• Event • The Mummer's Ball

Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.

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Arlo Creede
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Thu Nov 05, 2020 10:06 pm

Vega was here in the ballroom somewhere, he was sure, Arlo thought as he wound his way between brightly dressed and bejeweled bodies: Some of the singles likely as anxious to find dance partners; and escape Betsy's promised penalty should they fail in that first big endeavor; as Arlo was unconcerned about it. If not for the promise of finding his wife among the party-goers, it was unlikely he'd have been here at all. But the sooner he found Vega, the less chance of being paired with a stranger who didn't deserve to have him trodding all over her feet.

Arlo didn't recognize most of the faces in the room. But Vega shouldn't be that hard to find. Firstly, she was taller than many women. And her hair as often as not, was a windswept riot of red, and he had it on good authority that the color of her dress wasn't a subtle one. It was all very Vega, and Arlo smiled as he snatched a champagne glass off of a passing tray, and grabbed some sort of savory bite off as he went. He'd have already found her if he'd been there to witness her dressing down Betsy, back at the entrance. And he wouldn't have been the least surprised.

When Madame Leona took to the stage, he politely stopped to listen. When the woman's eyes swept over the gathering, if Arlo thought she might have looked longer his way than others, it could have as easily been his imagination. He dismissed it, and moved on before the onstage dance lessons began. He hadn't gotten far before finally, a familiar face appeared and Arlo smiled widely as Vivian approached. "In the flesh," he said, smiling wider as he greeted the two children at Vivian's side. "Vivian. It's good to see you here. I was starting to think I'd been gone so long that there were no familiar faces left to be seen."

As for the hat? Arlo grinned again and nodded, conceding the point that it was rare to ever see him without the thing on his head. "It didn't quite match the suit, I'm afraid. I was concerned that Betsy at the door might have had me tossed out on my backside." But no, as for Vega, he hadn't. "I've been chasing after my wife since the first time I saw her," he quipped. Whether Vega had liked it or not, back then, and during a time when she'd been taller than him. That wasn't the case any longer, but not by much. "Some things never change. She still eludes me."

It still seemed a little strange, that from his perspective he'd been gone for a very short while, but from that of others, it was much longer. Even though he knew all the reasons why. "I was chasing after my father, who's proven to have a real knack for courting disaster, if on a relatively small scale. Maste's Maze, near Desnind. Have you heard of it?" His mortal father, Jonas, that was, but not the one who'd sired him; though Arlo didn't mention it then and there. Was Vivian aware that he was mortalborn and that Cassion was his father. He couldn't remember having mentioning it, though he or Vega might have. It mattered not at all to him if she knew. He wasn't in the habit of hiding the fact.

"But what of you? It's good to see you looking well," he said. "I've only returned this evening and haven't learned much yet. But from what I've heard things have been somewhat exciting in my absence?" After a bit or two, the waves created by a parting crowd, making way for an enormous figure to pass through, caught Arlo's eye. Quite possibly one of the largest individuals Arlo had as yet to meet. Not many of them around, he thought, and he wondered was this him, the one that Vega had mentioned previously. At any rate, he smiled and nodded politely when Varlum approached and greeted Vivian.

And when the Ithecal turned to him and introduced himself, at least that part was confirmed. Extending his hand to Varlum, Arlo smiled. "Varlum. Pleased to meet you. I'm Arlo Creede. Vega's mentioned you to me on several occasions. It's nice to finally meet face to face. I regret it wasn't sooner, but I've only just returned after some time away. As I understand it, the Lightening Knights have been kept particularly busy of late." He'd hardly had enough time since returning to gain a firm grasp of all that had happened. That would take time.

A bit or two later again, a sound reached his ears that was all too familiar. Arlo glanced towards the stage and smiled. His view of her might have been impeded by other bodies along the way, but the sound of her playing was unmistakable. He dabbled in stringed instruments and was at best, average. Vega though? And the tune she was playing, left no doubt at all in his mind. "I think I've finally found her, after all," he said. "I look forward to seeing the two of you again soon." Maybe again that evening or elsewhere. "Will you excuse me?" With that, Arlo began the short trek to a place nearby the stage where he could watch Vega playing, and maybe even catch her eye once she was done.
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Fri Nov 06, 2020 1:36 am

61st Vhalar, 720:
Round 2: Post 2
In The Beginning.....


Vega said what she said to Betsy and she said no more; simply turning and walking away. She raised a brow at the lack of thanks or acknowledgement from Betsy's victim, but then she dismissed it, and her, as not important. She walked into the ballroom and Vega was able to see around the room; she was pleased to see Doran, and she made her way over to chat with him. Betsy - and all the nonsense associated with her - was forgotten.

Doran

Vega noticed him looking at her chest, and she smiled. "They're my magic freckles," she said with a grin. "An' yeah, I remember." Vega nodded her head, thinking. It pleased her, more than she might have thought about and certainly more than she'd admit, that he was just straightforward and said it how it was, with regard to their shared dream. He deserved just the same, Vega realised. "I'm not goin' to stop an' chat long, because I think it's important that you hear this, an' then I leave." Vega gestured to her chest - her fingers touching the 'magic freckles'. "I'm marked by Xiur," she said with a smile. "When he came an' marked me, I told him I dreamed about you, an' who we were runnin' from." She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner before she continued. "An' why we were runnin' too. I'd learned to Dreamwalk in between dreamin' with you, an' him visitin', so I knew it might be important. He told me that you were filled with hope, an' I didn't need to worry because he understood. So, I don't worry." She gave a slight grin. "I also was right overwhelmed, cos he gave me his mark. One of my favourite swears is 'by Xiur's perky nips', an' I nearly swore a dozen times." She smiled and then, of all things, Vega leaned forward and kissed Doran on the cheek. "I don't worry, an' you don't need to be worryin' about it no more. No one's chasin' you. Just keep on bein' filled with hope an' you're doin' good."

But, no matter what, she was who she was. "An' don't go gettin' ideas. I'm a married woman, an' I'm that in love with him that I'm goin' to bloody well kill him next time I see him. You have a nice night. My name's Vega, an' I'm in Storm's Edge if you want to chat. Or, you know where to find me in your dreams, yeah?" And with that, she turned and walked away. It didn't do to discuss it, to fuss over it, to pick at it. It was like the thing with Betsy, in Vega's eyes, or with the idiots talking about red hair. Say what needed to be said, do what needed to be done, and then move on. She didn't need acknowledgement or thanks, she didn't do what she did for anyone else. She did it because it was the right thing to do.


Playing the Violin

Vega had no issues with being clear, it had to be said. Having been clear with Doran and - hopefully- passing on a little bit of hope to him, Vega saw the familiar face of Cecily and she approached and got hold of a spare violin they had. And then, she played. As always, of course, her mind and her thoughts and her heart was with her husband., but it had been nearly an arc since she'd seen Arlo. As soon as he was within range, she'd feel his proximity, she was sure, and so she pushed him out of her mind.

Except she didn't. Instead, she played and she remembered.

Eventually, she stopped playing, and she opened her eyes once more.


When the music finishes...

She stopped playing and the last echoes of her music reverberated around the room. Vega's eyes opened slowly, languid lids lifting as she experienced the music literally encompassing her body. She knew that there was an impact from her playing and she was more than happy to provide the boost to people. A little hope, sown around the room. She didn't even think about whether she should or would do that and, as her eyes opened Vega had a soft smile on her face.

Her eyes opened fully and she realised that she was looking into a pair of very familiar eyes looking right back at her. Vega's heart stopped in her chest and her eyes turned sudden, solid white. "Arlo?" Her voice cracked as she spoke his name and she cleared her throat and spoke again. "Arlo?" The second time was still a whisper and yet, she knew he heard.

In the trials and seasons which followed, Vega wouldn't be able to say why she did what she did next, but she slowly, carefully, put the fiddle down and she walked slowly to him. Her yellow dress - a colour she shouldn't be able to wear, by all accounts but Vega didn't care, she liked it - moved as her steps took her to in front of her husband. It had been an arc, nearly, and so much had happened. So very much. Without thought, Vega put her hand out and held on to his, suddenly tightening as he held his hand out to assist her walking down the steps from the stage. Her eyes, now starting to show flecks of other colours, never once left his and Vega came to a standstill in front of him.

There were, of course, a hundred questions she had for him, a thousand accusations, swears, crazy language and dropped word-endings. Yet, she did not speak any of them. Her hand in his tightened and then Vega smiled. Violet and pink fought for dominance in her irises, but Vega was unaware of it. He was here. He was actually, completely, physically here. She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been quiet for - longer than usual, Vega was sure of that. But it was Arlo. He was here. He was here and her whole body reacted; she had always heard the expression but now Vega felt her legs shaking and her knees hit, one against the other.

Half a step forward, hand in his, and they were close enough to each other that she could feel his breath against her skin, see the way his pupils dilated. Her fingers wrapped around his, possessively and, for just a moment, her lips trembled. Then, because she could never be silent for too long, Vega found her voice and she spoke; as she did her voice trembled, husky with emotion.

"You're late, Arlo Creede," she whispered. A brief twitch of her fingers and she added. "Bert's gonna be well annoyed. He's got used to havin' his own half of the bed."

Last edited by Vega on Fri Nov 06, 2020 12:46 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1245
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Fri Nov 06, 2020 3:46 am





























After making her way into the ballroom, Elisa had noted the presence of many she knew. Yeva, Balthazar, Vega, and even Doran – who had caught up with her for a conversation. Making plans to follow up with the rest later in the evening, she paid particular attention to latecomers that were announced well after the rest. The goal? An introduction to Madame Leona, to attempt to ascertain her connection to Daia. She understood the rumor could simply be that but, in her experience, rumors generally were based on some sort of truth…and it was that truth that she was trying to track down.

The young woman hadn’t been close enough to hear Betsy’s rude comment to Yeva, and that was probably a good thing as there were a few choice words she could call her in other languages that Besty wouldn’t recognize. Hearing the comment about ‘reds’ however, managed to make her laugh a bit to herself. While she didn’t know a lot about Ilaren, she did know her hair color and thought it rather ignorant of citizens to mock it in the manner they were. Of course, there could have been something she was missing. Did they think red-hair was sacred to Ilaren and therefore anyone else having the same hue shouldn’t be allowed in the Glass Quarter? Was it related to the city’s apparent hatred of the Aukari?

A mystery to pursue another time.

As the late arrivals were introduced, a particular pair did manage to catch her interest. ‘Tasha of Strosdyn’ and ‘Elmo of Ivorian’ they were called…but she simply knew them as the pair that was in Faith’s shop with her when she was looking for her gown. Simple greetings had been exchanged – nothing more. The man’s association with Ivorian was notable to her. As a girl raised to learn what she could about Ethelynda, the city’s connection to the Immortal was undeniable. Perhaps she could glean some information from him? If nothing else, it might prove to be an interesting conversation. Before deciding her course of action, Elisa listened to the rest of the introductions to determine if there was anyone else of interest – only a person from Viden that she didn’t recognize – that she needed to consider speaking to.

Madame Leona began to address the room and several things became clear. First, ‘estimable Betsy’ was a big fat liar – very un-estimable in Elisabeth’s book. Was it possible there had been a lack of communication between Madame Leona and her? Possibly, but unlikely. Betsy seemed the type that enjoyed making people believe she held the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. That compulsion seemed to have gotten her in a bit of a pickle this time. Regardless, the dancing requirement was null and void, easing her mind considerably.

The second thing that caught her attention was the announcement of – if she was understanding correctly – assigned seating for dinner. It could be an interesting situation but not one she was overly concerned about. Being well-read meant there was a good chance she could find something to talk to a stranger about. As well, the number of faces she recognized that evening was much higher than anticipated, increasing the odds that she would know at least one person at her table.

Hopefully.

Throwing the masses that were unskilled at dancing a lifeline, it was announced that a demonstration would be offered. While she was still immensely grateful that she didn’t have to dance, there was no harm in watching the tutorial so that if she needed the skill later on, she would have some idea how to stumble through it. Curious sapphire eyes took in each step shown, retaining them to memory as best she could.

Knowledge was always a good thing.

Dance knowledge, check. Time to find ‘Elmo of Ivorian’. Searching the room, she caught a glimpse of him on the opposite side of the room. His expression was much like the first time they had met – sullen and very much not wanting to be there. At least that’s what it looked like to Elisa…but who really knew what went on behind someone’s gaze? Moving towards him, she noted that he was alone for the moment, though it didn’t much matter as she would have spoken to him regardless.

Weaving through the groups of people slowly, she put on her best non-threatening smile and gave him a small wave, making sure to speak in a soft, measured tone. “Elm? Hello again. We met at the clothing store. It’s nice to see you again….”

The whole process was much like approaching a horse for the first time and trying not to spook it – calm, gentle voice, and no sudden movements.



Last edited by Elisabeth Angelus on Sat Nov 14, 2020 5:08 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 822
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Sat Nov 07, 2020 7:39 pm

He was late, of course, but Hart didn't mind too much. He'd argued with himself over whether or not to attend the ball... but in the end, he had decided that yes, he should attend.

The rumors of Madame Leona and Daia were too interesting to ignore, of course.

And besides that, Hart loved social events.

Hart hadn't had the opportunity to attend such an event in arcs. If his memory served, he'd last attended a ball four arcs previous nearly to the date, in Vhalar 716. Additionally in Vhalar 716, he'd attended his brother's play, a Royal Tragedy. Though attending a play wasn't quite the same as attending the Mummer's Ball, the play had, of course, featured theatre... so it was similar, in that way.

As he walked to the ball, Hart thought of other such events he'd attended in the last number of years. He was surprised that he hadn't been to many. It seemed like he just... didn't attend them, now.

Well, a lot had happened since Vhalar 716.

But he'd decided to attend this event and truly, he was glad. Hart arrived, late, to the doors of the Mummer's Ball.

"Evening," he said to the doorstaff, and thanked them when they opened the doors. To the staff, he might seem to be someone of importance, dressed in clothes of the finest quality. But actually, Hart didn't think himself to be important, not in the way that the staff might; and besides, he was quite poor. For the occasion, however, he was wearing a heavily-embroidered knee-length cloak with a dark fur collar.

The embroidery on the cloak was excessive, and that was why Hart had bought it.Image He'd decided that if he was going to buy fine clothes, he might as well buy something that he liked.

It had been overcast on the walk over, raining lightly, and Hart looked at himself in the mirror before running a hand through his hair. His hair was damp, and he pulled half of it back in a messy bun.

Under the cloak he wore a light green, layered shirt, soft and lightly embroidered. The pants were blue grey, and the shoes ostentatious gold. Hart grinned down at the shoes a moment before putting his hands in his pockets and half-strutting out of the dressing rooms.

Like one of the other attendees, he was wearing a lion locket.

Hart smiled as he made his way through the reception to the stair. "Eroim, of the Andresmarie," he said. His title announced, he descended into the ballroom.

He seemed to have just missed... some sort of announcement by Madame Leona, but that was what he deserved for being late. His step light, he made his way through the crowd. If the opportunity arose, he would introduce himself as Hart to Madame Leona herself, though he wouldn't spend too much time vying for her attention. If he received the opportunity, he would say, "It's lovely to meet you, Madame. I thought it polite to introduce myself, as your guest." He smiled and bowed, a hand resting over the mark of Daianya on his chest.

If Madame Leona left it at that, he would excuse himself.

A young woman on the stage seemed to be tutoring some of the guests in the basics of dance, and Hart ran through the steps a number of times. When the violin stopped playing, he made his way back through the crowd and tucked himself against one of the walls, smiling once more at the room at large.

Hart truly loved events like this. He loved crowds and dressing up and fashion. He loved the politics and etiquette and posturing, the fun and the dancing. He loved the sometimes raucous drunks, and the sounds of excitement and music, of talk and laughter.

He leaned, his back to the wall, and drank in the event like others might drink liquor.

He was just glad to be present.
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Sun Nov 08, 2020 7:15 am

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A smile flickered across Doran’s face when Vega claimed that the marks on her chest were magic freckles, and his blue eyes twinkled slightly. When she told him that she remembered, he inclined his head. He did not say anything, but waited for her to speak again instead, his gaze still focused entirely on her. When she told him that she was marked by Xiur, his eyes widened a hint. After all those centuries, there were not a lot of things that had the potential of surprising him anymore, but that statement definitely did.

He did not move away from her, even though a part of him expected her to attack him and try and strike him down. Neither did he try to explain what he had done and why he had done it – and that he had been wrong, so very wrong. He simply listened to her, standing as still as a statue.

For a moment, when she told him that Xiur understood and that he didn’t need to worry, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

He had not expected to ever hear those words, not from the Immortal he had tried to kill and not from one of his marked. A part of him wondered if he actually deserved to hear them, because he was not sure if he could ever do enough (although he would continue anyway, for them, for Idalos, because it was the right thing to do). When she told him one of her favourite swears, he laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth once more.

He was just about to open his mouth and tell her how much he appreciated her words when she leaned forward and …

… kissed him on the cheek?

He blinked, momentarily doubting what had just happened and wondering if it was a dream of sorts, and if he had never really arrived in Rharne, but Vega Creede, a Blessed of Xiur, had definitely just kissed him on the cheek. He met her gaze. He didn’t think about how he was supposed to react to that. He simply returned the slight grin that she had given to him.

A moment later, he remarked, in a serious tone of voice, “I thank you, Vega Creede, with all of my heart.” Vega might not need his thanks, she might not even need to be acknowledged, but in his opinion, it needed to be said, nevertheless. She had given him something that he had never expected – something that was more valuable than mere gold.

“And you do not need to worry about me getting ideas”, he assured her in a more light-hearted tone of voice. There was someone that he loved as well, after all, someone that had given him hope, opened his eyes and changed his entire life for the better.

“I would very much like to talk to you again. I will find you one trial, in Emea. I’m a Dreamwalker, just like you”, he explained in case she was wondering how he planned on finding her again before he added in a sincere tone of voice, “You have a nice night as well, Vega Creede.”

Having said that, he inclined his head and smiled once more before he turned around and walked away as well, still thinking about the extraordinary woman that was Vega Creede.

~~~

The son of Ziell was not an entirely graceless individual – one couldn’t reach a certain level of expertise when it came to swordsmanship and unarmed combat if one was didn’t know how to move. He had never really been a dancer though. When he listened to Killi’s instructions and tried to repeat them – he was not so arrogant as to assume that he would be able to dance well without them – he found that it was relatively easy for him though, unexpectedly easy, in fact.

Perhaps, it was due to Vega’s words that he had never thought that he would hear, not in a century or even a millennium – or her music that was so beautiful and touched his soul and that made him think that he would be able to accomplish anything, even things that he had never done before or thought of. By the end of the man’s demonstration, he was smiling slightly, and he came to the conclusion that that basic dance lesson had actually been …

entertaining.

~~~

In hindsight, the Mortalborn realized, when Yeva froze upon hearing his voice, he should have realized that the prospect of dancing with her teacher had the potential of making things worse. He had been unable to ignore the young woman who had been a victim of Betsy’s cruel ridicule though. Besides, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly she had done after they had parted ways in Ashan.

When Yeva blushed and subsequently acted as if what had happened hadn’t bothered her at all, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he raised his glass in a toast as well and remarked in a tone of voice that was deep and tinged with a hint of amusement, “I am, am I not?” A moment later, when she informed him that she wouldn’t mind someone to practice with, but that she was actually here for something else, his dark eyebrows rose slightly in curiosity.

“Of course”, he replied in a calm tone of voice and inclined his head when she asked for permission to steal him for a trill or two and followed her to a spot away from the other attendees where they would be able to talk in relative peace. She was nervous, he noticed, and she rambled a bit at first, but he did not interrupt her or ask her to get to the point. Instead, he listened, quietly and attentively.

When she told him about the game that she wanted to invent, he nodded before he remarked, “It makes perfect sense. It’s a good idea, Yeva, an excellent idea, in fact”, he amended. He was not humoring her or pretending to approve of her idea in order to make her feel better after the incident with Betsy – he never did such. He had said what he considered to be the truth. In his opinion, it did constitute an excellent idea.

“My former apprentice”, he told her – his tone of voice was somewhat thoughtful now. “Suffered a traumatic accident that left him in a wheelchair for a while. It was obvious to me that he struggled with being so weak and unable to do the things that he had used to do. I cannot help but wonder if he might have benefited from such a game – a game that could be so much more than mere entertainment.”

He had immediately realized the vast potential of Yeva’s idea. It could be something that people could do for fun – a way to have adventures inside your mind – but it could also be used to help heal, to comfort, to distract, to let people like the ones that he had seen in the Infirmary in Viden experience the world outside their rooms in a way and provide them with a bit of relief and a brief moment of respite from their suffering.

“I’m neither an artist nor a writer, but if you are looking for someone to exchange ideas with and invest their money, I would be honored to support your project. Of course”, he spoke. “I’d like to hear more about it, what kind of materials you plan on using, for example, whether there will be a game board, figures or rules – if you have already thought of such things”, he finished and smiled at her, a smile that was not quite as subtle this time. It was obvious that he was impressed.

It was just then that another former student of his, another potential dance partner, announced his presence. The Mortalborn turned around and inclined his head in a greeting. A moment later, when Balthazar mentioned fighting the esteemed Betsy, he raised an eyebrow slightly. He decided to not comment on that particular statement though, but remarked in a calm tone of voice, “I cannot speak for Yeva, but I do not mind at all, Mister Black. I was rather surprised to see so many familiar faces here as well. I had not expected the Mummer’s Ball to attract such an international crowd”, he added.

“I have to admit, I was hoping to talk to you as well”, he continued. “I would definitely be interested in continuing or conversation after the ball. Perhaps we will have a say in who we sit next to during dinner though?” he mused and raised an eyebrow slightly. What Betsy had said before they had entered the ballroom proper had given him that impression (Madame Leona’s later statement had contradicted that though).

There was another thing besides their future seating arrangements that Doran was curious about. Balthazar had called Yeva Matchstick. He could not help but wonder how she had received such an unusual nickname, but he was not at all sure if it would be appropriate to ask either of them about it. For that reason, he simply waited for his two acquaintances to react to what he had said, an expression of calm curiosity on his face.
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Mon Nov 09, 2020 7:50 pm

Gennadiya found herself distracted in her movements by the one name Betsy. The young Lysorian woman listened and felt very sorry for both the victim and the attacker. The pretty young lady was very brave to ask her question, and Genna hopped that she would ever let that go away. The attacker clearly struggled with issues and Genna had meet many people like her while growing up. Given a little authority and she didn’t use it to help but to abuse others.

“What should we do to her.” Nayeli whispered.

It was then that Vega charged into the situation and called Betsy out on her rude behavior followed by others. Genna nodded her head in agreement with had had been said by others and even offered Vega a nod of approval as she stepped away.

“Okay so it is our turn.” The dirri said.

“And what good do you think that’s going to do at this point.” Genna whispered back to kind hearted creature. “Vega and others have all very effectively called her out. At this point anything I did would be peddy and vindictive.”

Genna was greater by silence from her companion. Genna hummed a sound so the dirri would get the affirmation of how much Genna’s loved her. The two turned around as at that moment someone who had once been a patient offered Genna greeting. The young woman gave them her happy smile and asked how they were doing before moving on. The young woman half listened as others were introduced as so she did catch the muttering about red heads. Genna continued to general smile it really was habit but shook her head in sorrow at the silliness of red head prejudice. Partly because to define people by there hair color was way to broad especially since thanks to the Ember plague thousands of people were now red heads in the court. Also because this hostility didn’t do anything but make enemies of those who could prove to be allies.

Genna shook her head and turned her attention back to the event they had gathered for. She did notice the arrival of Lesley of Viden who she had meet at Faith’s shop. She raised her eyebrow in surprise and paused to wait until Lesley walked into the room. Genna approached him and smiled. “It is nice to see you again.” Genna paused to see if he was more talkative then at the shop.

Once her conversation with Lesley was done she moved on pausing occasionally to saying hi to past patients. Genna in her wandering found herself standing by the man who had been introduced as Eroim. The platinum haired young woman could tell he was enjoying himself from his smiles and the way he watched. Gennadiya approached him curious to meet someone new. “Hello. I don’t believe we have meet. I am Gennadiya Lyosha.”
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Arlo Creede
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Mon Nov 09, 2020 8:56 pm

It was clear that Vega's playing had an effect on the others around them. Arlo was all too well acquainted with the power she wielded, simply by taking the violin up in her hands. He wasn't immune to it either. But all he'd really needed to lift his spirits was to lay eyes on her again. While nearly an arc for her, from his perspective inside of Maste's Maze; just a few trials added travel time. But it was still too long away from her. Knowing she was likely putting herself in danger's way didn't help things any.

Finally as the last note of the music faded away, she looked up and they locked gazes. Her eyes spoke volumes. He'd learned over the arcs to read them well; the shifting colors were a language all on their own. There wasn't much she could say that her gaze didn't say for her. Arlo himself was forever surrounded by a faint but persistent multi-colored aura. An traveling aurora, all of his own and thanks to U'frek's blessing. But it paled in comparison to Vega's eyes.

He smiled and took her hand, helping her down from the stage and drawing her closer. So close that their noses nearly touched. And then when she finally spoke, the smile stretched into a grin. "I thought for a trill there you were going to punch me." She'd done it before, after all. And "Yes," it was him, he was finally back. "I was told I might find you here. Not even the thought of being asked to dance in public could have kept me away. Bert's just going to have to make way, I'm afraid."

He stepped back a little to take her all in, head to toe before speaking again. "You're a marvel to behold." That dress. Vega never had been the bashful type and if he'd been asked, he'd have said that the color suited her, inside and out. "You're alright?"
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Thu Nov 12, 2020 7:29 pm

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The Mummer's Ball: Madame Leona's Pageant
When Vega responded to Betsy's abuse of Yeva, she screwed up her face really tight, and huffed. The girls around her giggled, but they didn't do so at Betsy's expense. They appeared far more amused at the way Vega spoke than at any particular thing she said. "Gob? What's a gob?"

"Anyway, we won't need a mop, when the skirt of that... interesting dress you're wearing will do to mop up the excess. Good evening, Miss Vega." So saying, Betsy excused herself to the dance floor, where she'd be coordinating the evenings events, and more or less out of everyone's hair.

The portion of the crowd that rumbled at the mention of redheads visibly quieted as Vega chastised them. They didn't want any trouble, apparently! Especially when Varlum backed her up moments later, threatening them quite openly. Their faces paled at that, and they went about trying to make themselves as small as possible, examining the wall panels and not disturbing anyone else for the rest of the evening.

As Vega's song began with Killi's instruction, everyone would notice that they had suddenly reached a level of competence with dance. There would be no stepping on of toes for the rest of the evening, and everyone would find they were perfectly adequate dancers, especially at the moves that Killi showed them.

The beautiful music continued apace, as the rest of the party-goers got to mingling.

And as Yeva tried dealing with her upset at the words of Betsy, and then following along with the dancing lessons of Killi, Doran had words with Vega, and they hashed out their Emean escapades and shared experiences with Xiur. When they began to talk of Xiur, and Vega responded with what she had learned from Xiur himself, Richard's head picked up at the mention, and he began coaxing his companion closer to the pair as they too began taking advantage of the dancing lessons Killi was giving.

When their exchange ended, and Doran began getting closer to Vega as her playing of the fiddle commenced, Richard excused himself from the company of Celise. He stood a few feet from Doran, and without looking at him listened to what he said. As he did so, he paid rapt attention to Vega's playing, and smiled giving her some silent applause. Celise also walked up toward the stage that Vega performed on, and rested a hand on Richard's shoulder as they both enjoyed the music together.

A fair number of people continued to take advantage of the impromptu dancing lessons from Killi, including Seira and her sister.

A good bit of conversation occurred within the grouping of Doran, Yeva, and Balthazar, which went on for a good few moments about various subjects of interest to all of them.

When Elisabeth approached Elmo, he didn't seem to notice that she'd spoken his name at first. Then, he turned one way, then the other, "Someone call me?" He asked, After lifting his head for even a moment, then he noticed Elisa. "Oh... You're that girl from the dress store... Uhh... Nice dress."

His mouth dropped and then shut, and then dropped again. He seemed to be a bit tongue tied. Then he shook off the discomfort, and commiserated with her as he did during their trip to the store, "Argh, I'm glad we're not REALLY expected to dance for this. How about we just eat and wait for all of this to end? Help me hide from Tasha... She'll probably be busy looking for someone anyways..."

That said, Elmo began to lead Elisabeth, whether she followed, to the appetizer table, with the punch. He took a plate, and began piling on food. He almost sampled the first treat on his plate, before he remembered what manners he had, and looked at Elisa. "Some food? Not sure what these bits are called..." He referred to some scallops wrapped in bacon, stuck with a small splinter.

A few eyebrows rose at the late arrival and announcement of 'Eroim, of the Andresmarie'. Yet he was permitted to enter all the same.

When he approached to make an introduction to Leona herself, she would smile graciously on him, "It's a pleasure, Eroim. I'm so pleased that you made it." Her eyes did drift toward the trinket he wore on his neck, and her eyes flashed with a golden glint, although it may have just been the way the light played on their shine.

"Perhaps you'll grant me the pleasure of a dance, Eroim?" Leona said, grinning at the man, "That is, if you haven't got your eyes set on anyone else?" She shrugged lightly, not the least bit disappointed if he answered in the negative.

When Gennadiya arrived through the ballroom, and approached Lesley, who looked distracted as if he was looking for someone specific. When she spoke to him, he smiled in return to her, "Yes, and you look lovely now in your ballroom dress! I did think white was definitely your color..."

Lesley's eyes wandered for a moment, before finding Gennadiya's gaze again. "If you'd allow me, I'd appreciate a dance with you when that all starts, my lady Gennadiya?"

When Eroim began speaking with Gennadiya, Leona did not excuse herself nor move away, but coalesced with this grouping of Lesley, Gennadiya, and Eroim, happy to be in their company as much as any of the others at the Ball.

Leona would smile at Gennadiya, "Perhaps we can trade partners midway through the dance?"

Lesley seemed shy at this suggestion, yet intrigued enough by Leona to allow the humoring of it. It would've been rude to refuse the hostess of the evening, afterall. "I'm sure we'll have a chance to, later on Madam."

Richard and Celise looked a bit at a loss, when the grouping of Doran and Vega parted way for the reunion of the wedded couple of Arlo and Vega. Yet they adjusted well enough as Celise excused herself from Richard's arm, allowing him to hover near Doran's grouping, while Celise hovered at the edge of hearing, allowing the wedded couple some time to their selves before she would introduce herself.

After everyone had an adequate opportunity to greet each other, the band began to play and the first round of dancing would commence in earnest.
 ! Message from: Pig Boy

Alright, this is the dancing round. You can continue to talk to each other, but you're also encouraged to dance if you want! You have ten days before my next post. In that time, you can have up to five posts between each of you. Thanks!
[/style2]
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Hart
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Thu Nov 12, 2020 11:17 pm

Hart grinned back at Madame Leona when she asked him to dance. He found her choice of words quite specific. It's a pleasure, Eroim. I'm so pleased that you made it. Grant me the pleasure of a dance, Eroim?

"The Pleasure's all mine," he said, curious whether she would recognize the quip.

Noticing that she seemed happy, for the moment, to accompany him, he offered her his arm. Not long after, he met Gennadiya Lyosha, who introduced herself as such. The man accompanying her didn't provide an introduction, though Hart guessed it might be because he seemed a bit distracted.

Hart introduced himself to the both of them, glad to make their acquaintance. "Lovely to meet you, Gennadiya. My name is Eroim," he said, and smiled. "Or Hart, as I prefer. Eroim is more of a title, to me. One might say it's something of a mask." He cut his eyes to Madame Leona briefly, who was, of course, wearing a lion mask. Like her choice of words earlier, he found her choice of mask quite specific. Then he turned to the gentleman accompanying Gennadiya. "Might I ask your name, as well?" he inquired of him.

If Madame Leona was happy for him to do it, he would introduce her to the small party. And if having received a response from the gentleman, Lesley, Hart would nod a greeting.

Introductions made, he turned back to Gennadiya.

She had said she believed they hadn't met, and Hart considered her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Admittedly," he said, and his voice was thoughtful as well, "While I believe you're right..." He would have remembered her had he spoken to her before. "...there's something familiar about you. Perhaps we've attended an event like this before?"

But no, he hadn't been attending many such events, of late. He had noted that earlier. Those events he had attended were, for the most part, years back in Rynmere.

"Hmm," he murmured, as if in remembrance. Gennadiya Lyosha. Then he shrugged, and smiled. "Perhaps it was in a dream." He was a dreamwalker, after all.

"Your dress is lovely, by the way," he told her. The dress in question was pure white, fitted at the top but flowing around the legs. It seemed to be made of many fine layers of some sort of sheer material he didn't recognize. "Its elegance suits you."

Madame Leona spoke to Gennadiya, to mention trading dance partners halfway through. Hart smiled at the both of them. Lesley seemed less certain, perhaps having another dance partner in mind, but seemed to want to humor the Madame. "I'd be glad to dance with you, Gennadiya, if you would like," Hart offered.

"Though," he added after a moment, "I must admit I am not the most accomplished dancer."

This was directed to both of the women. To Gennadiya, because he had, like Lesley, offered to dance. And to Madame Leona because it was her event and she, of course, seemed as if she could only be an accomplished dancer.

Despite his admittance Hart smiled to himself, remembering the look on Edasha's face, a year or so back, when he had tried a pirouette. He was, at times, a bit of a disaster.

But he rather didn't think he could possibly ruin the evening, with just a dance.
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Re: The Mummer's Ball

Sat Nov 14, 2020 5:07 am






























Elisa gave Elm a smile as he put the puzzle pieces together. “Yes, the dress shop! Seems as though Faith was able to find something for you as well. You look very nice. And thank you.“ She knew that the Ball was not where Elm wanted to be – he probably wanted to be anywhere BUT the Ball in truth – but he seemed to be fairing well under the circumstances.

It didn’t take long for him to decide that the appetizer table was the place to be. Following his lead, she gracefully walked along with him but shook her head as he offered her some food. “Oh, none for me, thank you. Don’t want to spoil my appetite for dinner. They look delicious though, whatever they are. I was surprised that Tasha wasn’t with you. Is she looking for someone in particular?” His words hadn’t made that point clear and Elisa was interested in the answer. The pair had intrigued her at Faith’s shop, so she was glad to get another chance to find out more about them.

While watching Elm put some bits on his plate, her eyes gazed around the room and settled on a small group near the punch bowl. There was Yeva! To her surprise, Doran and Balthazar were standing with her, talking. So much the better. It had occurred to her that Elm might feel overwhelmed if he had to converse with her one-on-one, but maybe a small group would make him feel more comfortable?

Stepping to the side just a tad to get a better line of sight, Elisa began the subtle process of trying to get Yeva’s attention. The distance wasn’t far but calling out to her wasn’t an option. It was probably frowned upon at an event like this, she surmised. She waited until Yeva’s eyes drew her direction and gave her a quick wave. It was exceedingly hard to toe the line between acting the part and looking like an idiot, but she did what she could. Trying to indicate with a small wave her direction to bring Doran and Balthazar with her, she turned back to Elm and started covering her tracks, just in case Elm looked up and noticed her antics. “Oh! I see a friend of mine, Yeva. Maybe I can get her and the people with her to come stand with us and help hide you from Tasha. Why would you want to hide from her, anyway? She seems lovely.”

She hadn’t forgotten the main reason for attending the event. It was still there – loitering around in the back of her mind. The option to stand at the edge of the room had vanished with so many familiar faces so she needed to get creative. The surprise of three new acquaintances being in the same group together still startled her – especially since she didn’t believe any of them to be from Rharne - but it made things that much easier as she had wanted to catch up with all three nonetheless. Well, two - she had already talked to Doran but would never turn down the opportunity for further conversation. Yeva was a kindred soul, from what she could tell. They enjoyed solving puzzles together. Balthazar was…something of an enigma that intrigued her. The three appealed to different facets of Elisabeth’s personality…and hopefully, they weren’t too busy drinking punch to come over and assist.



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