Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Official Masquerade Topic - Winter 2020

8 petals have now fallen from the enchanted rose; 4 remain.

The Grand Duchess turns toward the mysterial royal, raising a glass of... something she had just plucked out of the circle of food. "Ah, you're too kind! I'm so glad you could make it this evening. There's still plenty of time to make mischief."

While she'd mostly been standing there and staring, she now seemed to be given a shock back to life and moved forward to be able to help the poor victim of the food trap. She moved some of it aside, starting to dig her way towards Annette so that she could get out and inside.

"How could this happen, how is this possible?" She asked nobody in particular while she continued to dig through the pile to fully set the woman free.

"Do we have to go?" the teal child sized girlishly sounding individual asked out loud, glaring over at her pink, also child sized, sibling who drove forward with a clearly eager pace.

"It will be fun!" she replied in an equally effeminate voice with a large smile on her face. "Imagine all the people we can meet!"

"I know enough people already," the teal replied, "I'd rather just go home to my laptop."

"Or your video game right?" the pink one nearly mocked their sibling, "It's good for you to meet new people. Who knows, maybe some of them are as big of a dork as you," they giggled.

The teal trailed along slowly, silently for several seconds looking off to the side as she walked. "It's not the quantity, it's the quality...."

Shaking her head, the pink one smiled, shaking her head in the slightest as she cast off the idea. Sure quality was important, but the more friends you had the happier you were right?

"C'mon, we're almost there, and it's already started," she said turning back to her sister and grabbing her wrist. She tugged harshly and increased her pace, a bit forcefully. The teal one made her disagreement verbally in the way of guttural protest as she was dragged along. "This will be fun, I am sure of it," the pink one stated with a grandiose smile as she closed in on the masquerade.

There he was, several hours late! To be fair, he needed some help figuring out what the very fancy paper that nearly knocked him over was. Not to mention, the journey was long for someone as tiny as him!

He did have the foresight to bring a tiny sketchbook, strapped to his back like a backpack, a pencil tucked inside and his trusty paintbrush in hand. He's even made a little lion mask for the occasion. This was a very important quest; someone might miss a party!

The little wooden figure runs towards the tables in search of the host, careful to duck between the people's legs. He runs towards the lights, the food, the decorations, the music, the... He can't help but stare around him, the invitation in hand. Everything is so pretty.

The stranger had only just arrived, yet already there was much to take in. He was witness to the end of an epic poetry battle, to the vanquishing of Wales' very own Meri Lwyd, and the tail-end of foodstuffs heckling a party-goer. His eyes go wide beneath his mask as the sheet collapses- utterly empty- then they crease with a spreading smile. He slides the invitation into a pocket and lodges his parcel into the crook of an elbow. Now free to follow the example of their apparent host, he applauds to congratulate the clever rhymers, gloves muffling an already light clapping. A toast is raised. Bound by decorum, he plucks a glass from a passing attendant. The brandy is raised in mute cheer, then brought beneath the beak for inspection, and a tentative sip is drawn. His mouth promptly puckers in the fashion of one who is not keen on brandy, but it seems impolite to waste. For better or worse, he cradles the drink in one hand, with the pretend posture of one who intends to eventually imbibe more.

"Of course, Your Grace. I wouldn't miss this and it would take an army to stop me from coming." She answered with a smile and a nod. She didn't curtsy like she would've to someone that was higher born, which might've been a dead giveaway of her royal nature if it weren't for her clothing already doing just that. Still, she wished to respect the host and would certainly address her in proper manner.

She looked at the circle of food and then back at the Duchess and the others that were present. There was a bit of wonder as to what had been going on when she arrived, but she decided not to ask. If it had to be known, it would be told. If not, then maybe it would be added to the stories of this realm.

A kind nod was given to the others that surrounded them, including those that had just arrived.

"Ahh, many strange things happen under the light of my rose, though it blooms only for 12 hours each year," the Duchess answers Alyda's query. "But at least our visiting spirit only re-arranged most of the food, and the only actual loss was the wine. We could have been left entirely without refreshment if our brave rhyming heroes hadn't stepped in!"

As they clear a path to Annette, the woman is allowed to head off into the house for a rest.

"I rather suspect that if an army thought to stop you from coming to my party, they'd somehow find themselves attending the party instead," the Grand Duchess quips to the mysterious royal, tossing a wink in her direction.

Sartheloa was more than happy to see the thieves be banished. She immediately began feasting on a large and juicy cut of meat, probably from a boar or something similar she had to assume. She ate quietly and her companion Xefry feasted with her as well, remaining at her side and eating from her plate. She was proud of Annette who had proven to be the leading savior in the feast. She smiled as she enjoyed a serving of various foods that she could eat with seemingly no end. While she didn't acknowledge the Duchess or other guests visibly, she was silently aware of everyone around her. The sounds they made cueing her in on their actions to some degree. After a healthy feast, she sat down in a chair and relaxed, content with watching the reverie around her with a slightest smile on her lips.

The explanation had her quite baffled and to her, didn't really explain much. That wasn't the Duchess' fault though, as Alyda was still getting adjusted to worlds that had magic in them.

"It was a pretty rose." She said once she had cleared a path for Annette. Besides that, she didn't say much to it as she felt a bit intimidated by those that were of greater importance than herself. Instead, she made her way towards the back of the group, where she witnessed two semi-arguing girls that seemed to be arriving.

"Many strange things indeed..." She agreed. What she had witnessed so far told her enough to not argue that. The Princess had seen a lot of strange things in her life, but this had certainly made it rather high on her list. "It's a shame... The wine, that is. Had I known, I would've had some of our finest delivered here too." She added as a single one of her fingertips made it to her chin, which was tapped while she was lost in thought.

"Ah well, I do come bearing gifts." She said as she turned to a single servant that appeared behind her and was handed a wrapped gift, which she in turn handed over to the Duchess.

"I am not sure if you already possess one of these, Your Grace. If you do then perhaps it would be something nice to pass on to one of those brave heroes of your realm." She clarified, even if it didn't tell her a lot about the gift itself. The wrapped package contained a single notebook without lines, as it wouldn't even need writing in.

To the comment with the wink, she couldn't help but to let out a chuckle. Well yes, either that or they would've met her favorite daggers. Of course it was against policy for her to really discuss any of that, so instead she winked back.

"I'm sure they would. I doubt many could resist a party such as this, Your Grace."

Sleepy silver eyes continue to carefully consider those present. They do not linger long, seeming to flit away just before they are caught, simmering with intrigue. The matter of their arrival here was magical in and of itself. The variety of others lured from other lands- other worlds, even- is enough to sate even the wildest imaginations. His feathery head dipped in return to the Noble who called the cheer. Mute approval passed over the very helpful individual (Alyda) aiding the champion rhymer. Curiosity had his stare fixed, for a moment, on a pet dragon (Sarthelia's) picking at a plate. Then, something wonderfully small (Look) bolted by his boot. Adjusting the parcel he'd carried close, the falcon's focus was lost to the partygoers completely. He spent some time scouring the ground in search of the scurrying distraction. Only when he caught wind of the gift-giving did he return to the present, keeping to his comfortable sideline to gauge how the hostess received favors.

"Is a pretty rose," the Duchess corrected Alyda, with a gentle firmness. There's a sparkle in her eye that underscores the significance of this statement. Her lips part in delighted surprise as the mysterious royal presents her with a gift, but she raises her gloved hands, refusing to take the package. "My my, how generous and thoughtful! But I could never accept something in return for simple hospitality. Please, give it to our friend over there," she gestures to Serthelia who sits at a nearby table. "She was one of those who saved our refreshments from all being stolen by hungry spirits!"

The slight point of the Duchess' ears may hint at some fae heritage? In which case, accepting a gift would create a debt she'd be loathe to accept lightly.

It takes nearly being stepped on by one of the guests to break him out of his trance, but he does jump and run out of the way! It's just his bad luck that in doing so, he's also jumped into the nearest table leg, and small as he is, it's still enough to knock over a stray bowl. He barely has time to hope it doesn't break in the grass, before it swallows him completely.

At first, there is no reaction. Eventually the bowl begins to crawl its way through, weaving between the crowd and underneath the tables. There's the occasional pause and tapping though.

Some hours later, the Sword finally returned. His expression couldn't be seen under the mask, but his shoulders were slumped and his gait slow and shuffling. He rounded the side of the manorhouse and returned to the glade, where he paused and looked across the gathering. It seemed there had been some shenanigans in his absence, and there were some new masks in attendance. The Sword goes to stand in front of the glowing rose, gazing up at it.

There was something peculiar about the way the Duchess insisted to correct the statement about the rose. Perhaps even more peculiar was that she refused to take the gift and hand it over to the hero herself. After all, it wasn't the Princess who had to thank the hero and to her it seemed almost inappropriate. Then again, she knew better than to disagree with or to disobey the host and so she nodded, her lips that had formed a doubting line for a split second returning to their former smile.

"Very well then. It shall be given to her as you desire, Your Grace." She said, turning to the hero and walking towards her at her regular pace. In the back of her mind a memory tugged on her, reminding her of places and races where accepting things were reason for favors that had to be repaid. She didn't pay it any attention though, the knowledge not seeming important as she wouldn't speak on the subject in this situation.

As she reached the table and the woman, she handed over the wrapped gift by placing it on the table.

"Anything that it's told, it will remember. It will only repeat what it's told once it hears the voice of the person who spoke what was told first. If you want it to forget, you must command it to forget. Make sure to command, not tell as it will otherwise remember that it was told to forget without forgetting." She stated, as if those were the most simple and obvious rules in the world and there wasn't much more to anyone having such artifact in their possession.

The Duchess' attention turned to the bowl currently crawling and tapping its way across the yard. With an arched eyebrow, she takes a few steps to close the distance and stoops, her skirts billowing around her, to carefully lift the bowl. "Well, hello there..! And who might you be, little friend?"

Caught mid-tapping, he stumbles, only managing to avoid falling by using his paintbrush as an awkward cane. The panic of being discovered is only momentary, and he manages a shy wave of hello to the very pretty lady.

He’s about to try to mime the answer to the question when he remember that wait! He’s in disguise! He points to his paper lion mask, and tries to puff up his stance. A mighty beast!

Oh right! He holds out the missing invitation, waving it around in the air before smacking his own face with it. Then he holds it out to her, tilting his head questioningly.

Alfred had come in through the back entrance, from where he had taken his leave several hours earlier to eat, drink, and become increasingly merry. He was on the verge of losing his wits before and the fresh, frosted air and a belly full of good food was just what he needed to jump back into the fray.

And what a fray it turned out to be. Things seemed more.. Messy, more empty, than the last time he was inside. He had wondered what the clattering was. There had been nothing but absurdities since he arrived there earlier. He blended in perfectly well. It made him relax some, with help from the wine he had previously grabbed, and began admiring the different beings there. Until he noticed the rose and how it had seemed to shed it’s pedals.

He walked over to it, just behind The Sword, and after some gazing himself asked, “What do you think it means?”

"Ahhh, of course," breathes the Duchess, casting an eye over the invitation the little figurine proffers her. "The mighty beast that I summoned to pace at my side and guard me from wicked guests. Perhaps my little lion would like to ride on my shoulder in order to keep best watch?"

Her peace of mind had returned; a slow turn about the grounds had been just what she needed. Coming back into the light of the dancefloor and main gathering area, the Dragoness' countenance was once again calm and quiet, though she seemed a bit tired now, her pale blue eyes surveying the grounds. Things seemed quieter than they had been when she left, and several new faces had appeared.

As she'd done when she first arrived, the solitary figure lingered on the edge of the gathering, searching out a familiar mask or perhaps someone new.