Summer's Eve Ball, part 1
[ Rooftop Gardens - Royal Palace ]
You stand upon a broad expanse of the palace roof set aside for a quiet garden. With the spectacular view of the city, the countryside and the surrounding battlements, one can meander amongst the potted plants and trees without worry of interruption or interference from the common populace. Fragrant bushes carefully tended into topiaries delight the eyes, flowers and herbs grant a tantalizing treat to one's nose. There is even a hedge maze with blooming bushes in season where one might sit upon benches in hidden corners or contemplate works of art that can be discovered and enjoyed.
[Setting & Views -- by Raphaela at Sun Jun 13 12:58:57 2010]
THE NIGHT IS HERE! And the Rooftop Gardens are transformed!
The spectacular view and surrounding architecture are framed with a new cloak this fair summer evening. The breeze is soft and the stars are bright, with the full moon rising above the lights of the city. The scents twine into an intoxicating symphony as the river of guests trickles from the palace. To enter the Gardens one must pass through the large arches of massive wooden mirror frames and lazy flutters of transparent fabrics glimmering with gold.
Within the mirror is an enchanted lost garden beyond time of which many have dreamed but rare few have seen. After a few playful and disorienting turns through a labyrinth of hedges and blooming roses, the view suddenly booms out to the centre of the happening. The staff dressed as delightfully pagan inhabitants of the forests roam the peripheries of the large circular dance floor where massive slabs of black and white stone are covered with thick, soft moss. Above it, among the branches of blooming trees and dreamy silken sheets float round lanterns of soft glowing colors in various sizes. A small orchestra is set to one side of the dance floor, on what seems to be a broken piece of ancient marble terrace half drowned in the green embrace of nature. From it, romantically decayed pillars are set to frame the circular dancing area, separating it loosely from the space where foods, drinks and chatter can be found.
Beyond that, the park peels off into several more intimately lit, dreamy scenes - groves and statues arranged to entice guests into short walks, star gazing or a private concert in charming spots where lone musicians dressed up as forest creatures pluck a harp or a lyre. Here and there a statue or a tree moves and a surprised guest can see that there is living art set out through nature as well as its more usual, unmoving counterpart. Acrobats and dancers, musicians and others are all melted up into a magnificent, breathing piece of art. Some trees are set with heavy, offering fruits made out of ingeniously arranged food and drinks. Throughout the garden one can find gorgeous arrangements of rare roses, and also poetry and art scattered into hidden corners like Easter eggs.
All in all, the Rooftop Garden is full of delightful sensations and surprises to explore, and it appears to have been there, as it is, from the beginning of time, celebrating the treasures of nature and life.
Caine <> comes here from the direction of the Azure Solar - Royal Palace.
Caine <> arrived.
Chrys arrives with Bianca at one arm and a mask in the other, after showing invitations and the like and following the prompts and other guests up to the gardens. The mask he holds is more of a work of art than his costume, and catches the light as he waves it before his face, when he's not looking about with intense interest. "They really have outdone themselves," he says, his voice cultured in the way of choir singers.
"Baroness de Sorgo has certainly outdone herself. I was privy to some of her efforts and must admit I am awestruck," Bianca replies, moving alongside her companion as her reedy neck spins left and right, bright eyes usurping the lavish surroundings and widening with ever growing wonder. Her gown is a stark contrast to the delicate white and saffron attire of the man whose arm she claims - succeeding only in making both costumes all the more striking.
Dirk comes here from the direction of the Third Floor Rear - Royal Palace.
Dirk has arrived.
"Yes, the fashion gossipers will have a job distracting themselves from the setting, though you do rather make it easy for them, looking so lovely." Chrys stops gawking at the gardens to give Bianca a grin and his mask a light twirl between the fingers of his right hand.
Guests are trickling through in awe, and hostess waits, bowing to them lightly in welcome and greeting as the procession continues.
Bianca delves a playful bob of a courtesy to Chrys, her smile fleeting though no less appreciative. Twin brows knit in semblance of concern as she reaches a hand of fanned thin fingers to touch the hilt of the mask he carries, "It isn't too heavy, is it?"
Dirk is detained by staff at entry. NO shoes allowed.
Dirk takes off his shoes then.
Chrys looks to Bianca and shakes his head. "Not so much. A drink would be heavier, I think, though that is a correctable problem. Where would you like to go first? I admit to being a little lost in all the color at the moment."
Sandals of various sizes and togas (for people who dare to come in black) are provided at entrance... then of course, they are not violent at it.
Chrys somehow got in with boots on. He's that good. Clearly, staff will have to chase that man down with the rules sometime.
Dirk smiles and blows the maid a little kiss "Thank you dear." He wanders around looking quite overwhelmed.
Melisande enters from Third Floor Rear.
Melisande has arrived.
Clearly, staff neglects to chase that Chrys down for wearing boots. Raphaela, however approaches through her mingling "Greetings, welcome to the Summer Eve Ball, m'lady, m'lord." she looks at Bianca "You look STUNNING."
Oriana comes here from the direction of the North Wing - Royal Palace.
Oriana has arrived.
"We do not /have/ to go anywhere in particular, but meander aimlessly until the fancy strikes us to pause a while," Bianca suggests to Chrys, lending the man's sleeve a gentle tug. Raphaela's approach is greeted with a smile - her claret gown clearly having distracted the vigilant attendants from Chrys's footwear, "Baroness! Oh but this is splendid! I think I might never go home!"
"Meandering is quite the style, I think," Chrys mutters, before greeting Raphaela with a cordial bow, done while keeping his arm in place for Bianca. "Baroness," he says, formally, glancing between the women as they exchange greetings and dress comments. The mask he holds glitters with the idle movement he keeps up with it; the blond man must like the shiny.
After running the gambit of the labyrinthine entrance, the flower formerly known as Melisande arrives upon the scene, her masked eyes taking a lazy glance over the decor and guests.
Raphaela smiles softly and looks around "It turned out well, didn't it. Please enjoy yourself." she looks at the gentleman "Mind you, do not ruin the moss with your boots m'lord. DO enjoy yourself, there is plenty to explore." her golden bracelets sparkle as she gestures, and then she inclines her head with a smile and heads to the next group.
Dirk is wandering around listening to Raphaela and others speak.
Adjusting the flower wreath in her hair, Oriana strolls in, a riot of color, gold, blue, red and white flowers adorn her dress and hair, native flowers from her homeland perhaps for they were flowers that themselves contained multicolor on the petals.
Bianca's cerulean blues linger upon the stately pillar of Raphaela's back as the woman departs. She leans a hair's breadth closer to her companion (Chrys), whispering a wispy trill into the shell of the man's ear.
While guests are starting to pour in, they still seem to be shy and avoid the large dance floor. Orchestra with classic and quite a few unorthodox instruments play lightly still, staff dressed as pagan creatures circulating strong, spiced wine.
Melisande, it so happens, is in the next group to approach Raphaela. The young woman/flower dips her head low, and carefully! Wouldn't want to lose the mask, "My Lady. A lovely enchantment, to be sure. My gratitude for providing such diversion."
"I'll be sure to step lightly," Chrys promises. Once the Baroness has moved on, he gives Bianca a light grimace and leans to take in her whisper. Whatever is said invokes a loud laugh, a sound that runs the scales; the man must be a singer as well as a fashion faux pas. He murmurs back, looking pleased.
Raphaela wears no mask, just more make up than usual, her pale eyes startling in their nests of kohl as she smiles at Melisande "It is a pleasure to be of use to Princess Flora as it is, I am glad you approve, m'lady, and I do hope the Garden provides you with as much joy as your dress does to one who beholds it."
Bianca stifles a frothing laugh that manifests in a throaty chortle, the fingers of her dully manicured hand tracing the elaborate embellishment on Chrys's sleeve. She begins to move even as she whispers, diligently claiming a flute of something sparkling from a passing server. This she proffers to her companion in exchange of her hand, prior to claiming a drink of her own.
Chrys takes the drink, glancing to the entryway as more guests stream in. His own mask wafts in one hand, and with a drink in the other, the blond man seems ready for the festivities. He comments low, watching Melisande a moment before his blue gaze moves on.
Dirk hears Bianca's laugh and smiles. He finds a drink and claims it to be his.
The sprawling guests linger about drinking, mingling and clustering. Also, commenting on the fashion pearls that already showed up, and some not so lucky as to be pearls of the floral theme.
Sudden drop in conversation is caused by band starting up a louder, livelier tune. Seems the entertainment is due.
Melisande lowers her head once more to Raphaela, completely obscuring her features with the help of moonlight and mask. Over the music, she extends an introduction, "You are too kind. I would know the name of such a useful helper, if you would provide it? I, in turn, am Melisande, daughter of Prince Julian."
Leon brings a flower-wound staff up with him, tapping his way into the roof gardens where he pauses and looks around, before making his way towards a cluster of people of about his age.
Nobility and honored guests of many a golden circle land start to clutter around the pillars, overlooking the dance floor. Bare footed female dancers in light tunics and with bangles chiming on their ankles and arms stream in from one side, holding hands and twirling the serpent they created around the circle of moss.
Raphaela smiles at Melisande "Raphaela de Sorgo, a pleasure to meet you."
Dirk watches the dancers and smiles as he drinks in a cluster of one.
Bianca takes the liberty to clang her flute with a melodic chime against Chrys's, her waxen features lit with an artificial blush from the pink pollen of the flower worn at her neck.
Leon ooohs at the serpent of moss, and goes forward to see it more closely. He is short.
Chrys grins, lifting his glass in salute to Bianca even as the chime of the crystal sounds. As the girls begin dancing on the dance floor, he watches, commenting low and sipping his drink.
Raphaela is a hostess, but instead of staying put and waiting for guests to approach her she mingles around and greets the guests that lurk for her attention. Currently she is talking to Melisande, but politely nods to the guests that pass by, greeting.
Leon finds himself next to Oriana, so that his rose-petal cloak brushes her and he stops to mutter an apology.
Leon forms a cluster with Oriana.
Melisande allows a smile to drift across her lips, "A pleasure, milady de Sorgo. I'll keep you no longer, for I've a fondness for dancing girls." A blue-eyed wink, barely seen in the moonlight and the obscurity of the mask follows, and Melisande moves on.
The chimes set a hypnotic rhythm as the line of the dancers coils unto itself and than out again, a swirl of tunics, limbs and song that rises up sounding exotic yet familiar.
Raphaela chuckles and inclines her head to Melisande as her eyes survey the gathering, noting who is who, with whom, wearing what... 'Welcome, please enjoy yourself. ‘to this noble or that... staff doing what they are supposed to do.... She smiles at the dancers occupying the dance floor, like someone who knows something others don't.
Dirk is standing aside watching the dancers with a drink in his hand. He is quietly doing so.
Bianca lifts the pall of her claret gown high enough to display a pair of intricately wrought winged sandals. She clicks the heels of her apropos footwear together, shedding a cascade of luminous sparks. Waxen features are endlessly animated as she speaks to Chrys, ending her zeal with a salute in Leon's general direction.
Frank walks towards the way down.
Frank has left.
Chrys leans a bit to gaze at Bianca's... sandals, nodding approvingly before laughing. He comments quietly, his mask lifting in no particular direction and dropping a bit, like a hatchet. Not that he would dare mime hatchet-ing Leon at all.
Leon is looking at Oriana, and so the salute is quite lost to him, although a taller man behind him responds to the salute with a nod.
The band abruptly stops mid-tune, and the dancers freeze in horror in the middle of the dance floor, their bangles stop chiming! Sudden, tribal rhythm of the drums erupts from the grove behind the band and two lines of men dressed in fur and colored lively step in, playing drums and surrounding the female nymph like dancers.
Kincaid enters from Third Floor Rear.
Kincaid has arrived.
Melisande's simple sandals take her in the direction of the dancing fray, her lips curving up secretively. And she comes to a halt, right next to poor, unsuspecting Dirk. The young woman leans over, her voice low and her expression amused.
Melisande forms a cluster with Dirk.
Frank enters from Third Floor Rear.
Frank has arrived.
Kincaid walks out into the gardens during the shift in music and dancers. Glancing around for familiar faces and taking in the spectacle of the performers, he slips on green tinted sunglasses and searches for a drink.
Chrys watches the odd show, speaking quietly with Bianca as he keeps on the lookout for new costumes and glory.
A battle of sexes begins among the artists on the dance floor, under the full moon and soft light of the lanterns, the men impose with a powerful roll of rhythm and the women reply with a jingle of bangles through their dance.
Dirk is talking to Melisande quietly.
Frank enters the rooftop gardens. He scans the scene, taking in the decorations and the people attending.
Celeste comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Celeste has arrived.
As the spiced wine circulates the audience that watches the show, more than a few of guests start holding up the rhythm with the clap of their hands. Slowly, the choreography starts to converge the battle lines and serpent of women starts twirling around men static in their drumming. The beat rises up.
Bianca's flaxen lashes veil the genuine nature of her gaze that is directed resolutely at the dance floor. A smug crescent of coral lips drowned within the nadirs of her sparkling flute.
Chrys stands with Bianca near the dance floor, flute of drink in his left hand and a fine mask on a bone stick in his right. The lights of the event catch his blond hair and the gems on his costume.
Raphaela's eyes in their cloud of black, settle from greeting one guest to another.
Melisande's lips tug upwards in her conversation with Dirk, eyes still on the dancing spectacle. She responds to something he's said with a dip of her dark head.
Frank departs the entrance of the gardens and heads for the bar.
Harold enters from Third Floor Rear.
Harold has arrived.
Guinevere enters from Third Floor Rear.
Guinevere has arrived.
With drink in hand, meandering seems the thing to do. Smiling at the outfits and costumes people put together, despite the fact he failed ultimately in creating one himself or didn't bother too. Until Kincaid finds a tactical perch along the balcony rail to watch the party from. Just an outsider looking in.
Celeste pauses and glances around slowly, hands clasped in front of her. She double-takes when she spies Frank and her eyebrows go up. She sweeps over to join him, grinning.
Celeste forms a cluster with Frank.
Bianca is a bright stain of claret against the backdrop of Chrys's pale white and saffron tastefully bejeweled. She does not reply to her companion for what seems to be a rather tedious span of time.
Raphaela pads softly across the grass and makes her way towards the dance floor where the rhythm rises up to wildness of drums and chimes...then the music ends and so does the performance, artists remaining in the poses, creating a true living sculpture as they await for the judgment of the guests.
Frank just arrives at the bar when Celeste sneaks up on him. He turns his head and grins, saying something to her.
Guinevere is escorted by a /very/ uncomfortable looking Harold. His nod to the theme a single Highland Rose attached to his doublet. He leans down to whisper to Guinevere.
Chrys is squinting, watching the dancers like he's trying to puzzle out the deep meaning of life they're trying to convey. The gap in conversation with Bianca doesn't appear to bother him, and eventually he murmurs reply.
Frank stands at the bar talking to Celeste. He spots Dirk and offers him a waves before turning back to Celeste.
Celeste flashes another grin at Frank and casts a brief glance around before her gaze settles back on Frank.
Harold tugs at his doublet, trying to straighten it out.
As the applause washes over them, dancers and drummers bow and slink away, leaving the dance floor empty. Raphaela settled herself on the steps in front of the orchestra by this time, hands folded.
Bianca looks up at Chrys with shrill avian grace, budding smile stringently tempered into a no-nonsense-spoon-full-of sugar expression that succeeds in quirking a single gilt brow.
Dirk is speaking to Melisande and might not have caught the wave.
Chrys answers with a low word and reaches to collect her glass, likely to deposit both on a passing tray. The mask he holds bobs down at her, hatchet-like again, though not taking out her eye. That would be rude.
Bianca isn't greedy; she has two and thus relinquishes her unfinished flute in humble favor of Chrys's hand.
Donned in a gown inspired by the far reaches of the past in Lyonesse, Guinevere steps onto the rooftop garden, arm in arm with the Grand Master of the Knights of the Graal, Sir Harold. Her golden hair falls in long ringlets over her shoulders, emerald eyes looking about widely. She stays very close to her escort, as though for protection from the other nobility. Her sandals are made entirely of the same runic designs as those which grace the tightly-cinched bodice of her dress.
When guests quiet down, the statue of a Roman Goddess moves, and speaks. Acoustics of the place is simply stunning, considering it is an open space. Knowing ear would know it must have taken some effort.
"Dear Guests, thank you for honoring this occasion with your presence and welcome to the Sun Court's Summer Eve Ball!" she waits for a moment for guests to resettle and continues with a smile "With patronage of Princess Florimel, tonight, we celebrate the light of life and joy of living! Let's dance!"
Leon offers his hand to Oriana.
Walter comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Walter has arrived.
Chrys rids himself of the glasses and takes Bianca's hand, stepping her out onto the mossy dance floor. True to his word, he steps lightly with his disallowed boots, leading her into the beginnings of a waltz. The mask glitters ahead of them like a flag on the bow of a ship; he's rather skilled at keeping it safe as they dance.
The orchestra strikes a quick, playful waltz tune popular around Amber these days - and dancing truly begins.
Melisande is in the midst of giving a shrug to Dirk, near to where Raphaela is making her speech. "Why, yes, my Lord, I would like a drink." Her grin is wry, "How kind of you to offer."
Harold bows and offers a hand to Guinevere.
Dirk offers his arm to Melisande and heads towards the bar with her.
Celeste offers her hand to Frank and smiles broadly.
From the palace Walter tromps out. Even in sandals his steps are not light. Though maybe the music helps drown out the heavy steps.
Raphaela seems to be pleased with the response, then tries to slink away unnoticed for a breath before continuing the mingling. A pan offers her a silver goblet of spiced red wine and she nods gratefully.
Rae comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Rae has arrived.
Frank takes Celeste by the hand and leads her to the dance floor. He nods to Dirk in passing. "Good Eve." When arrives at the dance floor he squares up with Celeste.
Melisande gives her hand to Dirk, but she holds his arm to prevent the movement. She quirks her dark head to a passing servant. "So much easier," the Lady murmurs. "Now, tell me more. Privately, perhaps?" She sends a meaningful glance to a sequestered corner away from the festivities, but still in plain view.
Walter snatches the biggest thing of alcohol he can find from a passing wood nymph and blazes a trail to a seat.
Celeste follows Frank and places her hand in his and her hand on his shoulder blade, lifting an eyebrow as she seems to utter some soft inquiry.
Guinevere pushes back the hood of her cape and offers a curtsey to Harold before taking his hand. She whispers briefly to him.
With one hand placed upon Chrys's shoulder and the other resting on the grip the man has over the ivory rod that supports a masterpiece of a mask Bianca is deftly maneuvered onto the mossy dance floor. She seems perhaps a trifle taller than usual, though the height of her footwear does not impede her impeccable balance.
Dirk follows Melisande's lead and grabs a drink as he waves to his brother. He gives Melisande a nod and follows her to a more private place of her choosing.
A few servants slide out from a servant’s entrance carrying a large blank canvas and a few trays of mixed paints. Moving along the side of the party until they find Kincaid at the back of the gardens railing where they set up his tools for capturing tonight’s event.
Rae arrives with a slightly stalking walk, and the demeanor of someone that is looking for someone else. There is a slight scrunching of her nose, and she is quick to grab for a glass of alcohol.
Frank smiles and says something softly to Celeste as he begins to dance to the music. He steps with with her and sends her into a spin and back into him.
A hand is placed upon Guinevere's hip, as the music picks up Harold leads her onto the floor turning about the mossy dance floor, his steps simple.
Chrys leads well, perfectly willing to poke some eyes out with his mask if need be. Dancing can be a very strategic thing. New guests distract the blond man briefly, but he returns his attention to Bianca readily.
Leon leads Oriana onto the dance floor, one arm politely around her waist and one holding her hand. He can dance, but he gives her the chance to show she can too.
The vines of her costume trail after her as Melisande cuts through the dance floor on her way to a niche in the nearby grove that has a cushioned bench near a statue of kiss on the other side. Her eyes behind the simple black mask blaze blue with intent Dirk following her.
Moss of the dance floor is tricky and forces dance to be lighter and more bouncy than waxed floors of the ball rooms, but moss does not wear under feet and its plain cozy. Curtsey of Artemis Feldane, some offer helpfully.
Celeste follows Frank's lead in clean, confident motions, spinning with carefully gauged flourish before returning to him and smiling broadly.
Guinevere rests her free hand upon Harold's shoulder, inhaling deeply as she steels herself for formal dancing. Doing her best to follow the Knight's lead, she takes too many steps here and too few there, but manages not to step on his toes -too- often. She blushes through most of it, murmuring apologies every time her foot comes into contact with his.
Celeste laughs for some reason, sweeping her skirts carefully as she dances, she just shakes her head at Frank.
Each time Chrys's mask threatens to impale a shining orb of a passing dancer, Bianca adjusts the angle just so - her hand resting leisurely over the grip her partner has on the ivory handle. She follows his lead with flawless rhythm, waxen features drawn into a semblance of unblinking joy.
Frank leads Celeste around the floor with surprising grace. Every now and then he sends her into a spin allowing her a chance to show off. When she spins back to him he sends her into a dip before bringing her back on her feet.
Raphaela circles and twines around non dancing guests, greeting and nodding and smiling as she walks across the garden, very slow, as it is.
If Sir Harold minds his toes being stepped on, he doesn’t show it - in fact at the murmured apologies his head shakes negatively, then again he whispers to the small blond woman.
Celeste issues a soft sound of startlement followed by a burst of rich alto laughter as she's dipped, one hand latched onto his shoulder as he brings her back up.
Rae glances to the dance floor, as she makes her way deeper into the crowd. She sips at her drink, and sometimes her gaze lingers on a person or a statue.
Sometimes, statue moves.
Celeste laughs again and rolls her eyes playfully in mock exasperation.
Leon squeaks in nervous enjoyment when the statue moves while he is too close to it, but mostly lets his partner play her part and keeps quiet.
Oriana floats practically as she steps out on the dance floor. She watches her partner as he dances and tries to match his movements. Thought for a moment as Leon squeaks she tries not to laugh.
Walter keeps snatching new drink glasses when his has become empty. It seems he's here just to soak up the free booze.
Kincaid tosses off his green tinted glasses and with the help of a shot begins to carve long paint strokes along his canvas.
Vivrie comes here from the direction of the Main Courtyard - Royal Palace.
Vivrie has arrived.
Raphaela pauses near Walter and smiles, greeting the grumpy man.
Raphaela forms a cluster with Walter.
Whatever Harold says causes Guinevere to smile very warmly at him, her face positively alighting. Confidence now emanates from the youthful Lyonne woman, although she continues to blush a bit anytime she crushes his poor toes. However, though instances grow fewer and further between as her eyes remain locked to his.
The orchestra ends the waltz and shifts to another lively tune.
Celeste curtsies, "Thank you, enjoy your evening." she slips away from the dance floor and makes her way towards Walter.
Celeste leaves her current cluster.
Leon's cloak betrays him once more, but this time it catches on something Chrys is wearing just as Leon is bowing to Oriana at the end of the dance. It brings him up short.
As the waltz ends Harold offers a polite bow, then offers his arm to lead Guinevere from the floor. "You are light on your feet Lady Guinevere, your natural grace a joy to behold."
Chrys dances well, if one doesn't count the constant corrections of movement he's engaged in. Eventually, it must be assumed that Bianca is actually leading in some form or manner.
Vivrie joins the party already in progress, stepping out into the gardens with lifted brows, stunned by the transformation. A slow, smile curves her lips as she moves deeper into the crowd, smiling and nodding to those she knows, speaking politely as she passes till she can see better who is in attendance. She brushes her hands over the new formal and steps carefully, making her way toward the fringe of the crowd gathered around the dance floor.
Indeed, there is much on Chrys's costume to catch on, namely little gems. The man pauses his dance as Leon's cape snags and is drawn into the dance with Bianca. "Ah, excuse me, sir..."
Frank goes to greet other party guests. After a period of time he slips out.
Guinevere walks slowly and with great care. Perhaps it is the unsual flooring or perhaps she is simply unused to wearing heels. She holds Harold's arm just a bit too tightly, as though steadying herself. With a dip of her head she replies in her native tongue of Lyonne. "You are a far better dancer than you led me to believe, Grand Master." Quirking her lips into a smirk, she adds playfully, "And it is a joy to be held."
Bianca peals away from Chrys to execute a fathomless theatrical courtesy. Her smile to Leon is in equal parts welcoming and benign, "My Lord," She greets as Leon's cloak snags Chrys's wardrobe.
People not dancing, and people not scattering to explore the hidden corners of the garden are mostly preoccupied with two things. Drinking extremely good alcohols or commenting on fashion.
Leon turns and bows. "Terribly sorry, old chap!" His face is a mask of polite horror.
Melisande settles her empty glass upon the bench for a servant to clear and places her fingertips lightly upon the arm Dirk has just proffered. "I have been known to dance on occasion. Lead the way?"
Celeste joins Walter.
Leon leaves his current cluster.
Chrys's reaction to Leon's clothing's love for his, in a perfectly platonic and accidental way, of course, is very benign. He smiles politely, taking his hand off his dance partner to attempt to part the fabrics. "It's alright, I'm sure it'll... are you fond of this cape, sir? It smells lovely."
Dirk walks Melisande to the dance floor and smiles "I hope I live up to your skills and talents." He offers her his arms and readies himself for dancing.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Leon says, "Thank you. It's made with real roses on attired silk. It won't last, but I'm fond of it in the moment."
Raphaela joins Celeste.
Raphaela turns to nearly bump into Celeste!
Bianca smiles to the two lords, intoning, "Nothing worth being fond of ever lasts, lord Leon."
Chrys smiles pleasantly. "It now has a hole in it. There you go." He sets Leon's cloak free.
Harold leads Guinevere from the floor "Well I try not to look like too much of an oaf at formal balls, to be honest a list field is by far more to my taste" he laughs as they arrive at some seats.
Seeing Bianca, Vivrie begins to maneuver her way toward her friend, eyes shifting to follow Celeste as she moves through the crowd, she smiles seeing Walter and the pretty lady he is speaking with. Her path already determined, Vivrie moves toward Bianca, skirting the dance floor.
"As do I," Melisande offers with a lift of one dark eyebrow across the space between her and Dirk, before she gives herself over to his arms and the dance. "If you are heavy of foot, it might be best to let me lead," she offers with a low, smiling sarcasm.
Guinevere chuckles gently, the sound not nearly as light, airy, or delicate as the other women attending the ball. Just as they arrive at the seats, her stomach growls. Loudly. It seems her high cheeks are destined to remain a deep rouge for the entire night. "My sincerest apologies, Grand Master." Her eyes drop from his again, then move over in the hopes of spotting a server carrying food. Or liquor.
Kincaid works diligently on capturing the masked revelers at the ball. Paint drops and smears begin to mark his clothes, hand, and face; all of which is unnoticed by the artist. Only stopping from time to time to wet his throat with whatever is in that flask of his.
Leon tells Chrys, "Thank you, I think." He has the grace to bow away, and the sense to retreat.
Bianca sheds a 'look' at Chrys - waxen features strident yet unreadable. The crescent of her thumb dabs the live sap of the exotic flower entwining her throat and bending she mends the tear her companion's jewels bequeathed upon Leon's cloak. The patch shines jewel like.
Chrys keeps his smile for Leon as the man turns away, and looks back to Bianca with that same smile.
Leon is caught by Bianca, and so gets to be mended as he retreats. His glittering, flashing clothes now match the shine on his cloak.
Celeste laughs at something said and flashes Walter a crooked grin.
Nearby, Caine's smile is a thing unaltered. "I knew that would happen with the way they attached these gems."
A tree leans in to offer Guinevere a fruit of canapes. Nature is sensitive to hints. Also, a servant is hidden in a tree.
Leon retreats a surprisingly long way, right to the stairs.
Leon walks towards the way down.
Leon has left.
Stepping up beside Bianca and her companion Vivrie gives Chrys a warm smile and touches Bianca on the shoulder lightly, leaning to try to catch her eye. "Bianca, how wonderful to see you. My but you do look lovely! What a glorious dress." she smiles brightly, admiring the gown Bianca wears.
Benedict has arrived.
Beatrice has arrived.
Benedict arrives with his wife, thus making the party taller on average.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Raphaela peels off Walter and Celeste and pads towards the newly arrived couple. Party is well off and people are already tipsy, happy, dancing and gossiping. The pair though, certainly gets noticed. Raphaela pauses before them and bows in welcome.
Benedict bows his head to Raphaela, easily.
Benedict forms a cluster with Beatrice.
Raphaela joins Benedict.
Bianca is poised alongside Chrys on the edge of the dance floor - claret gown a radiant splotch of contrast to the ivory and saffron hues of Chrys's floral attire. It seems she is about to reply to her companion, but is distracted first by the gentle weight of Vivrie's hand and then the arrival of the royal couple.
Harold blinks in surprise at the tree offering up their fruit to Guinevere. "Astounding, but I think I prefer picking my own apple" he offers to Guinevere. Seeing the King and Duchess he turns.
Oriana is left in the middle of the dance floor alone, and the red, gold, and multicolored flowers that adorn her dress, and head-wreathe shimmer a moment, noticing the King she smiles. "Well well, uncle." she says in a soft voice to no one in particular.
Beatrice enters on Benedict's arm, the usual retinue of guards and attendants around/behind them. She, too, dips her head to Raphaela, also giving nods to those in the crowd likely to receive them, when they catch her eye.
Celeste issues another laugh at something Walter says and finally gets herself a tall flute of something bubbly before glancing about the room, noting the king and his chancellor, already on her feet she curtsies should they cross nearby otherwise her attention slides back to Walter.
Chrys replaces his hand on Bianca just as Vivrie steps up to them. The blond man smiles warmly, inclining his head and letting the ladies chat. He glances to the entry of the King, then back to Vivrie, still smiling.
Dirk is dancing with Melisande following her lead and hasn't quite noticed the arrival yet.
Rae is at the edges of the gathering, people watching. There is a cross between a smile and a frown on her lips, and a drink in her hand.
Kincaid takes a break from the large canvas painting. Pulling out a candy bar from his vest and taking a seat on the balcony's railing.
Guinevere gives a start when a tree offers her food, laughing coarsely once she realizes there is a person within. "Thank ye," she replies in Thary, her accent straight from the slums of New Lyonesse. To Harold, she speaks again in her native tongue. "A thousand words of praise would do little justice to the gratitude which I feel for you at this moment, your lordship." Of course, once the King and Queen arrive, she looks over and immediately curtsies as deeply as though she were merely a servant.
Royal pair is noticed and as the baroness leads them further in, circles of curtseys and bows emerge.
Bianca laughs an uncharacteristic trill that boarders dangerously on a giggle. Leaning to greet Vivrie with a fleeting peck upon the taller woman's cheek, she does not sever contact with her flamboyantly clad escort.
The tune fades, orchestra gets up and bows as one, and when it picks up again it's a more solemn, but still sparkly tune, offering the dancers an easier pace for rest.
Vivrie follows Bianca's gaze and drops into a slow curtsey, inclining her head to the King and Duchess, respectfully. As Bianca laughs she turns her attention back to her friend in time to receive the greeting. She returns it in kind and smiles warmly at Chrys, though she does wonder who he is and where her brother might be, furrowing her brows to glance around.
Benedict spots someone he knows and has to greet in the crowd, and steps aside to nod to them, losing his Baroness for the moment.
Benedict leaves his current cluster.
Beatrice stays, for the moment, with Raphaela.
Celeste 's eyebrows lift and she murmurs something to Walter before adopting a demure look and fluttering her lashes comically.
Harold offers a polite bow to the royal couple
Bianca's curtsey to the Royal couple is delivered slightly off beat and when she looks to Chrys, gilt brows steeple in wanton disappointment.
Rae finishes what remains in her glass, and trades it out for one that is far more full. She also snags a small piece of food to pop into her mouth.
Celeste chuckles and slips close to give Walter a kiss on the cheek before straitening and lifting her glass to her lips.
Chrys laughs at something Bianca says, and reaches to briefly squeeze her hand. "I'll bring this by later," he promises, giving Vivrie a wink before stepping off the dance floor.
Caine leaves his current cluster.
Caine has departed.
"No, keep it," Bianca tell the departing pillar of Chrys's back. His departure leaves her a trifle off balance, though she is swift to claim the crook of Vivrie's elbow.
Vivrie furrows her brows softly speaking to Bianca as she takes her arm. "I certainly hope I did not frighten him away...should I apologize?" she asks, turning to the young woman beside her, concern furrowing her brows.
The glittery mask waves cheerfully above him; Chrys heard. He's making his way toward the King now.
Benedict forms a cluster with Caine.
Melisande laughs at something Dirk has said, truly laughs. "No doubt you are right, Cousin mine." She extracts herself from his arms shortly thereafter, "My gratitude for the dance." A small curtsey is swept in his direction. "In any event, I guess we shall see."
Beatrice has spotted Rae, and invites her over with a visible gesture.
Guinevere slowly rises, then leans in toward Harold and softly asks, "Would it be appropriate to approach His Majesty personally to thank him for the invitation?"
Celeste scans he room and her gaze lingers briefly on Chrys as Vivrie and Bianca seem a bit puzzled, her slate gaze darting back and forth as if she's trying to figure out what she missed while she was distracted. Though, distraction claims her again promptly at something Walter says. She smiles and takes his arm.
Walter crooks an arm for Celeste to take and then begins a languid stroll through the fantasy on the rooftops.
Chrys hovers politely, even if Benedict is alone for the moment, and bows low, murmuring something before straightening and turning to move off. Important men should not be delayed by worms, it seems.
Dirk looks at the King and his company.
Harold rises and looks over the situation "I would wait until his Magesty get's to you M'lady...perhaps you might enjoy some wine in the mean time?" he looks for the tree with wine glasses, but settles for a passing Pan. Deftly he plucks two glasses offering one to Guinevere and nodding his thanks to the servent.
Bianca laughs a stifled trill into Vivrie's shoulder.
Caine leaves his current cluster.
Kincaid munches on his candy bar and wipes his brow as tired eyes watch over the crowds. The brow wipe leaves a paint smear that only adds to different colored smears, the artist is beginning to look more like a brightly painted soldier.
Benedict strokes his chin, thoughtfully. That drags a finger across his lower lip.
Gossipers do note how Baroness does not go near smudged artist. Gossip. Gossip. Oooh, nice dress.
Caine walks towards the way down.
Caine has left.
Celeste frowns and her attention focuses on Rae and then relaxes, but then her attention settles on Chrys as she murmurs to alter, watching Chrys disappear.
Raphaela tilts from the company of Beatrice, and greets a few more people, managing to claim another goblet on the way.
Celeste mutters to Walter, "I... fellow, do you?... ot..."
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Guinevere gratefully accepts the wine, looking at it as though she wishes it were something much, much stronger. "Yes. Of course." Spotting Celeste, her smile falters slightly and she hides it by taking an almost ridiculously dainty sip from her glass. Apparently, she has been practicing. "Are you alright, Sir Harold?"
Vivrie grins at Bianca turning this way and that to show off her new gown, laughing softly with her friend.
Rae catches the gesture given by Beatrice, and begins to wander that way, dipping her head slightly in greeting once she arrives at the pregnant woman's side.
Rae forms a cluster with Beatrice.
Melisande leaves her current cluster.
Celeste pauses and gives Walter a wry look.
Melisande cocks her head off in an unknown direction before turning back to Dirk. "If you'll excuse me?" She gives no other indication, only turns and heads off in to the hedges.
Bianca subdues her joy only to settle waxen features into a radiant smile that showcases a row of pearlescent teeth and parts her mouth wide enough apart to reveal the presence of rarely seen dimples. Squeezing Vivrie's arm Bianca directs their step in unison towards the nearest server of mulled wine.
Dirk smiles and nods "By all means. Be safe and don't fall."
Mind you, there is no reason to powder noses behind trees and hedges, entrance to toilets is hidden from view with hedge, a statue of cherub before man's door and that of Psyche before women's door.
Benedict picks himself up a glass of wine, by ordering a Bacchan with several to follow him.
Guinevere forms a cluster with Harold.
Benedict makes his way towards Dirk, and takes a drink to offer it over.
Benedict forms a cluster with Dirk.
The Grand Master sips his wine, then lifts it to admire color and clarity, "One must give credit where Credit is due Lady Guinevere, this Sun Court knows how to host a party." he takes another sip of the wine clearly approving.
Vivrie blushes and beams a big smile at Bianca, moving with her toward the server with the mulled wine. She takes a glass and smiles talking with Bianca quietly, laughing and sipping the wine.
Dirk watches Benedict come towards him and straightens up fast. He runs his fingers through his hair and make sure his shirt is tucked in. "Your Majesty?" His voice climbs in pitch in surprise and questioning curiosity.
Oriana mingles for a moment between the groups of people, the young Princess looking around and notices Benedict. "Uncle!" she calls, figuring that might get his attention more than your majesty.
Raphaela, the hostess has a warm smile as she deals with wave after wave of colorfully dressed guests. Orchestra pauses the music to get refreshed and dance floor is left emptied for entertainers to claim again. Drummers seat themselves on the floor beneath the orchestra terrace and as they start to pick up a rhythm flamethrowers and jugglers dance in to perform, and possibly singe brows of the first row of spectators.
Guinevere nods, looking embarrassed for a moment before speaking again. As her gaze follows Benedict, she spots the man's destination and cannot help but groan softly and murmur to Harold.
Dirk takes the wine that Benedict offers him and nods as he responds to the King. The wine gets drained fast after his response.
Benedict takes his own glass, so that he can match Dirk, although he drinks at a more sedate pace.
Benedict steps away from Dirk, still with his wine in hand.
With candy bar devoured Kincaid returns to working on the painting of the Ball. One servant passes by and looks horrified by the art work. Perhaps the man has lost his gift.
Benedict leaves his current cluster.
Rae seems to be demonstrating some sort of dance hold to Beatrice, a long armed one indeed.
Dirk watches Benedict.
Guinevere blinks and looks over to Harold in confusion, then laughs again before replying. She takes another sip, then sets the glass down to grab a canape from her plate upon the table. Although she takes a bite as delicately as she can manage, but still ends up with cream all about both corners of her mouth.
Benedict is soon nothing but a crowned head in the crowd, and those watching, Dirk among them, get to see him make his way to the edges of the crowd and then away.
Benedict walks towards the way down.
Benedict has left.
Celeste continues to slowly pace along the crowd with Walter, her hand on the crook of his arm
Kincaid steps back from his painting and drops the paint brush. Turning the still wet painting around to face the nearby crowd, he departs.
Kincaid walks towards the way down.
Kincaid has left.
Walter pats Celeste's hand and prepares to make an escape.
Beatrice has clasped Rae's hands in greeting and squeezes them again, now.
Celeste frowns gently in disappointment before offering Walter a smile and releasing his arm.
Vivrie furrows her brows taking Bianca's hand shaking her head as she speaks quietly to the petite beauty. She glances about drawing her aside to talk in earnest to her friend, trying to make her smile return.
Walter walks towards the way down.
Walter has left.
Raphaela is managing to hide from the crowd briefly. Kincaid's suspicious and not planned painting is discretely removed.
Celeste smiles wryly as Walter departs and looks chagrined as her gaze sweeps the room.
Dirk is there again being a cluster of one. He doesn't feel so bad about it though.
Celeste spies Bianca and Vivrie and armed with a refreshed glass, makes her way towards the ladies.
Guinevere looks at Harold as though he was crazy, but does as she is told. Setting the treat down, she again lifts the wineglass, headless of the cream on her mouth. Closing her eyes, she brings the decanter to her lips and takes a small sip. Holding the liquid in her mouth, she inhales deeply. This attempt at sampling like a pro ends with her coughing loudly as the drink goes down her windpipe, spilling wine upon the flora and fauna beneath her feet.
Acrobats finish their spectacular intermission and the orchestra returns with a Celtic sounding dance tune. A few younger posh noblemen look upset because they can't spot Baroness Sorgo to steal for a dance.
Harold pats Guinevere's back, then when her spell of coughing is do lifts his own glass. He swirls the ruby liquid in his hand admiring the color, he lowers the glass, his nostrils flare as he breathes in the wines delicate aroma, then closes his eyes and takes a small sip.
Bianca murmurs to Vivrie while she ponders the depths of her wineglass. The slender pillar of her neck cranes birdlike to trace Walter's retreat, and with a tempered quip to her companion, she smiles in greeting to the Lady Proxy.
Dirk heads for the bar to drink rum...
Harold leans close to Guinevere the glass in his hand, for the moment forgotten.
Raphaela finds her way towards Guinevere and the Gentleman. She inclines her head in greeting, golden leaves and flowers on her tiara tittering "It is such a pleasure to see you here, m'lady." she offers to Guinevere, and then nod to Harold "M'lord."
Melisande walks towards the way down.
Melisande has left.
Dirk turns around and looks at the crowd.
Harold takes the rose from his doublet and offers it to Raphaela "The Highland rose M'lady, please accept this small token and our thanks for your Hospitality."
Raphaela smiles and accepts it with a small curtsey, although roman styled outfits do not allow for much flourish in one "Well, I am glad you decided to come, thank you. I hope you're enjoying yourselves?"
Harold inclines his head to Raphaela "Good food, Good wine, pleasant company, how could I not be enjoying myself." he offers a polite bow to Raphaela.
Dirk smiles and pushes off the bar. He takes a large glass of rum with him and smirks as he heads over in Guin's general direction.
Vivrie converses with Celeste and Bianca, her head tilted softly as she listens.
Nearby, Celeste murmurs softly, "There are a number of methods. Tainted can sense one another. My source successfully pointed out others I already knew were tainted, so I'm certain they were not mistaken." She pauses and looks sheepish, "Sorry. It seems I can never set aside work."
Raphaela smiles and nods "Well, have a good night, then." she ventures further.
Dirk finally makes his way towards Guin and when he gets there he says "Hello Guin long time no see?"
Eric comes here from the direction of the Fourth Floor - Royal Palace.
Eric has arrived.
Nisha comes here from the direction of the Fourth Floor - Royal Palace.
Nisha has arrived.
Beatrice nods her head to Rae in their quiet, shared conversation.
Guinevere dips her head to Dirk, standing exceptionally close to Harold. Perhaps inappropriately so. "Yep, a long time, m'lord. How've ye been?"
Never one to arrive alone at such engagements as these, Eric enters the party with a woman on his crooked arm. His smile is arrogant, his posture is noble and straight, and his eyes might indicate he were looking over some parcel of land he owns but rarely gets to enjoy. "Welcome to the Sun Court's Summer Ball, Nisha," he says to the woman on his arm.
Dirk nods "Pretty good, not been stabbed lately, perhaps you could change that? And I have joined the army, enlisted in the Defenders of Kolvir under Knight-Captain Feldane."
Raphaela notices the new arrival and mingles her way through "Your highness, stealing my only duty here tonight...How horrible." she smiles and bows slightly "Welcome to the Summer Eve Ball."
Beatrice's conversation with Rae pauses momentarily as she overhears the snatch of conversation from Dirk, mentioning the Defenders. She pauses to turn and give him a nod at that.
Oriana mills around the party, sort of in a daze. Her steps are light and she seems perhaps a bit distant in her movements, performing singularly in the middle of the floor- quiet a sight to see in her multicolored-flowers dress, and her flower wreathe.
Nisha's hand is settled easily on Eric's crooked arm, and the foreign woman is full of smiles. "Lovely," she says, her Thari accented with the accent of Tanus. Raphaela, even, gets a smile.
"And here I worried you would get my title wrong, Baroness. I should have known what an impeccable hostess you would be." There is some sarcasm in Eric's voice, but it's well hidden in friendly tones. "Nisha, I present to you the Baroness de Sorgo. Raphaela, the Lady Nisha."
Harold stands near to Guinevere, as Dirk seems her friend he busies himself with another taste of wine.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster and forms a cluster with Eric instead.
Nisha joins Eric.
Raphaela smiles and nods with a smile to Nisha "A pleasure to have you here, I hope you'll enjoy yourselves."
Nisha presses her hands together, and bows slightly over them. "Namaste," she offers to Raphaela, still smiling.
Guinevere smiles wolfishly. "Only if ye're fool enough ta try ta kiss me again." She motions toward Harold. "Besides me own blades, me escort's got a migh'y big sword."
Nearby, Vivrie grins and glances to Bianca then to Celeste with a soft shrug. "With one another mostly, though I've not been here very long."
Dirk looks at Guin as she mentions Harold's big sword and shakes his head as his mouth opens and closes with a chuckle instead of a totally inappropriate remark. "If you says so." is emitted after a minute of struggling for control.
Rae takes a step back from Beatrice, then bows somewhat. "I should take my leave," she says, as she rises
Harold glances at the mention of his /big/ sword, perhaps thinking it an avergae sized sword at best "Why Lady Guinevere, I honestly thought you paid no notice to my weapon" he smiles and sips his wine. Then nods to Dirk "Are you having a good time tonight solider?"
Dirk nods "Indeed I am. I usually do at these gatherings. How are you doing?" He smiles at Guin as he chats up Harold.
Guinevere seems oblivious to the running gag at the expense of her words. Looking up at Harold in confusion, she replies, "Ye're me escort. Ye'd -better- have a big'un." She then grabs the canape again and takes another big bite, cream once more getting more on her mouth than within. Dainty, the new noblewoman is not.
Raphaela inclines her head at Eric and his lady with an opening gesture offering them the magic garden to enjoy and departs to the next late guests.
Beatrice inclines her head to Rae and says, "As should I, indeed. Let us walk down together." She cants a nod here and there at those with whom she did not speak, particularly, then turns to the exist, her attendants and guards in her wake.
Celeste stands with Vivrie and Bianca still, sipping bubbly and murmuring softly to the ladies.
Eric moves Nisha further into the party. One might note the utter lack of attention given to the Chancellor, compared to the brief nod given to Rae. He leans in to his companion a touch to murmur as they walk.
Dirk looks at Guin, "Chin dearest love of my soon to be ended life."
Beatrice may be somewhat oblivious to the arrival of Eric, or at least, he was not among those to receive a nod.
Rae nods in agreement to Beatrice, and turns to walk with the woman. Eric's brief nod is returned, though the observant might notice a curl of lips involved that isn't the type that could be called 'friendly'.
Beatrice walks towards the way down.
Beatrice leaves her current cluster.
Beatrice has left.
Rae walks towards the way down.
Rae has left.
You stand upon a broad expanse of the palace roof set aside for a quiet garden. With the spectacular view of the city, the countryside and the surrounding battlements, one can meander amongst the potted plants and trees without worry of interruption or interference from the common populace. Fragrant bushes carefully tended into topiaries delight the eyes, flowers and herbs grant a tantalizing treat to one's nose. There is even a hedge maze with blooming bushes in season where one might sit upon benches in hidden corners or contemplate works of art that can be discovered and enjoyed.
[Setting & Views -- by Raphaela at Sun Jun 13 12:58:57 2010]
THE NIGHT IS HERE! And the Rooftop Gardens are transformed!
The spectacular view and surrounding architecture are framed with a new cloak this fair summer evening. The breeze is soft and the stars are bright, with the full moon rising above the lights of the city. The scents twine into an intoxicating symphony as the river of guests trickles from the palace. To enter the Gardens one must pass through the large arches of massive wooden mirror frames and lazy flutters of transparent fabrics glimmering with gold.
Within the mirror is an enchanted lost garden beyond time of which many have dreamed but rare few have seen. After a few playful and disorienting turns through a labyrinth of hedges and blooming roses, the view suddenly booms out to the centre of the happening. The staff dressed as delightfully pagan inhabitants of the forests roam the peripheries of the large circular dance floor where massive slabs of black and white stone are covered with thick, soft moss. Above it, among the branches of blooming trees and dreamy silken sheets float round lanterns of soft glowing colors in various sizes. A small orchestra is set to one side of the dance floor, on what seems to be a broken piece of ancient marble terrace half drowned in the green embrace of nature. From it, romantically decayed pillars are set to frame the circular dancing area, separating it loosely from the space where foods, drinks and chatter can be found.
Beyond that, the park peels off into several more intimately lit, dreamy scenes - groves and statues arranged to entice guests into short walks, star gazing or a private concert in charming spots where lone musicians dressed up as forest creatures pluck a harp or a lyre. Here and there a statue or a tree moves and a surprised guest can see that there is living art set out through nature as well as its more usual, unmoving counterpart. Acrobats and dancers, musicians and others are all melted up into a magnificent, breathing piece of art. Some trees are set with heavy, offering fruits made out of ingeniously arranged food and drinks. Throughout the garden one can find gorgeous arrangements of rare roses, and also poetry and art scattered into hidden corners like Easter eggs.
All in all, the Rooftop Garden is full of delightful sensations and surprises to explore, and it appears to have been there, as it is, from the beginning of time, celebrating the treasures of nature and life.
Caine <> comes here from the direction of the Azure Solar - Royal Palace.
Caine <> arrived.
Chrys arrives with Bianca at one arm and a mask in the other, after showing invitations and the like and following the prompts and other guests up to the gardens. The mask he holds is more of a work of art than his costume, and catches the light as he waves it before his face, when he's not looking about with intense interest. "They really have outdone themselves," he says, his voice cultured in the way of choir singers.
"Baroness de Sorgo has certainly outdone herself. I was privy to some of her efforts and must admit I am awestruck," Bianca replies, moving alongside her companion as her reedy neck spins left and right, bright eyes usurping the lavish surroundings and widening with ever growing wonder. Her gown is a stark contrast to the delicate white and saffron attire of the man whose arm she claims - succeeding only in making both costumes all the more striking.
Dirk comes here from the direction of the Third Floor Rear - Royal Palace.
Dirk has arrived.
"Yes, the fashion gossipers will have a job distracting themselves from the setting, though you do rather make it easy for them, looking so lovely." Chrys stops gawking at the gardens to give Bianca a grin and his mask a light twirl between the fingers of his right hand.
Guests are trickling through in awe, and hostess waits, bowing to them lightly in welcome and greeting as the procession continues.
Bianca delves a playful bob of a courtesy to Chrys, her smile fleeting though no less appreciative. Twin brows knit in semblance of concern as she reaches a hand of fanned thin fingers to touch the hilt of the mask he carries, "It isn't too heavy, is it?"
Dirk is detained by staff at entry. NO shoes allowed.
Dirk takes off his shoes then.
Chrys looks to Bianca and shakes his head. "Not so much. A drink would be heavier, I think, though that is a correctable problem. Where would you like to go first? I admit to being a little lost in all the color at the moment."
Sandals of various sizes and togas (for people who dare to come in black) are provided at entrance... then of course, they are not violent at it.
Chrys somehow got in with boots on. He's that good. Clearly, staff will have to chase that man down with the rules sometime.
Dirk smiles and blows the maid a little kiss "Thank you dear." He wanders around looking quite overwhelmed.
Melisande enters from Third Floor Rear.
Melisande has arrived.
Clearly, staff neglects to chase that Chrys down for wearing boots. Raphaela, however approaches through her mingling "Greetings, welcome to the Summer Eve Ball, m'lady, m'lord." she looks at Bianca "You look STUNNING."
Oriana comes here from the direction of the North Wing - Royal Palace.
Oriana has arrived.
"We do not /have/ to go anywhere in particular, but meander aimlessly until the fancy strikes us to pause a while," Bianca suggests to Chrys, lending the man's sleeve a gentle tug. Raphaela's approach is greeted with a smile - her claret gown clearly having distracted the vigilant attendants from Chrys's footwear, "Baroness! Oh but this is splendid! I think I might never go home!"
"Meandering is quite the style, I think," Chrys mutters, before greeting Raphaela with a cordial bow, done while keeping his arm in place for Bianca. "Baroness," he says, formally, glancing between the women as they exchange greetings and dress comments. The mask he holds glitters with the idle movement he keeps up with it; the blond man must like the shiny.
After running the gambit of the labyrinthine entrance, the flower formerly known as Melisande arrives upon the scene, her masked eyes taking a lazy glance over the decor and guests.
Raphaela smiles softly and looks around "It turned out well, didn't it. Please enjoy yourself." she looks at the gentleman "Mind you, do not ruin the moss with your boots m'lord. DO enjoy yourself, there is plenty to explore." her golden bracelets sparkle as she gestures, and then she inclines her head with a smile and heads to the next group.
Dirk is wandering around listening to Raphaela and others speak.
Adjusting the flower wreath in her hair, Oriana strolls in, a riot of color, gold, blue, red and white flowers adorn her dress and hair, native flowers from her homeland perhaps for they were flowers that themselves contained multicolor on the petals.
Bianca's cerulean blues linger upon the stately pillar of Raphaela's back as the woman departs. She leans a hair's breadth closer to her companion (Chrys), whispering a wispy trill into the shell of the man's ear.
While guests are starting to pour in, they still seem to be shy and avoid the large dance floor. Orchestra with classic and quite a few unorthodox instruments play lightly still, staff dressed as pagan creatures circulating strong, spiced wine.
Melisande, it so happens, is in the next group to approach Raphaela. The young woman/flower dips her head low, and carefully! Wouldn't want to lose the mask, "My Lady. A lovely enchantment, to be sure. My gratitude for providing such diversion."
"I'll be sure to step lightly," Chrys promises. Once the Baroness has moved on, he gives Bianca a light grimace and leans to take in her whisper. Whatever is said invokes a loud laugh, a sound that runs the scales; the man must be a singer as well as a fashion faux pas. He murmurs back, looking pleased.
Raphaela wears no mask, just more make up than usual, her pale eyes startling in their nests of kohl as she smiles at Melisande "It is a pleasure to be of use to Princess Flora as it is, I am glad you approve, m'lady, and I do hope the Garden provides you with as much joy as your dress does to one who beholds it."
Bianca stifles a frothing laugh that manifests in a throaty chortle, the fingers of her dully manicured hand tracing the elaborate embellishment on Chrys's sleeve. She begins to move even as she whispers, diligently claiming a flute of something sparkling from a passing server. This she proffers to her companion in exchange of her hand, prior to claiming a drink of her own.
Chrys takes the drink, glancing to the entryway as more guests stream in. His own mask wafts in one hand, and with a drink in the other, the blond man seems ready for the festivities. He comments low, watching Melisande a moment before his blue gaze moves on.
Dirk hears Bianca's laugh and smiles. He finds a drink and claims it to be his.
The sprawling guests linger about drinking, mingling and clustering. Also, commenting on the fashion pearls that already showed up, and some not so lucky as to be pearls of the floral theme.
Sudden drop in conversation is caused by band starting up a louder, livelier tune. Seems the entertainment is due.
Melisande lowers her head once more to Raphaela, completely obscuring her features with the help of moonlight and mask. Over the music, she extends an introduction, "You are too kind. I would know the name of such a useful helper, if you would provide it? I, in turn, am Melisande, daughter of Prince Julian."
Leon brings a flower-wound staff up with him, tapping his way into the roof gardens where he pauses and looks around, before making his way towards a cluster of people of about his age.
Nobility and honored guests of many a golden circle land start to clutter around the pillars, overlooking the dance floor. Bare footed female dancers in light tunics and with bangles chiming on their ankles and arms stream in from one side, holding hands and twirling the serpent they created around the circle of moss.
Raphaela smiles at Melisande "Raphaela de Sorgo, a pleasure to meet you."
Dirk watches the dancers and smiles as he drinks in a cluster of one.
Bianca takes the liberty to clang her flute with a melodic chime against Chrys's, her waxen features lit with an artificial blush from the pink pollen of the flower worn at her neck.
Leon ooohs at the serpent of moss, and goes forward to see it more closely. He is short.
Chrys grins, lifting his glass in salute to Bianca even as the chime of the crystal sounds. As the girls begin dancing on the dance floor, he watches, commenting low and sipping his drink.
Raphaela is a hostess, but instead of staying put and waiting for guests to approach her she mingles around and greets the guests that lurk for her attention. Currently she is talking to Melisande, but politely nods to the guests that pass by, greeting.
Leon finds himself next to Oriana, so that his rose-petal cloak brushes her and he stops to mutter an apology.
Leon forms a cluster with Oriana.
Melisande allows a smile to drift across her lips, "A pleasure, milady de Sorgo. I'll keep you no longer, for I've a fondness for dancing girls." A blue-eyed wink, barely seen in the moonlight and the obscurity of the mask follows, and Melisande moves on.
The chimes set a hypnotic rhythm as the line of the dancers coils unto itself and than out again, a swirl of tunics, limbs and song that rises up sounding exotic yet familiar.
Raphaela chuckles and inclines her head to Melisande as her eyes survey the gathering, noting who is who, with whom, wearing what... 'Welcome, please enjoy yourself. ‘to this noble or that... staff doing what they are supposed to do.... She smiles at the dancers occupying the dance floor, like someone who knows something others don't.
Dirk is standing aside watching the dancers with a drink in his hand. He is quietly doing so.
Bianca lifts the pall of her claret gown high enough to display a pair of intricately wrought winged sandals. She clicks the heels of her apropos footwear together, shedding a cascade of luminous sparks. Waxen features are endlessly animated as she speaks to Chrys, ending her zeal with a salute in Leon's general direction.
Frank walks towards the way down.
Frank has left.
Chrys leans a bit to gaze at Bianca's... sandals, nodding approvingly before laughing. He comments quietly, his mask lifting in no particular direction and dropping a bit, like a hatchet. Not that he would dare mime hatchet-ing Leon at all.
Leon is looking at Oriana, and so the salute is quite lost to him, although a taller man behind him responds to the salute with a nod.
The band abruptly stops mid-tune, and the dancers freeze in horror in the middle of the dance floor, their bangles stop chiming! Sudden, tribal rhythm of the drums erupts from the grove behind the band and two lines of men dressed in fur and colored lively step in, playing drums and surrounding the female nymph like dancers.
Kincaid enters from Third Floor Rear.
Kincaid has arrived.
Melisande's simple sandals take her in the direction of the dancing fray, her lips curving up secretively. And she comes to a halt, right next to poor, unsuspecting Dirk. The young woman leans over, her voice low and her expression amused.
Melisande forms a cluster with Dirk.
Frank enters from Third Floor Rear.
Frank has arrived.
Kincaid walks out into the gardens during the shift in music and dancers. Glancing around for familiar faces and taking in the spectacle of the performers, he slips on green tinted sunglasses and searches for a drink.
Chrys watches the odd show, speaking quietly with Bianca as he keeps on the lookout for new costumes and glory.
A battle of sexes begins among the artists on the dance floor, under the full moon and soft light of the lanterns, the men impose with a powerful roll of rhythm and the women reply with a jingle of bangles through their dance.
Dirk is talking to Melisande quietly.
Frank enters the rooftop gardens. He scans the scene, taking in the decorations and the people attending.
Celeste comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Celeste has arrived.
As the spiced wine circulates the audience that watches the show, more than a few of guests start holding up the rhythm with the clap of their hands. Slowly, the choreography starts to converge the battle lines and serpent of women starts twirling around men static in their drumming. The beat rises up.
Bianca's flaxen lashes veil the genuine nature of her gaze that is directed resolutely at the dance floor. A smug crescent of coral lips drowned within the nadirs of her sparkling flute.
Chrys stands with Bianca near the dance floor, flute of drink in his left hand and a fine mask on a bone stick in his right. The lights of the event catch his blond hair and the gems on his costume.
Raphaela's eyes in their cloud of black, settle from greeting one guest to another.
Melisande's lips tug upwards in her conversation with Dirk, eyes still on the dancing spectacle. She responds to something he's said with a dip of her dark head.
Frank departs the entrance of the gardens and heads for the bar.
Harold enters from Third Floor Rear.
Harold has arrived.
Guinevere enters from Third Floor Rear.
Guinevere has arrived.
With drink in hand, meandering seems the thing to do. Smiling at the outfits and costumes people put together, despite the fact he failed ultimately in creating one himself or didn't bother too. Until Kincaid finds a tactical perch along the balcony rail to watch the party from. Just an outsider looking in.
Celeste pauses and glances around slowly, hands clasped in front of her. She double-takes when she spies Frank and her eyebrows go up. She sweeps over to join him, grinning.
Celeste forms a cluster with Frank.
Bianca is a bright stain of claret against the backdrop of Chrys's pale white and saffron tastefully bejeweled. She does not reply to her companion for what seems to be a rather tedious span of time.
Raphaela pads softly across the grass and makes her way towards the dance floor where the rhythm rises up to wildness of drums and chimes...then the music ends and so does the performance, artists remaining in the poses, creating a true living sculpture as they await for the judgment of the guests.
Frank just arrives at the bar when Celeste sneaks up on him. He turns his head and grins, saying something to her.
Guinevere is escorted by a /very/ uncomfortable looking Harold. His nod to the theme a single Highland Rose attached to his doublet. He leans down to whisper to Guinevere.
Chrys is squinting, watching the dancers like he's trying to puzzle out the deep meaning of life they're trying to convey. The gap in conversation with Bianca doesn't appear to bother him, and eventually he murmurs reply.
Frank stands at the bar talking to Celeste. He spots Dirk and offers him a waves before turning back to Celeste.
Celeste flashes another grin at Frank and casts a brief glance around before her gaze settles back on Frank.
Harold tugs at his doublet, trying to straighten it out.
As the applause washes over them, dancers and drummers bow and slink away, leaving the dance floor empty. Raphaela settled herself on the steps in front of the orchestra by this time, hands folded.
Bianca looks up at Chrys with shrill avian grace, budding smile stringently tempered into a no-nonsense-spoon-full-of sugar expression that succeeds in quirking a single gilt brow.
Dirk is speaking to Melisande and might not have caught the wave.
Chrys answers with a low word and reaches to collect her glass, likely to deposit both on a passing tray. The mask he holds bobs down at her, hatchet-like again, though not taking out her eye. That would be rude.
Bianca isn't greedy; she has two and thus relinquishes her unfinished flute in humble favor of Chrys's hand.
Donned in a gown inspired by the far reaches of the past in Lyonesse, Guinevere steps onto the rooftop garden, arm in arm with the Grand Master of the Knights of the Graal, Sir Harold. Her golden hair falls in long ringlets over her shoulders, emerald eyes looking about widely. She stays very close to her escort, as though for protection from the other nobility. Her sandals are made entirely of the same runic designs as those which grace the tightly-cinched bodice of her dress.
When guests quiet down, the statue of a Roman Goddess moves, and speaks. Acoustics of the place is simply stunning, considering it is an open space. Knowing ear would know it must have taken some effort.
"Dear Guests, thank you for honoring this occasion with your presence and welcome to the Sun Court's Summer Eve Ball!" she waits for a moment for guests to resettle and continues with a smile "With patronage of Princess Florimel, tonight, we celebrate the light of life and joy of living! Let's dance!"
Leon offers his hand to Oriana.
Walter comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Walter has arrived.
Chrys rids himself of the glasses and takes Bianca's hand, stepping her out onto the mossy dance floor. True to his word, he steps lightly with his disallowed boots, leading her into the beginnings of a waltz. The mask glitters ahead of them like a flag on the bow of a ship; he's rather skilled at keeping it safe as they dance.
The orchestra strikes a quick, playful waltz tune popular around Amber these days - and dancing truly begins.
Melisande is in the midst of giving a shrug to Dirk, near to where Raphaela is making her speech. "Why, yes, my Lord, I would like a drink." Her grin is wry, "How kind of you to offer."
Harold bows and offers a hand to Guinevere.
Dirk offers his arm to Melisande and heads towards the bar with her.
Celeste offers her hand to Frank and smiles broadly.
From the palace Walter tromps out. Even in sandals his steps are not light. Though maybe the music helps drown out the heavy steps.
Raphaela seems to be pleased with the response, then tries to slink away unnoticed for a breath before continuing the mingling. A pan offers her a silver goblet of spiced red wine and she nods gratefully.
Rae comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.
Rae has arrived.
Frank takes Celeste by the hand and leads her to the dance floor. He nods to Dirk in passing. "Good Eve." When arrives at the dance floor he squares up with Celeste.
Melisande gives her hand to Dirk, but she holds his arm to prevent the movement. She quirks her dark head to a passing servant. "So much easier," the Lady murmurs. "Now, tell me more. Privately, perhaps?" She sends a meaningful glance to a sequestered corner away from the festivities, but still in plain view.
Walter snatches the biggest thing of alcohol he can find from a passing wood nymph and blazes a trail to a seat.
Celeste follows Frank and places her hand in his and her hand on his shoulder blade, lifting an eyebrow as she seems to utter some soft inquiry.
Guinevere pushes back the hood of her cape and offers a curtsey to Harold before taking his hand. She whispers briefly to him.
With one hand placed upon Chrys's shoulder and the other resting on the grip the man has over the ivory rod that supports a masterpiece of a mask Bianca is deftly maneuvered onto the mossy dance floor. She seems perhaps a trifle taller than usual, though the height of her footwear does not impede her impeccable balance.
Dirk follows Melisande's lead and grabs a drink as he waves to his brother. He gives Melisande a nod and follows her to a more private place of her choosing.
A few servants slide out from a servant’s entrance carrying a large blank canvas and a few trays of mixed paints. Moving along the side of the party until they find Kincaid at the back of the gardens railing where they set up his tools for capturing tonight’s event.
Rae arrives with a slightly stalking walk, and the demeanor of someone that is looking for someone else. There is a slight scrunching of her nose, and she is quick to grab for a glass of alcohol.
Frank smiles and says something softly to Celeste as he begins to dance to the music. He steps with with her and sends her into a spin and back into him.
A hand is placed upon Guinevere's hip, as the music picks up Harold leads her onto the floor turning about the mossy dance floor, his steps simple.
Chrys leads well, perfectly willing to poke some eyes out with his mask if need be. Dancing can be a very strategic thing. New guests distract the blond man briefly, but he returns his attention to Bianca readily.
Leon leads Oriana onto the dance floor, one arm politely around her waist and one holding her hand. He can dance, but he gives her the chance to show she can too.
The vines of her costume trail after her as Melisande cuts through the dance floor on her way to a niche in the nearby grove that has a cushioned bench near a statue of kiss on the other side. Her eyes behind the simple black mask blaze blue with intent Dirk following her.
Moss of the dance floor is tricky and forces dance to be lighter and more bouncy than waxed floors of the ball rooms, but moss does not wear under feet and its plain cozy. Curtsey of Artemis Feldane, some offer helpfully.
Celeste follows Frank's lead in clean, confident motions, spinning with carefully gauged flourish before returning to him and smiling broadly.
Guinevere rests her free hand upon Harold's shoulder, inhaling deeply as she steels herself for formal dancing. Doing her best to follow the Knight's lead, she takes too many steps here and too few there, but manages not to step on his toes -too- often. She blushes through most of it, murmuring apologies every time her foot comes into contact with his.
Celeste laughs for some reason, sweeping her skirts carefully as she dances, she just shakes her head at Frank.
Each time Chrys's mask threatens to impale a shining orb of a passing dancer, Bianca adjusts the angle just so - her hand resting leisurely over the grip her partner has on the ivory handle. She follows his lead with flawless rhythm, waxen features drawn into a semblance of unblinking joy.
Frank leads Celeste around the floor with surprising grace. Every now and then he sends her into a spin allowing her a chance to show off. When she spins back to him he sends her into a dip before bringing her back on her feet.
Raphaela circles and twines around non dancing guests, greeting and nodding and smiling as she walks across the garden, very slow, as it is.
If Sir Harold minds his toes being stepped on, he doesn’t show it - in fact at the murmured apologies his head shakes negatively, then again he whispers to the small blond woman.
Celeste issues a soft sound of startlement followed by a burst of rich alto laughter as she's dipped, one hand latched onto his shoulder as he brings her back up.
Rae glances to the dance floor, as she makes her way deeper into the crowd. She sips at her drink, and sometimes her gaze lingers on a person or a statue.
Sometimes, statue moves.
Celeste laughs again and rolls her eyes playfully in mock exasperation.
Leon squeaks in nervous enjoyment when the statue moves while he is too close to it, but mostly lets his partner play her part and keeps quiet.
Oriana floats practically as she steps out on the dance floor. She watches her partner as he dances and tries to match his movements. Thought for a moment as Leon squeaks she tries not to laugh.
Walter keeps snatching new drink glasses when his has become empty. It seems he's here just to soak up the free booze.
Kincaid tosses off his green tinted glasses and with the help of a shot begins to carve long paint strokes along his canvas.
Vivrie comes here from the direction of the Main Courtyard - Royal Palace.
Vivrie has arrived.
Raphaela pauses near Walter and smiles, greeting the grumpy man.
Raphaela forms a cluster with Walter.
Whatever Harold says causes Guinevere to smile very warmly at him, her face positively alighting. Confidence now emanates from the youthful Lyonne woman, although she continues to blush a bit anytime she crushes his poor toes. However, though instances grow fewer and further between as her eyes remain locked to his.
The orchestra ends the waltz and shifts to another lively tune.
Celeste curtsies, "Thank you, enjoy your evening." she slips away from the dance floor and makes her way towards Walter.
Celeste leaves her current cluster.
Leon's cloak betrays him once more, but this time it catches on something Chrys is wearing just as Leon is bowing to Oriana at the end of the dance. It brings him up short.
As the waltz ends Harold offers a polite bow, then offers his arm to lead Guinevere from the floor. "You are light on your feet Lady Guinevere, your natural grace a joy to behold."
Chrys dances well, if one doesn't count the constant corrections of movement he's engaged in. Eventually, it must be assumed that Bianca is actually leading in some form or manner.
Vivrie joins the party already in progress, stepping out into the gardens with lifted brows, stunned by the transformation. A slow, smile curves her lips as she moves deeper into the crowd, smiling and nodding to those she knows, speaking politely as she passes till she can see better who is in attendance. She brushes her hands over the new formal and steps carefully, making her way toward the fringe of the crowd gathered around the dance floor.
Indeed, there is much on Chrys's costume to catch on, namely little gems. The man pauses his dance as Leon's cape snags and is drawn into the dance with Bianca. "Ah, excuse me, sir..."
Frank goes to greet other party guests. After a period of time he slips out.
Guinevere walks slowly and with great care. Perhaps it is the unsual flooring or perhaps she is simply unused to wearing heels. She holds Harold's arm just a bit too tightly, as though steadying herself. With a dip of her head she replies in her native tongue of Lyonne. "You are a far better dancer than you led me to believe, Grand Master." Quirking her lips into a smirk, she adds playfully, "And it is a joy to be held."
Bianca peals away from Chrys to execute a fathomless theatrical courtesy. Her smile to Leon is in equal parts welcoming and benign, "My Lord," She greets as Leon's cloak snags Chrys's wardrobe.
People not dancing, and people not scattering to explore the hidden corners of the garden are mostly preoccupied with two things. Drinking extremely good alcohols or commenting on fashion.
Leon turns and bows. "Terribly sorry, old chap!" His face is a mask of polite horror.
Melisande settles her empty glass upon the bench for a servant to clear and places her fingertips lightly upon the arm Dirk has just proffered. "I have been known to dance on occasion. Lead the way?"
Celeste joins Walter.
Leon leaves his current cluster.
Chrys's reaction to Leon's clothing's love for his, in a perfectly platonic and accidental way, of course, is very benign. He smiles politely, taking his hand off his dance partner to attempt to part the fabrics. "It's alright, I'm sure it'll... are you fond of this cape, sir? It smells lovely."
Dirk walks Melisande to the dance floor and smiles "I hope I live up to your skills and talents." He offers her his arms and readies himself for dancing.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Leon says, "Thank you. It's made with real roses on attired silk. It won't last, but I'm fond of it in the moment."
Raphaela joins Celeste.
Raphaela turns to nearly bump into Celeste!
Bianca smiles to the two lords, intoning, "Nothing worth being fond of ever lasts, lord Leon."
Chrys smiles pleasantly. "It now has a hole in it. There you go." He sets Leon's cloak free.
Harold leads Guinevere from the floor "Well I try not to look like too much of an oaf at formal balls, to be honest a list field is by far more to my taste" he laughs as they arrive at some seats.
Seeing Bianca, Vivrie begins to maneuver her way toward her friend, eyes shifting to follow Celeste as she moves through the crowd, she smiles seeing Walter and the pretty lady he is speaking with. Her path already determined, Vivrie moves toward Bianca, skirting the dance floor.
"As do I," Melisande offers with a lift of one dark eyebrow across the space between her and Dirk, before she gives herself over to his arms and the dance. "If you are heavy of foot, it might be best to let me lead," she offers with a low, smiling sarcasm.
Guinevere chuckles gently, the sound not nearly as light, airy, or delicate as the other women attending the ball. Just as they arrive at the seats, her stomach growls. Loudly. It seems her high cheeks are destined to remain a deep rouge for the entire night. "My sincerest apologies, Grand Master." Her eyes drop from his again, then move over in the hopes of spotting a server carrying food. Or liquor.
Kincaid works diligently on capturing the masked revelers at the ball. Paint drops and smears begin to mark his clothes, hand, and face; all of which is unnoticed by the artist. Only stopping from time to time to wet his throat with whatever is in that flask of his.
Leon tells Chrys, "Thank you, I think." He has the grace to bow away, and the sense to retreat.
Bianca sheds a 'look' at Chrys - waxen features strident yet unreadable. The crescent of her thumb dabs the live sap of the exotic flower entwining her throat and bending she mends the tear her companion's jewels bequeathed upon Leon's cloak. The patch shines jewel like.
Chrys keeps his smile for Leon as the man turns away, and looks back to Bianca with that same smile.
Leon is caught by Bianca, and so gets to be mended as he retreats. His glittering, flashing clothes now match the shine on his cloak.
Celeste laughs at something said and flashes Walter a crooked grin.
Nearby, Caine's smile is a thing unaltered. "I knew that would happen with the way they attached these gems."
A tree leans in to offer Guinevere a fruit of canapes. Nature is sensitive to hints. Also, a servant is hidden in a tree.
Leon retreats a surprisingly long way, right to the stairs.
Leon walks towards the way down.
Leon has left.
Stepping up beside Bianca and her companion Vivrie gives Chrys a warm smile and touches Bianca on the shoulder lightly, leaning to try to catch her eye. "Bianca, how wonderful to see you. My but you do look lovely! What a glorious dress." she smiles brightly, admiring the gown Bianca wears.
Benedict has arrived.
Beatrice has arrived.
Benedict arrives with his wife, thus making the party taller on average.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Raphaela peels off Walter and Celeste and pads towards the newly arrived couple. Party is well off and people are already tipsy, happy, dancing and gossiping. The pair though, certainly gets noticed. Raphaela pauses before them and bows in welcome.
Benedict bows his head to Raphaela, easily.
Benedict forms a cluster with Beatrice.
Raphaela joins Benedict.
Bianca is poised alongside Chrys on the edge of the dance floor - claret gown a radiant splotch of contrast to the ivory and saffron hues of Chrys's floral attire. It seems she is about to reply to her companion, but is distracted first by the gentle weight of Vivrie's hand and then the arrival of the royal couple.
Harold blinks in surprise at the tree offering up their fruit to Guinevere. "Astounding, but I think I prefer picking my own apple" he offers to Guinevere. Seeing the King and Duchess he turns.
Oriana is left in the middle of the dance floor alone, and the red, gold, and multicolored flowers that adorn her dress, and head-wreathe shimmer a moment, noticing the King she smiles. "Well well, uncle." she says in a soft voice to no one in particular.
Beatrice enters on Benedict's arm, the usual retinue of guards and attendants around/behind them. She, too, dips her head to Raphaela, also giving nods to those in the crowd likely to receive them, when they catch her eye.
Celeste issues another laugh at something Walter says and finally gets herself a tall flute of something bubbly before glancing about the room, noting the king and his chancellor, already on her feet she curtsies should they cross nearby otherwise her attention slides back to Walter.
Chrys replaces his hand on Bianca just as Vivrie steps up to them. The blond man smiles warmly, inclining his head and letting the ladies chat. He glances to the entry of the King, then back to Vivrie, still smiling.
Dirk is dancing with Melisande following her lead and hasn't quite noticed the arrival yet.
Rae is at the edges of the gathering, people watching. There is a cross between a smile and a frown on her lips, and a drink in her hand.
Kincaid takes a break from the large canvas painting. Pulling out a candy bar from his vest and taking a seat on the balcony's railing.
Guinevere gives a start when a tree offers her food, laughing coarsely once she realizes there is a person within. "Thank ye," she replies in Thary, her accent straight from the slums of New Lyonesse. To Harold, she speaks again in her native tongue. "A thousand words of praise would do little justice to the gratitude which I feel for you at this moment, your lordship." Of course, once the King and Queen arrive, she looks over and immediately curtsies as deeply as though she were merely a servant.
Royal pair is noticed and as the baroness leads them further in, circles of curtseys and bows emerge.
Bianca laughs an uncharacteristic trill that boarders dangerously on a giggle. Leaning to greet Vivrie with a fleeting peck upon the taller woman's cheek, she does not sever contact with her flamboyantly clad escort.
The tune fades, orchestra gets up and bows as one, and when it picks up again it's a more solemn, but still sparkly tune, offering the dancers an easier pace for rest.
Vivrie follows Bianca's gaze and drops into a slow curtsey, inclining her head to the King and Duchess, respectfully. As Bianca laughs she turns her attention back to her friend in time to receive the greeting. She returns it in kind and smiles warmly at Chrys, though she does wonder who he is and where her brother might be, furrowing her brows to glance around.
Benedict spots someone he knows and has to greet in the crowd, and steps aside to nod to them, losing his Baroness for the moment.
Benedict leaves his current cluster.
Beatrice stays, for the moment, with Raphaela.
Celeste 's eyebrows lift and she murmurs something to Walter before adopting a demure look and fluttering her lashes comically.
Harold offers a polite bow to the royal couple
Bianca's curtsey to the Royal couple is delivered slightly off beat and when she looks to Chrys, gilt brows steeple in wanton disappointment.
Rae finishes what remains in her glass, and trades it out for one that is far more full. She also snags a small piece of food to pop into her mouth.
Celeste chuckles and slips close to give Walter a kiss on the cheek before straitening and lifting her glass to her lips.
Chrys laughs at something Bianca says, and reaches to briefly squeeze her hand. "I'll bring this by later," he promises, giving Vivrie a wink before stepping off the dance floor.
Caine leaves his current cluster.
Caine has departed.
"No, keep it," Bianca tell the departing pillar of Chrys's back. His departure leaves her a trifle off balance, though she is swift to claim the crook of Vivrie's elbow.
Vivrie furrows her brows softly speaking to Bianca as she takes her arm. "I certainly hope I did not frighten him away...should I apologize?" she asks, turning to the young woman beside her, concern furrowing her brows.
The glittery mask waves cheerfully above him; Chrys heard. He's making his way toward the King now.
Benedict forms a cluster with Caine.
Melisande laughs at something Dirk has said, truly laughs. "No doubt you are right, Cousin mine." She extracts herself from his arms shortly thereafter, "My gratitude for the dance." A small curtsey is swept in his direction. "In any event, I guess we shall see."
Beatrice has spotted Rae, and invites her over with a visible gesture.
Guinevere slowly rises, then leans in toward Harold and softly asks, "Would it be appropriate to approach His Majesty personally to thank him for the invitation?"
Celeste scans he room and her gaze lingers briefly on Chrys as Vivrie and Bianca seem a bit puzzled, her slate gaze darting back and forth as if she's trying to figure out what she missed while she was distracted. Though, distraction claims her again promptly at something Walter says. She smiles and takes his arm.
Walter crooks an arm for Celeste to take and then begins a languid stroll through the fantasy on the rooftops.
Chrys hovers politely, even if Benedict is alone for the moment, and bows low, murmuring something before straightening and turning to move off. Important men should not be delayed by worms, it seems.
Dirk looks at the King and his company.
Harold rises and looks over the situation "I would wait until his Magesty get's to you M'lady...perhaps you might enjoy some wine in the mean time?" he looks for the tree with wine glasses, but settles for a passing Pan. Deftly he plucks two glasses offering one to Guinevere and nodding his thanks to the servent.
Bianca laughs a stifled trill into Vivrie's shoulder.
Caine leaves his current cluster.
Kincaid munches on his candy bar and wipes his brow as tired eyes watch over the crowds. The brow wipe leaves a paint smear that only adds to different colored smears, the artist is beginning to look more like a brightly painted soldier.
Benedict strokes his chin, thoughtfully. That drags a finger across his lower lip.
Gossipers do note how Baroness does not go near smudged artist. Gossip. Gossip. Oooh, nice dress.
Caine walks towards the way down.
Caine has left.
Celeste frowns and her attention focuses on Rae and then relaxes, but then her attention settles on Chrys as she murmurs to alter, watching Chrys disappear.
Raphaela tilts from the company of Beatrice, and greets a few more people, managing to claim another goblet on the way.
Celeste mutters to Walter, "I... fellow, do you?... ot..."
Raphaela leaves her current cluster.
Guinevere gratefully accepts the wine, looking at it as though she wishes it were something much, much stronger. "Yes. Of course." Spotting Celeste, her smile falters slightly and she hides it by taking an almost ridiculously dainty sip from her glass. Apparently, she has been practicing. "Are you alright, Sir Harold?"
Vivrie grins at Bianca turning this way and that to show off her new gown, laughing softly with her friend.
Rae catches the gesture given by Beatrice, and begins to wander that way, dipping her head slightly in greeting once she arrives at the pregnant woman's side.
Rae forms a cluster with Beatrice.
Melisande leaves her current cluster.
Celeste pauses and gives Walter a wry look.
Melisande cocks her head off in an unknown direction before turning back to Dirk. "If you'll excuse me?" She gives no other indication, only turns and heads off in to the hedges.
Bianca subdues her joy only to settle waxen features into a radiant smile that showcases a row of pearlescent teeth and parts her mouth wide enough apart to reveal the presence of rarely seen dimples. Squeezing Vivrie's arm Bianca directs their step in unison towards the nearest server of mulled wine.
Dirk smiles and nods "By all means. Be safe and don't fall."
Mind you, there is no reason to powder noses behind trees and hedges, entrance to toilets is hidden from view with hedge, a statue of cherub before man's door and that of Psyche before women's door.
Benedict picks himself up a glass of wine, by ordering a Bacchan with several to follow him.
Guinevere forms a cluster with Harold.
Benedict makes his way towards Dirk, and takes a drink to offer it over.
Benedict forms a cluster with Dirk.
The Grand Master sips his wine, then lifts it to admire color and clarity, "One must give credit where Credit is due Lady Guinevere, this Sun Court knows how to host a party." he takes another sip of the wine clearly approving.
Vivrie blushes and beams a big smile at Bianca, moving with her toward the server with the mulled wine. She takes a glass and smiles talking with Bianca quietly, laughing and sipping the wine.
Dirk watches Benedict come towards him and straightens up fast. He runs his fingers through his hair and make sure his shirt is tucked in. "Your Majesty?" His voice climbs in pitch in surprise and questioning curiosity.
Oriana mingles for a moment between the groups of people, the young Princess looking around and notices Benedict. "Uncle!" she calls, figuring that might get his attention more than your majesty.
Raphaela, the hostess has a warm smile as she deals with wave after wave of colorfully dressed guests. Orchestra pauses the music to get refreshed and dance floor is left emptied for entertainers to claim again. Drummers seat themselves on the floor beneath the orchestra terrace and as they start to pick up a rhythm flamethrowers and jugglers dance in to perform, and possibly singe brows of the first row of spectators.
Guinevere nods, looking embarrassed for a moment before speaking again. As her gaze follows Benedict, she spots the man's destination and cannot help but groan softly and murmur to Harold.
Dirk takes the wine that Benedict offers him and nods as he responds to the King. The wine gets drained fast after his response.
Benedict takes his own glass, so that he can match Dirk, although he drinks at a more sedate pace.
Benedict steps away from Dirk, still with his wine in hand.
With candy bar devoured Kincaid returns to working on the painting of the Ball. One servant passes by and looks horrified by the art work. Perhaps the man has lost his gift.
Benedict leaves his current cluster.
Rae seems to be demonstrating some sort of dance hold to Beatrice, a long armed one indeed.
Dirk watches Benedict.
Guinevere blinks and looks over to Harold in confusion, then laughs again before replying. She takes another sip, then sets the glass down to grab a canape from her plate upon the table. Although she takes a bite as delicately as she can manage, but still ends up with cream all about both corners of her mouth.
Benedict is soon nothing but a crowned head in the crowd, and those watching, Dirk among them, get to see him make his way to the edges of the crowd and then away.
Benedict walks towards the way down.
Benedict has left.
Celeste continues to slowly pace along the crowd with Walter, her hand on the crook of his arm
Kincaid steps back from his painting and drops the paint brush. Turning the still wet painting around to face the nearby crowd, he departs.
Kincaid walks towards the way down.
Kincaid has left.
Walter pats Celeste's hand and prepares to make an escape.
Beatrice has clasped Rae's hands in greeting and squeezes them again, now.
Celeste frowns gently in disappointment before offering Walter a smile and releasing his arm.
Vivrie furrows her brows taking Bianca's hand shaking her head as she speaks quietly to the petite beauty. She glances about drawing her aside to talk in earnest to her friend, trying to make her smile return.
Walter walks towards the way down.
Walter has left.
Raphaela is managing to hide from the crowd briefly. Kincaid's suspicious and not planned painting is discretely removed.
Celeste smiles wryly as Walter departs and looks chagrined as her gaze sweeps the room.
Dirk is there again being a cluster of one. He doesn't feel so bad about it though.
Celeste spies Bianca and Vivrie and armed with a refreshed glass, makes her way towards the ladies.
Guinevere looks at Harold as though he was crazy, but does as she is told. Setting the treat down, she again lifts the wineglass, headless of the cream on her mouth. Closing her eyes, she brings the decanter to her lips and takes a small sip. Holding the liquid in her mouth, she inhales deeply. This attempt at sampling like a pro ends with her coughing loudly as the drink goes down her windpipe, spilling wine upon the flora and fauna beneath her feet.
Acrobats finish their spectacular intermission and the orchestra returns with a Celtic sounding dance tune. A few younger posh noblemen look upset because they can't spot Baroness Sorgo to steal for a dance.
Harold pats Guinevere's back, then when her spell of coughing is do lifts his own glass. He swirls the ruby liquid in his hand admiring the color, he lowers the glass, his nostrils flare as he breathes in the wines delicate aroma, then closes his eyes and takes a small sip.
Bianca murmurs to Vivrie while she ponders the depths of her wineglass. The slender pillar of her neck cranes birdlike to trace Walter's retreat, and with a tempered quip to her companion, she smiles in greeting to the Lady Proxy.
Dirk heads for the bar to drink rum...
Harold leans close to Guinevere the glass in his hand, for the moment forgotten.
Raphaela finds her way towards Guinevere and the Gentleman. She inclines her head in greeting, golden leaves and flowers on her tiara tittering "It is such a pleasure to see you here, m'lady." she offers to Guinevere, and then nod to Harold "M'lord."
Melisande walks towards the way down.
Melisande has left.
Dirk turns around and looks at the crowd.
Harold takes the rose from his doublet and offers it to Raphaela "The Highland rose M'lady, please accept this small token and our thanks for your Hospitality."
Raphaela smiles and accepts it with a small curtsey, although roman styled outfits do not allow for much flourish in one "Well, I am glad you decided to come, thank you. I hope you're enjoying yourselves?"
Harold inclines his head to Raphaela "Good food, Good wine, pleasant company, how could I not be enjoying myself." he offers a polite bow to Raphaela.
Dirk smiles and pushes off the bar. He takes a large glass of rum with him and smirks as he heads over in Guin's general direction.
Vivrie converses with Celeste and Bianca, her head tilted softly as she listens.
Nearby, Celeste murmurs softly, "There are a number of methods. Tainted can sense one another. My source successfully pointed out others I already knew were tainted, so I'm certain they were not mistaken." She pauses and looks sheepish, "Sorry. It seems I can never set aside work."
Raphaela smiles and nods "Well, have a good night, then." she ventures further.
Dirk finally makes his way towards Guin and when he gets there he says "Hello Guin long time no see?"
Eric comes here from the direction of the Fourth Floor - Royal Palace.
Eric has arrived.
Nisha comes here from the direction of the Fourth Floor - Royal Palace.
Nisha has arrived.
Beatrice nods her head to Rae in their quiet, shared conversation.
Guinevere dips her head to Dirk, standing exceptionally close to Harold. Perhaps inappropriately so. "Yep, a long time, m'lord. How've ye been?"
Never one to arrive alone at such engagements as these, Eric enters the party with a woman on his crooked arm. His smile is arrogant, his posture is noble and straight, and his eyes might indicate he were looking over some parcel of land he owns but rarely gets to enjoy. "Welcome to the Sun Court's Summer Ball, Nisha," he says to the woman on his arm.
Dirk nods "Pretty good, not been stabbed lately, perhaps you could change that? And I have joined the army, enlisted in the Defenders of Kolvir under Knight-Captain Feldane."
Raphaela notices the new arrival and mingles her way through "Your highness, stealing my only duty here tonight...How horrible." she smiles and bows slightly "Welcome to the Summer Eve Ball."
Beatrice's conversation with Rae pauses momentarily as she overhears the snatch of conversation from Dirk, mentioning the Defenders. She pauses to turn and give him a nod at that.
Oriana mills around the party, sort of in a daze. Her steps are light and she seems perhaps a bit distant in her movements, performing singularly in the middle of the floor- quiet a sight to see in her multicolored-flowers dress, and her flower wreathe.
Nisha's hand is settled easily on Eric's crooked arm, and the foreign woman is full of smiles. "Lovely," she says, her Thari accented with the accent of Tanus. Raphaela, even, gets a smile.
"And here I worried you would get my title wrong, Baroness. I should have known what an impeccable hostess you would be." There is some sarcasm in Eric's voice, but it's well hidden in friendly tones. "Nisha, I present to you the Baroness de Sorgo. Raphaela, the Lady Nisha."
Harold stands near to Guinevere, as Dirk seems her friend he busies himself with another taste of wine.
Raphaela leaves her current cluster and forms a cluster with Eric instead.
Nisha joins Eric.
Raphaela smiles and nods with a smile to Nisha "A pleasure to have you here, I hope you'll enjoy yourselves."
Nisha presses her hands together, and bows slightly over them. "Namaste," she offers to Raphaela, still smiling.
Guinevere smiles wolfishly. "Only if ye're fool enough ta try ta kiss me again." She motions toward Harold. "Besides me own blades, me escort's got a migh'y big sword."
Nearby, Vivrie grins and glances to Bianca then to Celeste with a soft shrug. "With one another mostly, though I've not been here very long."
Dirk looks at Guin as she mentions Harold's big sword and shakes his head as his mouth opens and closes with a chuckle instead of a totally inappropriate remark. "If you says so." is emitted after a minute of struggling for control.
Rae takes a step back from Beatrice, then bows somewhat. "I should take my leave," she says, as she rises
Harold glances at the mention of his /big/ sword, perhaps thinking it an avergae sized sword at best "Why Lady Guinevere, I honestly thought you paid no notice to my weapon" he smiles and sips his wine. Then nods to Dirk "Are you having a good time tonight solider?"
Dirk nods "Indeed I am. I usually do at these gatherings. How are you doing?" He smiles at Guin as he chats up Harold.
Guinevere seems oblivious to the running gag at the expense of her words. Looking up at Harold in confusion, she replies, "Ye're me escort. Ye'd -better- have a big'un." She then grabs the canape again and takes another big bite, cream once more getting more on her mouth than within. Dainty, the new noblewoman is not.
Raphaela inclines her head at Eric and his lady with an opening gesture offering them the magic garden to enjoy and departs to the next late guests.
Beatrice inclines her head to Rae and says, "As should I, indeed. Let us walk down together." She cants a nod here and there at those with whom she did not speak, particularly, then turns to the exist, her attendants and guards in her wake.
Celeste stands with Vivrie and Bianca still, sipping bubbly and murmuring softly to the ladies.
Eric moves Nisha further into the party. One might note the utter lack of attention given to the Chancellor, compared to the brief nod given to Rae. He leans in to his companion a touch to murmur as they walk.
Dirk looks at Guin, "Chin dearest love of my soon to be ended life."
Beatrice may be somewhat oblivious to the arrival of Eric, or at least, he was not among those to receive a nod.
Rae nods in agreement to Beatrice, and turns to walk with the woman. Eric's brief nod is returned, though the observant might notice a curl of lips involved that isn't the type that could be called 'friendly'.
Beatrice walks towards the way down.
Beatrice leaves her current cluster.
Beatrice has left.
Rae walks towards the way down.
Rae has left.