#carnival

"It is a shadow court art that I have given you." Being honest and perhaps as blunt as he is. "If you think she can handle it, if you trust her. Then tell her. But you still did not get it from me."

The pierrot drifts - pale and silent, weaving through the crowd with open ears...

A Troll in a an old style Tux, and white face paint marked to look like a skull waves from a short distance. Judging by the outfit, he's gone as Baron Samedi the voodoo loa

Zara does here murmurs of discontent. Not direct. No never. Whispers of tradition being broken all for a nobles dignity.

(His eyes widen behind the mask. But his shock is momentary, before he rasps) "She saw you give me the book, saw me get it back. I can NOT tell her, but she'll figure it out, you know."

(Then he looks up, rasping) "Earl? Earl is HERE?"

"Then she will figure it out in the time." Said softly.

(The second shock in a row. But he lets go of her hand to lift his own back to the troll; it's not hard to tell the two sluagh, really; Thirteen is in her tatters, Ice's mask only covers the top of his face)

She looks about for the troll. Her eyes narrowing. "Interesting."

Earl's not known to anyone here (he thinks at least )except the sluagh, so when the notice, he tips his hat.

Zara hasn't yet noticed the Baron-troll, but likely her tumble of white hair marks her out.

A satyr dressed as a highway man starts for sluagh, perhaps noticing her without a partner. He gives her a rakish bow. "M'lady." And offers his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Slowly moves his way to the sluagh , perhaps too slowly, it would seem at least one of the ladies is being grabbed for a dance?

"A fool may dance, sir." she touches her dunce-cap and drops into a curtsey.

(Ice has Thirteen on the floor -- shockingly)

(A rasp into Thirteen's ear)

He is dressed in velvet and seems to have a sword at his side. Peace tied? Well of course. "I do not believe I have seen you here before." The satyr states as he takes her into his arms, swirling her easily around the floor. His hooves naturally finding the beat of the music.

Zara is graceful - not well versed in dancing, but light on her feet. "It is a night for many places, for unknown faces. Though I am surprised to not see another foolscap here..."

A wistful look , and he glances about. This place seems more formal than he expected a carnival to be.

Thirteen nods to Ice, then moves away from him. Her white tatters fluttering as she moves towards Earl the Baron. She looks slightly different than usual. With a white half mask, and small ruby like jems at the end of her tatters. Glittering like tiny drops of blood.

(He watches her go with sharp eyes, then looks around, looking for another. His eyes fix on the sidhe Baroness, narrowed, trying to discern her House)

"She said she would throw a party, but not allow the traditions of old. That they are demeaning or some-such." His voice is smooth. His steps easy to follow. "She tries this every year and yet...the night always seems to settle right."

Assuming he heard Thirteen say that, and he might have, he smiles, "Bit of mojo making it right perhaps before it comes then?"

"Mayhaps... if she has forgotten... it could be possible to offer her the proper crown? As a gift, an acclamation for the queen of fools..."

"For I can think of naught more foolish than to not allow Carnival..."

It seems she is of House Gwydion. Beautiful of course but stern in her visage. A gaggle of boggan girls move past Ice giving him a once over. An a pooka with dog like ears seems to have some interest.

(A sardonic lift of his top-hat to the boggan girls passing, his dark eyes following them)

The satyr shakes his head. "This year if anyone gets close, her adviser orders us to stand down." He scowls slightly.

"And bound, you must.... ah..."

Thirteen moves up to Earl. "Salutations." A low soft whisper of greeting.

(Although he is unaware of it, even masked, his fine bone structure, high cheekbones and dark full lips, still show something of what's beneath, his silken dark hair wings of ink framing his face. His grin is vaguely unpleasant, but might be called' rakish', by some)

"Evening," He says affecting a slight accent to fit his role, "My loss, I come to find the lovely ladies are seized in the arms of the quick footed," He winks, the costume making him more extroverted or t least bolder.

She looks to Zara. "Ah, fast things satyrs are." She rasps. "I am sorry I can only offer you second best, but perhaps you would care to dance?" Sounding a bit out of character perhaps? But it is carnival.

(He narrows eyes, considering Earl, then moves for the bar, if there is one, or punch bowl. Using his nose to detect the strongest alcoholic beverage)

The boggan girls giggle. One can almost see a flush only just hidden by a mask.

"I'd be honored I be thinking," He offers an arm

(He stops partway, hearing the giggle, and flicks eyes back)

The satyr nods to Zara. "I am in service to her. But this I do not agree with. It is not right."

(He seems to be debating)

A gloved hand rests lightly on Earls arm. Covered in a thick sort of glove. But she moves easily, almost gracefully.

He can smell punch, and he can smell strongly spiked punch. Perhaps someone else also agrees this party is not enough.

"It is not, agreed. So...."

(Second post for Ice)

Earl is not as strong as most trolls, but he's agile enough, and has a little training it seems, so he moves well for one his size, he certainly manages not to lumber too much.

The satyr looks down at Zara. "Are you plotting something m'lady?" The satyr has an almost wicked twinkle to his eyes.

Thirteen glances up at Earl through her mask. "Tell me sir, what brings you to this party this eve?"

(Then he keeps going, after a second, to find two large cups, and fill them from the punch bowl. He edges through the crowds, reminding himself -- don't scowl, don't scowl)

"It's carnival, and it's my family's custom to go out in disguise to holds held by nobles and enjoy them falling on their faces... but looks like that's not happening here."

"I? I am a mere clown. I do not plot...."

(One of the cups is only half filled)