Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Official Masquerade Topic - Winter 2020

It seemed magic was in the air and a fine glass of honey mead was set next to Bree as she sat down to watch. She sipped it and thought it pretty good. She then realized her clutch purse was gone, but she found her invitation as a scroll along with that gold coin in a pocket in this blue dress she had on. She then watched the exchange that was happening by the orb of the White Rose. She was indeed Alice who had stepped through the looking glass...

In sooth, the Sword was grateful that the Dragoness and Aspen both stepped in to help. For when the Sword laid his own eyes upon that pale bloom, he felt its pull as well. If he hadn't been tasked with keeping Alfred away from it, he might have been in the other fellow's exact place.

"I thank you, my lord," he said to Aspen. "The rose is ... alluring."

The Sword sidled around so he was once again standing between Alfred and the rose. He faced away from the flower, though he could almost feel the warmth of it radiating against his back. With a shiver, he drank deeply from his cup of mead. He nodded to Dragoness. "Perhaps a dance ...?"

The flower became a grand target during his missing hours? It was of no surprise with what he felt earlier. Each step was taken with care as he circled around the group and the flower. Two petals left, could it truly be such a crime to touch it now?

The shadow stirred inside once more as they focused on Alfred. That rose was the answer to so much. Anther petal on the ground shifted as magic touched it then caused it to twirl away as if grabbed by the breeze. "Could it be that easy?" He thought to himself.

Aspen nodded to The Sword in thanks, but he did not say anything. He took a look at the rose and found...nothing too special about it, though it was beautiful. Was it magical? Just a pretty rose? He didn't know, but he didn't want to find out. He then noticed a petal drop and someone else looking at the rose. "Uh...I don't think we should be touching it," he reminded this other person-or being. Aspen now realized why it was special...at least he thought he knew why it was special.

Gyrfalcon’s voice is soothing enough to calm him down at least, but the words are confusing. How can something be both good but also not good to look at?

Still, he considers his words, looking up in thought. Soon enough, he puts the sketchbook down again and makes his amendments: BAD FLAWR

That was one—technically two warned, if Sarthelia was also watching! Time to warn—oh! A new person! Hopefully Sabrina isn’t too startled by the tiny wooden figure running over with the sketchbook!

One more petal falls; one remains. As it does so, the rose's energy seems to shift. Still full of excitement and wonder, joy and songs, but now edged with the very thinnest shadow of regret; the fear of things ending. Like the bittersweetness of watching a beloved child leave the nest, the pride and wistfulness. An acute knowledge that this moment in time is perfect, or has every potential to be so, but that the moment is ending. The party goers as a whole feel the sudden urge to do something make the most of this final hour -- to build something or create something unique and lasting, a symbol of this time that could last beyond the hour's closing.

"That might be a good idea," Alfred said to the Dragoness, nodding slowly as he still broke free from the flower's mental clutches. "And maybe a refill." He looked at his spilt mug of mead, now half empty. When The Sword came between him and the rose, and thus between him and the Dragoness, Alfred took a step back. When the other man asked for a dance, Alfred would have smiled big if he could. Some babysitter he turned out to be! Alfred slunk away from them, regardless of the interaction, and went to scoop another mug-full of mead from a barrel. This one was a different color, a light red. And it was delicious.

When he turned, away from where the rose was poised, to look for a seat, he found that he was already right near a blonde woman in a blue dress (Sabrina). She seemed to stare at everything the way he had when he had entered; in awe and amazement. "Welcome," Alfred about slurred to her, lifting his mug in greeting. "And how are you this eve?"

Yuki had just returned from a stroll. "I think they said 12 hours, right? I think we're nearing that time..." Yukina knew they had to reveal who they truly were behind their masks. Yukina was anxious for that moment. All these strangers she never met before could possibly be new friends! "Everyone's seeming to be quiet..."

Aspen took another look and noticed that there was only one petal left. He blushed and began to panic. "Oh..." He rushed outside to calm himself down, hoping no one would notice.

Gyr had never been much of a people person. It wasn't at all as if he didn't like people, and he could be social, if coaxed or given good reason. It was just that he didn't much know what to do around them! But he didn't mind little wooden men, and certainly not- finally- a pet at the party. When Sarthelia approached and Xefry began bobbing about, the man instantly lapsed into stunned silence. He took in those gleaming emerald eyes and formidable tail spikes with unabashed intrigue. Then the creature's keeper spoke, and at last the calm line of his lips split with an earnest pearly smile. "And I, him!" He peered fondly back at the tiny messenger as he amended the warning, watching it scamper off before turning towards Sarthelia again. What was he? Oh, but that would be rude to ask if the thing happened to be sentient. He would settle for something simpler. "Xefry . I haven't heard a name like it, nor seen anything like him."

As he strode past the manor towards the sound of the bustling crowd, kneewm began to feel a twinge of concern, it sounded as though the party was in full swing, surely he had not arrived late again. As he walked under the floral decorated archway, he looked towards the stage where the band played and saw a white rose seeming to glow dimly as if was in the middle stages of folding its petals inwards. He was indeed late.

"Well" he mumbled, "Shifting through different planes does mess with ones sense of time" With that he began to search for the duchess one of his first friends that he had made in this realm some decade ago and one that had helped him greatly in his search for the plane-shifter.

But indeed the crowd was thick in this masquerade party, and his small stature was no help, as nearly every attendent of the part was vastly taller than him. In an instant he realized his mistake, and instead felt blessed that his small stature instead aided him as he turned his head downward to hide his face an donned his copper colored mask with an intricate clockwork patter (Which in fact was a mechanism that would shift the masks shape in accordance with his facial expression).

Looking around he began to take in the details, there were people of many kind, mostly humans, as it seemed was common through most realms, but many other races as well, including the birdfolk that lived in a surprisingly small number of realms. However it was the attire that truly showed the diversity of the part, everything from dresses and suits to hauberks and plate armor. And as it seemed, many of the people weren't limited by the time period either, he saw people from times long passed dressed in furs, to people in gleaming black armor that reminded him of his adventures in space.

"Indeed" he thought "It is a shame I am late as now i will not have time to meet all these fine people" indeed even as he had entered he had seen people leaving

The Dragoness offered Alfred another friendly smile before looking to the Sword as he spoke again; she nodded slightly in agreement to what he said, even though he was talking to someone else. She could feel the allure of the odd white flower, but perhaps it was the magic that infested her own being that kept her from being too strongly drawn to the rose.

She was aware that the Sword moved, but when he addressed her, her eyebrows shot up beneath her mask. Was he asking her to dance? She felt her face grow warm; it was a very unfamiliar feeling and she hoped her mask was enough to hide it.

"I...haven't danced in quite some time," she said slowly--before it could be taken as a refusal though, she added on, "But I would be honored, sir."

She hesitated, trying to remember the etiquette for these sorts of things; a little uncertainly she extended a gloved hand to him, hoping her instincts about what to do were correct.

Sarthelia extended her hand towards Gyrfalcon, her palm upwards and Xefry slid down her arm and seated himself on her hand. His stance was much more friendly, almost like a dog or a cat with his wings tucked to his sides and his tail swishing back and forth behind him. "He's being quite the social critter today. He's a close friend of mine and has been a great companion for the better part of 8 years now. He's the son of a dragon I saved, though he's only half dragon." She said, her voice more musical than normal. Xefry seemed like he wanted to be held by Gyrfalcon, maybe as a gesture of friendship?