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Alois Scholz; 14 to persuade; quote Hetzerei when addressing him.
Alois, crowned with life and death, looks like an ill-informed interpretation of a tribal witchdoctor. He appears obviously uncomfortable with the nature of the robe he wears, and how it exposes his chest with no option of buttons or cinchers. The red paint on his chest echoes a ribcage. His arms are often folded over the pale display, and it keeps him perpetually uncomfortable.

alois scholz (unmasked) || 25/25 || being a ragemuffin

“I’f told you before, it’s just Scholz. And I wasn’t expecting to be here. Nothing about me screams ‚I want to go to an utterly pretentious and banal ball‘. Or ********… Whatever zis is. A robe? Who ze ******** wears a robe out in public?“ He huffed, a faint snarl threatening to slip from his grasp.

Slowly he drew a breath. He sallowed. He reminded himself that spiking his blood pressure offered no advantages here. The Burning Man would have his way regardless. Dead or alive. „I can’t stay long; I’f got b***h work to do. Tell me - haf’ you choked to deat’ on zat palpably petulant posh atmosphere up zere? I feel like it’s caked to my tongue from just passing srough ze ivory halls.“

Finn Derouen | 25/25 | Arriving

Leaving Tate behind, Finn set his mind to finding someone he knew - and his mind steered him away from the party and down into the cellar. It wasn't clear whether this was meant to be open to the public or not, though there did seem to be signs of a tasting in progress. That much he could see from the bottom of the stairs. He could also see the floor, which seemed to demand the touch of his bare feet.

Before moving forward, Finn made the executive decision to remove his shoes. The feel of the loamy dirt between his toes suggested he had not been wrong to. He set his fine faerie booties by the stairs, helped himself to a glass of wine (giving the taxidermy crow an odd look - the work seemed familiar) and proceeding into the cellar, where he very quickly came across Alois, unmasked, and already conversant with someone else.

"Alois - Going native?" Finn asked, sipping his wine. Never mind that the Faerie glamour had left Finn himself equally bare, just in a less macabre way.

(He had not had anything to eat so far tonight. This would be interesting.)

alois scholz (unmasked) || 25/25 || chainsaw everyone and chainsaw everything

“No, it’s not dead enough for my tastes, and I’m really not looking forward for ze end of it when it does become dead enough for my tastes. Understand?“ Normally Alois endured Ashton’s dry bite with more grace and patience, but this wasn’t normally. No, this was far from normally. Normally never left him running back and forth delivering wine to a man on fire while he wore a spider on his head and the sluttiest robes anyone ever imagined. He looked like some kind of gothic brothel whore.

„Yes, please, find me a shirt, and someone I can murder wis’ my bare hands.“ Alois returned to his pacing, each step carrying him beyond rows of barrels and bottles and labels. Each pace a step back in time.

Alois knew the voice the second he heard it - Finn’s unique timbre was not easily forgotten. He turned toward the park ranger and paused, his hand pressed firmly against the underside of a bottle. It was unclear whether he clutched it for support or for a precursor to a projectile. His knuckles pinched white under the pressure. „Yes, I’m going ******** natif’,“ he responded with vitriol, „and zey did zis because zey know I hate looking half-naked in front of anyone, and I’m going to break every ******** bottle in here over hot daddy’s head until he burns ze ******** out! Where is July? Is she even here? Haf’ you seen-„

Yet another voice called for him and startled him out of his impromptu rage. He sighed to himself, collecting his senses. „What is it, Rabid? Did you bring any ******** cigarettes?“

alois scholz (unmasked) || 25/25 || having a Bad Day

Alois sighed. „Sounds like zey haven’t got a whole lot of imagination. Whole lot of Body Snatchers bullshit.“ Covering his mouth, Alois considered some of the bottles on the opposite end of the room. One of them he recognized by icon alone - menage-a-trois.

Of course, he thought bitterly.

„No, I haven’t read a single word since I was taken. Haf’ you seen zose old cartoons where jailbirds smack rocks wis’ pickaxes all day? Zat’s been my life ever since. Wis’ a little bit of refreshing torment from July. But complaining about it doesn’t reverse it - and it doesn’t do anysing for my position now. I’m sure you’f heard, right? Someone has to die. I don’t know who. I’f heard some sings, but not much. Zey keep me too busy running back and fort’. But… I don’t know. It might be me. It might be all of us. But if zey sink zey can just toss me onto a bonfire and watch me burn, zey’ll be damned sorry for it first.“

Alois resumed his pacing. „An if zey’re just reenacting what happened to you, zen everyone here is at risk. Who even comes to ******** Faerie balls anyway? It sounds like such a crock of s**t. It sounds like an absint’e party. Come see ze Green Fairy! ******** ridiculous…“

"They were taken," Autumn said flatly, sipping at her drink. She'd picked up bits and pieces running her errands, and the information she was getting was sobering. Staring at her drink, Autumn sighed.

"I don't think you're the tithe? From what I've heard, they're after one of the deer triplets... or someone who was once human, but isn't anymore. Unless you've sprouted wings and I can't tell, I think you're alright." Another drink, and she looked over to Finn. With an acknowledging head nod, she continued.

"Keep your mask on. It's some magical bullshit keeping us safe."

Finn Derouen | 25/25 | Doing a mental jigsaw puzzle w/ Alois and Autumn

Finn raised a hand to his mask, brushing against the black lace. It had no proper eyeholes, but something about the enchantment meant he could see just fine - he didn't appreciate the costume as a whole, but he could be thankful for small concessions.

"Will do," he said, giving Autumn a slightly odd look. Perhaps he should have mingled more and spent less time trying to catch up with Tate. (Finn was always, invariably, that guy at parties, who paid attention first and foremost to people he already knew.)

Taken, he thought, looking back at Alois. Like Tate had been. She'd clammed up when he asked if she could leave... but maybe Alois would answer?

"It's just until after the ball, right?" he asked. "Then you can go home?"

Tate, he thought darkly, had not been wearing a mask.