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Eir watched Manga as the other drew. She'd always been fascinated by art, but never really had any talent for it. Which is why she was more of a healer than an artist, but she couldn't help but love art. It was always so beautiful. "What is it you're doing?" she asked quietly as she continued watching. The elf wasn't meaning to be rude but it was so fascinating watching the pictures on the page appear.

Was luck was on her side tonight? Was this a sign of good things to come? That would surely be nice... Regardless, the not so angelic mind was pleased about not having mistakenly picked a screechy cross-dressing female (it wouldn't be surprising in the midst of a masquerade after all...), and the gawkish girl inside was in heaven to have picked an educated gentleman. In fact, now that she thought about it, this man might even be one of the King's friends, with the exchange of glances between the garish Peacock and the angel's deathly companion. Would she take a guess about his identity? Would she break the enchantment? It probably wouldn't take much effort to get it right either... but then it might spill into her mannerisms. And with the way Death had been eyeballing the surroundings before, this would most definitely be one of those she'd rather be on the good side of. So, less thinking, it was so unbecoming of a pure lady such as herself... Pure. Hah.

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and the smile that would usually be somewhat cocky and arrogant when faced with such banter was actually of genuine happiness. Because gods knew how long it had taken to get her hair to be so damn white. "Lord Death, I am but your humble servant... I can't even begin to describe how much you flatter me..." The glimpse of not so subtle actions on the background caught her trained violet eye, her brow furrowing behind the feathery cover. This angel had treaded dangerous paths before and done plenty of things the security personnel wouldn't aprove of, so she had a knack to spot the wrong things in a general picture. Including sticky fingers. Oh no, this wouldn't do. She wanted nobles WITH gold on their purses, she needed that gold! Plus, what if someone from this thievery inclined group tried to snipe things from her own people?

"My lord, may this angel guide your hand for but a moment?" The Angel approached the caped man to whisper at his ear. The distant, inviting scent of cinnamon wafted from her pale skin and ghostly hair, a different, subtle note amidst the miriad of perfumes and colognes floating by the ball. "It seems sinners have found their way into our momentary paradise. Misguided souls taking possessions that aren't theirs..." Softly, disguised as a caress across the cheek of the porcelain, bloody teared mask, her hand pushed Nick's face just enough to set his eyes on the right path. Someone from the troupe that had arrived accompanying Lady Luck and the daring Devil was being a tad bit too... indiscrete. Of course, this was just as good as an opportunity to sneak in some 'innocent' moves... like having her lips so close to his jaw and neck that her deathly gentleman would feel her breath rolling against his bareskin... oh so not on purpose... of course...

By now, the Ram had lost interest. Oh sure, she blushed and seemed flustered that he picked out her actual ears instead of a costume, but really...anyone that had been around enough people could tell what was real and what wasn't simply by the way it hung on the head. Natural ears tended to be a bit more slanted than fake bunny ears. But, he indulged her and smiled, "Indeed such a lovely job was done. " He nodded and stood up, giving the girl a slight bow. "Maybe, " he suggested, leaning close and whispering in one of those velveteen ears, " you should relax a bit. It'll make them seem more real. Besides, people are too drunk to really notice. "

He gave her a bow and turned his attention to something far more interesting; A foolish gypsy that thought it was smart to steal in the open. Oh, well, it wasn't in the open. It was cleverly hidden, but not quite from trained eyes. Oh, poor thing didn't know she just walked into a den of thieves. Nor did the rest of her troupe realize that they were surrounded by probably the best of the best in both circles.

Cairne swore he could hear an announcer in his voice prattling off the big names: In one corner, reigning champions, The King's Guard, The Serpents, The Shadow King's Men, Lady Cinnamon's girls... in the other, and contender, Gypsy troupe # 5. Rumble tonight at the Royal Gala. Bring beer! And hide your jewels. Did they -- or she, as it appeared that only one was blantly stealing -- really think they could try that in territory that wasn't theirs?

The Ram's face beneath his mask curled into perhaps a cold grin. Glancing around with but his icy eyes, he noticed a few faces that he knew, located a few key figures, and then stepped into the throng of the crowd. He weaved and danced, politely stepping aside, even playing the part as a pick up partner in one of the many dancing steps before in one quick motion...he grabbed Lady Luck's wrist, made a quick motion to spin her about and feigned like he was going to dance with her. A dance wouldn't be bad, but the Ram really had other plans. "My, my... Lady luck herself, in the flesh. I would have thought such a dame would be frightened to walk among the living with a reputation as yours.... " His eyes sang of warning and promise of violence, but his voice was sweet as summer honey. "Yet such a reknown lady presses her luck with bobbles and trinkets and leaves yet the crowned prize untouched! Such a disgrace for one with reputation for leaving men broken and baren. "

Reoakee

krusnik05

Azreth watched the Raven move off towards the Duke, green eyes narrowed slightly. He had seen Zel look down at Noah's signature, and decided that he probably needed to explain some things to his two friends after the party was over. Deciding it would be best if he continued greeting those who had yet to see him, the King elegantly bowed away from Noah and continued making his rounds. He nodded and grinned at those who said a kind word, or traded niceties here and there as he made a beeline for one of the High Tables, finding himself rather thirsty. He passed the Ram with Lady Lucky, and continued on by for a few paces before he paused.

The King frowned and turned around, green eyes resting on the man in the Ram costume. Something inside of him was screaming danger -- not an immediate threat, no, but one like that of a glacier, slowly moving, grinding down even the toughest stone with an unrelenting forward momentum. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Azreth made to walk over to the pair, wanting to figure out why in the Nine Hells he was getting such a bad feeling, when a hand reached out from the crowd and gripped his shoulder, turning him around.

Altais offered the girl a slight shrug, knowing that she had absolutely no idea what he did for a living. "Business is going as well as can be expected this time of year. We're in a bit of a slump currently, especially due to this party, but soon things will pick back up." He smiled warmly down at her. "I will be forever grateful when the shirt is completed, my Lady. I must admit, I do have such an affinity for clever little pockets." The Demon winked at her, and movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

The King had stopped and was scrutinizing Cairne, and as he made his way to go over to him, Altais placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards Pykichi. "Majesty, have you met this darling little thing? One of the best seamstresses on this floating rock, you know." He saw the man frown and look once again towards the Ram before remembering his manners.

"I have, actually." Azreth smiled at the girl and took her hand, bowing over it. "Pleasure to see you again, Pykichi. I trust that business is going well?"

The glare directed at him was ignored. Yes, Zel probably hadn't been quite as polite as he should have in this situation, but given that the man just signed 'Murderer' AND the King had inside knowledge into this, the Alchemist and Chancellor to the Crown and Island decided that this information was in a Need-to-Know basis. Right now? He didn't need to know. In fact, he figured he didn't even want to ever know. That little bubble of intuition had been telling him that he wouldn't like the explanation.


"Really? Dang. I was hoping for at least a name. He seems like he'd be a fun pub mate. " Alas... it was probably for the best. After all...the two cousins were on opposites sides. .. oh and familiy feuds tended to last for decades with this family ...not that it really mattered or was needed information.

It didn't really matter, he was being grilled on what type of potions he had on him at the moment--it made him grin beneath that mask. With a twinkle in his green eyes, Zel patted himself down and thought aloud, "Salty? I might have the salty one on me. Then again, I have this new one that I'm not quite sure what it does. It was supposed to be a mongoose, but I might have mixed it up and made it something completely different. It has a bit of a mucusy twang to it. Can't pinpoint the flavor though. " Somehow the alchemist pulled out two vials. A swirly orange and black one that was the nice salty drink, another was just some weird looking red and some sort of orange but not quite orange color. Mystery potion. Oooh~

With a ceremony consisting of only ' Ta-daaaaa', he held them out for The Grand Duke, Master Potion Taster, Edward to pick his--er--- poison.

If Edward was slinky, Azreth was twisty, Zel was most certainly more drifty. He drifted after Ed with the biggest smile on his face. Not that much could be seen beneath that mask of his, but still it showed in his posture and the way his feathers almost floofed up proudly. This was a new potion! He had to see what it would do.

The floating bit was normal.So was the whole delayed pop that most of the shrinking or growth potions had. What he hadn't expected was what the orangy potion hid in the murcurial depths. "Oooh! " he exclaimed, mostly to himself and to not alarm those that were around the punch bowl... Cause, dude, there was a salamander swimming in the drink. The spiked punch bowl, Zel mentally noted with a raising of an eyebrow, and a physical tilt of his head. He truely looked like a curious bird when he did that. "I dare say, I didn't expect a Salamander in the Punch bowl. At least we won't be picking fur out of our teeth, eh? "

Gods, it was adorable! ...Now how long did this one last? Probably an hour at least. Muwaaahahaha. Zel really felt quite proud of himself for this one.

Believing that perhaps Lady Luck would prowl around for more dances, minimum finger twitching to assist a few nobles of the new blood in removing a small item to lighten their burden for the night, was surprised when her wrist was grabbed by some unknown gentleman and turned as if she was going to be pulled in to a dance. Kali looked at the gentleman who spoke to her, her eyes flashing with fire at his words yet her lush lips formed a cat like smile.

Dropping to a perfect curtsy, the gypsy female raised a brow her eyes becoming sharp. ”Well my lord, there are times when one has to come among the living as a respite from being a phantom to those that wish for luck.” One would have to be an idiot to not note the warning that was in the gentleman’s eyes and the deceptively sweet voice. Kali wasn’t an idiot. Being Romani taught you a good deal of caution and of course reading people. Those who told ‘fortunes’ and read from the tarot cards knew how to read people so it was only right that everyone else did even if Kali didn’t dabble in such nonsense.

More to the point Kali was calm and cool, her smile becoming sweeter but her eyes sharp and cautious. Tilting her head to the side her hair swayed gently and leaned close to the gentleman. ”You speak of which you don’t know sir. Though if you would give me a dance then perhaps I might indulge you for a bit until you tire of this game. Unless of course one such as yourself is too far above dancing with Lady Luck?” She chuckled softly. Kali doubted this gentleman would take her up on a dance.

It was dangerous and perhaps others would find that she was out of her mind to dally with an obvious threat in the form of this male but alas one couldn’t stop living because of it. No, she would only take this as far as she was willing to go. The gypsy wasn’t here to cause trouble and ruin the night for everyone, especially when the King is hosting it. The last thing she wanted was to be her liege’s bad side. Rather it was either the good or being ignored side she would prefer. Except for this male. ”Your name sir for its odd to be the only referred to by my name and you as a mystery. Especially one who speak s with assumptions about these broken and barren men. I assure you they are not left in neither state unless…..They earned it.” The author knows it’s a morbid way of thinking for this young woman.

Ah, a true gypsie, he mused to himself, but kept a firm grip upon her before actually dancing with her. He had her here, why not? Plus there were unwanted eyes on him. It was time to blend in and pretend he belonged here more than the King.

Those sharp eyes brought a soft laugh to his throat. "So the fair dame dances with those that summoned and bleed for her? You are a kind goddess indeed. A simple Ram like I dabbles in 'Chance' more than luck, but I'm sure your sibling wouldn't mind I borrow you for a bit? " Ah, and she could play the game as well. Was she testy? Indeed, but just how testy could he make her before she spilled her little stash of stolen jewels? While Cairne didn't like the new nobels that were popping up, finding them absolutely no fun to steal from at all, he did have a sense of honor. Didn't the Romani know not to steal at an event such as this? Apparently this one was too young to know, or just never listened. Perhaps the later was more true than now.

His smile grew wider as she proclaimed suddenly that he didn't know what he spoke of. Of course he did. He was The Shadow King. He ran the knight and knew every secret. He could walk through the castle, take the crown, the jewels, and the ledgers of blood and walk out the front door with nae a scratch on his hide nor soul. An exaggeration of course, but he was legendary. Legends did get away from themselves...And he only really took a couple of books and maybe a few tiaras from the vaults. "Your elders may have claim to inventing the game, but truely my blood perfected it. " He offered his hand to her. Indeed he was going to dance with the fool. And his valuables? Home. Oh, sure he had some useless trinkets and shiny bobbles on him. Stained glass jewels didn't ever sell much, but they did look pretty in a purse. The Ram leaned close to the girl's ear, "My dearest Lady Luck, I flirt with Death. A dance with you won't kill me. "

A simple easy dance came over the floor. No it wasn't difficult to hold a conversation with. Thankfully they hadn't heard any of the newer music from Below that had a bit more kick to it. The question of his name came over the music. That menacing aura of his vanished almost instantly. Ah, he had been getting ahead of himself, hadn't he? And this one was filled with a sense of self-rightiousness... "I am but a Ram content to steal the hearts of those around me, not the jewels in their purses... Be they deserving of a bit of involuntary wealth distribution or not. I would return them before someone calls 'thief'. " He laughed, a soft guffah of genuine humor, "The wealthy do not part quietly with gifts 'borrowed' from a pretty lady, especially one that roams in a caravan. If I recall, wasn't the pentalty for theivery quite severe? " He asked as though he had forgotten.

Actually, he had. Cairne hadn't been caught in a long, long time. Had the penalty lessened since his escape? Or was he thinking of another land? Surely a missing hand was the way it was? Perhaps he was thinking of another country he traveled to recently. It all blended together, "But what does worry me, " he stated plainly, forgoing fancy words for the time being to punch in a fair and friendly warning amongst thieves, "Is why a Romani as well-to-do as yourself would dare steal when there are The Shadow King's men, The Black Serpent's, Night Guard, and Royal Guards intermingled in the crowd watching and counting their money... "

Around this point in the conversation where he warned her, he would adjust her hands, subtly, to keep away from where he kept his 'valuables' in case her fingers got itchy. It was as simple as changing direction and listening to the music. The Ram was leading, and he could dance quite well, thank you very much. And he wanted to get them away from the stupid blonde boy's annoying glare.... Which reminded Cairne, he should 'borrow' the boy's mask right off his face to prove a point. He'd do that after he finished giving the girl a firm warning. For now though, he would watch the crowd out of the corner of his eyes as those cold, crystal blue eyes gazed from his mask to the Lady Luck before him. Heck, even his posture and pose screamed that he belonged in this world the way he easily guided them through the crowd of other swirling and dancing colors.

In the back of his mind, Cairne had a good hunch that Altias was going to chew him out for his brash action. Oh well. The old demon could deal with the boy for a bit that he saw so fondly.



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Now, by the punchbowl, Zel was blinking. He let out an involuntary giggle when the little darling Salamander 'hiccuped'. He even let out a 'Dawwww!'. Wait, the little thing shouldnt' stay in there long. Osmosis and what not. He glanced around and scrambled for a cup or something to transfer the Salamander into. Carefully, he clicked his tongue and dipped the open end of the glass a quarter way into the tainted punch. With the other hand he now tried to guide the Salamander in there with the punch ladle, "Oh gods, you're drunk already! C'mere...lets...like move you out of there so you don't have an accident in there. "