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"Tickets please! I need to see your tickets!" A uniformed woman boomed, her voice so massively loud that she didn't even need a megaphone.

Outside the extravegant mansion people filed in dressed in their most finest, and most unqiue masks and ball gowns. Hundreds of yards of lace, satin, silk, ribbons and beads walked by that evening and into the mansion. All showing their golden tickets off as proof that they were supposed to be there.

"TICKETS!!!" The woman yelled again. No one would pass her without one.

Ashamed of her rather modest attire, Andriana stood behind one of the mansion's many columns, simply observing. Many of the more prominent figures sidled past her, snubbing their noses at the supposed street urchin. Some muttered about how security should take care of trespassers.

Eventually, Andriana decided that she could hide no longer. She quickly and silenty strode towards the uniformed woman, ignoring the gasps and whispers.

"Uhmm, uhh...excuse me, Miss?" she said, wincing slightly as the booming voice invaded her ears. The woman seemed distracted. "I'd....I...MISS!" she finally said more confidently. The woman looked down her nose at Andriana.

"I have my ticket..." she sputtered, still uncomfortable in her "nice" street clothing. She slid the ticket out from her pocket, slightly tattered but unmistakable.

Qadir stood outside the mansion for quite some time, his gold-dripped eyes glittereing in the low glow of the lights and observing the mass of people milling about, showing their tickets and making their way into the home. Honestly, the man wasn't too sure why he was even here. When he'd returned home he'd found a golden ticken inside of the bag with the cup and although he didn't think much of it at first, he'd later discovered the address and times of a grand ball that would be occuring.

Now, there were many things that Qadir could avoid in life, blood being one of them, but there were other things that he simply couldn't escape. Balls, a masquerade ball at that, was one thing Qadir would actually go out of his way to attend. And thus why he was now standing outside, twirling his mask in his hands and smiling at everyone as they passed. He thought that the joker-esque theme of the mask fit in well with his demeanor, and the black with gold thread truly matched the rest of his attire.

Qadir wore an old Victorian type suit, a black vest buttoned up the front was covered in swirling, gold thread designs was hung over a collared white shirt that puffed out in white lace out of the edge of his long black jacket. A black tie with golden studs stuck out against his throat and sharply set off a grand contrast between his copper skin, gold speckled amber eyes and his wavy black hair accented with those gold streaked bangs. Black slacks and black dress shoes almost completed the garb, but honestly, what man looked complete without a cane and a cape? Certainly not Qadir. A black velvet cape with gold silk inlay draped over his shoulders while a black cane with a gold serpant design rests in his free hand and rose to hights that measured just above his waist.

Finally the man deemed it time to enter the ball so will a quick flash of his ticket to the woman supervising everything he entered into the hub-ub.

The woman with the booming voice gave a nod to each as they passed by. Even at a close range her voice was terrifyingly loud, "You can go through!" Oddly enough she was kinda on the short side.

As Adrian and Amryx passed, however the woman commented with something else, "It's nice to see parents disciplining their kids these days." And laughed, letting the people behind them pass through.

“Oh, drat…where am I going?”

“A better question would be: where are you taking me?”

Mary stood down the road from the mansion, too absorbed in her attempts to find the home to realize that it was really only a few paces down. Standing on the street she looked out of place, both her and her charge, whom stood askance at her side. A passerby may have mistaken them for the enchanted folk of old had word of the masquerade not gotten out.

Amahté picked casually at his ‘clothes’, which really only consisted of an elaborate loincloth and an even more elaborate mask – the boy’s face was barely visible beneath the jaguar-headed hood, its paws thrown over his shoulders, the fur that lined it as black as night. Teeth edged the cats brightly painted red lips, and under its heavy brow did Amahté’s green eyes pierce through. The cloth banded at his waist looked thick and heavy, but was belted with thin rope, golden beads strung across the area where his nonexistent hips were. He wiggled his bare toes against the cool road, a faint sneer quirking either side of his mouth; the white of his teeth flashed from beneath the dark of the mask.

“I know where it is.”

Mary spun upon the child, skirts whispering their ascent and descent through the air, “Where?”

The boy looked her up and down, considered an answer, jaw moving as though he were tasting each word before he spoke. He moved his gaze elsewhere as though bored.

“Amahté! Be fair!”

She couldn’t see it, but she knew one of his brows had swept upwards; he still refused to look at her.

“…Please?”

“Please what?” he drawled, with a dark amusement that did not suit the high voice of a young child.

Mary scowled, her brows drawing inwards. Her lips quivered and she bowed beneath his words – this was ridiculous. Never should a person, especially a little boy, have such an iron hold over a grown woman. It wasn’t fair, and it should have been outlawed…but against the Scent, she knew she really couldn’t win. Was she weak? Or was he really just that overpowering…

“You’re taking to long. Your answer can wait…it’s down the road.” He flicked his hand, motioning somewhere over her shoulder; Mary turned around…

…And immediately smacked her forehead.

The sound of chattering erupted as if her discovery had turned flicked the ‘on’ switch. People were bustling before the doors dressed so extravagantly that she, for once, didn’t feel so bad for splurging on herself and her belligerent ‘son’. It was a fine dress and mask, she had decided, the former as elaborate as possible and the latter made of such dark violet velvet that it was almost black. The brocade was low and laced beautifully in interweaving patterns that snaked in and out of one another down to her navel. Her skirts, like iridescent drapes, were illuminated not unlike abalone, cascading to her feet and covered modestly by a throw of velvet. Her dark silk gloves accented the dress and rose to mid bicep, and though it wasn’t too cold, she began to regret her lack of a shawl of some sort…being so bare of shoulder left her feeling more than a little half nude. She touched her abalone necklace for luck, and passed a hand over her wild curls – tamed back into a shy half braid – before stepping forward.

“Come on, Amahté!” she called, voice a warble like a bird’s; Amahté decided that her mask was quite suiting of her, as peacocks were ungodly loud. She smiled, red lips glittering beneath her mask, and offered him a hand – it was as if his ill-treatment of her had been forgotten. He stared.

And brushed right passed her, snatching the tickets from her fingertips.

“Come on, woman. No time for hesitating.”

Skie exited her coach, a bundle of nerves and excitement. It had been a long time since she'd been invited to such an elaborate and luxurious gathering. All around, she saw incredible outfits and elegant guests all making their way towards the main entrance. Shifting, she paused as she stood before her coach, wondering if this had been such a good idea. Sure, she’d been ecstatic when she’d received the letter notifying her of her invitation but now that she was about to set off into this sea of beauty, she found herself overcome with shyness.

Dressed for the event in an elegant black silk dress with a shawl that shimmered with the colours of twilight, she would fit in well enough. Her jewelry consisted of a single diamond pendant necklace that captured the light and glittered like a star upon her chest and a simple black mask studded with a small ruff of blueish feathers and crystals that matched her outfit. A gloved hand came up to seek support from that pendant, toying with it as he deep blue eyes settled on the guard that was checking for tickets.

Oh yes! That might be a good idea. She sorted through her purse, wishing that dresses came with pockets – wallets were so much more compact and easier to transport. Withdrawing the precious item, she frowned as she realized it was wrinkled even after all the care she’d taken to make sure it was kept safe. Biting her lip, she made a bit of a disappointed sound. Not much could be done about that now. She had the ticket and that’s what counted.

Behind her, the driver leaned over and gently tapped her shoulder, a bemused smile lighting up his face, “M’dear, you might want to get going. The party won’t wait for you.”

Jumping as he touched her, she half turned and chuckled, “You scared me.” Gaze drifting back to the other guests, she nodded, “I think you’re right. Thank-you very much!” Flashing a smile, she bowed slightly and moved off into the crowd. Making sure the guard clearly saw her ticket as she passed by, offering an appreciative smile in the process.

The silk scarf waved like a banner in the chilly night breeze as Yiiei made her way up the steps of the mansion. Her hands wrapping around her shoulders ever so often, with scarf in hand, to cover up what skin was showing. Her expression was hidden beneath her simple black mask, though it shone brilliantly with sapphire studs. It was not of a happy expression. She had been interested in the masquerade up until the point when she had heard that she was required to dress up a bit. She did not that idea. The young woman had spent several hours running around her home and shops trying to find a dress since there were none in her own closet. She had barely found one on time before she could throw her hair up and get ready.

Her feet wobbled shakily in slick black heels as she climbed the stairs. Her dark eyes peering out from behind the mask, unknowing what she was searching for or perhaps whom. Looking back to the front entrance, she brought her golden ticket and warmed her body once more. The ticket wavered in the breeze, trying to slip out of her grasp before she could hand it over to be admitted into the party. Her grip tightened as she took steps drawing her closer to the door until she was standing before loud woman screaming for tickets.

Propping out her hand, Yiiei handed the woman her ticket before being ushered into the mansion and then ignored. Warm, she brought down her hands and took confident steps with her head raised high to join the masquerade though underneath her brave facade she was trembling from nerves.

If the man could hear all the thoughts floating about him he would have laughed. There didn't seem to be many people comfortable coming out to a place like this, dressed in such flashy attire. It would have been terribly depressing to find all these things out, for Qadir happened to be quite the crazy that lived for things like this. Although Qadir didn't dress like this everyday, he would in a heartbeat if it was the norm. He mourned almost every morning not being able to wear such wonderful things every day.

Too bad Qadir couldn't hear thoughts though, instead he felt the eyes of someone watching him. Being watched wasn't usually a good thing in Qadir's life, but he'd hoped that at such a ball he'd be safe. Slowly he took a gaze about, trying to find whatever had such a close watch on him, but all he could find was a boy with hair greener than ripe granny smith apples. Lifting a brow behind the mask, Qadir lifted a hand to wave at him, the two gold rings upon the hand glinting in the light.

At the commotion outside, Qadir felt himself jump and then laugh at himself. Shaking his head he watched the door for new people entering. Strangely, as much as he disliked being watched, the man loved to watch others, especially at the beginning of such wonderful events. First impressions were everything you know. But Qadir found he couldn't keep watching the door. Instead, he continued to look over his shoulder back to the child that watched him.