Subject: "Found a paper as well?"
Author:
Posted on: 2017-07-25 04:12:35 UTC
He appeared next to Ghast, curious. "I found one as well. Less fancy because it just says witch."
Subject: "Found a paper as well?"
Author:
Posted on: 2017-07-25 04:12:35 UTC
He appeared next to Ghast, curious. "I found one as well. Less fancy because it just says witch."
The Hostess had forgotten how much she hated that clown. He had just opened her Doom trap - without even looking at the riddle, mind - and then displaced it. Right where she was. Good thing she had poison immunity of her own.
Focusing, the Hostess painstakingly finished reforming her body an stepped through the Void door on the left staircase.
((Boom! I'm back, darlings!))
He spun around quickly, flames dancing around the edge of his cane, ready to lash out...
Then he saw who it was. "Oh, it's you. Gotta say, you look rather good for a corpse."
"Oh, you do know how to make a girl blush. But if you look over there--" she gestured to where her decaying corpse still lay. "--you'll see that I'm not a corpse at all."
"I'm still trying to figure that out, actually. Clone? Illusion? Long lost evil twin who fell victim to a tragic curse that gave her a strange attraction to spears? Nah, that's too logical." He crossed his arms, glancing back at the clown for emphasis. "Still sad we didn't get candy."
"Does this help?" she teased.
Getting a little more serious, the Hostess said, "The body is in fact mine. That particular one is a little on the older side - hence the decay."
"Well, if you're gonna have a pinata, might as well have candy." He was curious, though, about how she managed to do a body swap like that. "I have to admit, I was not expecting to see you again this soon. Still, better than the crazy clown. I was assuming you wanted us to solve the mystery of your death, but since you're still alive...You have some other kind of fun planned for us? An invasion of imps prototyped with cheese, perhaps?"
"Resurrection would have taken longer if not for that--" she said something in a grating language that was obviously highly uncomplimentary. "--deciding to crash another party of mine. I knew he was coming, but I forgot how irritating he can be."
She blinked. "By the way, have my secret codes been getting through alright?"
"Were they supposed to be burnt into our eyelids?" He glanced at the clown again. "As long as someone's having fun..."
"So it did work! Yay."
She looked over the Wolf's shoulder at Spanky and glowered. "Remind me why he pulled out a piano? And turned my balcony into a mirror?"
Wolf shook his head. "I'm not gonna go there. Not again."
"Again?" she echoed. "Now I'm curious about the first time."
"I am nowhere near drunk enough to tell that story. You'll just have to live with the suspense."
She tilted her head towards the Wolf. "But I'll let it stand. Everyone needs a few secrets - they make mysteries more exciting."
"Like the mystery of where you got these cards." He reached into his hammerspace and pulled out the witch card. "I am intereted/worried about using these. Should be fun."
"I'm glad you're interested, Wolf. But if you could give the Ghast their Rogue card back, that would be appreciated."
"He gave it to me, though..." After a moment, he relented. "Alright, I'll pass it back to him once he heads over here."
"Now, then - what have I missed in my absence?"
He tapped the cane on the floor. "Well, you got killed, we formed a team for exploring, opened a door, and murder fog appeared. We broke it and closed the door again, then your mesages started showing up. And finally the clown showed up." He crossed his arms. "Still not sure I get what his deal is."
amusement. They kept a safe distance from the proceedings, but still, it was rather funny to see their Hostess so worked up.
They can, however, determine that there is not nearly enough stuff on it for the dead Hostess to have put up much of a struggle. So there's another point in the "she was already dead" category.
"Someone's rearranging the parts in the other room, or worse," the Musician said. "I don't like what that could mean..."
"And, really," she continued. "If you can't magically wave a problem away, keeping yourself from being a victim of it is a good move. That could have been a lot worse, if more of us had been caught by it."
"Thanks." Sapphire smiled at The Musician, "I guess that's a good way of looking at it." They looked up at the banister where the Ghast was. "I'll head up there and join the Ghast now, if you don't mind. Seems like a good idea." They walked up the stairs and joined the Garnet Ghast at the railing.
The Musician followed, still not entirely over the feeling of being watched. I mean, it stood to reason that if Calliope wasn't dead that she was somewhere, and if she was somewhere, she'd probably be keeping an eye on the party...
"It looks like whatever corpse she used was already dead," they said. "Other than that, though, I can't find anything else. I think we really will have to go exploring."
"Do you guys reckon there's another door we could check out on the right-hand staircase?"
"We can at least check it out." They waved to everyone else to follow, then started towards the second staircase.
It has a C worked into its back. Do you pick it up?
They straighten and look at the White Wolf. "Hey, would you mind grabbing this one?" they call.
He shrugged and walked over, scooping up the card.
Flipping it over, though, you see it has text spelling out Rogue.
He crossed his arms. "Rogue and Witch. Too many classes, not enough aspects. Oops."
They started walking towards the other balcony. "If necessary, we can see what we can do with them, but I'd rather keep them in reserve so that we don't start cursing having a Witch of Doom instead of a Rogue of Doom at some important moment."
He shrugged and tossed the card into his hammerspace. "So, Should we try another door? I'll knock this time."
They paused. "Okay, so, maybe not a good idea, but the best idea we have, is what I mean."
"My knocking is better than dealing with what happened last time again." He blinked. "Wait. Wait. Wait." He closed his eyes. "Am I the only one seeing words of blue fire when my eyes are closed?"
He didn't like the thought of seeing a magic code inside his eyelids. He kept watch around the group while the Ghast and Wolf had their eyes closed.
...some of the more aware members may notice a door on the back wall. The door is green, but that's all you can make out at this distance.
He stares at it for a moment. He turns to look at the rest of the group. He looks back at the door.
He sighs.
"Well, submitted for your consideration, it's another freaking door, you guys. Do we dare mess with it?"
"If it means I get to knock this time, sure." He walked over to the door to knock. "Any objections?"
...you see another code. Of course.
Zvok wew sogj dlpriuy dlc Jfsvx Kjdgg Uysp?
"Picking fights at a party?" The Musician asked. "Doesn't sound like the best of ideas."
Just as Rod reached the top of the banister with the rest of his group, he stopped as a twisting feeling of foreboding shot up and down his spine. He whipped around and glanced over every corner of the room he could see, checking for anything that seemed . . . changed. The chill settled around his heart.
Something was wrong. Something dangerous. Room for one more, honey. Rod shook the thought away. That was just some line he remembered from an old TV show . . . wasn't it?
She also snickered at the idea that people weren't pairing up. They were so pairing up and she would be disappointed otherwise.
Besiiiiides, it's not like this was murder or anything. Just a little impalement. And a hanging.
She noticed Rod going alone, and hoped he in turn noticed the two staircases curving along the sides of the room.
Might as well do it like reading a book: Rod started up the left staircase.
Going alone was an awful, awful idea. Granted, he was in a room full of people - but that hadn't stopped her little death scene, now, had it?
But regardless, as Rod advanced up the staircase, he noticed a small door set into the wall. It had neither knob or keyhole.
He glanced up again towards the balcony. Really, though, what were the odds of finding a clue in plain sight up there? A door might reveal something previously hidden.
Except the door didn't appear openable, at least not from this side. Rod gave it a push right in the center.
However, this close, you notice words on the door, barely distinguishable.
Wvs dkr ukc aruiq ps rfow lrh bvoh kh;
Hvv wel zvc secq ps rfow lrh krxx kh;
Hvv wel zvc eoibv as uyiq qch bxsu ps.
She paused beside Mister Turkey, looking over at Cal's body. "I totally called this," she said. "I knew someone would end up dead; just knew it. I didn't expect it to be Cal herself, though." For the third time, she sipped her cider by reflex and began coughing immediately.
'I didn't know you got invited.' He blinked, looked closer at the body. The mood of the party seemed somewhat dampened. He hoped flies wouldn't start appearing. 'I like your dress.'
She tugged at the skirt, smoothed out a few wrinkles. "Thanks. Decided against a waistcoat, I see?"
He took his eyes off the body and looked sidelong at the disguised figure he had definitely not immediately recognised on sight as Alleb. 'What is even that distinctive about me?!' he openly wondered, distraught both about the death of a good friend and also at his terrible talent in disguise.
'Begh, nice to see you anyway!' he said, grinning. And the grin instantly fell apart when he remembered the corpse that was in front of them. 'Er, considering the circumstances.' His grin was in a state of flux, forming and reforming, appearing and unappearing. It was having a hard time. Murder did that.
She looked at Cal. "She'll come back pretty soon, I'm guessing. I mean, she wouldn't kill someone--particularly not herself--off for good, you know?" She glanced around the room, then lowered her voice to a near-whisper. "It's only an RP, after all. She's fine." She hoped she was allowed to get that meta in this particular RP. After all, Cal could kill her off in the short term, and that might ruin her dress.
Furthermore, it might endanger her secret.
"I think two things. One, I'm getting that strange, crawly feeling you get when you've annoyed something way bigger than you, and I don't like it. Two, dang I need some coffee. Come on, let's find the refreshments table. Can't solve a mystery without fuel." With that, she turned and started back across the room, trying to watch in every direction at once.
"She knows I'm on a diet, doesn't she," she said, glaring at the ice cream and chocolate milk. "And she knows I'm gonna eat this anyway because goshdarn it, this is a party, I'm allowed to have ice cream." Angrily, she picked up a bowl and dug herself out several scoops, using unnecessary force. This done, she seized a spoon and plunged it into her bowl. "Delicious," she growled around the bite. "Rocky road with marshmallows, my favorite. Actually, no, Phish Food is my favorite, but whatever. Close enough. Feen, you want anything?" she demanded, turning to her friend.
"I'm getting the strangest feeling," she muttered, "that someone else just said something, but I can't hear them. Argh, that's uncomfortable. You feeling that, Feen?" She chuckled. "Feening that, I guess? Er, what's your RP name, anyway?" She blinked. "Did I ask that already?"
'It's not meant to be the animal, it's when you get three strikes. In bowling.' He gestured sadly around his head. 'Bowling theme. Get it?' He did not want his horrible choice of name to be the topic of conversation and nearly immediately steered it away: 'Wait, so what's your mystery hidey-name, then?'
"I wanted something sort of cool and every other thing I thought of sounded off. I'd never heard of a turkey in relation to bowling before." She ate another bite of ice cream, still glancing around her. "Want to head back to Calliope's body? I want to take another look at it."
Lee- The Crimson Woman had just suggested they abandon ice cream to go look at a corpse. He looked at her like she had said something mad (because she had said something mad.)
'Iiiif you want to?' Mister Turkey said, draining the rest of his hot chocolate, considering grabbing more for the journey.
'What do you normally do when a close friend mysteriously dies?'
"Sorry," she said, adopting a more somber and concerned expression almost instantly- realizing that laughter at what appeared to be a crime scene would probably be in bad taste. "It's just- how much do y'all want to be that the butler did it?"
Then they started giggling to themselves. Goodness, Cal. What on Earth do you have planned for us? And what the heck are you doing? they thought, and then quickly sobered up as they answered their own question, No doubt it will involve a good deal of death that is a lot more real than whatever just happened. They sighed and wondered why they ever agreed to coming to the party; this was clearly going to be one wild night.
Oh boy. This was bad. Really bad.
The birthday girl shouldn't die on her birthday. Sure, people should end off on a high note, but this was just wrong.
Overcoming his fear of dead bodies and excessive amounts of blood, he made his way over to where Calliope had fallen. Who in their right mind would put a spear right where the birthday girl would fall? That's some bad interior design, right there.
She looked around, a black butterfly mask on her face, neck hair standing on end and prickling as her long brown curly hair brushed against them. A white dress with black in the front and chest featured white gemstones, so small they looked like snowflakes in the black cloth. Black high heels completed the look. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh HELP was all that was running through her head in this moment, aside from the fact that their hostess was dead. What was this, a sick reenactment of CLUE?
"Very funny, Calliope," they said, before vanishing and reappearing on top of the balcony. Their sleeve rustled, then a sword slid out of it. With a quick slice, Calliope's body was falling. They vanished and reappeared beneath the falling corpse, holding their arms out to catch her.
Unlike the original scene, it did not dissolve. The mouth does open slightly, and... um. Somefin about this looks wrong somehow. A little more decayed than it ought to.
The Musician was not an expert in dead bodies, but she did know her way around a gawking crowd. She was in the front in short order, looking down at the Ghast and the now former-Hostess.
"That can't be natural," she said. "Doesn't it normally take a while for decay to set in?"
"Either this is a fake corpse she's had for a while, or else she killed herself a while ago to use this, or she's doing something weird, like warping time. I wouldn't put any of them past her."
"Is this... normal, for her parties? Should I be worried about ending up a corpse myself?"
"I don't know if this is normal. I haven't attended any of her parties before, but I'd be willing to bet that we'll all be corpses a couple times over by the end of this party."
"Sorry," the Musician said, "I'm... this is not what I expected from a birthday party, you know? I came dressed for dancing, not... repeat homicide."
"She really likes this kind of thing. Don't worry too much about it, though. We'll all walk out okay. That being said, it does hurt, so you probably want to avoid it, but we will be alright, if maybe psychologically scarred." They reached out to give the Musician a reassuring pat, realized they really didn't know her that well, and withdrew their hand.
"What should be done now? I'm... not entirely sure I'm comfortable without people watching my back."
"The White Wolf and I had been planning on seeing if we could gain a few extra allies, and start exploring this place. You could come along, if you wanted." They paused, then added, "Although, I do have a few questions for you, if you don't mind answering them."
"Although I will probably not be terribly helpful. I was expecting a party, not a murder!"
They looked around and made sure nobody could overhear. When they were sure, they leant in and whispered, "What did your message mean, and why was the cipher for your message Woman Who Watches?"
Sapphire hesitantly waved at The Musician and The Ghast. "The White Wolf said that you all were going to go exploring, and he invited me along. Is that okay, or am I interrupting something?"
... joined them. "Oh, hello!" they said, smiling beneath their mask. "Yes, I was just asking the Musician a few questions, but I think we might be ready to explore now, if you both are and the Wolf is?"
The Musician reached up and grabbed a chime, silencing the instruments in her hair. She patted a few key locations on her dress, as though doing inventory on hidden pockets, and nodded.
"I think that waiting here for events to happen to us is a bad plan. I'm in."
"Sorry to awkwardly pop in to the group, but uh. There's a door on the left stairwell with a scrambled code on it, aaaaand since I already know Garnet is good with codes, I . . . figured I would . . . point that out to you guys? If you feel like looking?"
"Sounds like a good start. Ghast, you're our best codebreaker. We'll watch your back, I guess?"
"I'd decipher it myself, but if you've already got it..."
She thought for a moment and then rang three bells and a chime, letting a gentle aura of fortune and protection wash over the group.
"You're right. We need to be honest about this so we know we can rely upon each other. I can use fire. And my teleporting, of course." The wolf tucked his violin back into the hammerspace he'd pulled it from, then pulled his cane back out.
"Thanks for telling us. I'm sure that that will come in handy. I... uh... really appreciate that you shared it, even though you didn't really want to."
Or at least, it doesn't if the thick black fog spilling out is any indication.
Where is it even coming from, anyways? It almost looks like it's just phasing through the door.
In barely-neat writing is the message:
Vfp hmsv io rxzoh uk dz, dmocdns.
"Not in your ability to stay dead or not kill us, at least."
He appeared next to Ghast, curious. "I found one as well. Less fancy because it just says witch."
"Really? You gave one to him?" they grumbled. Then, they sighed. "It's a Homestuck Class. I'm not sure what it means if she hasn't given you an Aspect, though."
Blaring up at you is a black skull and poison-green text:
Doom.
You suppose she might be sullen at you.
"You're just mad I solved the cipher, aren't you," they said before reaching down and picking up the card before putting it in a pocket. "See, she's not staying dead. Maybe we should go find whatever body she's inhabiting now? Or we could try and find out why this one is rotting."
"If I were to guess, I'd say she's watching us from somewhere." He glanced up at the balcony, wondering if it was worth it to look around.
"Yeah, she probably is. Even if she's not around here somewhere, she probably has cameras set up."
Cautiously, they step back from it, then pick up their sword and gently prod the body with its tip.
"Whelp. Only one thing to do at a time like this." He pulled out a violin and started to play a sad tune. Ok, sorta sad. It wasn't rapidly turning into a happy song. That's just your imagination.
Face-up this time, it has blackened text in loopy letters:
Witch
He wondered why it said what it did. Oh well. He considered it payment for a song well played. Or not.
He looked at the body. "Pity no candy came out," he muttered. "Anyone have a clue what happened?" He inspected the body more closely. "Huh. Definitely dead."
After slipping away from the Crimson Woman, the Hostess maneuvered expertly through the crowd, never touching a single person. To anyone bothering to keep an eye out, she seemed to be making a clockwise circuit around the room, not that you had any idea why she would be doing this… unless, of course, you received something.
On closer inspection, said suit was a very patchwork of silver and black. The man was also holding a red mask.
Once he'd come close to The Hostess, he said "Sorry I'm late. Making this suit takes a while."
"It's wonderful you could come," she said, surreptitiously slipping a small piece of paper into his hand as she released him. "The outfit is gorgeous! Which name shall I call you by this evening?"
"Or The Cryptographer, if you're feeling formal.", he said, leaning into the hug.
He then took the paper and slipped it into his pocket surreptitiously.
"And how are you this evening?"
"People seem to be enjoying themselves, and I've barely brought anything out! I look forward to seeing people's reactions to the proper challenges."
Knowing Cal, 'the proper challenges' will be deadly. Heck, the so-called 'easy mode' codes took over an hour to solve in some cases. You really wouldn't put it past her in any fashion.
"That being said, I'm afraid I don't know many of the people here. Could you introduce me to someone?".
Scanning the crowd, she picked out the Garnet Ghast. Perfect! Taking the Cryptographer by the arm, she dragged him over with at least some semblance of grace.
Their sleeves seemed to ruffle slightly, and they shifted back a few steps. "Uh, hello," they said, wondering what the Hostess was planning.
"I noticed you looking for companions - something about not wanting to walk out without an army, I believe? - and thought you might like a tick of assistance." Her smile was in no way comforting.
Their sleeves did not stop rustling. "I beg your pardon, and yours as well, whoever you are, but the fact that you're the one offering reinforcements isn't exactly inspiring trust."
"I'm Pads.". He stuck out a hand, looking for a handshake.
"Well, it's good to see someone here knows what they're dealing with. But if nobody bothers to step out of the first room, well, most of the party has gone to waste!" She tipped her head forward, her voice lowering in pitch as it did when she spoke seriously. "And I so hate for my efforts to be wasted, darling."
Well. If she wanted to deliver veiled threats, she was doing rather well.
"So," the Musician continued, "perhaps you are precisely on time for its beginning?"
The Musician smiled, amused, and offered her companion her hand.
"For tonight," she said, "I am known as the Musician- although I will also answer to Melody, if you desire a more conventional name."
"Nice to meet you, Musician. Um, just call me Rod, I guess. I . . . had a feeling you were into music, from your jewelry. I heard an orchestra playing as I approached the house. Tell me, in your opinion: are they good?"
"Now we're in trouble," the Musician said, laughing. "You've only just met me and you're asking me to judge musical ability?"
She listened for a moment, and then nodded.
"In my opinion, they are a skilled group, and experienced with playing together," she said. "Their director sounds inexperienced, they aren't controlling the emotions of the piece well. And I have... issues with whoever arranged it. That part belongs to the horn, not the cellos."
"But you say some of the instruments are off? Is there, like, a name for that in music, when the emotion is wrong?"
"I was complaining about the arrangement, which is which instruments are playing each part, but there aren't good words for how they're playing it."
"But enough shop talk," the Musician continued. "What of you? Your choice of costume is interesting."
"Pretty much just dress clothes I already owned. The watch and mask are models of props from a TV show, but I'm not giving it away!" He crossed his arms. "You have to guess on your own."
As she dodges the Musician, she drops a small piece of paper. She smiles at Time before continuing on her way.
"Oh dear, some litter!" He bends and scoops up the paper. "I'd best go find a trash can. Do enjoy your evening, miss!" He gives a little wave and moves awkwardly away.
They nodded at the White Wolf, then started walking off, assuming the Wolf would either stay there or follow them. They saw a man standing alone, and so approached him. "Pardon me, but if you're not busy, could I have a moment of your time?" they asked, managing to avoid showing surprise when they got a good look at the mask. It was... not something they had expected to see. Then again, everybody had different tastes in costumes.
"Oh, yes! Certainly!" He fumbled the paper in his hand a bit, as though deciding whether to put it away or leave it in the open. "I'm—Uh, call me Rod, by the way."
"A pleasure. I'm going by the Garnet Ghast tonight." They smiled, although admittedly, it was rather hard to tell through their ever-smiling mask. They noticed the piece of paper, and asked, "Ah, did our hostess give you one of those, too?"
"Ye—" he started to say, but stopped to glance around them. Leaning in closer, he whispered, "Yes, but I can't read it. It's in some kind of cipher. What did you get? Is yours in code, too?"
They made sure nobody was close by, except for the White Wolf, who was busy making his way through the crowd and sometimes exchanging a few words. They also leaned in, and whispered, "Yes, we got one, too. I was able to decipher it using my phone, and if I can see yours, I can see if I can decipher it for you. It might not be the same code, but it's worth a shot."
"Interesting conversation?" The White Wolf settled into the group easily, leaning slightly on the cane. "We cracked the code once at least."
"Very," they said, looking over their shoulder at the White Wolf. They put their phone away, wrote a quick translation on the scrap of paper with a pen they'd pulled out of a pocket, and showed it to the other two. "What do you make of this?"
"Oh my gosh, this . . . the Musician was the person I was talking to when I . . . when I took the . . ." He mask-palmed. "This wasn't even for me! Thank you for the help, guys, but I need to get this back to the Musician. She's probably got her own puzzle she's trying to solve, and I got in the way . . ."
((Sheepishness is true out of character, also.))
"Happy birthday!" she said, smiling. "I'd sing, but, er, not my forte. Ha, forte. Music joke." She coughed. "Ehrm. Anyway, I like your party. It's very, er, red and black and white, in a good way." She blinked behind her mask. Then, in a much smaller voice, she said, "I like your outfit."
"I like your outfit in turn. Quite red, and I like red." She arched an eyebrow. "By the way, my lady, you might work on Fellowship. I know I'm the talk-y person and all, but really - you're in no danger here!"
She stepped away to speak with further guests, leaving the Crimson Woman behind without a chance to answer.
She looked left and right, hoping someone would come talk to her so she could be saved the potential awkwardness. Parties are weird, she thought, kicking at her skirts.
At least her secret remained unknown.
"Quite the event," The Musician said, appearing from among the crowd with a pair of glasses of gently bubbling pear cider. She offered one to the Crimson Woman, and then raised her own in salute.
"Duuuuude, your hair is awesome!" she exclaimed, accepting the glass of cider. Then, realizing that this wasn't quite the level of decorum expected at such an event, she coughed and said in a more even tone, "I meant to say, yes, it is quite the event. Your hair looks beautiful." By reflex, she sipped from her glass and, having forgotten it was alcohol, proceeded to cough violently.
"Your dress is equally incredible," the Musician said. "I spent some time trying to come up with a similar design before giving up and opting for this instead."
"I may or may not have spent an embarrassing amount of time in Google Images," she said, glaring at her pear cider as if it had slighted her. "But thank you, er... What should I call you? I'm the Crimson Woman, though I think several people have already figured out who I actually am." She tugged at her gloves, wondering if it was okay to admit that at a masquerade ball.
"Or Melody, if you want a more conventional name."
The Musician smiled once more, sipping at her drink.
"I don't believe my identity has been discovered yet," she said. "But that's the fun of it all, isn't it? What good is a secret if you don't risk it on occasion? Although I must admit, I do not have a guess as to your identity."
She leaned forward a little, peering at the Musician. "I don't think I know who you are, either," she admitted. "Don't suppose you'll give me a hint?"
"Are you sure you're all right?" The Musician asked, taking the note. She glanced at the code, and then back at Time.
"How mysterious," she said. "I don't suppose you happen to know what this is about?"
"Wait, it this a murder mystery masquerade?" she interrupted. She glanced around the room, shifting from foot to foot. "Because considering the setting and the, er," she coughed, "authorial resources, shall we say, that we have at our disposal, utter realism isn't quite out of the question, if you know what I mean."
To the Musician, he said, "I don't know! It's addressed to you."
Rod turned to look at the Crimson Woman as she spoke. "Gee, I hope not . . . You have a frighteningly good point. But the Hostess wouldn't do something like that, would she?"
"Considering the fact that she could resurrect us just as easily--who knows?" Once again, she sipped her cider by reflex and, once again, began coughing violently. "I'm the Crimson Woman, by the way," she croaked after her coughing fit was over.
It has a C worked into the back. Do you pick it up?
She's already thinking about tabula recta and autokey ciphers and other such fun, the card is nothing more than a passing fancy- but she flips it up and over and glances at the underside as she puts her glass down on the table.
He was a tall and imposing figure, with a simple black and white tux adorning his lanky body, making him look elegant and poised as opposed to awkward. The only defining features were a bird mask with a long portruding beak covering the upper half of his face above his mouth and a long, almost comical, top hat. An obnoxious grin was clearly displayed as he walked, pausing once as if searching for something in particular before continuing further into the room.
An intervention was clearly called for here. That, of course, meant walking up to him and booping his nose. Or, well, his beak.
He tapped his cane on the ground, trying to get the woman's attention. "Good Evening!" He crossed his arms, tucking the cane under one elbow. "I must admit, I really like your dress. Very...noble."
She turned to the White Wolf, trying to look poised and elegant. "Thank y--" her voice caught, and she coughed. "Ahem. Thank you. I like your cane." She pointed at it. "It's, er, a dragon. That's... that's cool." She remained in that pose for a moment, slowly dying on the inside. Finally, she lowered her hand and seemed to shrink in on herself, looking down and muttering, "Well, bang goes this party."
"Is something the matter?" He leaned back a little, resting on his cane. "I hope I haven't offended you, madame."
If she could somehow manage to not mess up horribly, this conversation could be saved. "Oh, no, not at all," she assured him. "I'm just a touch nervous. I've never been to a party like this before--well, there was my friend's birthday party, but that was different. Mostly." Actually, that had been a masquerade too, now that she thought about it. "Why did you decide on a wolf?" she asked, desperate to stave off awkward silences.
"I've always liked wolves. And the mask was the most interesting one I could find." He grinned a little, glad she seemed a little less nervous. "What about you? You seem to have gone all out for the occasion."
"I don't get to dress up like this often," she admitted, smoothing the front of her gown. "Figured I'd make it count."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Haven't had an excuse to break out my cane in months. Shame too." He twirled it easily, taking care to make sure it wouldn't hit anyone.
The Crimson Woman had somehow gotten behind the White Wolf and was peering around her newfound cover, hands knotted into her dress. "Well, I should probably find the birthday girl and wish her a happy birthday," she said. She straightened, smoothing out her skirt.
"How did you...? Nevermind. That's probably a good idea. I'll head by in a bit. Catch you later?" The wolf made a slight bow, then turned away, ready to mingle elsewhere.
And then giggled. It quickly turned into a gigglesnort.
"Yep, that's definitely you," they said, their voice slipping back into a more feminine range. "Come on, though, let's be honest—it would be really hard to not figure out it was you."
Mister Turkey planted a single finger over his mouth and leant in, glancing left and right. 'Arright, arright, okay! But this is a costume-thing, don't go bloody howling my name and flaunting it around like it's a bloody flag, right?!' he hissed. 'Really hard not to figur... What - what is even that distinctive about me?!' he asked, boggling, bowling ball mask glinting in the light, clumsy figure bumping a nearby table and sending cups rattling, conspicuously short stature catching him in a realm of eye-level torsos and legs. He couldn't put his finger on it for the life of him.
The stranger smiled and held out a hand. "Call me Lights, uh—what should I call you if not your name?"
"Just lights, nothing special." She sighed and readjusted her grip on her cane. "Mind if we find somewhere to sit down?"
'I think the big idea about all this was us all moving about and dancing and such, but,' he nodded again. 'I don't want to move around and I'm fairly certain I can't dance. That works for me, that.' He smiled, and gazed around, looking for an area that fit the "somewhere to sit down" description.
'Erm,' he said to the shifting, quietly chatting wall of flowing fabrics and legs and intertwined arms that had appeared around him. He blinked. Lights was nowhere to be seen. He had just figured out who they were, too, had been prepared to leap upon them with that knowledge and shove it down their throat and laugh mirthfully, exclaiming their real name and flaunting it around like it was a flag. He frowned, scratched his head, shrugged, and began pottering, once more, through the party.
Oh, that was precious. She ambled over and poked Mister Turkey in the arm.
((Whoops, moving this up the thread!))
A teenaged... person (for their gender was indistinguishable) nervously slipped through the doors, clearly not wanting to be there very much. Their delicately cut suit was made of complimentary shades of white and blue, fading into each other where the colors met, and shot through with silver and black. The pants and jacket hung loosely off the person's slim frame, and the shirt was made of a flowing gray material. Their mask was an intricate affair of dark blue and black feathers flowing up from ornately filigreed black metal that covered most of the person's face except for the bottom quarter. The exposed part of their face didn't reveal much about them. Short, fluffy gray-brown hair could be espied on the back of their head where the feathers stopped. Their eyes behind the mask seemed to be all different colors; blue, then green, then grey, even brown. This person, after coming in, found the nearest unoccupied wall space and stood there fidgeting, obviously impatient to be gone.
The man in the plain mask noticed the person fidgeting by the wall and decided to make conversation.
"Hello," he said, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket for the umpteenth time. "Do you, um... have any idea what we're supposed to actually be doing here tonight?" he asked. To his mind, it was perfectly logical to ask the most uncomfortable person at an event what one ought to be doing. This had led to some... interesting... experiences in the past.
The person said, in a low, mumbling voice. They looked down in embarrassment, and then to the side, twitched, and looked generally uncomfortable.
At last, they made a brave attempt at conversation: "Um... so, what's your name?" They cringed slightly, that was a stupid thing to ask, and tried again. "I mean, not your real name, of course. That would void the entire purpose of such an event," they flushed and stuttered, "Just... I mean, what should I call you? If we're making conversation, that is." Their voice began to trail off awkwardly, "Uh... Never mind."
"Call me the Concerned One," the masked man said, before mentally smacking himself. He really should have come up with a better name; what on Earth made him think he could roleplay like this?
"What should I call you?" the Concerned One asked, deciding to shift the focus away from himself.
"S- Sapphire. Just Sapphire," Sapphire said. "I mean, I was going to call myself Cobalt," they continued, gaining confidence slightly now that there was something to actually talk about, "but I like the color of sapphires better, though I do admit that Cobalt would have fit my color scheme more." Sapphire looked up at The Concerned One, "Would you agree, sir?"
"They're pretty similar," he said. "Though Sapphire does make for a better name. Plus, it's a Pokémon reference, right?"
"I hadn't thought of that. I suppose it could be, if one were a Pokémon fan, but I am not."
"I thought for sure you were Iximaz, but they're definitely a fan of Pokémon... ah, well."
He finally noticed the person's obvious discomfort.
"I should probably see what the other guests are up to," the Concerned One said, glancing around at the people who had arrived while they were talking. "I hope you enjoy the party."
They fidgeted a bit more and then said, "Um... I can definitely see why you thought I was Iximaz. From what I know of them, I gather that they're not the best conversationalist either. You're not bothering me, just so you know, I just never really know what to say, that's all." Sapphire glanced around; "Do you think there's a refreshment table anywhere?"
"Refreshments are on the east side of the room - right from the door." She smiles at the both of the guests as she slips by.
"Oh, hi. T- thanks," they called after her softly, "And... um... happy birthday!" Sapphire turned back to The Concerned One, "Sooo... see you around, I guess? Nice meeting you. Uh... bye, then." The blue-suited teen wandered awkwardly away towards the refreshment table.
An adult slipped into the building, dressed in a formal white suit and wearing a wolf mask. His dark hair poked out from the sides of the mask, and he had a wooden cane with a dragon head for a handle. "Tonight should be fun." His brown eyes danced around the room, taking in everyone, seeking someone in particular.
Though you wouldn't be able to tell behind his mask, the man was smiling. He pulled his black cloak close around himself as he entered. Upon seeing the crowd, he decided to move to the walls, where there was less chance of accidentally bumping into someone else.
"Yes, I'm quite all right, thank you." The figure dusted his black cloak off after getting up. He hoped he didn't have to properly talk to them; he was mostly here for the intrigue of the thing, and to humor the hostess, more than for the sake of actually talking to anyone (a prospect that, frankly, was rather unappealing to him).
A breeze passed near the Herald's face as the rustling sound started. When the lights came back on, the Garnet Ghast was standing a fair distance away, and one of their sleeves was moving ever-so-slightly. They exhaled a little, and wafted towards the Herald. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
A cane tapped gently on the back of the dress wearer. "Hello. I'm very curious about the dress."
They breathed out when they saw who it was, and after analyzing the man, they smiled a little. "Oh, hello! What are you curious about... Perhaps, shall I call you Dragon of the Angel?" They raised their eyebrows, unsure if the other would understand what they was trying to say.
The man shook his head after a moment. "Ok. Better question. Is that magic?"
"Yes, it is. I believed that, given our hostess, having a dress that would make me trip over my own feet would probably be a bad idea." They raised their eyebrows and added, "Do you not recognize who I speak of you as? There are other names I could use, but, well, I'm trying to avoid giving a hint to eavesdroppers." They smiled again and glanced at the crowd around them.
The man nodded his head. "Considering who she is, I can't disagree with a desire to be able to evade or escape." Then he tilted his head. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure I'm familiar with what you're referencing. I'm going by the White Wolf tonight."
"Given her display just now, I think this will come in handy, especially since I do have a task to do, apparently." They bit their lip behind their mask, then, in a whisper, said, "Perhaps... Regent of the Angel of Madness would be a better title?"
"I suppose that does mean good proof. Sadly, The Good Lady was unavailable this evening. I'm sure she would find our Hostess' plans amusing." He smiled a little. "What kind of task do you have? Perhaps it will be easier with some help?"
"Careful, now," they said, almost teasingly. "You wouldn't want anyone to overhear that, would you? But, regardless of that, I've been told to find a watcher. I'm not sure what it means, but I had been planning on looking soon." They raised their eyebrows behind their mask, realized that couldn't be seen, and so tilted their head to the side slightly. "Perhaps you could help me look?"
She dodges around the Ghast, dropping a small piece of paper as she goes, and tilts her head to the Wolf before moving along as though nothing had happened.
It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. They considered just doing it themselves, but decided a second set of eyes might see something they missed. They held the piece of paper out to the White Wolf and said, "Can you make heads or tails of this?"
"Ok. I really hope this is in code. Either that or an animal was given a typewriter." He paused in thought, putting a hand to his chin. "Which, given our hostess, I would not rule out as a possibility, if only to mess with our heads."
Finally, they slapped their mask and grabbed their phone from a pocket. "Alright, let's see..." They typed away, and finally, had an idea. A few searches, a scrap of paper, and suddenly, they looked up at the White Wolf, triumph radiating from them. They leaned in close to the White Wolf and whispered something in his ear, then looked after the Hostess. "It's funny. I was just about to do what she was talking about, if you'll do me the honor of accompanying me."
"Interesting. I think I will. After all, the lone wolf dies when the pack survives." He bowed his head slightly, and rubbed his finger on the snout of his dragon cane. "Oddly, I don't think I've asked your...well, not your name, but what I should call you."
"Then let us explore together and see what we can find. I think you know my name by now, but as for what you may call me... Well, I was going to show up in black and go by the Sable Spectre, but we both know why I didn't, so I'm going by the Garnet Ghast instead." They started walking, although not quickly, making sure the White Wolf was following, and looking around the room.
"Garnet Ghast. I like it. Still prefer my White Wolf, but then again, I'm biased." He shrugged a little, following the walk as he scanned the room.
He shrugged. "My role seems to be irrelevant so far. I am more worried than interested about what may occur, knowing our Hostess. It'll be fun either way, but I'm just wondering how much panic I'll be in before it's over."
"Yeah, that sounds bad. I'll go with, but recruiting someone else might be a good idea." He glanced around the room. "Maybe we could find someone, but this could be fun either way. Death could be unpleasant, but it depends if it sticks."
The Concerned One entered soon after, dressed in a simple yet formal black suit and red tie, with an undecorated half-mask covering everything above the tip of his nose. His dark hair was shaved on the sides but long enough to curl a bit on top, but no other features were noticeable. He looked around the party scene, clearly uncomfortable for some reason; an observant person could have heard him mutter, "Here we go," before he walked further into the room.
((Here goes nothing!))
Someone slips into the house.
Dressed in a suit the colour of wine, the person's face was almost completely hidden behind an intricate clockwork sculpture that slowly ticked and shifted about. It was quite honestly a miracle how it didn't break the person's neck, based on how complex it was.
He, for he was male, moved to mingle with the crowd.
"Good evening," said the Raven, stepping up to meet the clockwork stranger. "My goodness, your costume is stunning. Might I inquire how long it took you to craft it?"
"Good evening to you too," the Clockwork stranger replied. "My mask was designed two days ago, and I spent all of yesterday constructing it."
After a moment, he leaned closer and added, "The secret is 3D printing and really good bronze spray paint."
After a second of introspective silence, the Raven gestured towards the food table, which was overflowing with many delicious-looking treats. "Well, I'm going to get a drink. If you want to join me-?"
"I'm itching to see if there's any cake," the clockwork stranger said. "What do you think it will look like?"
The Raven sighed longingly, acutely aware of the time of the night and the time of her breakfast that morning. "I haven't eaten since this morning. Gosh, you're making me hungry, now." She looked over towards the food again. "Cake sounds great, but my eyesight isn't the best. I can't see any at the moment."
"Wow," they thought, "That's a lot of dessert. Impressive sweet tooth, Cal." Glancing over the table, they noticed the cards and raised an eyebrow, muttering under their breath, "Huh, interesting." Not noticing the Raven and Springs eyeing the cards, they picked both cards up and slipped them into their pocket. The red velvet cake looked appetizing, though mainly due to its impressive frosting job, and so they grabbed a slice of that too, before drifting away to the nearest wall again.
Picking up the cards and putting them together has opened a doorway of sorts in your mind. You feel as though you have gained new abilities beyond what an ordinary human being ought to be able to do.
((Congratulations! You got magics!))
She had not expected Sapphire to take both cards - or, for that matter, to be so adversely affected by them... well, she supposed, one is usually forced to die to achieve godhood. Good thing I toned it down, or this would get quite messy quite quickly.
That was the price for not having to die, though... reduced power. How annoying it could be.
He tapped his cane on the ground. "Happy birthday, and hello." He took a glance at the table, hoping to find another card. Magic was always fun. Not seeing any, he turned to Sapphire. "The Ghast over there and I are planning a bit of exploring. Care to join us?"
But they nodded, despite that. "Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll join you guys for your... um... exploring. Lead the way."
"Meet us there when you're ready. At this point, we might have half the party in on the fun." He half turned, and vanished, appearing elsewhere.
For all her talk of bad eyesight, she seemed to have a very good sense for things that were out of place. "Hey," she said to her clockwork companion as she snagged a cupcake from the nearest tray, "look, normally I'd grab both of those cards over there for myself, but normally I don't have somebody with me." She finished the cupcake with a messy shower of crumbs, and shrugged. "So what I'm saying is basically- you take one card, I take the other? Knowing Calliope, they're probably important to the plot or something."
"Or, okay, never mind," she said as a gender-unspecific person pocketed both of them. She had a quick mental debate as to whether she should go after them or not, but ultimately decided against doing that in favor of more cake. "I'll see you around, then," she said to her clockwork companion, and wandered off into the midst of the party, nibbling absently on a cupcake.
The doors swing open, and the diminutive figure of a classy young lady in a crimson Victorian-style dress makes her way into the party. She pauses at the door, adjusting her mask- a black, feathered affair that covers only the top half of her face but does nothing to conceal her mouth or the color of her hair- medium length, brown and spilling down her back in a low pony tail. As she raises her arms, it becomes apparent that a pair of wings in the same color of scarlet, are part of the dress, attached to her wrists- when she moves her arms, they move with her. "Well," she says, grinning. "This should certainly be interesting."
((I'm probably doing this wrong.))