| Seaside Ball |
| Summary: | A Masked ball held in d'Juliano Palace. |
| Date: | May 21st, 2018 |
| Related: | Arcadian Festival |
| NPCs: | Probably quite a few. |
| Players: |
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| d'Julianoi Palace - Back Terrace |
| A Marble Terrce overlooking the sea. |
| Mai 1874 |
The Seaside Ball, not in the d'Juliano ballroom, but rather, on it;s just as large back terrace. A cliffside terrace surrounded by orchards and gardens, with a marble flooring that goes from the stone steps that come out the back of the palace, to the stone and carved wall that overlooks the ocean, and gives a perfect view of the setting sun. Already torches and lamps are lit to give the ambiance of a intimate and romantic setting, as a quartet of bards play on a side stage.
Countess Merecedes aria Juli d'Juliano looks out over the water, a long black dress worn that flaires out at her hips, and hugs her waste and bust generously. Her hair done up in a stylish bun with countless combs and a tiara, as well as a black mask that covers the top of her face, white and silver feathers adoring the mask as she gives a soft smile. Her hands are adorned with black silk evening gloves and even though the dress should have a wider bottom, she doesnt wear a skirt cage, causing the dress to swish as she moves, or glides, as most aequoran ladies give the illusion.
A man has arrived who is athletically fit and slim at nearly six foot in height. He is dressed in a white velvet frock coat with spidery silver threadwork around the edges and cuffs. A grey bloused shirt is matched with a white silk cravot set with a large black pearl of excellant quality. Snug fitting charcoal grey breeches are tucked into tall black leather boots. Silver buttons and buckles have black kraken motifs. A wide white silk belt sash is tied around his waiste to fall to one side with the polished hilt of a cutlass to peek out below.
Elegant he looks in his crisply fine tailored array until one notices the lordly man's mask. Leather has been shaped and painted to look like the bone of a hulan skull with darkened eye sockets, nose, and grinning teeth. Glossy black hair is drawn back and tied with a thin grey silk ribbon.
This man surveys the terrace with erect poise as if all he surveyed were /his/ domain. A golden ring adorns a finger of his left hand - two writhing krakens bracing a large bloody red ruby carved into the likeness of a human skull. A deep red glass of wine is plucked from a tray and he begins to slowly walk the terrace observing the costumes of others.
A woman in bright yellows and fiery reds come in, her identity hidden as she looks nothing like herself when she is not at a masked ball. Her hair is done up in crimson curls that are swept up and away from her face, pinned in place by two intricately carved hair pins, her dress off the shoulder while still being modest. The color of the gown starts off a pale yellow at the neckline and capped sleeves, terminating at a red at the skirt's hem, with various shades of yellow and orange in between. Whomever it is, she seems to be trying to emulate a sunset this evening.
Those who are in her company are dressed in a similar color scheme although not as fanciful as her.
The woman in black turns to see who has arived, first seeing the lord who has the skull motif, and then the lady in the sunset colors. She smiles and moves along the marble steps with a grace that could deffinatly be born in court, and takes a glass of red wine from a server. Continuing her walk, she stops to offer a light curtsie to the woman in the sunset outfit, her own outfit matching the royal al'Ramar's colors or black and silver.
He never could get used to balls, they always makes him want to run off into the woods. And that's the regular ones, these masks doesn't help either. He wears a white mask over his face, and dressed in black, the mask making him look far more pale. He's been unable to hide his hair of a light color, something that might be able to identify him as he looks around rather carefully. Every now and then glancing back to the exit.
A few men and women arrive together all dressed in black with glittering black masks. They are armed with blades that are tied for the moment with peace knots. Their leather garments are well cut but the two women do not wear gowns and all four of them wear breeches and boots. They break up into two pairs to join the mingling though mostly they will watch from the fringes.
A man several inches shorter than six feet enters the ball somewhat late, masked and costumed, though it is apparent that he's got the lean, muscular appearance of somebody accustomed to hard training. This man wears a gleaming silver mask in the shape of a face that is known throughout the lands as Saint Michaelis; its nose, mouth, chin and cheeks are all well defined. He's got blue eyes under the mask but beyond that, nothing is visible of him. On his head is a high polished brass helmet inlaid with gold, intricate carvings, and a smaller, projecting image of another, less detailed face.
Over the man's body is a mockup of Saint Michaelis's famed armour, though instead of being in gleaming metal it is made with highly polished black leather, a sculpted muscular design with plenty of engraved decorative flourishes. The armour covers his shoulders and torso, while a fringed leathered skirt falls over the tops of his legs. He wears grey trousers which are tucked into a pair of calf high black boots, shined to a mirror polish. A gold and silver coloured hooded cape with Saint Michaelis's image is worn over his back. Beyond a sword sheathed at his waist, he's got a silver staff in hand. It's roughly a foot long, decorated with engravings of various scenes showing Saint Michaelis in all of his many battles, with the victorious finale at the top of the staff.
For the moment, Saint Michaelis's body double takes stock of the situation, scanning the ball critically.
Lady of the Sunset dips her head towards Mercy, offering the lady a smile as well. She doesn't seem inclined to converse just yet, however. No, she is happy to drift, looking here and there as she plays a game commonly played at masquerades. Trying to figure out if she knows anyone, the brightly-colored vision drifts past several knots of people, offering those she wanders by nods and perhaps a brief wave here and there, but she is not staying put.
The guessing game is indeed fun, and is even more fun when you arent acting like yourself. The woman in black moves along the floor, giveing a nod to those in attendance, though she also says nothing. Some of the more uptight people are simply nodded to, but she doesnt have time for them, they can brood and sulk for all she cares, she prefers people who are more than willing to take the stage with her, as a figure of speech, ending up back at the waist high wall and looking out over the sea.
Lord of Skulls has come to a stop at the egde of the terrace to overlook the grounds below. Carefully he tastes the wine with out having to remove his mask. Dark eyes come around to studying all those who have arrived thus far and linger upon Saint Michaelis longest before moving onwards.
Music plays softly though no one danes yet. Drinks are being offered and all that is lacking is a floating chandelier - surely that is a buffet table with a certer piece crowned with strawberries.
Saint Michaelis's features are, of course, obscured. As is his expression. He does catch the Lord of Skulls' glance though, nodding at him and raising his staff. Moving to first grab a glass of wine, he then makes his way over to join the man. "The Lord of Skulls, hmm? Rather downcast and morbid, wouldn't you say?" There is a hint of amusement in the voice.
One of the women dressed entirely in black stops by one of the buffet tables and collects herself several lovely strawberries. She bites into one and it makes her lips especially red stained. To her male comparion she turns to feed a strawberry, long grey braids looped over her shoulders. "I hope you have an appetite tonight my dear. It is apt to be an interesting night."
Glancing back towards the entrance again, the darkly clad one with the pale mask and hair lets out a long breath. "Get it together…" he mutters to himself. "What would…" Trailing off, he walks through the area, steps rather heavy, it would seem. They take him over in the direction of where he can look out at the sea.
The woman in all black with the feathered mask sidesteps just abit to be standing next to the pale masked man. "Milord, does the night find you well?" She asks softly as she takes a sip of the deep red and rich wine. "One would be content to just look out at the sea, on an eve such as this the sunset would be very charming one would think."
The Lord of Skulls smiles at Saint Michaelis. His baritone is warm enough, "Not at all. One rarely feels more alive, and grateful to be living with blood coursing through your heart, than when brushed by death. It gives life meaning, challenge against which to pit ourselves, making our living moments all the brighter."
The whisper of skirts announces the Lady of Sunset's presence as she nears the skull masked man and the one he is speaking with. Some of what's said is heard and she can't help but to smile inwardly, perhaps recognizing his voice. "Having danced with death before," she intones, "I can't say I agree. But perhaps you could convince me that I am wrong. Make me see your point of view?" The saintly figure is looked at and she now smiles. "And a saint walks amongst us. Us mere mortals are unworthy to be in your presence."
"Perhaps it depends on the dance, my lady." Saint Michaelis quips, performing a rather complicated manoeuvre designed to get wine into the mouth hole of his mask without spilling it. He succeeds. Evidently this is not his first time. "A slow, leisurely dance would certainly not suggest exhiliration. But a fast one with many steps and moves? I see what Skull here is saying."
There's a pause as the pale masked man hears the words, looking at the woman with the feathered mask as if trying to look through the mask. "It is a rather beautiful sight, the sea," he replies, a bit thoughtfully. There's a few brief moments as he looks out to the water again, before he shrugs briefly, offering a bit of a smile from under the mask. "It seems to be a lovely night as well. I must admit that after the events right before, and during the War, masks make me a little nervous. But since this event requires them, they should be warn. Besides, I think I would be even more nervous if I was the only one without a mask," he replies, with a smile.
Lord of Skulls turns slightly at the arrival of a lady in sunset shades. "You were then not grateful to be alive after your dance with death? Yes, I will surely have to remedy that at once." His wine glass is set aside on the terrace's stone railing. A hand us offered forth to the lady, "Allow me this dance and we shall see if I can quicken your pulse and make you feel alive as the fiery sun ere she departs to give way to night's embrace."
Lady of Night smiles and looks over the man. "Why not have a dance with me Milord? There is nothing to be nervious about with me." She says as she offers a hand to the masked lord with a warm smile.
"I never said that I am not grateful to be alive…" Shaking her head, the red curls sway against her back, her smile widening. "We can talk about it during our dance." Offering the skull-man a hand, she looks at Michaelis, her head bowing slightly. "Please excuse us. I would love to speak more, but it seems like Death calls me to the dance floor. Perhaps we can continue our conversation once it's concluded, sir?"
Saint Michaelis leans back against the table and quaffs more wine. His voice still sounds amused. "Shall you return from your brush with death? I suppose we never know until it happens." He dips his head and nods.
"A dance sounds like a wonderful idea, my lady," the pale masked man replies with a smile and a nod, taking the offered hand. "Dancing is one of the things I like with the balls, even though it's mostly being done together with someone who did not make the journey here."
Lady of Night smiles and leads the pale masked man to the dance floor, stepping in to start their dance, slowly at first, wanting to guage how much or little the man will allow in contact, since she knows that people from around the west are attending, and galenthians tend to be much more foeqrd wit htheir dances.
"Indeed you /should/ tell me of this event … if it will not overly distress you to do so, my lady." The Lord of Skulls draws the Lady of Sunsets out into the heart of the wide d'Juliano terrace. With back straight he stops and turns to bow both crisply and fluidly to his parter without letting go of her slim dusky fingers. His own are duskier still with much sun exposure.
He waits for her courtsey and as the music transitions into a new piece, the Lord of Skulls begins the dance. One which he seems to know fairly well. His movements are smooth with a measure of grace, almost cat-like with ease.
"Tell me of your troubles and your triumphs, dear lady. I am yours to listen." Even so, dark eyes take note of the Lady of night and her companion also taking the floor.
A woman cones up and trails her fingers along the back of Saint Michaelus's broad shoulders. She herself is lean and dressed in plain black with pants and boots with a peace knitted cutlass. Long silvery grey braids adorn her shoulders, pinned in loops, though she does not seem to be old. "Tell me if you know how to dance, young Saintly buck."
Pouring himself a new glass, Saint Michaelis strides over to the wall surrounding the d'Juliano terrace and calmly watches the sea below. Far from being anxious at anything going on here, he appears serene. Of course, one can't see his face. He doesn't quite jump when the woman in black touches his back, but he is certainly surprised. "I've danced to the music of love and of war, and am adept at both. Of course. What provenance do you go by, my lady?"
Allowing herself to be led to the dance floor, the fiery woman allows her dance partner to ease them into the proper posture for the music, her gown swishing about their feet and ankles once they begin. Murmuring lowly to him, she looks into his eyes, her expression soft. Fond, maybe. As they dance she has eyes for no one else, her attention on him solely.
"Oh, you can call me Scallywag tonight. I'm hired help to keep an eye out should trouble rear it's head for my Captain." Grey Braids wears a glittery black half mask that does nothing to conceal her expressive mouth.
As he's led to the dance floor, the pale masked man smiles, offering a brief bow to the Lady of Night. As the dance begins, it is probably clear that the style of dancing he's used to is the Aequorian style. He's a relatively good dancer, or at least someone who's practiced a bit. As the dance goes on, he seems to relax a bit more.
Lady of Night smiles and dances more, twirling into the graps of the pale masked man and leaning in to whisper somthing to him before she twirls abit away to resume their very stately elegant dance.
Lord of Skulls is familiar with Aequorian dances and has had some practice. Not perhaps the ultra refined precision of a life time of instruction and practice, but certainly of an enthusiast. He stays peripherally aware of those moving around them, posessing and instinct for evading mishap with others in the complex pattern.
A nod for his partner, his baratone low, "I know of your story, it is true, my lady. I would not intend you grief in the retelling here. I accept your gratious offer and shall hold you to it, another time."
Whatever else is said low between them, the Lord of Skulls does his best to please the Lady od Sunsets in their brief engagement ere the dance winds down. When it does, he bows low over her hand and brushes the back of her fingers with his lips - not /quite/ a kiss. That would not due in his current guise. "I thank you for sharing this dance with me, Lovely Twilight."
"Scallywag, eh? I see. I suppose you're not much of a lady then?" A harsh laugh emits from his mouth, but he nods at her anyways and seeks to take her hand. "Shall we, Scallywag? I've heard that aboard ships. What does it mean?"
There's a brief look to his dancing companion as the pale masked man hears what's whispered to him, causing him to let out a brief chuckle after a few moments. "Thank you, my lady. Is it that obvious?" He watches her as the dance continues.
Lady of Night chuckles as she twirls around him in a whirlwind sort of way, her sweet smelling perfume easily noted. "Oh I could probably pick out everyone here, comes with knowing who's who." She says with a slight chuckle. "Though, I'm not going to make that knwoeldge public."
There is a deep curtsey from the Lady of Sunset when the song reaches its end, her balance maintained by the gentle hold the Lord of Skulls has on her hand. "Thank you for being understanding." Straightening, she glances around, the smile she has had up until now faltering. "I probably should make my polite exit before anyone realizes who I am and request a dance. I have need to return home." There's a kiss given to the gentleman's cheek. "Please pass on a hello to the Admiral if you see her." She slips away from her partner, slowing only for a moment to address the saint. "Please forgive my inability to stay, otherwise I would ask for a dance. Perhaps you'll come see me soon and we can visit over tea." She leaves, then, hidden by her people as they leave.
"The last time I was at a ball with folk such as yours, it ended up in a bloodbath." Saint Michaelis says, voice flat. But he dances, and dances well, using his athleticism far more than any especial knowledge gleamed from the study of dances. Yes, he knows the moves, but it's his strength and finesse that carry him. His baton has been fixed to his belt in two places, impeding it from swinging. "And who is your Captain, if I may, that he has his crew out dancing with masks?"
"Oh! I'm no lady, my lord, no!" She has a very nice smile despite the statement. "A scallywag is a badly behaved person in amusing ways. Perhaps I can amuse you while I amuse myself." Gray Braids gives Saint Michaelis a wink and all but drags him out onto the dance floor if the terrace. She us a bold one, this Scallywag! (repose)
Gray Braids smiles as she takes up the dance with Saint Michaelis, "My Captain is Lord of Skulls tonight. Only a few of us are here. It is always wise to keep an eye on things, don't you think?" She and the other three do seem to be watchful, mostly staying near to the entrances and exits or near to their Captain.
"I appreciate that," The pale-masked one replies, offering another smile. "You dance well, my lady."
Lord of Skulls has watched the Lady of Sunsets depart. Now his gaze roams over the others and those dancing, lingering this time upon the Lady of Night as she enjoys the company of her companion. For himself, the Lord of Skulls returns to claim a fresh glass of dark red wine and observe others.
Lady of Night smiles as the song ends and she steps in to look into the eyes of the plae masked lord. "I only dance well because my partner dances well." She says with a smile at him. "But that dance left me flushed." She says with a soft fan of her face wit hher silk covered hand. As she departs the dance floor and taking another glass of wine, she stops to finaly get a gaze at the setting sun, a soft smile on her face as she pulls a white and red flower from her hair, somthing found in the central region of aequor, she then tosses the flower over the balcony, synbolism one would expect.
"It is especially at events such as this. The masks make some people bolder than they might normally be. And with good reason. It has been known for all kinds of malfeasant activities to occur." Saint Michaelis agrees, laughing. "But I think this one shall be tame enough."
"Indeed, my lord. I am charged to behave myself tonight and should not risk stealing more than one dance. You seemed worth the stealing if only for a few minutes of the night." Scallywag gives a sigh. She may not know the dance well and be a little too quick in her movements, but she smiles happily. At least she'scnot wearing a many lauered pink dress that looks like a cake.
Captain tight pants over there hasn't gotten himself into any duels yet either, but there is time yet.
As the dance winds down, Saint Michaelis backs away two steps and bows his head. "Tonight, you are a lady, my dear. Busy as you may be, take the time to enjoy it as well. Thank you for the dance."
As the dance finishes, the pale-masked one nods a little. "Enjoy the rest of the evening, my lady," he offers, before he moves off to get hold of something to drink as well, turning to watch the crowd in the room a bit thoughtfully, sipping the drink slowly.
Scallywag smiles warmly and though she wears no gown tonight, she attemps a courtsey anyway. "Thank you, my lord. You have made my night." Time to get back to holding that wall up over there!