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Newton (Ransomite)

"Emain Ablach?" Ransomite had looked down at the envelope in his hand, one eyebrow slowly rising. It had just... appeared in front of him when he'd donned dress for his evening duties. It looked fancy. Very fancy.

Intriguingly fancy.

So, naturally, he'd accepted the invitation, decided to call himself 'Newton'--look, it was a joke on his Confirmation name okay he thought it was funny--and mulled over this 'masquerade' invitation.

So, naturally, he'd gone for the most over-the-top outfit he could think of that would still fulfill the 'formal dress' requirement. Harnesses were apparently a fashion thing these days, and Ransomite would never turn down the chance to wear one.

Even if he normally wore one under much... different circumstances...

The tux over it was normal enough, he guessed, except for the shoulder pieces and tie. Either way, he'd given himself a look-over in the mirror. Very nice, very snazzy.

And now he was here, sipping fancy champagne that swirled in a most peculiar fashion. But no one else seemed to be dying from it, so he figured it safe enough to drink. It tasted pretty okay, at least.

This left Ransomite looking out over the crowd, scanning and knowing full well that masks meant he was unlikely to recognize anyone.

Uhntiss (Encke)

Frankly, Encke didn't understand how anyone couldn't appreciate Britney--

They could listen to more Britney at the studio. "Think your mother will let us blast some Britney from the float?" asked Encke, glancing up and grinning at the thought. Maybe they could go ahead and play Toxic itself. He was fairly sure they could think of something rather sexy for that...

Mm--

Focus, Encke.

"Yeah. Curious as to why it's such a big deal itself. Maybe we'll find some interesting things there." From space. From different cultures that he had never had a chance to see in space.

"Maybe we'll find something from your wonder?"

Seemed like a fat chance, but maybe. After all, they had gotten invited here before.

... Before?

Encke shook his head out of whatever thought that was, gesturing for Basiluzzo to follow him to the Gallery.

[ Exiting to the Gallery ]

The decision to move from the Foyer into the Gallery had long since been made for her. Though uncertainty may have been with her for a brief moment, the thrum of the crowd had already begun to coax and jostle her forward. The Red Prince was to unintentionally partake in this unspoken encouragement and while his jolt wasn't unexpected he had been the first to apologise.

She was caught off guard, glancing up suddenly to take in the man who had brushed passed her. His tone had been a strange one and as she took in the similar sheen of red locks to her own, she had to conclude that on this occasion he may have been one of those types who functioned on autopilot as opposed to paying attention.

...You know, those moments (brief as they were) when you might simply receive an automatic response rather than one that required any genuine thought. Not a slight on his part of course, the fact he was even predisposed to such a thing indicated he'd at least been raised right!

If only she'd known who was actually beneath that mask; contrary to what Arthur had said she felt nothing odd about anyone here, comforting or otherwise. Magical as the place might be it seemed that like her, everyone seemed normal.

"It's fine," she replied as she gave a wave of her hand, electing to embrace the motion of the crowd and move as directed into the Gallery. "It's so busy it was going to happen anyway," she smiled, though the Prince already seemed to have turned his attention elsewhere.



Moving into the Gallery.

αρπάζω

αρπάζω pursed her lips at the other girl, considered her for a moment, considered ignoring her altogether, then with a dip of her head and a squaring of her shoulders, chose to speak. "I'm sorry for interrupting." That much needed to be said.

"But I can take knowledge with me anywhere. I don't need to take anything from here to do that.

"I do, however, need to know what the symbols say — how they corroborate with our native language." For this, αρπάζω turned toward the last Chauvet, her body language at once shifting to an urgent stoop. Manners. Remember manners. Not everyone likes to get to the point. "My name is Ampersand Kumquat." She paused, her face rankling into a knot, and she straightened abruptly. Shaking her head, she tried again. "That's… Nevermind. Call me αρπάζω. I'd love to hear more about your wonder and what you've done with it over the years. The ball is… Absolutely breathtaking." And eerie, she decided, for how normal it felt.

Maybe a different Pavo was here years ago, in some different part of the past that no longer mattered anymore. Far enough back, far enough away, and αρπάζω thought that such histories couldn't possibly matter. How could they? How could a masquerade on Chauvet impact Earth history, incite a war, invent new technology that people depended on today?

But the feeling was there, weak and wanting. It promised her something in a language too soft for her to hear. It was encouraged only by this Chauvet's decidedly unfunny joke, as if hinting closer at that great mystery, and to that, αρπάζω gave a slow nod.

"Of course." She plucked one of the glasses from the tray, gave it a raised brow, and elected not to comment on it. She raised it in a polite sip, and coincidentally, felt a rush of homesickness — but not for a place she knew.

Pearl

The hour she was there passed in a glittering haze of excitement and wonder. The crumbling state of the place was hardly noticed when there was so much still there to admire, and so many people looking like Lords and Ladies from a fairytale. Princes and Princesses maybe, she had no way to know. She was very careful though, to be very polite to anyone she happened into as she wandered about the outskirts of the foyer. They could be faeries, and anyone who knew the stories knew faeries could be quite awful if you made them mad at you.

Silent save for the swishing of her heavy, encumbering skirts, Pearl happily ignored the mundane-ness of the pizza offered at the party in favor of enjoying free food. Her mom still cooked for her, when she was home of course, but she’d heard more than enough jokes about her hollow legs and how often she was hungry. Free food was never amiss.

After a while, someone offered her a cup of wine. It took a bit of long, solemn thought before Pearl took the cup. Teeth worrying her lip, she considered the glittery contents as they caught the lights above.

She had just turned twenty one this year, and the idea of drinking was still odd to her. It had never interested her, truly. Anything with alcohol tasted awful… why would anyone drink enough of it for it to do anything? Maybe whatever it was it did was enough to make it worth the effort… but she had little to go on beyond sips of things her parents had had at parties. The sip she took of the cup she held was very small, and a bit exploratory. The taste was… odd. She couldn’t place it or liken it to anything she’d had before. It wasn’t… bad, really. She wasn’t honestly sure how she felt about it.

Cradling the cup in her hands, she took another small sip, shuffling out of the foyer and through the large doors to the side. There was a lot more to see of this wonderful place, not just the front room. A flicker around the corners of her eyes went unnoticed, though everything had a bit of a warm glow to it.

[ Exit to the Gallery ]

Cranberry

Mirth unfurled in Cranberry's chest like a bloom. Her name! He actually got her name!

Well, it was only an alias, but the was the closest thing to a name he'd get in this situation. In contrast to his tepid greeting, this was felt like leaps and bounds.

His arms remained laced behind his back, but Cranberry wanted nothing more than to take her hand and brush a kiss on her wrist. It would've been a smooth greeting if he had the guts to actually go through with it. Instead, he lingered, unable to make eye contact as his heart beat like a drum.

"N-nice to meet you?" he said, before clearing his throat. "I mean, I mean, it's a pleasure to meet you, The Tree Speaker. I'm, ah, Campus. K-Krampus. Can Man. Uh. Just—Cranberry. Call me Cranberry." He rocked back on his heels. "Are you, ah, enjoying the party? I-it's a good party... I think."

a-disgruntled-dragon

someone save these hopelessly romantic children cries

Sonic

Half of his mouth crooked upward in a lazy smile when she gave him a good once over. Taking it as welcome permission, green eyes raked across the woman's frame slowly, the grin on his mouth spreading in approval. He appreciated the way her dress still showed off the goods even if they put them in a bit of a box.

He stepped forward, spine straightening to show her just how tall he was, easily dwarfing most that occupied the room.

"Boston--" He tried to say, brow furrowing and that grin of his slipping into a frown when he wrinkled his nose. "That's not-- Cotton."

Okay so trying to say his name wasn't working. He'd had to think of something to offer her instead.

With a dry, rather annoyed laugh he tried, "Sonic. Call me sonic."