Cylus 1st, 717
A massive room stretched out beautifully decorated in extravagant colors. A giant marble floor was filled to the brim with dancers in a large array of fancy clothes. The women wore beautiful dresses and tall heels, their ears and necks and wrists lined with the jewels of a thief's wildest fancy. The carelessness brought on by drink and entertainment was often the perfect hunting grounds for such unsavory characters, but none existed currently in this war ground. War ground was a term used quiet loosely because the true nature of the setting was that of a ball. Though to some the word ball was so thoroughly attached to and similar to the word war that they brought the same emotional effect the trill either was mentioned in conversation, though the nature of the connection varied from person to person. The men were of course entirely different creatures dressed in fancy suits with pointy toed dress shoes and a demeanor that could easily make someone assume they had an iron pole in their backs instead of a spine.
The room itself was swathed in bright and cheery colors, the floor was a heavenly marble though it wasn't the typical white that could cause someone to cringe should they stare at the blinding stone for too long. Instead there was a lovely pinkish tint to it and a luster that was highly reminiscent to that of a pearl. No matter how much the people in the center of the room danced the floor did not loose its luster. The room was arranged with the center of the floor being completely open to the the dancers while every edge of the room was lined with a table. The tables were stacked high with foods beautifully presented from rare birds and beasts to fruits that came in such odd colors and shapes one might not believe they even were real. The beauty of the room was something that couldn't be captured in the likes of reality, there was a perfection that made everything seem fake. Yes, the food and people, the large and illustrious tables, even the beautiful floor which was supposed to be stable under one's feet all had a falseness that equated them to plastic. Beautiful, too beautiful to be true. At the back of the room smack dab in the middle was a throne.
The people who populated the room all held the same air of falsification, though their existence was an entirely different kind of lie. Not only did their exterior speak of a beautiful plastic fabrication, but to speak to one would expose the plastic nature of every lady and gentleman in the room. These ladies and gentlemen wore no faces, instead they were entirely blank slates in the shape of a head. Each spoke a beautiful lie so that he or she could turn and stab you in the back without a second to ponder the repercussions, let alone one's own fragile feelings upon the discovery of such a betrayal. One could only imagine the owner of the throne to be the queen of lies, a beautiful and untrustworthy beast that shines with more magnificence than any Yludih elder. Yet all the fake little people were content with their little world of lies and beauty. Surrounded by illustrious perfection, wealth, and power they were safe in a shelter of discrepancy and lies that couldn't be shatter no matter how hard someone tried to melt the disgusting little place down to its core. Similarly the people like Yludih were shielded by waves of light that blinded a viewer and hid their disgusting cores. Eventually when you told a lie enough times people started to believe you.
The illusion of the beautiful never ending party was one that eventually came to be trusted and believed. However not all of the party glimmered and shined with the same grandeur. The corner shown true was dark, it dazzled honestly showing the world the liars refused to see. The floor was a deep black that glittered with small traces of light, a pure shine of silver. The beauty of the corner was a very different kind of beauty. Instead of the bright and almost painful colors of the rest of the room this corner was dim. It wasn't kind and yet it wasn't harsh, instead it was a mix between the two. By comparison it was muted, over shadowed by the bright pastels and gaudy horror brought fourth by the 'beautiful' dancers and decorators. Yet there was a gentle kind of majesty that gave it far more elegance and less childish quality. The colors were powerful and wise in comparison to the ignorant brightness of the monstrosity surrounding it. It's appearance something more natural, kind of majesty one might notice at the setting of the sun or in the middle of clear night when you go outside for some fresh air. The walls were painted a deep and beautiful blue that seemed endless, yet there was was an obvious end to them. There was a measure of their depth that gave them realism and yet still maintained their beauty. The one table the rested at the edge of the corner wasn't piled high with foods, instead it was decorated to a normal amount. Instead of a plethora of exotic snacks it had common but delicious meals, things you knew at a glance would taste good because they were the foods you grew up eating. Despite the cool colors there was a welcoming warmth that was barren in the cold and unforgiving spectacle that was the main part of the room. To that corner there was only one occupant who refused to stand, let alone dance.
The door of the ballroom swung open, merrily inviting anyone in who wished to enter. Jovial and sweet it welcomed any who were willing to partake in the festivities. A woman finally entered the room from a door behind the throne. It was obvious that she claimed the title of the queen. Her features were nearly as blank as the rest of the room, except one could see the vague outline of where everything would have gone. The one feature she did have was a mouth, large and full of sharp teeth worryingly similar to daggers. The dangerous fangs were just the tip of the ice burg. The woman wore a long dress that was a pale kind of yellow, not obnoxious but pastel enough to get on one's nerves. Though it might be easier to ignore considering she didn't stand out much in the colorful room. Her hands were tipped in long claws, painted green almost as if they were a threat of toxicity. Her lips were a deep and succulent red which sharply compared to the color of blood. The rubies which decorated her dress shone with the same dangerous glint. "Dance, sing, drink, make merry!" She woman crowed. Her voice was high pitched almost like she was trying to sound cute and endearing. The noise only came off as painfully shrill to anyone unfortunate enough to get an entire ear full. The way she flashed a toothy smile was daunting to say the least.
From her corner Nightshade ignored the commotion drawing her body closer to herself. Even she was in a dress, a fine satire gown which trailed to the floor. In her sitting position it easily covered her entire lower body, masking her feet. The rest of her body already brought her enough shame, she didn't need her feet being visible. The dress looked very much like the feathers which adorned the appendages of her back. The back of the dress was open allowing the freedom of her wings which were looped with silver chains. The hemming of her dress was trailed with diamonds, similar gems dangled from her hair with was neatly done into a bun at the top of her head. Her collar bone was gently kissed by the presence of a silver necklace ending in a charm that had a striking resemblance to a raven. At the same time she she turned her head the necklace's charm turned to the likeness of a hawk, almost like it couldn't decide which bird it wanted to be. Better yet it couldn't decide which bird better fit its master. Her lips were light pink in color, much like a gentle flower or a rose quartz. Her eyes glittered a dark sapphire as her gaze turned from the queen and towards the open door.
