#carnival

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Test

Just typing up the first post.

Just as an FYI, Ice's outfit:

Nice!

((Add cane and tophat.))

She waits for them in the garden, dressed in her white tatters only they seem longer now. Almost like a dress. Her mask a half mask, also white. Though now the copper colored stains look even more blood like. Like little crimson droplets locked in time. Tear shaped rubies that glitter in the light. A single ruby tear is settled on her mask just below her left eye. A black ribbon holding the mask to her face, tied behind her head. Her hair is brushed, falling smooth, and her red eyes glitter. Both in the fae and the mundane world, they can be seen. She sits up in a tree, simply waiting. The moon shining in the gardens sky.

(Ice grumbles and mutters about silk top hats, and remembering to duck before getting into cars. The black wooden cane is better handled, albeit he tends to hold it like a club about to be wielded, gripped halfway down its length)

Zara follows, tying the ribbon of her black domino mask into place. She's a pierrot, all black and white.

(Ice's outfit might look better if he had dress shoes. But he doesn't. Top hat, cane, tie and....steeltoed boots. Ah, well)

She peers down at them and leaps down from the tree. Her costume flutters around her, almost making it look as though she might have floated down. Her wrapped feet touch the ground and she looks towards a willow. "I picked a few trods with courts nearby. We do not need to waste the whole night traveling after all." Whispered lightly. "Remember there are only three rules of Carnival. 1. There can be no retribution for any spoken word, or deed done. 2. All fae who attend are welcome and safe." Choseing her words carefully. 3. Merriment must reign. There well be many enchanted tonight, many many mortals. "

"It's early. Is Protocol common at these?" (The mask hides his expression, but they both can imagine the narrowed, thinking eyes)

"In some of the seelie courts, at least until the party spills outside."

(His lips twist, and he taps the end of the cane on his chin. Then) "Will it do any good to practice?"

"You can at least see its effects. No?" She nods to Ice then looks to Zara. "Ready Miss?"

Zara nods, hanging back.

"Depends. We need someone who WANTS to start trouble, to know for sure, nu?"

"Not keen on walking up, and breaking the Baron's toe with my cane to find out."

((Nice!))

She starts for a trod. "It is carnival. People seeking trouble will be everywhere. Come the first court is seelie, at a hotel on the other side of the city. This trod well save us cab fare." She pushes on branch. "Most trods are open and free on carnival. After all, it is a party."

Then she suddenly pauses before stepping on to the trod. "We will need these." Her hand opens, offering each of them some earplugs.

"Yeah. This is going to be a bitch." (He takes two, and puts them on before starting after)

She takes her pair, tucking them into place. "Very crowded, I expect.."

"You've probably done this before, Ghost. My first."

"Not for long. Always loud at the Hollow.."

"Off to seelie land we go. Remember no harm, all are safe. And no repercussions can take place for deeds done or words said this night." She moves onto the trod. It is like one would expect a seelie trod to be. The silver path shining in the moonlight. Lit up by festive paper lanterns. Nevers fluttering back and forth along the path. The sound of a party ahead. Of music and dancing. The scent of drinking on the air, mixed with the heady smell of many moving bodies.

"All safe." (His grin challenges that very idea)

"No harm. Right."

Zara is definitely lagging.

"To those of us who are fae." Said softly, almost under her breath. And the trod ends in the edge of a great hall. They seem to step out of a life size Victorian painting of a party. Thirteen waits until they both step into the room. There is music, there is dancing. But it is sedate, polite, controlled for now. Nobles and commoners a like mingling. A bored but beautiful Baroness watching over the proceeding from her throne like chair. The need to be polite is heavy in the air. People are smiling, but are they. With so many masks it is hard to tell.

(He steps through, and then to the side, waiting for Zara to catch up)

Zara grimaces, feeling the stifling compulsion... while inclined to be polite, the air of it rankles her, rubs like a scratchy tag on the back of her neck.

(He turns to the ladies, murmuring) "Care to dance?" (Behind the mask, his eyes glint) "While the Lady waiting her turn, mingles? And..." (A quick grin; no one can mistake him for anything but sluagh; his toothless grin is black and wolfish) "Maybe finds out a little about the Baroness?"

"Always more interesting to hear about her from those who have grievances, though. Isn't it?"

Her whisper is for sluagh ears only and with the music they are the ones who would catch them. "Our Baroness here often tries to control carnival as it comes around. She never fully succeeds but yet, year after year...she tries. I am sure the others of this court would have more to say about it. If not for the current cantrip in effect."

"She should be the fool. Why is she not in her cap?"

"Miss Pierrot is probably the best one to find out what they have to say, don't you think?" (He flicks eyes over) "Oh, somebody'll take care of that, I hope."

"I... there's... " she looks out over the crowd - perhaps there are other sluagh? Nockers?

"In the meantime?" (He holds out a gloved hand to Thirteen, still with that slightly unpleasant, wolfish grin)

"Someone always does..." Her whisper soft. As Zara looks over the crowd she can see other kiths, mixed in with mortals. All dancing as the protocol dictates. The satyrs and sluagh are perhaps the easiest to spot at first glance. One for their legs, the other because, kind knows kind?

Her own hands are gloved. Though she does not seem to concerned with people brushing against her for a change. Perhaps she thinks they deserve what they get?

"She must needs be a fool."

(He grasps Thirteen's hands, and rasps to Zara as he pulls Thirteen out to the floor) "So help make her one!"

She takes Ices hand as it is offered, and follows him to the floor.

(He's not a dancer. But he's graceful enough to follow the examples of the others on the floor, rasping low to Thirteen as he leads) "You're sure she can know? I trust her, do you?"

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"You said it was pretty dam....a pretty rare cantrip."