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Resilience

It was curious sensations that distracted him, the sound of a laugh and a hum...and the feeling of something moving past them. He blinked for a moment, his gaze following the direction of whatever might have just moved past them, and when he saw nothing at first he turned back to Observer. "I don't think it'd hurt us much to walk around until we found--"

He was cut off by the host in question, as it were, so he quieted and looked on as Genevieve spoke. When time came his eyes moved to opening doors and soon landed on Chauvet, the name sounding familiar though he couldn't quite place it. Or her. Maybe it was the fancy garb. But when wine was mentioned he gave his partner a little nudge. "Guess we found the drinks. Why don't we grab some and take a look around; we can always dance later."

Resilience

He chuckled at the term and followed her lead, finding it a bit curious that the Sun was following the Moon in this particular instance.

[ Exit to Gallery ]

αρπάζω

αρπάζω roused from her speculation over the portraits when a voice broadcasted over the gallery. She straightened, eyes combing the crowd as her hand curled unknowingly against her chest. Someone called to each of them about ancient artifacts. Curated pieces of the past.

That someone looked not-quite-here, like αρπάζω could push a hand through her the same way she could push a hand through air. She looked nearly gone. And she sounded like she knew this place long before, when it wasn't being used like a party hall for what αρπάζω assumed was a teenager. Maybe a college co-ed by the music choice, she wasn't sure. Her certainty lay more with the half-vanished youth who spoke of gallery curation and champagne and pretentious presentation.

She would likely be the rosetta stone. If she was so old, she could tell αρπάζω who these portraits were and how to read this strange font. She had to be, right?

αρπάζω broke away fro the portraiture to cross the emptying foyer, where the ghost till stood wearing a mixed expression. Someone else was there with her, but that someone else could wait. Whatever questions the girl in the red dress was asking, αρπάζω was sure they had no groundbreaking ramifications and that this girl couldn't make a whole new career on them. So αρπάζω stepped into the conversation, feigning unwittingness, and addressed this half-there woman.

"Are you familiar with those portraits?" Pavo pointed, arm stretched, toward her old location. "There's a placard beneath them with a language I've never seen before. I'd like to know about it. Do you have a moment to tell me?" She'd never been to a place like this, never found much romance in earth-esque locations that were closer to the stars, but she invested greatly into what this ghost would say.

Cranberry

Cranberry was completely out of his element. He didn't... do... parties, even it proved a curious venture to travel to a another place in space (someplace he'd never been!) and see elements of other worlds. Were he a chibi, he'd gallantly be romping around the foyer asking people their names or aliases or whatever it was that provided anonymity, but as an awkward teen who barely hold hands with a girl?

Ahhh, yea. Not so much.

He lingered in the foyer, taking in his surroundings instead of venturing forth in the deeper parts of the the building. The mask upon his face felt itchy; his attire too tight. To say Cranberry was a a little nervous would be underestimating the truth, but he appeared thus as he scoped the area as if on a mission. The last thing he wanted to do was appear a wallflower, so he mingled by not mingling; just walking about and taking in the costumes and the masks.

Of all things, he wondered who was who as his red eyes drifted above to the nebula-covered dome. Were they really all people from the stars? Who can say...

Quote:

dlfkgjkf
i'm here, i'm here. meant to post in this earlier but got sidetracked by sads.
this boi is open for interaction!

Reaper (Labyrinthite)

Her comments earned a tugging of his lips that seemed to soften the warning of his smile and for a moment he looked as if he could be something other than the sharp edges he'd cultivated for himself. "Who's to say that's not the intent?" A rare hint of mirth lined his tone as his touch shifted, fingers splaying along her elbow and down the inside of her wrist until slipping beneath her fingers to raise her hand towards his lips.

The ghost of a kiss to the back of her hand was a gesture that might have seemed too soft, too ill-fitting for a man who made himself infamous for the danger he could bring, but Reaper had been raised by a man who'd groomed him to play all kinds of games and this was no different. As finely dressed as he was, Reaper could ooze devilish charm with the hint of danger and trouble lurking around the corner with the best of them.

"Weren't you listening?" He asked, adding a playful lilt to his voice before he dropped her hand and smoothed out his suit while his gaze flicked over towards the top of the stairs. "Magic, seems to be the culprit." His voice lowered, disdain wrapping around the word magic though he managed to say it without spitting.

Magic was a variable he could never account for no matter how well planned his endeavors were and he only had so much of it, and power, at his disposal as he was.

Enchantress // Corrupt Meridiana

Meridiana, or the Enchantress as it were, was about to make her way towards the newly opened gallery when the sound of a young man’s voice caught her attention. While she assumed the statement was meant for someone else, she indulged her curiosity and turned around to see how this engagement would turn out.

However, rather than seeing a couple about to go frolic among the masses, her gaze instead fell on a taller man with green gem colored eyes. She canted her head to the side ever so slightly as she turned to face him more fully.

“Oh?” She paused for a brief moment, taking in his suit and tie, as well as the well-placed curls atop his head. She had to hand it to whomever this cosmic hairdresser and clothing designer was because he looked damn fine. Whoever was responsible for the powered uniforms clearly needed to take some notes.

The corrupts eyes were alight with an amused gleam. “Do I now?” She asked with an almost purr to her voice as she took a step towards him. “With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

Crystal
"No, they really don't hurt at all, it's just -- " Crystal got about halfway through a sentence before this new woman, this interloper, broke into the conversation like it was nothing; she stuttered and stopped, fighting the urge to twine her fingers through her hair in something a little like misery and a little more like indignant anger.

It would look poorly upon her if she lost her temper, here, and for now that was enough of a reminder to hold her desires in check.

"What does it matter to you? It's not like you can take them with you, when we all leave. And I guess some champagne couldn't hurt."

December Snowflake (Idavollr)

Saffron had spent the time since awakening into Idavollr pretty much trying to forget that it had ever happened. After all it hadn't been that long after the whole botanical garden mess - the one that had been somehow been invaded by giant spiders and she had been working late and therefore was tired and so it was perhaps understandable that she had had a moment - especially given that she had been under stress at the time–

Stress in the form of yet another spider.

Denial had carried her through a the better part of a year and a half, although there had been a single blip in the form of the crazy weather.

It had only been a single blip however, which was why she had been understandably surprised when the strange invitation had appeared out of nowhere.

It was something that she had hesitated over, because it seemed like strangeness of the Idavollr variety and thus was not really conducive to ignoring the whole Idavollr thing, but eventually curiosity had won out.

Which was how Idavollr had found herself here - although the Polaris Page still wasn't quite too sure just where here was.

Despite that however, she seemed dressed for the part, with the beautiful fur-trimmed gown something that probably wouldn't look out of place in Frozen, a silver half-mask obscuring her face–

And it seemed that she was late - fashionably late - but late nonetheless, with things apparently in full flow.

For now Idavollr (or rather December Snowflake) decided that she would stay in the foyer, although maybe after better getting her bearings she would check out the open double doors located at the other end of the hall.