RP:The Gasquerade Ball

Summary: Lanara hosts a charity ball at the Elimdorei Hotel and Restaurant in Vhys, in hopes to raise funding for her animal sanctuary in Northern Sage Forest. Many attend the lavish affair, adorned in their finery, with masks covering their faces, providing an aire of mystery. Donations come pouring in, as expected, the drinks are flowing, and the food is delicious, however, things soon get out of hand. The 'his' and 'hers' best dressed winners are announced, Sara Grace (Valrae in disguise!) and Barnabas, and each are given an immortal panther cub as a prize. The unthinkable occurs center stage, as the masquerade attendees witness Barnabas defacate from eating too much pudding, only for Scandal to release a nerve gas, minutes later. Everyone screams in horror and flees to safety in fear that the establishment will blow up, the they will inhale nerve gas, be blinded by the fog, or that they stepped in loose bowels and not chocolate pudding! Seconds before Lanara leaves the restaurant, the 'stranger' she had spent most of the evening with tears off her mask, and it's discovered to have been Talyara in disguise, the whole time! The two witch sisters have reunited, and though the ball had a strange and smelly ending, the animal sanctuary will be well-off for quite some time, thanks to the generosity of the donors.

Room Description: The sun is beginning to set in the distance as those that wish to attend the charity event near the double doors to the Elimdorei Hotel. Upon handing their tickets to Sebestyen, and being removed of any weapons, they would then be ushered into the elegant restaurant. This particular establishment is the place that all the celebrities and wealthiest citizens of Vhys come to dine, and their often is a three month wait list, should one require a reservation. Somehow, the witch, Lanara, managed to book the place on short notice for a masquerade ball, in hopes of raising donations for her newly built animal sanctuary in Sage Forest. She even managed to strike a deal, so those that wish to spend the night in Vhys could rent a room at the hotel, for half price! All in all, two hundred tickets had been sold, and a few stragglers wait outside, hoping to bump into a scalper or sneak their way into the prestigious party. The attendees are dressed in their finest suits and ball gowns, each wearing a disguise of some sort, or an elegant mask. A few of the masks are merely colorful cover-ups of their faces, while others are that of exquisite beasts, or creatures of horror. Upon entering the restaurant area, a slew of waiters eagerly await direction, making certain to direct the attendees to a table for dining, the open bar for drinking, or towards the dance floor, for those that wish to truly get this party started. The spread of food at the buffet tables lacks for nothing, and it’s encouraged that one fill their plate as many times as they desire with the finest of food in the realm. A thick fog covers party-goers up to their knees, giving the event an aura of mystery, and a shimmering mirror is set up upon the small stage to the left. A plaque is set before the mirror and warns those that step through the portal that they will emerge on the other side of the mirror, exactly as what they are dressed as, with the effect lasting for three minutes. A spacious dance floor is in the center of the room, and a stage is beyond, with a live band of five handsome men setting up their instruments. Were those the members of the hottest musical group in the realm, The Backstreet Bards?! Silver and gold balloons and streamers hang from the ceilings, and there’s a centerpiece of crimson roses atop each table. To the far left of the room is a table covered with pictures of adoptable animals and applications, as well as a large jar, should any wish to give a donation or wish to add a furry member to their family.

Scandal (Post 1 of 2) entered the hotel early at request of his sister of whom he received the invitation by mail. The last time he had seen his sister it was under circumstances that Scandal hoped to forget. But that was a little more than a month ago. He had spent much time thinking about past actions, getting involved with Venturil natives, and by golly settling in the territory in his recently uncovered ancestral home. In addition to this, using a potion to dull the emotional attachment of his earlier memories, had left Scandal with feeling of being free from previous burdens. He hoped that this Ball would allow him to repair some damages dealt, as well try to put on a new face and new him. Having spent the money and paying a hefty sum to a wizard who was able to craft a gem pendant to relieve pain from his transformations, Scandal had been eager to try out the gem and had waited because the wizard said he couldn’t promise the gem working longer than a week. So having been able to find his humanish form that he had once worn, prior to all of this transformational decay Scandal at last found himself, being able to slip into a form with only the mildest of pains, and the minimum of sound effects from his body becoming the size he had once been.

Scandal (Post 2 of 2) had splurged on his outfit. He wore a silk tuxedo, his jacket an illustrious violet with gold trimmings his silken pants to match his outfit, around his head he wore a mask that covered the top half of his face. Hand crafted and inlaid with gold and ivory, in the shape of an avian creature, his long red hair flowed out from silken undermask, down to his shoulders. Every detail well groomed and trim. Many might not recognize him tonight, and if they didn’t what a way to introduce yourself. Standing 6’ bowing his head slightly at the door, the lavish set up and waited to be seated by the service provided. Holding his arm, was another such oddity, or rather his date that night. Standing just 4 inches under Scandal, the female was grey skinned beast like appearance, like a raptor from Venturil but upright and with the shape and posture of human. Minus for the tail and head structure which more like the Razurath she was. She wore a jumpsuit that was tight fitting, down to bare feet, and her wrists. Showing off just a bit of her generous bosom, she was after all an exotic from Venturil, and beautiful in Scandal’s eyes. Perhaps that was the dragon in him, or perhaps it was more of him just being a decent guy. She wore a wolf skin around her neck and had painted golden stripes along her neck, and beneath her grey eyes. Accompanying Scandal and her were the three massive Draconian Guards that Lanara had requested Scandal bring for extra security, who would remain on premise and out of sight until they were needed, and to Scandal’s hope would not be needed.

Talyara had only just returned to Lithrydel within the past couple of weeks after having spent the last several months traveling and living in her home village of Kelvar. She had found the autumnal town much different than the last time she had seen it; it was quite empty and only a few familiar faces still lingered. Yet they seemed relieved when they saw the younger witch who they presumed was dead at the hands of the drow patron who took over the town and subjected the coven to his violent tyranny. Madelyn was one such familiar face, the wizened old crone who was the strongest and most experienced healer not only in Kelvar, but all surrounding towns and villages as well. It was she who Taly lived which in her absence from Lithrydel and it was under her tutelage that the druidic witch began to heal from the inside out once more. Refreshed, a little harder in the heart, softer in flesh, and stronger in the attitude, Talyara returned to the lands she now called her home. But how to surprise Lanara? For the younger sister hadn’t shared the news of her return with -anyone-. The answer came in a notice pinned on the Kelay message board, advertising a charity masquerade ball for the benefit of the animal sanctuary. But Taly had to be careful, she didn’t want to just show up and distract Lanara initially from her hostess duties. And thus her plan was born…Taly stands at the entrance of the restaurant taking in the tasteful and classy decorations, yet the slight flare of dramatics that could only mean Lana had planned this to even the most minute detail. Talyara was a vision in rose gold—her long sleek dress not only falling to the ground but trailing behind her in a significant train. While the skirt was stitched with un-accessorized fabric, the bodice and long sleeves were covered in glistening gems that caught the candlelight beautifully. A thick bangle hung from her wrist, large enough to cover her rune tattoo, but also enchanted to act as a buffer against the magical link between the two sisters. Thanks to the magic, Lanara would not be able to feel the familiar thrum in her tattoo which meant that Talyara was near. The masquerade mask adorned on her face was traditionally shaped with beads and feather embellishments, and also possessed a glamour spell, hiding Talyara’s true appearance from all those gathered. While the mask was worn, Taly’s hair was a shade of honeyed blonde, pin straight, and completely in place; her eyes were a cool hue of dark blue. With all of these barriers in place, she hoped to fool her sister into thinking she was merely some supporter of the sanctuary, here for a lovely evening and nothing more. Gracefully, (disguised) Taly makes her way to the open bar where she orders a glass of champagne. This is where the witch loiters as the others make their entrance, idly sipping from her glass.

Zahrani presents her ticket at the door, the panther unrecognizable in a charming black and white garb. Was that a man or a woman beneath that sharp suit? She calmly swaggers into the main hall with a well-practiced masculine stance, tail swishing beneath the fog. To her amusement, there were other felines, or people dressed as felines. That would make it harder for people to pin down who is who. Her hair is straightened for the evening, pulled into elaborate elven braids. Covering her face is a white wolf mask with flowing black sickle-like markings. Her keen nose takes in the scent of the others, the food, the building itself. Her eyes peer invisibly behind her mask at the other ball-goers. The paladin had gone stag, but she's hoping to see at least one feline friend. It appears they are late.

Khitti :: It’d been some time since Khitti last went to some seemingly upper class shindig. The last time? The whole Cenril mayoral election debacle. You know the one. With the death and the dismemberment and the destruction. Fun times. Brand hadn’t been so keen on her coming here, but she wanted to go and Valrae needed protection. Sorry, Brand. Maybe she’ll bring you something home from the open bar. When Khitti and Valrae--I mean Sara Grace--arrived, it was clear what Khitti’s choice of masquerade mask was--a black cat. It was almost painfully obvious and yet the redhead could not deny its call. Velvet and lace built the entirety of her outfit. The mask itself was covered in an overlay of black lace, with velvet ears to match, and softly glowing purple crystals around the eyeholes--the whole thing reminiscent of her ever faithful Shadow Plane cat, the Tikifhlee. And the dress? That was similarly styled. The knee-length skirt--and the lace-up corset as well-- were made of that same, soft velvety material, while lace draped down from her waist, and flowed down behind her to her ankles, somewhat like a train. The top of the templar’s dark crimson hair was plaited into two small braids, looped around the sides of her head, and brought together to sit on the rest of her untamed locks. All in all, things looked pretty typical of the outfit--except that katana of hers, Tenbatsu Kaji, nestled down the back of her dress. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be sitting down today--but no one does that anyway at these sorts of things. Strangely enough, however, was that no aura emitted from the sword today. No, in fact, the aura seemed to come from Khitti herself. It lacked in the golden hues that Tenbatsu Kaji typically boasted, but oh… those that dealt in the dark arts and those that were undead would feel it. It was there, in the way she walked with a strange sort of confidence--the confidence of one who finally returned to world of magic--and it was there in the way those dark olive-green eyes peered out from behind the cat mask. She wasn’t just escorting Miss Baines today--she was keeping an eye out for anything that might make for an ill time at this ball, as was so often typical of these sorts of events.

Valrae arrived with Khitti and the pair of them moved, somewhat uncomfortably on her part, through the crowd that watched guests enter the private event. Khitti was her escort. Secretly, the witch was pleased. It was nice to have someone watching your back, knowing your secrets. Maybe it would have been smarter to say home but supporting Lana was important to Valrae. She wouldn’t be alive without her. And apparently she wasn’t the only one in disguise, though she wouldn’t know it. Wrapped in her glamour and shades of midnight black, she was the night to Talyara’s golden day. Again, not that she would know it. The witch was dressed in an impossibly black, thin, raw silk shift dress. The straps were intricate and beaded with crystals of hematite, the collar and the back plunging. The short, elegant and fussy train was feathered and reminiscent to a raven’s tail. She wore a delicate shawl of inky black feathers over her shoulders that rested just below the small of her back. The dark plumage lifted and danced against her skin as she moved, giving her the appearance of wings at ease. Her mask was decorated with the same hematite crystal around the eyes, wisping black and silver feathers dramatically winging out over either of her temples. The nose of her mask pointed drastically, beautiful yet eerie. ‘Sara Grace’ had piled all of her glossy brown curls atop her head, pinned artfully so that a few of the spiraling curls fell to softly line her face. Her lips were stained red and her eyes, what could be seen under her mask, were lined with black kohl and dusted with metallic silver on her lashes and eye lids. In a strange way, Khitti and Valrae made a cute and semi-matching pair. Val looked around to snag a drink and maybe find Lanara.

Artia had left Vailkrin days ago to attend the charity event hosted by her favorite witch, and almost sister in law, even though she didn't become such she still considered her a sister. The vampire wore a gorgeous long open back sleeveless mermaid dress, holding much elegance and hugging every womanly curve in her hourglass form. Intricate pattern with gold thread used to bead embellishments traces shape-highlighting motifs all over the dress from an illusion neckline bodice to a floor-length hem. Sheer-illusion inset at the back adding a bonus to the style of her sleeveless bodice. Lip gloss applied to her plump, luscious lips. Upon her face resides an gold and silver metal mask creating an added majestic look. Sturdy white gold color metal base embellished with sparkling sapphires around the eyes and throughout it. Bringing out the cyan blue eyes with the gold freckles within to stand out more. Upon her neck is a matching lace choker in the style of the mask. Hair is done in a up-do, bun with a braid wrapped around. Some red strands left about her face to hide where the mask is clipped in. The female smells of honey suckle, heels clicking at the floor making her height of five foot eight. The vampire was a stunning sight of beauty, elegance and curves. Once found the ticket counter she would move to such, paying for her entrance and some extra for any that was short. Placing a note with a name on it that a person fee was paid for, knowing Orvho was new to these lands he might not be able to cover the fee. A wink given, before she walked on inside, straight up to the bar. Placing her order, and taking a sip before she looked around the room trying to guess who might be who behind their mask.

Orphyn was stopped at the door with her two companions in tow. The hired bouncers for the evening didn't seem too keen on letting her in. No one could really blame them, seeing as neither the girl nor her cohorts were dressed for the occasion. They looked a bit rough around the edges, to put it politely. The two males had holes in their clothes for starters, with the largest holes especially noticeable in the knees of their pants. Orphyn herself was a little better dressed, a sleek and fashionable black dragsonscale duster with lovely black leather boots and black leather pants to match. Her fashion of choice for her torso was a little more out there, being a leather bodice with a leopard print design. Her short hair, vivid and full of pink, had been greased backward with a light shaving along the sides. "Formal attire only." they were told. "Aw, c'mon! I got the fee!" she protested. "Formal attire only." Rolling eyes of a grey-blue tint, Orphyn turned then and spoke loud enough for the bouncers to hear, "C'mon boys. We got better things to do." Slipping her hand into her pocket, the Cenrilian assassin pulled out a handful of coin and casually let the pile fall to the ground as she scooped her hand backward. They scattered in all directions, even some landing at the bouncers feet, leading her to pause and put on an apologetic expression as she said, "Oops." This was all part of the plan, however. As soon as the bouncers bent down to help the unruly guest, they would miss the fact that she was no longer standing there. Instead, her companions began to wander down the street in such a fashion that they might obscure whomever was in front of them, possibly leading the bouncers to assume that the trio had just taken off without care of the dropped currency. In truth, Orphyn was now within the hotel and heading for the ballroom where she would try and become lost amongst the many guests. Although, it would most likely not be for long before she was spotted and ejected from the premises, because she was now sporting a very abhorrent looking, yellow smiley face mask.

Ayras :: Silver eyes peered out from behind a black mask that covered all but her mouth and the lower right portion of her face. Silver stitching swirled about in fanciful patterns reminiscent of leaves on a tree. Surprisingly soon enough she was admitted entrance, and red-painted lips, perhaps the only color to her besides her hair, fell agape. Quite the impressive set up. As was typical of the vampire, she kept to herself and off towards a far wall - and away from that strange sensation that was emanating from somewhere in the room. As if in reaction to whatever that feeling was, a darkness pulsed from one of her arms, but it was quickly subdued. There was no need to cause trouble here. Not tonight.

Alvina had caught wind of the charity ball at the very last minute. Lanara, former teacher and bard’s guild member was raising money to fund her animal sanctuary. She couldn’t ignore such a worthy cause. To support the theme of the evening - mystery, magic, and animals - Alvina wears a slick white floor length dress that flares near her ankles with a fur like fluff. The entire dress, upon closer inspection, is white velvet. It matches her disguise perfectly; an animated twitching snowy wolf tail whips curiously from the lower back of her dress. It comes with a set of plush but realistic wolf ears that are perched neatly (and equally enchanted and twitched) atop her loose crimson curls to hide her normal, humanoid ears. Her mask boasts lupin shaped azurite glamoured eyes that frame her own and a pink, spotted nose. And just for fun she also brought some clawed and padded gloves that absorb the entire length of her arm up the shawl she wears around her shoulder in matching ivory. Hudson had - absolutely- refused to attend if she insisted on wearing this get up - and so here she is alone and honestly? Thrilled to troll her husband so properly. She’s quick to greet Lanara with a hug and a round of compliments about the venue, the food, and the cute musical entertainment. How had she got ahold of these guys?

Mythayus would enter the hotel, if anything, to only support the building of an animal sanctuary. His raven hair back in tight que. Bangs hanging loosely over a crystalline mask, half silver and the half vivid blue matching the blue of the hue it hid. The outfit was that of a noble gentleman. A grey collared shirt with a blue vest with a black jacket with silver and blue trim pulling the whole thing together. He wore black soft leather gloves, and black slack with similar silver trim to the jacket. The collar of his shirt slight unbuttoned should some nasty looking burn scars on his neck. He’d walk hand over his entrance fee and move to a good spot to people watch.

Joan fiddled with her amethyst, silver and white colored mask, pulling it down over her face as she moved along with the entrance crowd, the amethyst hair colored vampire blinking as she takes in the sights once she paid her entrance fee to this ball. Joan had no need to change before she came as she was always fashionable in her trim fitted black silk pants, silk black and silver button trimmed vest, with short sleeves white dress shirt underneath, shiny black leather mary-janes covered her feet. She’d move along towards the nearest table to help herself to any and all sugary treats.

Barnabas Bones passed briskly through the hotel doorway, a brightly dressed woman of significantly shorter stature fixed to the crook of his arm like a stately parcel. He left it ajar for the next body to latch, as if he had no presence of mind, or an accustom to leading a footservant. He was a tall and lanky man, but not one underwhelmingly dressed. Brilliantly dyed silks flowed from his wiry frame. A deep blue lace up bibfront shirt with equally ostentatious frills decorating its sleeve cuffs was tucked neatly into a crimson sash and a pair of loose white trousers, which were formally tucked into the black leather uppers of what appeared to be high, soft toed dancing boots. All articles were impeccably embellished along their seams and edges with gold and black embroidery of what appeared to be alternating symbols of a cresting wave and moons of various phases. At his hip was secured politely a very forward weighted cutlass, with a black steel hilt and uniformly swept basket and pommel, and its respective holdings of gold decorated black leather and resplendant silver brackets and clasps. Upon his ropeyarn noggin was firmly attached a tricorn hat of black leather, striking a form reminiscent of a frigate upon the waters, but where instead of waves and foam beneath instead spilled out tentacles of woolen hair that framed a sharp and long-bearded face of a hard-traveled, and yet cool-eyed man. He craned his long neck around and over his shoulder, tossing a seemingly cursory glance towards the patrons in tow, and drew a deliberate breath. With a very visible air of self importance that drew his spine straight, his shoulders square, and his long dreadlocked head high, the flamboyantly clad Barnabas pressed onwards and into the crowd, his mottled eyes skittering about and wire-haired nostrils a-flare for some scent of yet unidentified ambrosial foodstuff, and his long purposeful strides may have very well given his less leggy company a challenge to match.

Orvho:: After being told of an event hosted by someone he had little ideas about. Orvho had decided to go. Heading off with haste to the nearest shop to buy something to look the part, he had bought what he knew fit his life most. Dressed a tailored fitted long darken grey vest, buttons shimmered like polished sliver. His shirt, made from silk, seemed loose fitted and pants to match his vest, while seemingly baggy, were well trimmed, just hanging off his the skin of his legs. He sighs to the thought of shoes and buys a fresh strip of cloth to wrap his feet and enough left over to cover his left hand. He felt he would still be out of place to this event, but taking the advantage to learn of this realm and the inhabitance that would live here, question if a mask would be purposeful to him. With a snap of his fingers, he created a mask from the shadows, letting it flicker out like a blacken flame as it wrapped around his head, concealing his face and giving it the image of a blurred and smudged painting. Heading to event and approaching to pay for his ticket, he had been told it was paid for already, taking it but not questioning who it could of been, feeling his question soon to be answered. He enters and immediately gets the sensation of being overwhelmed, meeting new faces, learning new names, it was something he had done before, but this felt different in his head. Heading straight to the bar, waving off the bartender, taking a moment to adjust to his new surroundings. As he sat at the bar, his eyes began to wander, picking out a familiar set of lips. He smiled as a wave a comfort washed over him suddenly. Standing and walking to Artia, sitting back beside her.

Rinn appeared alongside Barnabas her hands adorned blue silk gloves that traveled all the way to her elbow, one silken arm laced through the man's as he steered her through the establishment. Her auburn hair was silky and fell in waves down her back one side twisted and pinned from her porcelain features, perks of having a night job. Big baby blues were rimmed with dark full lashes, her cheeks rose petal pink with rouge and her lips cherry red. Her attire was a complete polar opposite to anything she usually wore, the tattered clothing of a woman who lived dangerously replaced by a dark blue dress fit for a countess. The top was strapless and modeled after a corset squeezing her petite fame showcasing her hour glass figure, while the bottom belled out with tulle long enough to hide any footwear. Rinn would be a hard one to recognize this evening, however that was the plan.

Jacklin :: What Jacklin lacked in grace she certainly made up for in, well, more ungainly behavior. While the occasion before her seemed to warrant a little more pomp, the Brawler exuded the simple elegance of a boar having just finished an afternoon of rolling in the fields. Her hands were dirty, a few leaf bits sprinkled through her hair, and a low, rumbling belch signified that her flask was already in full swing. Like any good woman arriving fashionably late she sidestepped the doorway, hung her back against the wall, and took a subtle sniff of her shirt to make sure nothing stunk…too bad, at least.

Lanara :: About thirty minutes into the party, a hush falls over the room as the hostess of the event appears onstage, a smile on her sangria stained lips. The witch looks exquisite in a strapless black and gold gown, which hugs her figure, and dramatically inches out from her waist, and sweeps against the floor. The long train of the gown flows behind her and manages to cover her black high heels in a silken pool of golden glitter. Several in the audience are overheard sighing in admiration of the gown, and a few murmur that the dress was purchased from the famous designer, Kreekitaka. A rope of silver is around Lana’s neck, with a diamond paw-print pendant which rests above the corset of her gown, and matches the studs that adorn her tapered ears. Long chestnut locks have been expertly braided into an elegant updo, and gold ribbons have been intricately tied into the braids. A half-mask is fixated on Lana’s fair face, one of gold and black to match her ensemble, and sprouts wings from the sides, mimicking that of a beaded and lace butterfly. Standing up straight, Lanara clears her throat and stands on a small step beside the blonde bard, which had been enchanted to magnify the volume of her voice. “Merry Meet, everyone! I’m Lanara, the founder and operator of the animal sanctuary in Northern Sage Forest, and I just want to say that you all look incredible! I’m so honored that you all came out to support my cause and to enjoy the first, of hopefully many, annual charity balls. All proceeds from this event go towards the rescue and care of animals in need, as well as in the upkeep of the sanctuary and employment of my staff. I also want to take a moment to thank my sister, Talyara, who built the sanctuary from scratch with her own bare hands and magic. Without all of her love, support, and funding, none of this would have been possible. Sadly, she is away from the lands and was unable to make it tonight. ” There’s a pause in her speech for a round of applause, before she continues, “Please, enjoy your evening! The best dressed winners will be announced in an hour! Also, I want to wish a Blessed Lammas to my fellow witches, which marks a time of fruitfulness.” Grinning, with a hint of a blush in her cheeks, Lana steps down from the stage and heads over to the heart shaped ice sculpture to grab a much needed glass of punch. A few of the volunteers and workers from the animal sanctuary are in attendance, and Venin, the caretaker of the facility, is standing before the punch bowl, with a scowl on her face. She stands out like a sore thumb as she’s wearing a simple black dress and doesn’t seem to have a mask, as her no-nonsense attitude speaks volumes. There are also several members of the Adventurer’s Guild enjoying the festivities, amongst dozens of animal lovers that are lining up before the adoption table. Slowly sipping her punch, the witch doesn’t appear to have a date, yet the lady of the hour is far from lonely, as others crowd around her to say hello and compliment the decorations. Lana’s chocolate hues trail over those in her immediate vicinity, though with their disguises, it was hard to discern exactly who was who, so each person is met with a curt nod. Thankfully, someone steps into view that she does recognize, and immediately the white-clad lupine dressed woman pulls her in for a hug, “Alvina! So happy that you could make it. You look amazing! I love your outfit!” Smiling warmly, Lana leans back and gives her friend a long once over, eyeing the close detail the bard had put into her costume.

Artia noticed someone with no shoes walking up to her, glancing to the feet. Noting the wraps, she smirks shaking her head that her friend still refused to wear shoes, to each their own. Giving him a nod, looking around more she spots Mythayus, bangs in his eyes always. And the fact he had his shirt unbutton some, showing off the scars he was so cautious about. If he looked over she would wiggle her fingers in a manner of a wave to the dragon, taking another sip of the wine. Going silent as her eyes look over the beautiful Lanara, smiling widely to her. If she as well looked to her, Artia would blow her friend a kiss. Mouthing that she looked wonderful. Than back to Orvho, "Thought you might had gotten lost."

Alvina gushes with Lanara over her gown. “Those heels and that dress! Ugh, it’s heartbreaking.” They hug and Alvina smiles more for it. “Thank you! Hudson was not a fan.” She laughs, good naturedly. Maybe it offended his werewolf sensibilities. Her gloved hands claw the air while crimson curls tumble off her shaking shoulders. “Everything is beautiful, but nothing holds a candle to you.” Alvina reaches into a hidden pocket on her dress and hands Lanara a small sack of gold. “Please accept this donation for your cause.” After a brief kiss on both cheeks, in the fancy way of far off lands, Alvina excuses herself so she doesn’t hog the hostess. She’d surely make her way back around to bother her fellow bard. On her way around the room, Alvina grabs a fancy cocktail that tastes like cotton candy only to find it empty before she makes her way to this mirror people are lining up behind or in front of? She watches a woman dressed like a parrot walk through and then FLY through the other side. Holy - She has to get in line to do this. The attendant warns all the patrons that the effects will only last for three minutes. Surely she could be a tame wolf for three minutes right? The bard hops through the mirror hilariously and lands on four paws on the other side. She stamps her feet in excitement and takes off through the crowd of sparkling dresses and other magiced patrons. Her nose twitches, catching the scent of a cat and bolting after it only to lose the poor thing under a fancy table. Rather than jump under the table and risk breaking delicate crystal, Wolf-vina spins around to see shiny silver feathers and bounds for Sara Grace (Valrae) to root her nose in her feathery trail as if tracking scents in the snow. The wolf wags it’s ridiculously fluffy tail and whines, picking up a nearby fork that had fallen from a plate to drop at Val’s feet. Alvina is internally losing her mind at this embarrassment. Three minutes was too long. TOO LONG.

Talyara falls quiet along with everyone else as Lanara takes the take to give her welcome speech. A gentle smile tugs at the corners of Taly’s lips as she takes in her sister’s attire—elegant, dramatic, and ever radiant. She cannot help but chuckle silently to herself; it seems her sister was still the illuminate star among the crowd. The younger witch is just taking another sip of her champagne when Lanara makes a toast in her honor, causing Talyara to choke on the liquid amongst the quiet that had fallen afterwards. The bartender is quick to her hand her a cloth napkin which she blots against her lips as she does her best to quiet her coughing. Thankfully, aside from a few side eyes closest to her, no one else seems to notice and Lanara is moving from the stage to mingle with her guests.

Zahrani quietly makes her way to the food area, brushing some of her ebony hair away from the wolf mask. She offers a polite nod to Lanara, before stopping at the champagne bar and ordering a drink. A few party-goers eye her as she passes by. The feline grins behind her mask as she thinks she hears a lady behind her wolf-whistle in her direction. She leans against the bar, not too far away from (disguised) Talyara, surveying the other attendees. The paladin of Cyris isn't too crazy about all of the fanciness, but even with her modest black and white suit and face covering, she could see how useful it would be anonymize oneself. Her cyan eyes were hidden behind a black, one-way mesh that had been attached to the wolf-mask's eyeholes.

Valrae manages to snag a flute of bubbly pink champagne and some sort of fancy meat on a stick. It was delicious. Maybe chicken? She was on her third, and receiving serious side eye from the rail thin woman sipping her water to the left, when Lana made her breathtaking entrance. Leave it to Lanara to stand out in a room full of people dressed to the nines in sequins and feathers. Valrae, or Sara Grace, finds herself happy for her fellow witch and also suddenly self conscious about her own new body’s figure. She comforts herself with another plate of food, because when all else fails you can eat your feelings, right? Around this time Alvina, or Wolfvina, has taken on her wolf form and is rooting around her faux raven tail. ‘Sara Grace’ squeals, dropping her fork. “Ack! Khitti help!” It’s unclear why Valrae felt the need to call Khitti into this. It just happened. The witches plate of food topples from her hand as Wolfvina dives for the fork. Meatballs and dip fly.

Scandal moved with his lady down towards the buffet tables slowly making his way towards his sister Lanara. Picking up a plate, at the meats on the buffet table, gathering food for his Date, first, as per her traditions, she of course skipped over the meats as she prepared his plate, layering it with truffle after truffle after truffle. She knew him well, mushrooms and truffles were his weakness, he simply could not get enough. As soon as they neared the punch, place his food in his left hand and bowed to his sister, “A pleasure to support you.” He said with a smile. “This is Illandria,” He said presenting his companion, with him who held his plate up with her tail, perfectly balanced. She gave a low growl and then in accentless, voice that was much lighter than scandal’s she said, “A pleasure to meet, family.” Unaware she might have spilled Scandal’s identity to Lanara had she not noticed yet.

Joan continues to hang near the table, she didn’t know any of these people and mingling was just not her thing at the moment, not when she spotted a very tasty looking slice of pie, was that chocolate?! With whip cream?! Oh ho...the secret fatty in Joan narrowed her eyes as she nears that chocolate pie, oh yes-yaaasss sister, that was going to be hers alone. Anyone else tried for it, she’d fork’em!

Alvina || Wolfvina immediately sits as if to say ‘I am a good wolf dog, please throw the fork’ while Valrae screams. The white wolf’s head spins from the bird lady to the cat lady. Did the cat lady want to throw the fork. The wolf nudges the silverware over to Khitti with her pink nose. Zahrani’s wolf costume gets a glance and a happy tail wag before Alvina focuses back on the task at hand - getting some plays from all these people.

Khitti would follow along behind Valrae as the witch wandered off to find Lanara. Those green eyes of hers scanned the crowd, crimson brows furrowed beneath the mask she wore, her concern at such a large gathering going altogether unseen as she did her best to hide the frown that wanted to make an appearance on her black-painted lips. That frown finally appeared, accompanied by a slight cringe as Lanara announced the current witches sabbat. It was a wonder that Josleen and Macon weren’t here--for they’d surely have their presence announced to the entirety of the hotel--but announcing such a connection to those that Larket despised most was not entirely smart. There could be empathizers to the crown anywhere. But… Khitti could not fault Lanara entirely--she would’ve been just as cocky and would’ve announced it to the world if she too were a witch. She’d gotten the same sort of treatment as a necromancer, nearly put to death as Valrae had, and so she felt a kinship to the rather diverse bunch, even if she didn’t know them all properly. As they moved through the crowd, Khitti felt a strangely familiar pull of dark magic from some wall off to the side. It was a familiarity she didn’t like. She pretended to eye the decorations, while conveniently looking in Ayras’ direction. The height. The red hair. That holy aura flared all the more, though ever so briefly, before Khitti turned her attention away, alerted by Val’s cries of help. It wasn’t quite a vampire’s quickness, but Khitti managed to grab Val and spin her away from Alvina’s wandering tail, using those waltzing skills of hers to cover for the urge to defend her newfound friend. “Oi! Watch it with that thing--” Pause. Blink. “--Alvina?” Of course she’d choose a wolf costume. “That thing on your backside has a mind of its own, woman.” There was a smirk. She wasn’t all upset--or she was just good at hiding it.

Ayras listened through Lanara's speech, taking in the sight of the woman's dress. Quite an elegant display, to be sure. Her mind drifted inward during the speech, however, the redhead's mind traveling down the avenues of yesteryear. Both Lanara and her sister were names attaches to the woman's past. Shaking off the thoughts in her head, she made her way over to the refreshments. She didn't need either, but surely a drink wouldn't hurt, and that punch smelled delicious. It was as she was taking her first sip that she smelled something far from the perfumes worn by other women in attendance, and silver eyes travelled around to find the source. But she shrugged after a while, unconcerned about the stench overall. What could really go wrong, after all? It's not like anyone in attendance was a murderer, right? Well, besides her, that was.

Lanara blushes at the compliments from Alvina, leaning in conspiratorially to mouth the name of the legendary dress designer, Kreekitaka. The crustacean was truly a legend, and he was an old friend and ex-employer of the witch, so it was only fitting that she had purchased the finest attire for such a worthy cause. Returning the kiss to Alvina’s cheek, she giggles at the image of Hudson being horrified at his wife’s costume choice, and she nods her head, “I’m sad that Huds couldn’t attend, but I’m sure he’s home watching the little ones? You must bring them to me one day for some ballet lessons!” The heavy sack of gold is held carefully in her open palms, and those big brown eyes grow as wide as saucers, “This is too much! I couldn’t poss-“ Her words cut off as Alvina leaves her side to go and mingle, however, she winds up going through the mirror and exits the other side as a wolf. Oh dear! Wanting to go and help her fellow bard, Lana finds her path blocked by Scandal and his lovely date, and she extends a hand in greeting to Illandria, “Lovely to meet you. Thank you both for coming to show your support, it means the world to me.” After giving the raptor-woman a dainty shake, she quirks a brow to the dragon she considered a brother, “So… Scandal. You’ve been hiding this beauty from me, for how long?!” She’s jesting, of course, as she couldn’t be more thrilled for the couple. As she awaits his answer, she’s relieved to see that a fiery redhead has stepped in to protect the woman dressed as an elegant raven from the wolf form of Alvina. Everything looked to be under control, right?! Out of the corner of her eye she catches another blowing her a kiss, and though she can’t quite discern that it’s Artia, she winks at the woman and gives a polite wave.

Barnabas sent his scrutinizing eyes over the faces and masks of the partygoers shortly after Rinn's whispers warmed his ear. He seemed to acknowledge this outwardly only little, merely returning a whisper of his own before loosening his elbow and pressing forward unaccompanied. Lanara's entrance and announcement was watched closely, and as the murmurs washed again over those gathered and they stirred again to motion, he waded towards the hostess. There was resolution on his face, and by the time he had emerged through the cluster of bodies, he held in his hands a black velvet satchel with the telltale bulge of an overloaded coinpurse. Once the woman was divested of engagements and conversation, politely waiting while Alvina and others cooed over Lanara's attire and rebounded politics and happenings that were beyond his own understanding, the tall man extended the aforementioned purse. He began hesitantly, a meek voice unbefitting a man of his posture and wardrobe, but then becoming earnest and resolute. "Yes. E-excuse me, m'lady? But I wish to inquire -is there pudding? Are donors permitted to partake of the pudding? Us Withershins -we don't fend well with chewing foods. Which way is the pudding?" After finally, allowing the hostess to reply, the man spun his head this way and that as if frantic to find the pudding. He held the substantially weighted purse before towards him as if it were entirely inconsequential and most certainly not leaving the ball with him.

Talyara offers an apologetic smile to the person who sidles up to the bar beside her before the disguised witch does a double take. Those faux blue eyes flit over the impeccably dressed feline beside her. Taly was pretty sure she knew whose tail that belonged to, and the skin tone and stature were the same, but without the telltale facial features and cyan hued eyes, she couldn’t be certain. “My apologies,” she says in a quiet tone, throwing her voice so it sounded more high pitched than normal. She might not look like Taly, but Zahrani might recognize her scent. It is for that reason that Taly immediately scuttles off towards the table of food and begins to fix herself a plate.

Scandal smiles and replies, to his sister, "Only for a little while, but you never know. I left trinity on patrol, they will only engage if you command it, I told them strictly only on your behalf, otherwise they will keep out of sight." He motioned to Illandria, "I believe we have a table available to us, if you would like anything dear sister, just come over to Table 81."

Valrae shakes her head at Alvina, her own ears feeling hot. “Not at all!” She chirps, “Nice to meet you!”

Artia pat's Orvho knee, giving him a kind smile which faded as she withdrew her hand. Standing, offering her arm to him. "Let's go introduce you to some of my friends?" If he took her arm they would stroll up to Lanara, "Excuse me, my favorite witch." She would say with a happy tone, "Lanara, this is my friend Orvho. He is new to our lands, Orvho this is the beautiful Lanara." She smiled happily to Lanara, dropping her arm from Orvho's to pull the fellow witch into a hug. Hopefully she noticed it was Artia by now.

Joan gets elbowed by one of the severing staff as he/she/it makes to take off the rapidly empty dishes and plates. Joan snarls softly as she turns her light voided orbs at he/she/it, a mummer of an excuse is given to the vampire and she accepts it as she now takes claim to the single piece of chocolate pie. Pointing to it she ask if there is more and if so for it to be brought out. Soon after, her pale finger swipes at the whip cream topping, a lick is given to her covered finger before she indulges that secret fatty.

Zahrani receives her drink, and before partaking, she detects a familiar scent coming from the woman next to her. She turns towards Taly, not looking directly, but she was just quick enough to notice a double-take and the blonde woman staring at her for a moment. After the woman apologizes, seemingly for staring, Rani responds, "No harm done." A warm smile forms behind her mask, the panther not even bothering to mask her own mid-tenor voice. She turns away as Taly walks elsewhere. The cat-in-wolf's-clothing turns to watch the shenanigans with Valrae, Alvina, and Khitti, but they are not the reason the paladin is beaming ear-to-ear behind that black-and-white lupine visage. She hunts down a straw for her drink, letting her enjoy the champagne without lifting her mask.

Khitti :: Right. Yes. Valrae. Alvina. Awkward. Khitti’s lips pressed into a thin line before she made for introductions to cover both the witch and the bard’s embarrassment and awkwardness, “Alvina.” She paused, pretending to present Alvina to Valrae. “Sara Grace.” More pretending ensues. Gods, was this what it was like for Brand when she had amnesia and had to be disguised some months ago? That man had the patience of a saint (somehow) and was so much better at this quick thinking than she was. What would Brand do? Brand… would get some much needed alcohol. Yes. Perfect. Good advice, imaginary Brand. This is why she’s marrying you. With an innocent smile, Khitti sidestepped ever so slightly, made an order for two glasses of whiskey on the rocks, and wanted for the awkward to go away. It wouldn’t. Because Ayras was standing right next to her. Good. Good. Wonderful. She finally got her drinks and resisted the urge to down them both. Tonight was to be a night of dual-wielding drinks.

Orphyn moved through the crowd with ease, blinking in an out of existence as she makes her way over toward the buffet table. Every now and again she might catch someone giving her an odd stare or look of disgust, given her sorry choice of attire and that creepy little mask she chose to display. It didn't bother her, really. Most that attended this sort of party were not her sort of people anyway. Stuffy upper crust types that she wouldn't even piss on if they were on fire. The speech with the extravagant woman was something that was watched with mild interest, mostly just to get a feel for what sort of shindig this would actually turn out to be. Animal Sanctuary? Well, if anything, it was a noble cause and Orphyn liked this sort of charity. It was a real shame that she felt the need to cause a bit of mischief, or rather, use the party as a testing grounds. Pulling from the inside pocket of her duster a small leather coinpurse, the errant assassin not long to open it up and nipped something from inside. Between her fingers she held a pinch of some sort of powder, covertly to sprinkle it over one tray of hors d'oeuvres in an even manner. If the concoction worked, any who ate from that specific tray may find themselves in an aggressive mood- perhaps to become confrontational, or even break out into a full on physical altercation. Feeling guilty due to the nature of the event, Orphyn would not be long to vamoose away from the snack table, quickly making her way over to the donation jar to pay a little penance in the form of gold coins.

Orvho following behind Artia, he looks over Lanara, taking note on her appearance. As Artia introduces him, he nods his head, unsure what to say. "'Ello..." is the most he says as he watches Artia pull her in for their hug.

Rinn would offer her 'date' a curt nod of her head before she released Barnabas' arm. Her left hand jerked open her metal fan, which sounded a metallic clink, to bring over her face while she cooled herself lazily. Her crystal blue gaze scanned around the crowd taking mental note of those dressed to the nines. Though Rinn's first stop would be at the punch bowl where she helped herself to a, hopefully very alcoholic, beverage; regardless she was thankful for the pregaming her and Barn had managed outside. A particular redheaded vampire caught her attention, AYRAS, which drew Rinn in closer. So with a fan lifted over her face an intentional trip would collide the two women, "Oh my heavens." She exclaimed in a peculiar accent while a quick slide of hand had Rinn slipping under the woman's bustier, "I apologize!" She exclaimed loudly dropping both Ayras' coin purse and her fan. Though quickly before Rinn could be recognize ,or the items noted, she doubled over securing the purse under her dress while she scooped up her fan, "Are you ok?" She inquired now back behind her fluttering fan. "They really should do something about that spill. My word."

Mythayus would walk over to Artia as she motioned for him to come over. “Yes, Sia… Artia” He’d notice the man with her. He’d give a slight bow of the head towards the man. “I’m Mythayus and you are?”

Lanara tilts her head to gaze up at the much taller male, and for half a second she wonders if he’s toying with her about the pudding. She blinks, her long lashes brushing against the interior of her butterfly mask, as she peers into the hues of the male, and realizes that he’s speaking in earnest. “Um. Yes! Yes, as a matter of fact there is pudding. Over at the dessert table, to the left… Come this way…” Resting her hand on his forearm she walks a few steps and points about halfway down the table, where there is an array of various desserts, and in the center, chocolate, vanilla, and banana flavored pudding. “And if you’d like something, um, softer, for your palate, but warm and more filling… There are some pureed garlic potatoes beside the filet mignon on that table…” Her pointer finger is motion to the opposite side of the room, before the male says a term that has her tilting her head in confusion. Widdershins… Was this… Barnabas Bones?! The pirate that had helped her bring Puddles to Rynvale Island for a ritual?! The fact that he didn’t offer up his name and was treating her as though she were a stranger and not a friend has her pursing her lush lips, and she doesn’t wish to reveal his disguise. Perhaps he had his reasons? Accepting the gold, she graciously bows her head, her cheeks flushed with newfound warmth, “Thank you, Kind Sir… This will be put to good use, of that I can assure you.” The impeccably dressed male leaves in search of pudding as Lana’s hugs the cloth bag to her chest, and smiles at the nearing witch and her date. “Artia! So happy that you could make it!” They reach for each other at the same time and are enveloped in a lingering hug, before Lana smiles at Orvho and extends a hand, “Pleasure to meet you. You both look lovely! I hope you’re enjoying the evening so far?”

Orvho looks over at the man who is bowing his head, he turns and bows in return. "Orvho." His response seems short and blunt, but has a slight bit of nervousness in it.

Alvina smiles, they both look equally startled and Khitti’s just walked away. Uhhhhhh. ‘Khitti no plz be a buffer between me and this stranger I just sniffed’ cries Alvina in the safety of her mind while trying to come up with something to say after the apology. “Alvina,” She points a clawed glove at herself. “Nice to meet you Sara Grace? Is Grace a middle name or like one of those two name first name sort of things?” This is going super. “G-gorgeous dress, really. The feathers are really intricate - and it fits you so well.” Damn, and her make-up was on point. Alvina blames Hudson for her not having enough time to do her own. Yes, perfect.

Orvho turning back the witch, he tilts his head ever so slightly, trying to feel at ease with Artia by him. "Ye-yeah." His voice still hinting his nervousness.

Ayras tensed ever so slightly as that sensation from when she first walked in drew closer. The thing within her wanted to claw, to scratch, to lash out, but Ayras held firm on the reigns of the volatile darkness within her. The punch in her hand was quickly drained; maybe if she drank quick enough, Ayras might get a buzz. Or, you know, stumbled into by a clutz of a woman. She stumbled, both into the punch fountain's table and towards Khitti, before the one with the fan was back on her feet and stammering apologies. "Yes, yes, a spill, I'm sure." The vampire shook her head and went about her business, getting herself a refilled refreshment.

Mythayus quirked a brow at the man sensing his nervousness. “Is everything alright? You seem a bit nervous. No one here is going bite you...”

Scandal pulled the chair out for Illandria to sit as she placed his plate down at the spot next to her, and helped scoot her up to the table. He placed her plate down in front of her, which while filled with many meats all cooked and finely prepared, also had some fruit as well. His plate not only filled with truffles was also filled with salmon hors'd'oeuvors. He smiled and dug in along with her, using the fork when needed but mostly leaving it to finger foods, as well Razurath customs. He was trying to please her to night not anyone else. As he was finishing he ate the hors d'oeuvres, and his eyes pulsated like fire. Illandri looked at him, "Something wrong Scandal?" Scandal eyes glowed, "It helps to be have a huge bmi, but I think that last bit food was drugged."

Artia smiled so widely as the two embraced each other same time. "Yes, you did well. Nothing you can't do it seems." pulled back from the hug, taking note that Mythayus walked up to them. Giving him an almost shy smile, "Was just waving a hello." A smirk replaced the shy smile, "You and those bangs, Myth." She pulls a pin from her hair, one that wouldn’t cause her hair to fall apart till later after dancing. Raising on the tips of her toes, pinning his bangs back. Placing a kiss to Mythayus' cheek where his scar was under his eye. "Didn't expect you to show to such event, but than haven't spoken to you to find if you were coming. It's good to see you. This is my friend Orvho, he is new to our lands. I've been helping him get to know our lands. The lands he is from, seems very different."

Valrae held her breath for a tense moment as Khitti introduced them. She exhaled shakily as the other woman introduced her with her alias and shot her a grateful smile that quickly turned into a look of panic. Khitti don’t leave! Her eyes say, beneath the crystal and feathers. Her own thoughts paralleled Alvina’s own. ‘Sara Grace’ replaces her smile when she turns back to Alvina. “Grace is the middle name but I’ve always gone by both. That was a neat wolf trick.” She says, making conversation just as awkwardly. The meatballs were cleaned up now so she couldn’t even look at them longingly. “Oh, thank you!” She preens a little, much the like the bird she’s imitating. Suddenly, with makeup compliments Valrae is warming to the conversation. Even if it was bizarre to be catfishing the wife to a former paramore she was mistress too. What is life anymore? “I love your dress too. The colors are stunning. The gloves really sell it.” Has Khitti returned?

Xanthe :: Late. Of course. Figures. Still having difficulty adjusting to the concept of TIME. She bites her lip, she wants so bad to experience life beyond the confines of her forest home! Her living dress of a golden ivy bodice, and gossamer skirt writhe and trembles as it clings tightly to her porcelain skin concealing barely enough to be decent, Her hand nervously tugs at her simple mask of golden filigree as she looks about her.

Joan finished off her slice of pie with relish, as the area around the table was becoming more crowded Joan would be quick to put her empty plate down and snatch another as it was delivered to the table. Sticking her fork into the chocolate the vampire would make her way towards one of those wait staff that circled with the flutes of champagne. She’d snatch one before looking for a semi empty table she could sit down at to enjoy herself.

Talyara is finding the increasing crowd much to her distaste. She could barely move! And while trying to balance a plate of food? This was no good. Ignorant to the fact that there is assigned seating, Taly finds the closest table and parks herself in a seat, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She is just about to take a bite of a succulent looking piece of chicken when a scathing voice rings behind her. “Excuse me?! But you’re in my seat!” Talyara’s eyes go wide as she recognizes the voice of Leslie! The crazy man who had drugged Taly and Lana on the former’s last night in Lithrydel! Abandoning her plate of food, Talyara rushes from the table with an ‘eep!’ and pushes herself between Rinn and Ayras in her attempt to get away. “Excuse me! Pardon me!” She calls to them over her shoulder.

Xanthe peers around, everybody's face is obscured, she starts rethinking coming at all.Her dress becomes agitated with her conflicted emotions.

Orvho leers slightly, hidden under his mask of shadows that contort and blur his face. Responding to Mythayus. "I am fine, just, as Artia said, I'm new here. Not sure what to say really." His voice is less tense, his head tilting upright again as he steps closer to Artia. "I could get over being bitten by the way, wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to me." He gives a gentle chuckle.

Mythayus smiled as she pinned up his bangs as she always did. “I was told I needed to get out more wht better way than a charity event. I suppose. I’ve missed you.” He’d return her kiss on the cheek with one of his own. “We need to stop this not talking to one another for long periods of time. I can’t take it.” He’d give a laugh. Looking to Orvho, “New? Where do you hail from, friend?”

Scandal struggling to bury that flushing of aggressiveness, does so by saying, "lets get more company," he waves towards Xanthe, and points to a chair at the table, "Feel free to join us."

Mythayus would laugh, "True there are far worse things than getting bitten."

Zahrani decides to be social, walking up to Khitti, Valrae, and Alvina. The dapper cat stands next to the Paladin Guild leader, raising her champagne glass to Alvina's choice of custom before saying, "Good evening. Enjoying the party? Perhaps Valrae would find the cat's aura somewhat familiar. When she was still in spiritual form, the cat had sensed her presence long ago during an Alliance meeting in Frostmaw. Khitti would surely recognize her, even with the straightened hair and masculine choice of attire.

Khitti was entirely too aware of the situation unfolding right next to her. There was a similar feeling in Khitti’s own mind, that mirrored Ayras’. The vampire should be dead. More dead. Incredibly dead. Double, triple, and quadruple dead. There had not even been a trace of her in Raiez’s cave when they’d returned. Or perhaps they had missed her -somehow-, what with that whole thing of Amarrah reawakening in Khitti and taking over her body, way back when. Much like the other redhead, she downed her whiskey, then went to follow it up with a second, only to be nearly ran into by the aforementioned vampire, thanks to the randomly clutzy woman’s antics. The urge to push her away violently was there. The urge to unsheath Tenbatsu Kaji and run that vampire through. The vampire she’d been forced to share a jar with for months. These feelings were why Khitti could never fully walk the path of light. Why she chose not to become a paladin. She still strayed into the dark. Khitti managed to keep as far away from Ayras as possible with that little tumble, but her whiskey was left to fall to the ground, the glass breaking with it. Glass. Jars. Breaking. Memories she didn’t want to have anymore returned.

Xanthe Takes a deep breath to calm herself, her dress settles back into place and she once again looks around to observe proper protocol.

Alvina laughs nervously but Sara Grace’s awkwardness is soothing. They’re in the same boat here, maybe they’ll laugh about this someday down the line at a future charity ball. ‘Remember when I sniffed your dress?’ Too soon, too soon. The bard chuckles as Valrae preens. How cute is she? She’s equally flattered and waves at the woman to dispel the compliments. Is it too soon to claw the air the same way she had with Lanara? Uhh yeah, don’t do that. “Well I won’t take up any more of your time, sorry again uh what are you drinking? Let’s have a toast to uh...awkward introductions?” She suggests and then laughs. Alvina can’t handle this. It’s too ridiculous to be real. Whatever Val orders, Alvina will snag off a passing waiter and pass her a glass to clink and drink. Is Khitti back? Alvina’ll be able to politely excuse herself as soon as she is to berate herself for this. THREE MINUTES IS TOO LONG. Someone should warn the attendant at that mirror.

Khitti isn't next to Alvina and Valrae anymore unfortunately! She's rather tied up with getting herself a new glass of whiskey, while muttering a faint apology to one of the ball's attendants, who went to deal with the broken glass.

Xanthe smiles at Scandal murmurs "Thanks" and takes a seat.

Orvho "Well, would you think me crazy if I was from a different realm? My home was within what was called 'The world of the Crown' and was believe that our planet was really the crown of a mad god. I guess that name was implied." He laughs.

Barnabas took Lanara's directions as if there was nothing else of importance. He followed he until the grand buffet lay in his line of sight, and then at once those great long strides swept him smoothly up alongside it. His spindly fingers drummed against his braided chin and lower lip as if in deep deliberation about the various soft foods. The ambience of the lighting danced and refracted off of the various silver and gold clasps and closures of his garments -most namely the silver fittings upon his leather tricorne hate- as he almost frantically inspected the array of puddings. The peculiar man mused inward and quietly to himself about the fine selection before taking up a large silver ladle from its perch on a bowl side. Carefully and intentionally, he ladled the semi-liquid dessert into first his left hip pocket,and then his right, glancing down after the runny chocolate mixture once it had settled into their depths. Seemingly satisfied, Barnabas proudly puffed out his chest and spooned a grotesque portion of the chocolate pudding matter upon a full sized dinner plate. He was almost violently shoveling it into his beard and maw as he traversed through the jostling bodies, drawing an arm protectively around his plate of precious pudding. He stopped, looked over the crowd briefly, and then returned his full and undivided attention to his much desired pudding, and the world stopped, or so it seemed, for him.

Scandal smiled as he could the other seat filled by the raptor like female, Illandria, "Welcome to the party, feels a little overwhelming does it not?" Scandal asked. Illandria looked at the dryad, "Next party ought to be in Venturil, at least where the outdoors are an option."

Lanara smiles warmly at Mythayus, Artia, and Orvho, about to continue their conversation, however her loyal attendant comes over to her side and taps her on the shoulder. The two exchange a ‘look’ and Lana apologetically leaves the group and heads for the stage as the votes were in. Two guests had been chosen at random to pick the best dressed male and female of the evening, and it was time to issue them each a prize that was extremely close to Lanara’s heart. Arriving at the stage, Nick, the lead singer of the Backstreet Bards helps the witch onto the special step which was enchanted to magnify her voice, and he hands Lana a piece of parchment. She scans the page and lifts her head to look out over the crowd and locate the two that matched the drawings on the paper. Names would do her no good, as all the attendees were in disguise! Scandal’s eyes seem to be glowing in rage, perhaps he ate something that didn’t agree with him? And a redhead spills her drink on another redhead, causing Lana to frown. Wine didn’t come out of fabric, and that dress would be ruined! But… The show must go on! As the fog thickens and the band plays a soulful ballad in the background, the witch clears her throat, and calls for everyone’s attention. “Excuse me! May I have all of your attention, please?” She pauses, until the desired hush falls over the crowd, “You ALL looks amazing and you have truly kept with the theme of a true masquerade. I see that you all are enjoying the food and drink, and that one of you even managed to test out the enchanted mirror!” A few chuckles rise as she glances at Alvina, before motioning to the parchment in her hand, “Before we continue the party, I would like to announce the best dressed lady and gentleman of the evening… Chosen by two random guests, so that no favoritism is involved…” There’s another pause for dramatic effect, though the silence in the crowd shifts to an audible ‘AWE’ as two panther cubs stroll onto the stage and paw at the train of Lana’s dress. “The kind sir over there eating pudding is the best dressed male! And the lovely lady who earlier dropped her meatballs and was startled by a wolf is the best dressed female! Please… Come up to the stage and retrieve your prizes… An immortal panther cub!” Bending over and making sure not to give the crowd a peep show of her bosom, Lana carefully lifts both cubs into her arms, delighted that their applications were also cleared and approved before the winners were announced. They’d be going to good homes. Barnabas and Valrae would be excellent pet owners!

Rinn found herself knocked back by Taly and she emitted a distressed cry as her hand coiled around the witch's wrist to keep her balance. Or was it to loosen the clasp of her bracelet, "Watch where you are going young lady." She scolded drawing the attention to face not her hand. Her fan shook dramatically as she twisted away from the woman mumbling to herself, "They'll just let anyone in here.....No manners" And as she complained she dropped the jewelry down the front of her bodice disguising it as an adjustment of cleavage while she moved along the room headed for Joan.

Mythayus would nod listening to the man. "I understand. I've travel to other realms and I'm not from this one as well." He'd offer the man a warm smile.

Xanthe tugs on a willow leaf in her hair and says to the group at the table "My name is Xanthe."

Jacklin licks a few drops of whiskey from the neck of her flask. A healthy drop need not be wasted, after all. Tucking the flask away she did her best to behave on what seemed to be such an elegant occasion. Why the woman was here in the first place hardly made sense but seeing the bustle of fancy folk was entertainment enough. Clicking her tongue at a waiter bold enough to swing close to her she lifted her chin in the direction of a chair out of reach, “How about you scoot that chair on over here? I’m too feeble to do so.” To say the waiter was enthused at the request would have been a fib. To say he was appalled at the stench emanating from the woman? Now that was accurate to a point. Jack immediately plopped down into the seat with no fanfare and certainly no gratitude. Instead she played her usual card of treating those around her as the feckless and small creatures she deemed them to be. “Go away,” she slurred. Now in the safety of her chair she could watch all the lovelies tittering their nights away.

Khitti nearly snorted whiskey out of her nose as Valrae’s announced as one of the winners. It’s way worse than when soda does that. Woman… How do you manage to draw so much attention to yourself? That’s really all she could think in regards to the witch right now. There was too much burning in her nose and sinuses. Alcohol does not belong there. Nope.

Artia took a step back from Mythayus as she bumped into Orvho for moving closer to her, "Well, you always gone periods of time not talking to me anyways. But you know where to find me nowadays, hope you enjoy the evening. I can save you a dance of like? If I even get the nerve to dance later. Right now, I have drinking to do." Nodding to Lanara as she leaves to announce the winners, than her attention upon the two males speaking. "Mythayus travels a lot, always has but his duties reside in Larket. You still work with Larket?" She asks curious, remembering her promise to herself to be kind to everyone. Tomorrow back to Vailkrin.

Scandal smiles, "Mine, is well...Scandal." Illandri laughs, "I am Illandria, and no my partner did not get that name because he was scandalous." She winked. Scandal smiled, "A pleasure to meet you, yes his eyes were still glowing, but the anger was subsiding, there were benefits to being a dragon, especially one his age."

Orphyn once more began to feel a bit out of place. She always did when she bothered to attend a large event- She should know better by now. The powder seemed to not be having the effect that she desired, meaning that either something had gone wrong, or the particular snacks she had picked out were not all too popular. Either way, she didn't need to be here any longer. Much like she had come in, she would make an exit without much notice.

Joan had just forked the last of the second slice of chocolate pie into her mouth, the vampire chews in quite content, now pushing the empty plate to the middle of the table she occupied, any that joined her were given a nod in greeting before her attention turned to the stage to hear who had won, with a shrug she’d go back to her full flute of champagne, sips were taken as she just people watched.

Orvho nods, listening to the man's words. "I believe this would be the third one I have been to now. Although I didn't really choose to be to this one.' He shrugs, "I can't complain though, it is nicer than the last of the three." He laughs.

Rinn caught a glance of Barnabas as he shoveled pudding into his pockets. Poor Rinn couldn't hold it together, her laugh was far from lady like and had her doubled over and slapping a knee, "Do you see this?" Rinn gasped to Joan as she offered a hard elbow towards the woman, another distraction for a peek in some ones pockets, Joan's.

Mythayus would nod to her, "I still am the Army Commander of Larket. I'd like that if you would mind. I'd love a dance later."

Xanthe returns Scandal's smile. "The pleasure is mine I assure you. I haven't very many people yet, well any really."

Ayras probably should have been dead, true, but that very Amarrah had kept the woman alive and as whole as she could. But that wasn't the worst that Amarrah had done. No, Ayras had spent the last year and a half trapped in a world of shadows, a place she had only found a way out of by happenstance. Someone had opened a portal there. At the time, she hadn't known where it lead, but it was surely better than being in Amarrah's home. As it was, she had come back with a "gift" of sorts from that place, and that thing was raging within Ayras. It was enough that Ayras finally gave in with a snarl and actually shouted "What?!" as she slammed her hands on the table before her. A moment later, she turned to face Khitti, the source of the thing's - and her own, if truth be told - discomfort. Molten silver eyes settled on that black cat mask. Of course, Ayras had only really known Khitti while within that jar so very long ago, but there was something that struck Ayras as familiar about the templar. Ayras, however, was better at blocking out that time as a dragon's amusement, and so with a shrug she turned away. "You need to get a grip on yourself," she muttered, seemingly to herself. "There have always been those that reeked of that sort of power. Holy-types are bound to be about away from Vailkrin." She needed another drink. Of course, that's about when Talyara shoved her way by. Now that was a scent she was intimately familiar with. The vampire spun on her heel and watched the woman go. She wouldn't chase after her or anything like that. More, she was shocked to be finding so many familiar faces, tonight. Oh right. She was getting another drink.

Orvho crosses his arms, letting out a light sigh, hoping neither heard it.

Alvina smiles as Zahrani approaches, yes please help me. “It’s been lovely, thank you. I hope you are likewise enjoying yourself?” She smiles at her fellow dressed wolf before she exhales and downs her drink. Valrae presumably moves away to accept her prize. She claps politely and offers Zahrani a brief wave of apology and ducks towards the back where Jacklin is shooing away a waiter. Something about that person was familiar. She squinted her oceanic enchanted wolf eyes at her for way too long. Jack looked a mess but holyfrickinsven is that ?!?!?!?! The bard rushes over to pull off her mask and stare, a little too closely, at the whiskey smelling woman. “Is this a costume?” She asks her, confused. Why would someone dress up like another person? It’s a masquerade, yeah but...What is this night even?

Valrae takes the offered drink and toasts with Alvina while the room spins around her. Probably, Hudson would kill her for catfishing his wife. So what was she doing? Why hadn’t she moved off? Where was Khitti?! Somewhere glass shatters. ‘Sara Grace’ frowns and looks around. It’s too crowded to see very far around her in any direction. Damn. She smiles at Alvina again and pretends she wasn’t looking around desperately for the same polite out as the other woman was. “I actually haven’t paid my respects to the hostess yet.” She says. “You would happen to know which direction to point me toward?” Suddenly, Lana was commanding the attention of the crowd again. She gives Alvina an embarrassed smile, followed with a small laugh. “Found her I guess!” The witch says softly. Was it hot in here? Val takes another sip of her drinks and resituates her feathery shawl. When Lanara calls the winners, the witch pretends for a single second that it isn’t her. Surely someone else spilled meatballs? No. Just here then, because ‘startled by the wolf’ is added. ‘Sara Grace’ wonders if it's possible to die from embarrassment. Her heels click loudly as she moves to collect the prize, which she would like to be appropriately excited about but is currently mortified, and gives Lana her brightest smile. Though she was glamoured and underneath an ornate raven’s mask, Valrae hadn’t disguised her aura. It would be possible for Lana to detect her underneath the magic and makeup. She secretly hopes she does. “It’s Sara Grace,” Val introduces herself with a wink. “And thank you so much! You’ve thrown an excellent party.”

Artia smiled to Orvho, running her hand along his shoulder. "He seems to not want to return where he came from, I am glad he decided to stick to ours." Her eyes looked up into Mythayus face, "Than I will, see if you can still spin me around or if you have lost your touch." Her tone playful.

Zahrani hears the collision between Rinn and Taly. That voice seems strangely familiar, even though she had only heard it once before. The feline puts down her champagne at a nearby table, walking over to Taly and offering the blonde elf a hand. She notices something had gone missing from the woman's wrist. If Taly accepts the offer of help, the paladin helps her to her feet. Either way, the cat scans the crowd for the woman she had run into.

Joan arches a eyebrow as she is elbowed, the vampire turning her attention towards the other woman (Rinn), “Sure, entertaining.” She tells the other, slouching as she was a bit of the black rat’s skull she always carried with her could be seen pushing up a bit out of her pocket.

Barnabas was only marginally aware of the contest at hand. He was, however, wholly involved in the imbibing of that delectable goop that was the event's chocolate pudding. The last spoonful was just leaving the plate and hovered before his mouth when that 'man eating pudding' was announced. He froze, shot a fearful eye towards the stage and the hostess, and the eyes of the crowd seemed to fall on him. He thought he'd been made, that his pudding purloining had been thwarted. But no! He had won some contest of which he was entirely unaware and previously unconcerned with. The walk to the stage took a mere three or four long steps. The towering man stood, speechless, looking from his plate of pudding to the panther cub with incredulity. Slowly, he set the plate of pudding down upon the foot of the stage platform, and then made to kneel by the magnificent young creature. Over the 'aww's and 'ooh's of the crowd cracked an audible familiar but none-too-welcome sound of a loose bowel. BLRRRRTT, it wailed to a terrifying crescendo. Barnabas was squatting when it came, like a shudder of a demon vacating his body. Pudding mixed with non-pudding, and his formerly prize-winning attire became almost instantly soiled from the waist down. Gasps and shrieks of horror preceded the inevitable laughter that would wave over the attendees behind him, followed surely by a unanimous disgust for the foul smell of defecation that provided a fetid juxtaposition to the gallantry and careful set and planning of the party. Barnabas rose, straight backed, pale in the face, and turned to face the crowd. He raised a long arm high above his head, above the sludge that was now coursing through and down his luxurious silk finery. "May I have your attention, please!" he beckoned. "The pudding," he said, hand twirling high by the wrist for extra punctuation, "Is bad."

Orvho smiles, while unseen under the flickers and twist of his illusion of a mask. He hands uncross, laying onto Artia's hips, playfully swaying back and forth. "I will try and spin her out." He chuckles and bites his lips quickly to try and hide it.

Talyara shyly accepts Zahrani’s offer of a hand up, thankful that her rose gold mask hides her deep blush. When the feline mentions her writes, blue eyes widen and she looks down but thankfully, it was only the chain bracelet that seemed gone—the magicked bangle was still in place. Taly exhales deeply and smiles to the wolf-masked. “It’s okay, it probably fell off somewhere. A loose clasp.”

Scandal reached into his vest and pulled out a bottle of a glowing gaseous liquid that hung at the top the corked bottle, "This stuff is the best alcohol, I mean nothing else works. Just inhale, and feelings." Illandria looked at him nervously, "No Scandal, don't sniff that." "Why Your people make it, it’s awesome, why some bars are using it right now." Illandria grabbed his arm, "No that’s not Alcohol that’s nerve gas." She instantly covered her mouth as scandal's eyes began to glow much brighter. A loud cracking noise could be heard as scandal broke the bottle in his hand. Illandria looked at Xanthre, "He's normally never like this it must be something he ate." She said quickly. "You mean this entire time I have been, INHALING NERVE GAS!!!" He roared. Illandria grabbed him and blew a whistle with two fingers, as signaling to Trinity, three towering Draconians to come in and grab scandal, as he turned over the table. He got up as she tried backing away, "Scandal I am positive this whatever you are talking, you’re never like this..."

Jacklin was rarely caught off guard but the sudden appearance of Alvina had thrown her from that seat of stoicism. Jack slowly brought her eyes up to where the woman stood. A snort, a squint, and a squirm prefaced her words, “…would someone purposefully dress up like this?” At the cut of words she reached up to prod her own face as if to make sure that, yes, she wasn’t wearing a mask by accident.

Khitti :: Was Khitti unnerved as the vampire shouted at nothingness and seemingly spoke to herself? As in with a sense of fear? Not really. She was increasingly agitated though, even moreso at the voice from a year or so passed, the title ‘Queen of Spiders’ echoing in her mind. Khitti couldn’t help but stare at her, even as eye contact was broken. Ayras went about her business then and it was enough time lapsed for the templar to down her most recently acquired drink and head towards the stage where Valrae was at. The witch might sense her anger-induced agitation. Anyone else that knew Khitti probably could as well, as it radiated from her like that holy aura her new magic boasted. She put on a forced smile for Valrae though, and clapped in appreciation for her win, as well as mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’ to her, should the witch look in her direction.

Zahrani's masked face turns back to Taly, nodding politely and crossing her arms. She takes a moment to acknowledge that prizes had been won. The panther frowns behind her mask. An inborn, instinctual part of her is not pleased with such beautiful young cubs being offered as things to be won. Inhaling and exhaling with deliberate control, the feline says to Taly, "The one you ran into smells of mischief." Honestly, that could describe quite a few people in this event, probably.

Artia felt Orvho’s hand on her hip, grabbing his hand to shove it off and back to his side. Walking away, heading back to the bar. Collecting some whiskey shots, drinking about four back to back before she grabbed herself a glass of him. Still not to found of being touched, something she was working on. If Orvho followed, "What would you like to drink?"

Xanthe giggles nervously "that's okay, I really don't know what normal is or should be for anyone."

Zahrani swiftly turns towards Scandal's voice, readjusting her mask. A look of unseen concern forms behind it. “Nerve Gas?”

Alvina’s furrowed brow and thin lipped smile consider this evidence. Hmm. It’s an oddity in a room full of fancy costumes and luxuries. Her emerald eyes squint. “You look like someone I used to know.” She says slowly, almost accusingly because honestly it isn’t possible. It’s been a decade, at best. And it’s a stark contrast to how she’d seen this distant woman in her memory. No way. Impossible. Her wolf ears wiggle then lie back flat against her crimson hair. “Uhh I think I was mistaken.” She lifts one of her paw handed gloves and waves it apologetically. “Sorry to disturb you.”

Orvho shrugs and looking at Artia, slightly confused of her reacting, he follows her to the bar and watches her do her shots. He leans along the bar counter, his eyes not taking them off her. "Whatever you're having works, I'm not too picky."

Xanthe she would stand up and set the table back upright.

Valrae has taken her panther cub. She’s trying not to audibly squeal at how cute the little creature is when her co-prize-winner has an… Unfortunate accident. Valrae does squeal then. She leaps back, luck and a lifetime of walking on heels keeping her from toppling over and onto the night’s hostess as she lands, all while still gripping her newest familiar. Her eyes were wide again, her mouth locking in an incredulous and surprised ‘O’. She looks for Khitti, Lanara, anyone to meet her eyes and confirm that what she just witnessed was something that actually happened. When she finds Khitti, the other woman looks agitated. Valrae’s brow creases as the redhead mouths an apology. ‘Sara Grace’ thanks Lanara again and quickly exits stage right, casting a final look of shock at Barnabas. The cub in her arms is surprisingly well behaved. She reaches Khitti. “I won? Are you okay?” Both were questions. The cub’s wide hand reaches up and rests softly on the side of the witch’s face, pushing her feathered mask crooked on her nose.

Talyara opens her mouth to respond to Rani but…what was that putrid stench?! She scrunches up her face and quickly grabs a napkin from a passing waiter and holds it up to her face, using it as a veil to breathe some fresh air. The sound of shattering glass and quite the commotion draws her attention and the younger witch spies Scandal being held back by his henchmen after having flipped a table. Did he just yell something about nerve gas?! What was going on?!

Scandal was not able to see through this blind rage, he moved menacingly after Illandria, and inching closer, knocking aside those that got in his way, namely the hapless server, or the occasional guest. Illandria kept backing up strategically leading him toward the door way. Where the bodyguards and Trinity were occupied at hopefully she could get him out before he lost interest in her and turned his blind rage toward everyone else.

Lanara smiles at the feather adorned woman and gently deposits the pink cub in her outstretched arms, though as their fingers brush, she quirks a brow. That aura… So familiar. So much like the rose quartz skull that she kept hidden in a secret location. So akin to the power that she felt the night that Valrae was resurrected. Valrae?! She was here, and in a lovely disguise! She hadn’t meant to draw attention to the woman who had likely gone to such lengths to hide her identity, yet a masquerade was the perfect place for anonyminity, so Lana winks, immediately catching on. Earlier she had a slip of the tongue about it being Lammas, too, but why hide ones heritage? This wasn’t exactly Larket. And it was no secret that Lanara was a witch, though she hoped if any assassins were in the audience that they dared not strike on this night. It wouldn’t end well. For anyone. Thankfully, Trinity was hired as security, and she had many friends at her disposal that would rise to their defense should such a thing arise. “Thank you, Sara Grace, you are so kind to have come out tonight. Congrats on winning the best dressed contest! You look lovely, beyond words. And I know that little kitten will bring you many years of friendship. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon?” Her words hang in the air, before Barnabas makes his way to the stage and sets his chocolate pudding at the edge. Lana narrows her gaze at the pudding, unsure as to why he had brought it along, but nonetheless, she greets him with a smile and rests the blue cub into his lanky arms. “Congrats on being the best dressed male, Sir! I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening and give this little guy the best possible home, ever!” Barnabas takes the feline and squats at the edge of the stage, looking both constipated and awkward at the same time, and it startles the elf a bit, as she steps nearer to ‘Sara’ and the two women exchange a look. The passing of a wretched fart is louder than the beating of the drums, and it’s a miracle that the pirate didn’t split his pants down the center from the sheer force of the gas. The stench immediately assaults the nostrils of any close to the stage, and the Backstreet Bards all howl in laughter as Venin nears the area to provide a clean up. Meanwhile, the hostess is mortified for the male, and trying her best not to gag, or burst into a fit of giggles, as she motions for the boy band to play some music, and she descends the stage. She didn’t have a date to dance with, and she was in –dire- need of an alcoholic beverage.

Xanthe looks at Scandal, "It doesn't seem to have done any damage to you, this 'nerve gas'. You seem in the peak of health."

Jacklin wormed a few fingers under her shirt in an attempt to recruit her flask in for another long battle against her liver. Yet she stopped short of the win and instead took a route she was less accustomed to at this point in her life. The fallen Queen of Larket stood with a few cracks and creaks from her body now instead of just the chair. Though her face was smudged with dirt and lips were cracked to the point of being bloody, those steely blue eyes affixed themselves to Alvina’s face in a particularly oppressive manner. This was the first familiar face she’d seen since landing and finding the right words couldn’t have been harder. “I am,” she begins with a smack of dry lips and a heavy tongue, “just a ghost passing through again, I think.”

Xanthe she would gently place herself between Scandal and Illandria.

Ayras frowned. So the man that won decided to soil his pants. Great. That was a smell that was going to haunt her for days. At least that holy energy was receding as Khitti went back to rejoin her posse. Blackness crept through her veins, literally, until they reached her face. That was as far as Ayras would let the thing advance. "I know you don't like it," she said to the thing inside her. "But you'll have to get over it. I'm not going to attack someone because -you- want to." The staff by the table were all giving her weird looks by that point, but Ayras seemed less concerned with that than by the fact that they weren't keen to serve her alcohol anymore. "Do you see what you did? Damnable shadow creatures." With a shake of her head, the vampire moved away from the drink table, once again skirting the walls.

Rinn was sure she could have free reign of the hall seeing Barnabas had defecated in his pants and on stage none the less. Her jaw dropped though her hands continued their delicate grope, "How embarrassing." She hushed with disgust finally plucking the black rat skull from the vampire's pocket, Oooo were those emerald eyes? Rinn's fan worked furiously as she turned from the pirate's display of why it's important to be house broken, "I might be sick." She lied moving over to a chair for a quick stash away under her long tulle skirt. If she's gone unnoticed she would then flit over to Khitti murmuring about the latest gossip, "Did you see the party pooper? What kind of event is this?"

Artia would hand him a few shots of whiskey, giving the bar keep tips. Her smile was apologetic for her reaction at him placing his arm about her wide hips, she knew he meant no harm. She was still healing, and at times she strike out at times in different was. Leaning in to him, placing a whisper for only him to hear. Pulling away she smiled sweetly, wanting him to forgive her. Holding up a shot, "Cheers."

Xanthe looks Sandal in the eyes gently but fearlessly. "It was an honest mistake, it seems."

Scandal knocked the door aside as he exited upstairs no sooner was he up when every guard in the place rushed him, including his own three some draconian guards, just like in football like a pile up, the only difference was most of the guards weren't human, and worse still the occupant at the bottom was incredibly powerful dragon who had been drugged by food, to act out in aggression and all he had needed was something to trigger it. Chandeliers would shake and rattle as the unseen pile up soon became a very nasty bit of a fight.

Khitti :: That strained smile was still there for Valrae as she approached, “Nice save. Also, congrats on your win. Reminds me a bit of my Tikifhlee.” Khitti shook her head finally, that smile fading finally, “No.” Darkly painted lips twitch downward into her signature frown, her line of sight scanning the crowd again as there seemed to be some sort of commotion. “Why does the past always have a habit of finding you? Just when you thought everything had ended?” Khitti should’ve known better, though. It was just how her luck went. That surge of dark energy emanating from Ayras didn’t help much either, for she felt it from across the room, Khitti’s thoughts twinged with the tiniest of jealousy.

Talyara :: So much is happening that Talyara can barely keep up with everything that’s going on. Between Scandal’s rage, the soiling of trousers, to the raucous notes now coming from the Backstreet Bards, the druidic witch is in sensory overload. Thankfully, now that the dance floor seems to be cleaned up, people are moving to the beat so the crowd around her thins. It is then that Taly catches Lanara maneuvering her way to the bar for a drink. “Pardon me,” she says quietly to Rani, excusing herself to join the hostess in a drink. “Excuse me,” she says in that slightly squeaking voice, placing her hand on Lana’s shoulder. “I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful charity ball. And your dress, wow. Words can’t even describe its beauty.”

Zahrani grimaces as Barnabas' horrid stench reaches her, "Oh, by the spirits," she whispers in response. She does her best to ignore it, before her eyes alight on Rinn, hearing the woman's voice again. Were Rinn to look at Zahrani, she would just see a dapper-looking individual in a suit, the wolf mask staring at her with black voids for eyes. She idly uncrosses her arms, waving her dark-brown fingers at Rinn. Perhaps the woman might find the skin-tone and the long black tail familiar.

Orvho would take the shots and set them upon the counter, a frown on his face that slowly curls to a smile to hers. Seeing Artia lean in, the mask fades away for a moment to let her speak into his ear and form back as she leans away, his smile showing long enough for her to hopefully see. He nods and grabs a shot, lightly tapping it to her. "cheers!' he says with enthusiasm.

Khitti’s attention settled onto Rinn with a brow raised beneath that cat mask of hers, “The party is as they always are in Lithrydel.” The words were strangely cryptic. There was always -something- that went wrong at these parties.

Alvina :: Jacklin’s words have a familiar piercing quality to them that makes Alvina halt. A way that commands Alvina’s full attention, regardless of the chaos that swirled in the background. She was a ghost - long gone and yet standing here at the last place Alvina would ever think to look. “Lady-” She whispers with uncertainty, swallowing her surprise. The bard had been dead set on telling off this imposture for ruining the former Queen’s good name but low and behold Alvina is now the rude one! It had been so long that the old, old anxiety she’d felt in her presence immediately resurfaces as if she’d never aged. Is she supposed to like, take a knee or -? No that’s weird. “I...thought you were gone. For good.”

Barnabas could only hope the attendees would harken to his warning -the surprise accident, that they surely heard. The hostess wasted no time in deflecting the otherwise disastrous faux pas, signaling the band while the cleaners simultaneously set to work. One wouldn't know purely by the man's face alone that such a thing had, indeed, occurred, and he moved as if it, in fact, did not. He crouched low once again, ever so carefully this time, to cajole the blue panther cub. The nearness this created to his own bodily spill seemed to hardly faze him. "I'll call you Puddin'," he said, oblivious to the men with rags that now approached him on both sides. Barnabas was tossing Puddin's triangular ears lovingly when he noticed them. A questioning look was met by them with their frowns, and then he remembered. "Oh, right," he grumbled, this in much more of his natural gravel-toned voice. He lifted Puddin' into his arms, cradling the young adorable ball of fuzz when he rose. "I do hope you lot are in a labor union," he commented before, once again, brushing through the crowd towards the far wall. This time, the patron bodies seemed to part readily -maybe for that inescapable odor of human soil that now permeated him, or the telltale trail of a man betrayed by his own digestive tract.

Valrae watches Khitti’s masked face closely. “Very cute!” She agrees, her chirpy I-wanna-be-happy voice. Despite her best efforts at positivity, the witch frowns. Khitti’s words echo around in her mind for a moment, loud enough the it nearly drowns the party noise. Valrae’s own past had been here in Alvina. Somehow, she’d felt less darkly about it now than before.. Perhaps because she could never quite shake the feeling that she and Alvina would have been close friends if only Valrae hadn’t been so weak willed before. The cub makes something akin to a purring noise and it echo’s in her chest. “You wanna get out of here?” Val asks, concern coloring her tone. Her hand reaches out to touch Khitti’s elbow reassuringly. “We can make the men folk sweat and go get beer and street food?” She was always thinking about food lately.

Xanthe watches helplessly at the pile of draconians covering her new friend , wondering if her paltry nature magics could help.

Rinn was proud of her pun and she beamed brightly behind her metallic fan, "If it's not one thing it's another." She continued with her odd and forced accent, sounding almost like an old British dandy, "Come to many of these then?" She asked theatrically before the sudden rage out break 'startled' the woman. "Now what?" She forced concern into her voice while clinging to Khitti for support, Rinn was sure to shake the woman with her movements while her hands felt for a large dagger, if the right moment arose she'd commandeer the item but how she would store it would be a completely different task.---As for Zahrani, she'd receive furrowed brows and a shake of her head as if she was confused to the woman's wave...The whole, I don't know you, routine.

Khitti smirked at Rinn’s obvious pun. “Unfortunately, I’ve smelled worse. Happens when you become a parent.” She turned her head to eye Barnabas briefly, then shook it, that hilt of Tenbatsu Kaji showing just slightly beneath her hair. Yeah, baby diapers were definitely worse. It was nice that she wasn’t on baby duty tonight. Her attention finally returned to Valrae again, “Only if you want to. We’re here to support your friend. If you don’t want to leave quite yet, we don’t have to.” There was another smile, this one somewhat more genuine than the last. Her anger had faded somewhat, taking a turn to a melancholy tone.

Xanthe looks at Illandria, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Lanara throws back a shot of whiskey and is lining up another when she feels a palm pressed to her bare shoulder, startling her so much that she spills the amber liquid onto the fine table cloth. “Oops.” She smiles apologetically to the waitress and turns to see a woman in a lovely rose gold gown, with honey blonde hair. Likely a stranger, as she didn’t reach out for a hug or the customary kiss on the cheek like the others, nor did she seem to be a foe, as she came brandishing compliments. Lana finds her lips curving upwards in a silken smile as she shakes her head and feels her cheeks flush with warmth, from the touching words, as well as the liquor hitting her empty stomach. How else would she have squeezed into that corset?! She had literally starved herself for three days, and though her stomach was growling, it was nothing compared to the gas pockets that Barnabas was releasing center stage. “Thank you, that’s so sweet of you! I hope you’re enjoying your evening, Miss…?” Meeting those faux-blue eyes, she pauses to wait for a name, as well as peer over at her adopted brother, Scandal. He seemed to be in angry spirits and was busting the place to pieces. Nothing truly surprised Lana after seeing Barnabas make his own version of chocolate pudding at the most prestigious event of the year! Sighing, Lana glances down at the band plays a slow song and couples dance close on the dance floor, “I’m sure your partner will be here to whisk you onto the floor… My date… Well… He died about four months ago in the line of duty…” Why was she confessing this to a mere stranger?! Looking up at the disguised Talyara, her biological sister, she gives a sad smile. “Don’t let me keep you… Go and have fun!”

Jacklin looks down at her feet just as Alvina begins to speak. It was a habit of a time long ago, and not a good one at that. Looking down meant she was perceived as off guard. A look down was often followed by a strike. A wiggle of bare toes relayed the bizarre mood the old warrior was in. Eventually she pulled herself back to look again at Alvina’s face and there those eyes set about searching for something. Direct eye contact with the woman was held for an uncomfortable amount of time. Only when she began to speak did whatever reverie she was in break, “I remember you.” Her words were as steady as they had always been. A little cold and a little blunt was the Jacklin way. “To leave for good would have been too much luck for me.”

Ayras made her way around the room still, eyes ever scanning. The thing inside her had finally, -finally- decided to shut up, and so she was free to people-watch as her leisure. But there was that mask she was wearing. She always hated how the things limited parts of one's vision. And so...she took it off. Someone on her right would see what is surely a pretty enough face, angular as all Elvish faces are, but from the left her scars are plainly visible. Burns marred the lower left half of her face, pulling her lips just barely down into a perpetual half-scowl, which in turn only made her ever-present, trademark smirk look all the more pronounced. It was a good thing, perhaps, that she had kept the mask on around Khitti. Surely she would have not liked the reminder of the failed first escape attempt. A few of the other attendees, people who Ayras did not know, nor likely ever would with their higher stations in life and desire for pomp and circumstance, gawked at her scars, but the redhead just kept moving along the wall.

Artia smile turned to a true one, not forced or faked. After their shots clicked and were taken, she hugged him to her with a soft sigh. "I wish you got to meet Ava, last ball I was at she was with me. Guess I am a little on edge. But. You being here is helping, thank you poison." Another smile was given, lighting up her eyes. "I like that you did though." The vampire almost blushes, reaching for more whiskey until she caught Scandal getting angry. And up the stairs he went, looking to Orvho taking off her mask. "Hold this." She ask, running up the stairs after Scandal. Searching the area to make sure none other than those tackling him were around. "Scandal!" She shouts hoping to catch his attention. "Scandal!" Again she calls for him approaching toward him.

Scandal : meanwhile upstairs.... One guard has found out how to fly, as in towards the horizon, another has discovered that a toilet is not a nice necklace, and yet three draconians are finding being roof decorations to be boring, Scandal paced the floor looking for a new enemy any enemy, while Illandria stayed in the pot she had found to hide in. The gem pendant gone as well as the suit, Scandal was now 9' tall and pacing as a full on anthro dragon, his dark ebony scales and red underbelly exposed, "Come out come out, wherever you are." He said with a dark tone.

Khitti was clung to and… was being felt up. Dangerously close to Tenbatsu Kaji too. An attempt to snatch Rinn’s hand up was made, olive-green eyes narrowed at the woman. “There’s only one person that gets to touch me like that and you’re not him. The sword doesn’t particularly care for being touched by strangers either.” The sword… has feelings? So strange. But, of course, that comes with having a sentient weapon.

Scandal looked at Artia, and moved toward her, menacingly.

Artia lifted her hands up, moving towards Scandal. Wanting to place her hands on his cheeks, "What happen, Scandal?" Her eyes searching his, noting the menacing demeanor of his approach.

Xanthe seeing the strange woman in white chase after her friend would follow suit.

Khitti :: Thankfully for Ayras, Khitti was preoccupied with a certain thief and the unmasking of the vampire went unseen. Probably for the better, yes. Things would likely end in fire. Again.

Xanthe stands beside the strange woman, her dress vibrating w/ natural energy. The plants writhing in place.

Talyara opens her mouth to utter her name but catches herself before she gives herself up. She didn’t entirely know why she wasn’t unveiling herself to her sister just yet, but she wanted to talk to her a bit. Thankfully, she is saved the answer of giving her name as a slow ballad begins to play, and Taly clears her throat. “I am enjoying myself very much, Miss Lanara,” she says with a soft smile. She shakes her head at the mention of a partner but her face falls when Lanara confesses the death of Larz. Taly is rendered speechless for sometime as pain for her sister mingled with guilt for not being there erupts inside her. Her bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as she steels herself to keep her composure. “I am…-very- sorry to hear about your date. I cannot imagine how hard that must have been on you. As for me, you needn’t worry, I am not here with anyone. Is there…something I can do for you?” Taly asks Lanara almost lamely.

Orvho’s arms begin to wrap around her, listening to her words, beginning to respond, his mouth opens to suddenly have her mask given him, he grabs it and looks at her, "What..." she had ran off before he could finish his sentence.

Scandal swiftly turned around using his tail to knock her aside, His roar much more similar to feral creature than a sentient one.

Xanthe is shocked to see now a 9' anthro dragon in place of her friend. notes that it is still Scandal according to the strange woman. Her strong vines shoot from her dress pinning the dragon back tightly.

Scandal :: Illandria said, "He had something that was laced with aggressive powder, I think."

Valrae shrugs and watches Khitti handle being clung too with grace. The cub is still purring. The witch debates how difficult it would be to eat and hold the large feline and if it would be worth it. Probably not. Best to stay by Khitti and follow her lead.

Alvina frowned. Even if Jacklin didn’t remember her, she wouldn’t be offended. It had been...a lifetime. Was the Queen, for how else could she think of her, unhappy to have returned? What soothing words could she offer without knowing the situation? It’s natural that an apology would form her. Instead, she snags a waiter to take a drink order. She gestures towards Jacklin, does she want anything and then moves to take a seat at her table without a word.

Drevyn is late, of course, fashionably so. The vassal of House Nasar is clothed in the finest tailored waistcoat of silver silk with mithril edging, a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black dress pants, with silver and dress shoes of matching color scheme. He wears a half mask, covering most of his face and designed to be blank. His hair slicked back with oils gives his raven black hair a sheen in the light of this hotel. A silver pocket watch hangs from his waist and goes to a pocket on his jacket. Quicksilver eyes scan about, looking for anything familiar. What does stand out most? The draconian that escorts the mage. He is a beastly sort, nearing seven feet tall and armored and armed as always. No mask, no sense of trying to fit in at a party, the guardian is here to serve its master and nothing more. Looking about, the vampire's eyes watch a few go about their dealings as he waits to see where to venture off to.

Artia missed her chance to dodge the tail to get knocked into a wall, standing up dusting herself off. "Scandal!" She hollers out to him, noting he caused a rip in her skirt. "This was expensive.." Artia says annoyed, kicking off her heels and tossing them both at the dragons head to keep his focus on her instead any other that would get very hurt. For now she ignored the pain in her thigh, having got cut from the wall. "Scandal.." she says again annoyed before charging at him, aiming to place her hands upon him. Casting her chi inside the dragon to try to find out what happened to him, finding a sign of poison. If she indeed was able to touch him to do such. Jumping back, putting room between her and Scandal. With a curse as she looked at her dress that now had some blood on it, moving her skirt up slightly to see the cut. Nothing deep or concerning, lucky for him. She would move back to him, seeking to send her chi inside again. In efforts to draw some of the poison into herself, long enough for Scandal to regain his mind and heal.

Lanara is surprised to find that the ravishing beauty at her side is without a date, though she’s greatly comforted by the strangers presence. It was almost soothing to confess your heartache to someone that wasn’t involved, and so she throws back her third shot of whiskey, and rolls her eyes as Scandal angrily storms upstairs, followed by his date, Artia, and a few others in costume. What the hell was going on?! Thankfully, they are out of the restaurant and taking the drama elsewhere, and the donations continue to pour in, and Venin has cleaned up the feces from the floor. A waiter takes pity on poor Barnabas and offers him a pair of lightly stained pants, which thankfully don’t contain body fluids. Lanara looks to Taly and feigns a smile as she clears her throat, “No… But thank you. I appreciate your sympathy. We were very close and it was the closest I ever came to happiness… He was killed on patrol in Gualon. And I’m stronger every day… But in the beginning it was awful. My sister left the lands for her own personal reasons, and I had to learn to live with a broken heart… And I had to deal with everything on my own. I miss her terribly… I don’t even know what’s become of her, as she hasn’t written in weeks.” Her voice trails off and she shrugs, not sure what to say next.

Ayras stopped dead as the man entered with his draconian escort. Well, wasn't that a bit of brutish overkill for protection? She wanted to fight it. Of -course- she did. She wouldn't be Ayras Drathir if she didn't. But those desires were reigned in. This was not the time or the place. And so she approached the man the dragonkin was guarding, jutting her chin in the scaled thing's direction. "You should have stuffed him in a tuxedo. That would have been quite the sight."

Zahrani is honestly getting weary of the fanciness surrounding her, but she keeps such weariness to herself. The feline places her hands in her pockets, wandering over to Lanara and taking a seat next to her and the blonde, disguised Talyara.

Xanthe said to the strange feisty woman "Illandri said he was poisoned Is there away to cleanse his system?"

Jacklin immediately takes back her chair so hard a loud ‘thunk’ erupts from the floor. The former Queen was awkward to say the least. Her armor was gone and nary a weapon was to be seen. A wave of her hand at the waiter signaled that a drink wasn’t necessary. Her flask was at the ready but she dared not touch it in the moment. Instead of drink she steadied herself for another look at Alvina, “How did you know me? How did you remember me?”

Orvho hears the roar and runs towards it, knowing Artia was heading that way, seeing her knocked down by the dragon, he lets out a sigh. Watching her hold her hands out as two doppelgangers of himself appear on either side of her, readying for the dragon's next attack to pull her aside. Orvho himself stays back, unsure what may happen, his eyes glowing blue from under the mask of him as he raises his hands in front of himself.

Talyara nods slowly, as she tucks a blonde stand of hair behind her own tapered ear. “If I may impart some unsolicited advice,” she says turning to look at the hostess. “Happiness is always attainable as long as we are willing to reach for it. It is in my experience that darkness and sadness can be all consuming, and it can make you think and feel like you can never get out of it. But you can, and I have every confidence that you will,” she says with a kind smiling, resting her hand atop of Lanara’s before sweeping the other around the room. “Look at all you have accomplished this evening. Think of all the money that has been donated to such a worthy cause. I am sure you do your fallen man…and you sister, very proud.”

Drevyn allows the faintest hint of a smirk form upon his lips as a familiar voice finds his ear, turning that enthralling gaze of his to settle upon the red haired woman he has come to know as Ayras. A bow is offered towards the lady, he does remember courtly procedures after all, but he knows she'll get the joke intended behind the actions. As he rises he says. "My lady, ravishing as always." Another jest, even though of could tell Ayras took some measure is getting ready for the ball, Drevyn knows this particular soul craves bloodshed and battle. Part of the reason he brought the brute with him, if he was honest. Looking to the scaled beast that serves as his body guard, he replies. "I'd fear if I tried he'd just rip the tailor in half." Again, a devilish smirk. "He didn't fancy the last person who tried to mock him, its how I fetched such a good price on his freedom." Freedom, if that’s what you called it. Drevyn found this one starving and beaten and used as entertainment for a traveling slaver. He bought the dragonborn's freedom, then set him about slaughtering his former captures. The beast found he liked that. Returning his attention to those about him, renowned bosoms and legendary derrieres momentarily catching his eye, the vampire says to Ayras. "Good to see you mingle. Though, I should say you'll enjoy the night a bit more, considering you order has arrived sooner than expected. It looks marvelous, the blacksmith really did outdo himself this time."

Scandal turned as the shoes hit him in his head, his jaw opened and glow formed in his throat, complex mixing of chemical naturally produced by the dragon preparing to be unleashed in fiery inferno, only for his mouth to clamp shut as she made contact with his skin. He felt her power, and it riveted internally he was celebrating great she stopping me,and then he hit the floor, and his opened releasing a sticky flaming napalm which pooled out. He tried to pass along the message, through her magic, "Hurry, or that napalm is going to explode."

Rinn give one solid tug of the hilt when she feels no one is watching, if she is successful she will just continue on to the next if caught she will throw some fit about how her object snagged her bracelet nearly breaking the thing. Regardless of the outcome Rinn would be on the move, her graceful walk slowly morphing into a waddle as she seemed to collect more and more of the attendees belongings. Barnabas was next but not as a mark. "Good thing you made a generous donation." She mumbled while her thumb and index finger pinched her nostrils, "And I hope they have a hazmat team." As Rinn spoke she looked over her shoulder checking if in fact there was a biohazard crew. "I know I said distraction but ah...that was something fierce. I'd ask you to take some of these items off me but I'd prefer not to pick diamonds out of your feces." Rinn's words that were directed for Barnabas were low enough for only his ears no matter how hard any eavesdropper may have tried. Though the longer she remained in the pirate's presence the harder she gagged. The poor redhead afraid of the worse, chunder thunder.

Artia noted Orvho was here, and using his illusion magic to make two copies of him. But she was busy and trying to help Scandal, feeling some of the poison pass into her as liquid drained from his mouth once contact happen. Eyeing it, and barely receiving his message before she took a leap backwards to where Xanthe was. "Artia, nice to meet you. Excuse this.." she says wrapped her arms around the dreads waist, tossing her as far as she could before such exploded. Running towards the real Orvho to try to block the explosion form the human getting harmed. Closing her eyes tight. Readying for it, "Lay on it, Scandal. Help block some of it. It's yours and shouldn't harm you, I hope."

Xanthe seeing Scandal being calm again would retract her vines into her dress, but stand there so very confused.

Barnabas gave Rinn a look as if deeply insulted. "Ye think I shyte m'self on purpose, woman?" he muttered without hint of a smile. "'S'at rotten Gaulon grog I been gluggin' away fer days. An' the puddin' wasn't all that great, either." He clutched Puddin', the panther cub, close, like a child at a carnival would a stuffed animal toy won in a game of chance. The man scanned the party, aware that the Venin and his cleaning crew were probably following him with glowers and mops and rags. He scratched at his scalp beneath his tricorne hat. "I needa drink," he decided and stated out of the corner of his mouth. "An' 'en I'll dance m'self clean agin."

Drevyn steps aside of Ayras, and quickly readies an ivory wand from its housing upon his hip and quickly breathes life into arcane verses. From the tips of the mystical instrument comes forth a swirl of white light that travels harmlessly about the crowd with startling speed to envelop the situation unraveling around a few others that caught the mage's eye. The spell, aimed at also helping to contain a possible blast from erupting and causing harm, creates a sort of magical dome large enough to protect those immediately around it while small enough to not cause too much alarm and freak people out. Hoping this helps, the vampire tries to go back to his dealings with Ayras is a subtle manner as if nothing has happened.

Alvina takes her drink and taps it nervously. How did they know each other? She cleared her throat. "I was the post master in Larket.You...gave me my first job. Gave me the first place I ever...belonged here." Alvina's smile is thin. "I owe you a lot..." She stands, pushing in her chair and granting Jacklin an easy smile. "If you decide to haunt around, you should find me. I'd like to catch up." She bows her head respectfully. Old habits die hard.

Khitti held out her hands to Valrae, offering to take the cub from her. “If you’re hungry, you can go get something to eat--seeing as how you spilled your food earlier.” She stuck out her tongue, teasing the witch somewhat. “I know how to take care of one of these pretty well. I wonder if it’s going to get as tall as the Tikifhlee. Might just be a Shadow Plane thing though. Everything’s bigger and meaner there.” Even her spider-son Francis had a bitey mood. She peered around the room again, each of the groups of partygoers doing their own thing. The templar somehow manages to find Ayras in the crowd again… with another vampire? It didn’t take much for the former vampire to figure Drevyn to be one of the house vampires of Vailkrin. He seemed to ooze the same sort of demeanor as Larewen and Bradyn. There was a prompt rolling of her eyes at the realization.

Zahrani gets to her feet as soon as she hears the explosion upstairs, removing her mask for the first time during the event. Cyan eyes look towards the stairs, unsure of what exactly she could do. She can heal people, not buildings, and she doesn't hear any cries of pain (though the staff were probably a little freaked out by the fire). Turning to Taly and Lana, the panther says, "I smell a lot of smoke. Perhaps we should leave?"

Scandal felt himself coming to the poison withdrawn, he sees the napalm, and does the unthinkable he gobbles up what he can and lays on top of what is left. Suddenly the floor rings like gong, a vibration extending outward and a dark black smoke rising from around scandals body and soon his mouth. "*Cough* So that’s what if feels like going off inside of you....*cough*."

Orvho seeing Artia running towards him, his copies fade away, the real Orvho wrapping his arms around her as another appears behind her, copying Orvho's actions. His instinct kicking in, hoping the blast wasn't as large as he thinks, he and the copy begin backtracking away from the possible blast range, pulling and pushing her along.

Jacklin follows Alvina’s face as she stands and at the bow of the woman’s head she returns an almost wincing smile. It was the ghostly reminder of a time so long ago. A curt nod was given and a wistful word was sent up, “...I shall.” Jacklin drops her face once more in quiet thought.

Drevyn returns to his dealings with Ayras, the title given by her, Lord, making him smirk a bit more openly as he replies. "Almost fitting, don't you think? Lord Drevyn Ryser. A good ring to it." Not knowing if his spell even mattered or not (he tried, so he is content) the mage simply listens to Ayras' proposition and nods. " I don't see why not, speaking of, I'd like to inform you that I plan to reopen the fighting pits. The slave trade has been hitting a bit of a boom, and I've acquired quite a bit of new inventory. I'd like you to come see what I have, maybe you could warm up there?" Here, once again, those quicksilver eyes of his scan about, once looking over the scene upstairs with the possible dangers, to the crowd, catching the glimpse of another woman who seems to have rolled her eyes. He'd wink back of course, scoffing from afar was often the first hint of jealousy, after all. Either way, Ayras was given full attention shortly after Lanara is given a proper once over. Rumors of the witches beauty have reached even Vailkrin, and truth be told they hold true. Quite a beauty indeed, though its the way that dress follows her curves that the mage has to catch his eyes lingering places they shouldn't be. Legendary indeed. Anyways, back to Ayras, he says to his fellow vampire."Either way, be it my new pet of fresh meat, you'll know well the full capabilities of your new arms soon."

Valrae passes the yet to be named cub to Khitti. It continues to purr. “Good. I’ll need the help…. And maybe!” She replies, adding, “I don’t see a mean bone in this one’s furry body though,” She leans over just enough to scratch the underside of the sleepy panther’s muzzle. “Not my fault!” Valrae laughs at Khitti’s teasing and straightens herself again. “I’m ready when you are.” Her eyes scan the crowd again, following Khitti’s after her curious eye roll. Val doesn’t recognize anyone. She leans close to Khitti to whisper, “I can’t believe that man… shat himself,” She fights her laughter. Being out of the line of fire made the whole thing suddenly comical. “Wild night.” The witch moves to weave through the crowd and to the door. Maybe she would see Alvina on her way out. She kinda wanted to say goodbye. Strange world.

Lanara listens intently to Talyara’s advice, not even having the slightest inkling that this woman was her sister in disguise. After a moment, she gives a slow nod, and the smile on her face is no longer feigned, as she grabs Taly’s hand, and tugs her sibling-in-disguise onto the dance floor. The Backstreet Bards were now playing a lively tune, and Lana wanted to enjoy at least one dance at the ball she was hosting, and as her hips lightly sway from side to side, a male stealthily approaches the pair. “Hurry up! Fire! This whole place will blow!” He’s shouting and causing a scene, and Lana follows his line of view to the spiral staircase, where she spies Scandal choking on something at the landing. His damn smellale?! “Oh no! Everyone out! The place is going to blow! Get outside! Fast!” The elf is about to turn for the exit herself, when an elderly fellow donning a chicken suit grabs her wrist and roughly pulls her into his arms for a dance. It was ‘Grandpa’ the infamous puppeteer from Taly and Lana’s youth! Lanara is horrified by the actions of the guests, and now Grandpa, and all she can do is awkwardly try to free herself of his hold, and she hopes she’ll make it in time to get to safety.

Artia opens an eye while the other squint closed, feeling Orvho try to push and play her out of the range of blast. Feeling the ground rumble with vibrations, nothing felt burning or bleeding. Opening her eyes, looking up to Orvho face, giving a nervous laugh as she pulls herself away. Looking over to Scandal as he coughs, coughing herself as black like dust leaves her mouth expending parts of the poison she took. Giving a firm smack to her chest as the rest is coughed out, "Scandal, you okay now? Or do I need to knock your ass out?" She limps towards him, glaring as a mother would to a child. "What the hell man?" She glances to Orvho, "Orvho, Scandal. Scandal, Orvho." Looking over to the dryad with a silent apology written all over her face.

Rinn shook her head with disbelieve, one could never tell with that Barnabas, "So that wasn't the 'big' distraction." Rinn looked mortified for a moment before her lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Oh how embarrassing." She stated the obvious as the took a few paces away. "A drink is a good idea...Avoid the pudding." There was a sick joke and I sigh was offered to the cleaning crew who groaned at the thought of Barnabas' dirty dancing routine. So again Rinn would part ways with the pirate after the they visited the punchbowl. Rinn then excused herself to find the bathroom where she would rearrange her acquired items so she could tone down that waddle. Soon she would reappear heading back in the direction on Talyara, "I don't think we've been introduced." Her accent was back, "Lady Melanie." She'd offer a hand in hopes to slide that bangle of hers on to her own wrist.

Zahrani isn't leaving without Lanara or Taly. She walks up to the strange chicken man that had just grabbed the elf, applying a swift boot to Grandpa's tailfeathers and speaking in a stern voice, "Out of the way, fool! This place is coming down!" She motions for the other two women to follow her out of the building.

Orvho gives a nervous smile to her laugh, letting his arms unwrap as the copy fades away. He follows behind her close. Her greeting between them causes him to give a quick wave, the situation causing him to giggle a bit under his breath.

Scandal lay motionless as insides still felt like they were on fire, he looked up at artia, checking on him. "I dunno getting my ass kicked might feel less painful than having once insides contain an explosion." He turned over trying to crawl to the door. Only for Illantria to appear and to try to help him up, another person stopped him clearly the owner. "You better be able to pay for the damages, or their will be some reckoning." Scandal coughed, "I'll reward you with a new hotel." he coughed.

Khitti smirked at Valrae’s comments about Barnabas, “Some people just can’t handle the excitement of party, apparently.” She would nod, then removed her mask. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. I wear a metaphorical mask enough any normal day--I don’t need this one on top of it anymore.” She tried to put it on the cub, but to no avail, it just dangled around its neck instead. They’d of course have to pass by Ayras and Drevyn as they left. Khitti knew this. She knew it well. Nothing was said of course, as she led Valrae towards the exit, but there was a piercing, cold stare directed at the other redhead--that spoke more than what Khitti could possibly put into words right now. She’d resume her conversation with Valrae about how to take care of the panther cub, as they walked out the door, that stifling holy aura following right along with the templar.

Talyara squeals as she finds herself being grabbed by the hand and tugged on the dance floor, the witch laughing in spite of herself. She just sort of sways at first but soon she begins to get into the rhythm of the upbeat song. That is until someone is yelling about the place being on the brink of an explosion and she looks around nervously. What was going on?! And if that wasn’t enough, a man donning an offensive chicken-type suit suddenly grabs the hostess and begins to forcefully dance with her. Grandpa Krawtch? Not on Taly’s watch! That man had caused enough bad memories to last a lifetime so forgetting she was supposed to be in disguise, she roughly grabs the fowl man’s shoulder and forces him to face her just as Rani is sending a kick his way. “Hey! Talons off the lady, Nugget!” Taly balls her hand in a fist and thrusts it in Grandpa’s face in an aggressive punch, one that knocks him out cold before he hits the floor. The force of the hit causes her mask to shift slightly and part of glamor to fade. Taly looks back towards Lanara and sighs. “I guess the gig is up.” Talyara dramatically reaches up and tugs off her mask and as she does, the blonde hair suddenly springs up into unruly, chestnut waves and the blue eyes are emerald green with a blink. Talyara smiles awkwardly at Lana and gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “Surprise?”

Ayras grinned widely at the proposition of getting to feel the heft of a sword in her hands once more. Drevyn's wink did manage to distract Ayras for a moment, though, and she turned to try to spot what he was giving such a gesture to. It was then that she realized that things were amiss and that...was the building really on fire? "Hm. I suppose we should retire from this event. I've dealt with enough flames to last a lifetime." She returned her gaze to Drevyn, a ruby eyebrow lofted on her forehead. "I don't suppose you have a teleportation spell up your sleeve, do you?"

Barnabas was making for the wet stuff when he heard a familiar cry. The place was going to blow! These words rang in his mind clearer and sharper than probably most at the party, the result of having survived more fiery explosions and fires at sea than any other mortal man should or probably had. There was no fault in his step after that first cry, but neither was there the undue haste of panic. No, the pirate's half-drunken mind sobered in a flash, and he searched the crowd for the less responsive. Lanara, the host, she would certainly be assisted out. Rinn...where the hell did that devil woman go off to?! He spotted her vacating the lavatory, and dashed against the pressing opposite flow of fleeing bodies. He took hold of an appendage, and rather roughly, dragging her behind him as he made his way towards the exit, his other hand guiding his way along the wall and periodically tossing obstructing bodies from his path. At the door, he pushed her out before him, and after a last glance behind, he emerged outside, his white pants sodden and browned, but certainly not out of fear from the building a-coming down.

Artia noticed an almost like golden dome about the area she was in, a curious brow arch not sure who it what had cast it. Muttering a silent thank you to whoever did such, just in case plan A didn’t work out. A heavy sigh escapes her as Scandal moves to leave with his date, shaking her head. Looking down to the slit in her dress, some blood about the area. Looking past the slit at her cut from flying into a wall, back to Orvho. "Drinks? Yes, definitely." She answered for him, there was a party down stairs, and she wanted to be there where she couldn't hear her thoughts. "Maybe we can find some lucky bar tender to have a handy first aid kit?" Glancing at her heels that are nowhere in sight, with a shrug she leaves them where ever they went. "Nice to meet you Xanthe." She calls over her shoulder, heading back downstairs.

Ayras noticed Khitti marching by with her charge and -finally- recognized the woman. Her cold stare was met with a fanged grin and a waggle of fingers. The tease lasted only for a few moments, however. Clearly she was not the only changed woman after the ordeal with the dragon.

Xanthe sighs at her shattered dress, the nature magic only having so much power, conives to at least cover the important bits better, focusing her energies, manages with the remaining magic to build a two piece with a short skirt and a midriff top.

Rinn found herself completely overwhelm and confused about the happening of this charitable event so her eyes flit about to lock on Barnabas to offer a jerk of her head towards the stairs. This was her non-verbal way of stating her exit was coming. So with that warning she carefully maneuvers from the room and travels up the stairs, with the waddle. The waddle of a woman smuggling out many of the attendees objects. No one is offered a farewell.

Drevyn watches as the woman with the holy aura shoots pure venom towards Ayras in passing, though its the pure divine aura that envelops her that has the vampire's own magical warding react in a fashion best described as electrifying. As if static built up, the tensions between holy aura and magical warding is only dwarfed by tensions between Ayras and Khitti, though it passes just as quickly as the templar leaves. Here, the vampire's ears catch a request for a teleportation spells, and well, never one to miss a chance to show off his arcane skill, he replies. "But of course." The ivory wand used just moments prior is ushered forth once more, intricate hand gestures and arcane verbage rush past his lips, and within moments a portal finds its way next to the pair. Here, a quick cast spell amplifies the man's voice as he calls out. "COME, QUICKLY, I CANNOT HOLD IT FOR LONG." People see the flames, see the chaos brewing and rush forth towards the portal to Kelay the man has opened, allowing those whom wish to escape possible disaster the chance. Here, Drevyn holds out his hand to Ayras, and says. "I've another one for us, so we can return to Vailkrin, if you wish."

Scandal hadn't left yet, he had to pay the bill, "That’s one grape fruit sized ruby," He said sputtering between words, "One 50lb gold bar, One 30lb emerald, and if that doesn't cover the damages I can fly a ton of gold over to cover the rest." He said, as Illandria wrapped a torn blanket around his shoulders, Trinity the three massive draconians, looked like they had taken a serious beating and stood at nearby To them, just to keep the riff raff flowing away from them. "If you want, I know can supply some crystals to make a stained gem floor," He said to the manager who looked a little dumbfounded at what the dragon was paying with.

Zahrani said to Talyara, "*with a barely contained grin* As happy as I am to see you, we should probably get to safety."

Xanthe "it is so confusing out here. Maybe my sisters were right, I was foolish to think I could learn anything about the world abroad" she says sadly to no one in particular.

Ayras waited for the last of the guests to pass through Drevyn's portal before she would reach for the mage's hand. "Vailkrin would be nice. I'm not overly welcome in Kelay, as it is. I've also got more propositions for you once we get there." The black veins reaching up her neck squirmed. Oh, they knew what this proposition was, alright. They did not like the idea.

Orvho eyes were on Artia, noting her dress and seeing the blood. He moves to tend to it, which was cut off by her question, chuckling as she answered for him. "Perhaps we will." He says, still chuckling at her. "Would you like something to cover your feet?" He asks, catching up with her quickly.

Artia noted the flames, leaning her head back with a heavy sigh. "Never mind..." over hearing two vampires, one she knew. She shots out to them, grabbing Orvho as she limps forward trying to not bleed too much. "Mind two more to Vailkrin?" She gives a small grin to Ayras, hoping was okay for two additional passengers.

Xanthe "You don't have to give me anything really. All I want is friends."

Scandal coughs out some black smoke, holding up a few gems each the size of cherry grape, "If you know where to find someone who can string these together you'll have nice necklace, and maybe next time you and I meet, I won't go berserk." He said trying to smile, "You'll do alright out here, it’s a crazy world, but it’s a crazy world full of potential friends, my friend." He handed her the gems. "You looked very cute tonight." He coughed into the blanket and tried to stand, as Illandria helped find better seating near a window. "Artia, I am sorry I was a handful, I think I owe a bigger apology though to Lanara, maybe you can talk to her for me, get us to meet somewhere, I no doubt will be in the dog house for a week for this."

Drevyn finds a servant that is so very confused lurking nearby. The poor girl doesn't know if she is to leave, stay, serve drinks or kiss highborn ass. Either way, Drevyn's gaze finds her and ushers her to him. He hands he two pouches of gold, one lager than the other and says. "Bring this to Lanara. A donation from Drevyn Ryser for her animal sanctuary, the other is yours child. Don't spend it all in one place." The servant looks astonished as he feels the weight of each bag and hears the clang of coins within. She nods, bows, curtsies and everything she can before she rushes off to Lanara. Here, Drevyn turns back to Ayras and says. "Very well, a moment more, if you don't mind?"

Orvho places his hand around Artia and onto her wound, pressing onto it to try and help with the bleeding. He thinks for a moment if he should of done that, but shrugs it off, figuring she would push him away if it was a bother to her. "We'll find you something soon." he says, hoping to reassure her.

Drevyn looks to the new faces that ask him about transportation to Vailkrin, and he says. "I don't see why not, though once I open it, do hurry, its a tiresome business, holding open portals."

Ayras watched the gifting of gold with a look of amusement. No matter his reasons, she found his use of coin to get the attendant moving rather inspired. His request for another moment is met with a nod, though she couldn't help but to look up to the burning roof. She could block some memories from two years ago, but the fire...that was not one of them.

Xanthe smiles shyly at Scandal, "thanks, I hope you're not in too much trouble I'll vouch with Illandri that you were poisoned. Somebody should look into that and punish the one who did it."

Artia nods, looking to Orvho with a smile. "Get up, pet. We are heading back to Vailkrin, hanging corpse is calling my name."

Scandal chuckles before coughing, "Your never in trouble if you can pay for what you damaged a hundred times over. Who knows maybe it was time to renovate this place anyway.”

Xanthe "I won't give up either, thank you for your kind words. maybe it's just proof of what I've always thought, there's more to learn than what our roots tell us."stretches out a hand to Scandal "It was a pleasure to meet you and I truly hope to see you again, soon" she smiles, her spirits revived.

Scandal took the dryads hand, and accepts it, "Till we meet again." He coughed, Standing he shuffled slowly outside and looked at Ilandria, "Time to get you home, as it looks we won't be spending the night after all." Scandal felt himself creak and groan as his form shifted and changed to dragon form, he lowered his left wing allowing Illandria to climb up and once situated he leapt into the sky. Flying west back to Venturil.

Lanara is even more confused than her guests, as there’s smoke still emanating from upstairs, more than half the party has left, and a few of the staff are assuring her that nothing was amiss. Where was Scandal?! She was going to assault her brother for sure when she saw him next! A few minutes ago she had seen Artia, with blood on her dress! Sections of the walls were missing, severe damage had been done to the establishment, and her masquerade literally turned into a gas chamber! Thankfully, Drevyn managed to open a portal which would help those that wished to flee to safety get to the humble town of Kelay. She’d be sure to thank him, if only the creepy old guy would release his hold on her wrist! She growls and aims to knee him in the groin, at the exact same moment that Zahrani unleashes a kick, and the pretty stranger punches him in the kisser! Grandpa stumbles back, before falling unconscious onto the floor and as those soulful chocolate hues lift to thank her two heroine’s, shock registers, and the room begins to spin. Either that whiskey was much more than whiskey… Or her sister was standing before her, in the flesh! “Ta-Ta-Taly?” The band stops playing music and begins to pack up, not all that upset at having to end their gig early, especially after their stage was shat upon. Lana looks to Rani, and then back into those mesmerizing emerald hues, as Taly ascertains that it is really her in the flesh, and that it was supposed to be a surprise. “Taly?!” Without another word, Lana tears off her butterfly mask for a better look at her little sister, and pulls her into her arms, speechless. So many questions remain unspoken, as they cling to each other, their embrace ending all too soon as a shy waitress interrupts and gives Lana a large bag of gold coins. “Drevyn, you said?” Releasing Taly, she has the waitress point out the benefactor, and walks over to him to give her thanks. She was a little tipsy from drinking on an empty stomach, and she nearly falls onto his lap as she bends at her waist to whisper in his ear, “Thank you for your donation… You best get to safety like the rest of us.” A gentle squeeze is given to his shoulder, before she heads out with Taly and Rani. This was one event she would never forget, due to the many mishaps, yet some good had come of it, as the sanctuary would be funded for years to come from all the generous donations.