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Isobel Penrose || 25/25 || talking to Susan

Oh dear, she'd gotten the poor lady's camera wet! Tibbie wrung her hands and bit her lip, looking worried. "If it's not I can give you my number? And I can pay you back for it or the repair, åh, probably in increments but hopefully that's okay?"

And then the question registered. "Åh! No, no," a nervous laugh, "this is very, um, glittery and magick-y but I'm definitely human. Are you? I mean there's the camera-" a lot of descriptive handflailing- "but maybe fairies have cameras too? I'm very new to all this, sorry." She did look genuinely apologetic, too.

wil azevedo || 25/25 || eeny meeny miney mo?

Wil was also looking at the fizzy drinks going around, trempted to grab something but not sure if he should be cautious... but then he remember caution wasn't usually his thing. Other people seemed to be drinking.

A server passing by had a tray of fluted glasses with bubbly pink liquid which he snagged for him and Nasir.

"Let's pick a room.." He smiled, sipped the drink experimentally, and then motioned lazily (because he was gonna have to sit down in a second with all this STANDING that was happening). "Eeny meeny?"

alois scholz (unmasked) || 25/25 || having a nic fit with empty wine bottles

Cursing to himself, the bottles clattering a thin, whinging harmony about his words, the German started away from the banquet table. He knew the smoke and the nauseating scent of bacon and cooking fat and avid disapproval. He knew the tired complaints of his muscles after long hours of work, too. His mind always gnashed for something, anything more than this - more than menial labor and constant criticisms. He never found it.

Alois hated this place for that very reason.

The bottles were his company as he carved a path towards the outskirts of the Ivory Hall. He did not relish the gaze on him, but he knew of nothing to dissuade that firepit’s iron grip from tightening.

„I haf’ half a mind to crack one of dese open and do myself in,“ he commented to the stale air around him. „Wouldn’t zat piss on his little party?“



alois scholz (masked) || 25/25 || sitting near the Burning Man

A wine glass was grasped lightly in hand, despite his inability to drink it past the mask. A pretense, perhaps, or a distraction. He voiced very little of his thoughts, preferring to listen to others who routinely approached and broached the Burning Man for their own wants. While he did not feel satisfied, he found the ball more pleasant when in the company of someone he respected. Someone who understood the true whims of respect.

To anyone who neared, he offered a fresh glass of wine wordlessly. Speaking wasn’t choice in this matter, evidently.

Adoelle Nashua: 25/25, talking to Jeremiah, Algernon, sortaChris
"Hello," says Adoelle to Chris, smiling. "And... goodbye?" He leaves, and Adoelle turns her attention back to Algernon. "We're quite well. It's good to see people, I've been lonely.

The Burning Man: 25/25, talking to Algernon and Jeremiah
"...Ezra," says the burning man. He does not take Algernon's hand to shake. "My name is Ezra." He gestures to the young man at his side. "Have you met Alois?"



The Peaceful One: 25/25, chattin' with Shun and Ashton
The Prideful One: 25/25, chattin' with Shun and Ashton, greeting Jamie
Pax shakes its head and Pridey sneers. "That's none of our business," says Pridey, "That's the name they gave and here in the Sorrowful Court, we respect given names."

"It is the man in the blue sari," says Pax, apologetically. "It is his story to tell. We should not speak for him."

"It is my duty," says Pridey, but he softens a little bit at the gratitude. "I am sorry I cannot continue to be so helpful."



The Spinel Lady: 25/25, talking to Lily, watching Algernon, spotting Chris and Thorne
She curtseys, a sharp-edged smile full of too-sharp teeth on her face. Her lips are painted a deep garnet red and shine in the lights from the stars. Lily draws more attention, the woman's deep gray eyes sparking with interest. "I do," allows the lady, crossing her arms. Her glass of sparkling pink liquid is striking against the blue-pale of her skin. "Have you missed all the discussion? It's been so difficult to avoid, I must say that I envy you."

Her gaze shifts to the unmasked Thorne, drawn by Chris's approach. Those bloody lips shift downward at the corners. "Some dogs simply can't be taught," she says. "Such a shame, he is so beautiful..."





The Sinister Stranger: 25/25, chattin' with Zac
Prividaniye: 25/25, chattin' with Zac
Prividaniye mumbles something. It comes through staticy and fuzzy, like something from a radio in another room. Yes go ahead seems to be the consensus, but it's unclear.

The Sinister Survivor smiles, mockingly, and settles his knuckles beneath his chin. It seems he's waiting for further questions.

Autumn Smith talking to Alexis, calling over Masked Alois

"They were scared. You had a knife. Hell, if I had known magic at the time, there's a good chance I would've frozen you, too." There wasn't any malice in the comment, just fact. Alexis had unnerved a few people, that first trip. How the hell they had become friends, Autumn couldn't say. But friends they were, and it wasn't something Autumn was going to change in this weird world. Particularly this weird-a** fairy world. Before she could guide them over to Pax, a familiar face caught her eye. Autumn squinted, trying to make sure the masked person really WAS who she thought, and-

"Alois! Alois, wasn't it? Hey!" She called, waving gently. No harm no foul if he didn't come over, but he'd been a friendly face at the bookstore. Maybe he'd have some funny s**t to say with their little party.

And hell, it seemed like he had alcohol already. He'd fit right in.

25/25 Maskedloh is Watching You and vaguely approachable.

So far out of place for anyone who knew him, but then again everyone in this ball was absolutely dripping with gowns and ornaments that didn't fetch them at all. Seems like some people were hopeless, even despite the overwhelming magic of this place. Shiloh himself was dowsed in ruffles, clothing immaculate, hair curled and skin unblemished. It was almost as if the ball gave him an innate glow.

He was sitting in a stool in the far corner of the room as he watched the identities, taking a bored note of the were-folk. When his eyes gleaned over Thorne he smiled, and when they came to Jamie he frowned. So he worked up the courage to come on his own? How meek he always seemed to look. A shame really, because he was cute and he had so much potential, yet he carried himself like a mouse. The rabbit motif really was fitting.

That grin caught his lips again as he brought a wine glass to his lips. The glass itself was actually only filled with juice, but nobody needed to know that. Setting the glass down without a care in the world, he brought a marble white mask—completely smooth and simple—back over his eyes.


ANYONE
feel free to speak with him!

- - -

25/25 Unmaskedloh is aloof as always, talking to Melany.

Meanwhile, A Shiloh garbed in deep greens and teals made his way slowly through the court, posture perfect. He made no eye contact with any of the guests, nor did he acknowledge any of the conversation around him. He carried himself with dignity and grace, absolutely poised as he swept through the room towards the Spinel Lady and her entourage. Though he greeted her with a subdued bow, he spoke no words at first, instead following her gaze to Thorne.

Who was he talking to? How strange... Melany's disapproval radiated through the air like a plague. Was Thorne not aware? It was unlike him to be so willful. He gives Lily a careful look due to her proximity, and then without any ado turns back to Melany.

"Madam," His voice is soft and practiced. He's been waiting for this night, and he wasn't about to ruin it, "Is there anything you need of me? Shall I speak with him?" he was turning to Thorne and the blonde haired man again. His only ever had two overhanging goals: to please Melany and to watch out for Thorne, as he knew the latter would do the same for him.

He looks tired.

Spinel Lady: 25/25, speaking to Unmasked Shiloh

"Remind him that he is not here to play with old friends," says the Spinel Lady, reaching out to cup Shiloh's cheek in her hand, a loving touch to all observing. "I suppose he must have forgotten the consequences. Who it is that will take the pain for misbehavior. Please, my dear."



The Sinister Stranger: 25/25, speaking to Shun and Ashton

"Indeed I might," says the stranger. "All information is interesting, to the right party. Let's see if your questions and my answers prove interesting to you." By the way he frowns at Ashton, she might need to rephrase her question if she hopes to get an answer.

Alexander Thorne (Unmasked) | | 25/25 | | Leaving the room.

Chris was speaking. Saying things. There was a flirt somewhere in there, and in another instance, maybe, in another life, perhaps, Thorne would have responded. There was a warm pit like a seedling somewhere in his chest, and it pulsed hungrily at the notion of attention, of outside want to any degree. But that, like all things, was easily devoured. Swallowed back into the hollow crevice of his stomach.

He opened his mouth, breath hinged and tangling with words in response. And then he looked up past Chris's shoulders, and his eyes caught on Melany's. Instantly, his body went tight and then slack. There and back. Asleep and then - awake. His eyes went dark, dark, dark, and it was like watching someone walk backwards into themselves. Thorne didn't wear a mask, but surely his face became someone else's entirely. Every intimate detail of his body slid smoothly into a practiced pose of attention, the mark of obedience, submission.

Someone wired for action, only waiting on a trigger to pull.

His head shifted slightly, tilting to one side, gaze shallow and intent on Melany. His world narrowed to her bright light, her presence, like being hung by the gravitational pull of something to big and terrifying to be contained in a single body.

There was a message in his entire posture. Command me. Command me. There was no time here, no schedule. His entire body ached for it.

With effort, he turned his eyes back to the blond in front of him. And there were no words he could say out loud anymore. He was choking on a chain, and the familiarity of it felt - close. Familiar. Good.

His eyes cut downwards, back to Melany. "As you wish it," he said, and in a single stride, moved past the blond. His hand pressed to the warmth of Chris's chest in passing though, nails biting the soft flesh above his heart. Careful, he didn't say out loud, Stay away from her. Stay away - stay close - stay away from me. Stay -

The contact dropped. Thorne cut across the room in easy, conquering strides, until he was near Melany and Shiloh, eyes cutting to both of them, demure only with the Spinel Lady, viciously dark.

"There is no need to remind me," Thorne said, his voice soft, gentled, though his gaze lingered with weight on Shiloh, "I did not forget. But I apologize, Madam. The misstep was mine." He paused, and tilted his head forward and down, a ghosting bow close to Melany, the darkened violet of his eyes shadowed by heavy lashes. "What would you have of me?"

Let's leave, the blond had told him, and he wanted more than anything to take his offer and go.

But not before he reminded himself of his own place, his own position here in court. And not before he reassured Melany that above all else, he was a hound at her heels, waiting on her orders and nothing else.