in the crowd now! We have to leave."

Layla moved along the side of the room, behind the bar and towards one of the side archways. There, she found an exit into a much quieter hallway, which in turn led to a staircase. There were a few people here and there racing up and down the stairs, but she was small and quick enough to move past them without getting shoved, tripped, or elbowed. At least sort of.

While she climbed, she remembered looking up briefly when Ben had left to table and saw him go through the same archway that the girl had went through just a minute ago. He had to be on one of these upper floors, somewhere. Layla went onto the second floor and looked around, excusing herself as others ran past her, even at her in their panicked states.

She felt unusally calm, but maybe it was because she felt focused. Being afraid wasn't an option, and even though she was still angry with Vossler, she wouldn't let him find her crouched in a corner, shaking and crying. She had to do something, anything, to help.

[ Beches. ]

Eyes were fixed on the picturesque scenery laid out before him from the magnificent vantage; caught in a trance of intoxication and blissful lack of thought. Even so, he became acutely aware of the approach of someone from behind him, dulled at first by the slightly ajar door before becomong blaring obvious with the opening of it. Chance made no attempt to acknowledge this foreign presence and continued the minor ritual of trading blows with the alcohol and pseudo cigar. Instead of turning to face the approach, he fantasized about the yet unknown individual stepping up behind him and blowing his brains across the vivid landscape below; but it never came.

Then a familiar voice rang out in that serene silence, a familiar one from a time not long passed; it seemed Ben had grown as tired of those below as he had. "Don't hate.." Smirk crept onto his features as he turned, leaning up against the precarious ledge - for a man his height anyway, before tapping the growing ash free of his habit. "Yeah.. They never seem to tire of kissing each others asses while trying to get one over on each other. At least in Thesaurum we have the common courtesy to shoot each other." He said with a soft chuckle before bringing his bottle in contact with Ben's with a resounding 'clang'.

The conversation might have drawn on further, but a sudden and familiar sound reverberated through him, made even louder by the funneling of the sound up and through the corridors leading to that level. Chance paused briefly, looking through the doorway he was soon to use, hearing that all too familiar sound of shots ringing out in the rapid succession of a gun fight. "Sounds like the real party just started." Bottle fell from his grasp and cracked soundly on the elegant floor before that free hand reached beneath his coat to reveal a handgun of his proportions - enourmous and well crafted of Thesaurum make; a revolver of unpresidented caliber. Of course he maintained that cigar in his off hand as he began that rarely seen quick dash toward the railing to overlook the scene, eyes pulling instinctively to his entourage who had already taken up firing positions behind cover and shooting with abandon at the attacks.

Adjusting his cigar to bring forward two curled digits and placing them between his lips, he let out an ear piercing whistle that rang out even over the clamber of violence and disarray. Immediately he was goven attention by the head of his security, and the man motioned toward the direction of the now fleeing attackers. Without as much as an acknowledgement he darted for the opposite end of the third floor where the rounded balcony came around to a more secluded area. Chance burst throught the door and strode immediately to the railing to look down into the alley created by the building in close proximity.

What he saw was the vaguely familiar face of the Lady Aaren, surrounded tightly by some stalwart looking defenders. Being that they were not fleeing, he figured these were not the assailants he was looking for, and so he leaned into the railing to look down upon the scene. "Well.. They certainly know how to throw a party here." His voice echoed down from the height of the third floor, gesturing vaguely with his weapon at the air before taking a toke of that dwindling habit of his.

[[Was going to post last night but I didn't expect to feel so crappy...will post in a bit...need to get to the airport first...lol]]