The Princess of Storms is having a ball tonight. She's painted clouds across the western sky.

[foryourown]

As the light fades, the collars on the cats visiting the barracks - and the collars on the wrists of those who chose to put them on - start to glow. The transition between the freezing, crumbling barracks and the opulence of a castle's interior is almost unnoticeable. One moment they're in the barracks. The next, they'll find themselves in large

Comments

[lovethissuit]

Peter is actually sleeping for a change when the small cabin shifts into something else, and all he does after is fully sprawl out on the king-sized bed with a quiet groan before settling into a much more restful sleep. The cots back at the cabins? Are nowhere near the quality of the mattress he's got going on right now.

The snoring and occasional mumbling continue for another ten or fifteen minutes before something disturbs him. A quiet, muffled tink tink tink - a tapping that starts and stops. Grumbling and scrunching his forehead, the agent raises his head groggily, blinking at the soft light of the chamber.

"El...?" He snorts a bit as his brain kicks into gear, then really opens his eyes to see... A glass wall in front of him. With miniature people the size of his index finger on the other side floating and swimming around while pointing and gurgling at him nonsensically.

Miniature, scaled, green people. With tails. And antennae. And gillsThere's a moment of golden silence... Before Peter yells at the top of his voice when the

[painhumbles]

Gabriel pokes his head into the room with a grin that he shouldn't be wearing, considering the circumstances. The woman who made his life miserable and turned his sister and his friend into cats is hosting a party. Why is that a happy thing? Ever?

Oh, but he can snark again- never mind that he's not sure when, exactly, Tempest's deal is supposed to end, but she said 'until the Gala.' It's the Gala. He held his tongue for a week. He can be a bitch now.

"Actual hell's a little warmer, Petey," he says. "And there's no Sea World."

[w_for_wizard]

Harry's hanging back, in the doorway to his own room, arms folded over his chest as he eyes Gabriel from across the sitting room. "I feel like this is a punishment of some kind, but I don't know what for. I was under the impression the Princess liked me."

He has the mark on his neck to prove it. ...not that he really wants to go around showing that off, he just doesn't have much of a choice.

[lovethissuit]

"Fr--" Peter spins on his heel to aim at Gabe's smiling face before he groans. Of course Gabe's here. Of course.. Shoving his Sig back in the holster with a disgruntled frown that's entirely directed at Gabe, he stalks over to shove his way past the archangel into the common room. "And it's Peter. Five simple letters, two easy syllables. I don't know why it's so hard for people to handle all that."

Yeah, he's already riled up - poking at his name isn't helping anything. He snorts at Harry's comment, rubbing his neck as he checks out the rest of the room. Sea World is right - it's all blues and greens of every shade imaginable, with potted examples of seagrass on the various tables that are waving gently as if by a current. Never mind there's no wind or water to move them. Whatever. Not focusing on that.

"I'm pretty sure most of the players here aren't big fans of karma, as much as 'hey, let's poke at the lesser things to see how they twitch today'."

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark arrived in the Wood roughly two hours ago. In that two hours, he found himself half-freezing in the snow in little more than a t-shirt and slacks with two pair of half-broken handcuffs shackled to each wrist with no clue how he got there, and was promptly accosted by an unruly Persian cat that decided it was crucial that he take its collar. Oh sorry, he forgot to mention the cat talked. Clearly, the CIA were experimenting with psychotropic drugs- and to think he was anticipating Mr. Vaughn's fists. He wasn't certain which option was more ghastly- at least the alternative allowed him the opportunity to berate Vaughn's manhood and station. This was just unpleasant

[nogooddog]

It's too bad that Sark didn't notice that there was a person sleeping on the floor of the room. Charlie was dead to the world. He had gone to bed with his little cats all over the cabin and that was the last thing he remembered. He rolled over in his sleep, snoring loudly and smacking his lips. He was all about keepin' it classy.

As he rolled, Charlie hit a table leg and snorted, awaking. Well, he certainly could have picked a worse floor to pass out on. Nice rug.

The shady-looking man lifted his head, blinking as he tried to get his eyes to focus and it was then that the shape of the other man became visible. Charlie glanced around, quickly surveying where he was, and then yawned. Well this was just great - more unexplained traveling.

"Howdy, neighbor," he greeted as he pushed himself to his feet.

[im_apimp]

People. Alec smelled people. People who didn't belong in his cabin. He picked his head up off the pillow, one eye still closed as he glanced around and noticed a well dressed blond guy, and someone who looked a little rougher around the edges.

This should be fun.

"Hi." And then he noticed the decor. "Well. This is an upgrade."

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark tensed instinctively before turning to face the man on the floor, looking down on him with the sort of sneer someone might give a particularly stubborn wine stain on a beige carpet. Perhaps he should've done a full sweep of the room before he entered- he might have encountered a gunman, rather than a sleeping vagabond, but no matter. The damage had been done and he'd chide himself for the slip later

[itchafes]

Neal doesn't waste a whole lot of time deciding whether or not to trust the closet full of nice (weird) clothes and the warm, marble baths. He spends almost an hour soaking even the memory of dirt out of his pores before he wraps up in the various, multipatterned layersof one of the robes from his room's closet. Not a look he would have chosen, but hey. The feel of clean cloth on clean skin is as close to heaven as he's ever been.

He makes his way out to the atrium, bright-eyed and more energetic than he's felt in weeks. This is new. It's dramatically different, and he somehow doubts the strange people... fairy... things already here are allowed to be nasty during a party. He hopes.

[herbestdisguise]

A group of female Fae bustle into the atrium, talking and laughing like schoolgirls- in fact, that's what they all resemble, although dressed in finery. There's five of them- four plain, doting girls who look like servants or handmaidens and one very striking red-head

[itchafes]

His warning bells are going off before she ever speaks to him, though there's no indication of why beyond gorgeous and fae. ...That's probably enough reason for anyone. The light scorn in her tone makes him grin - not out of friendliness, just instinctively, while he rallies his verbal forces to return fire.

"You're here, I'm here - of course it will be." He winks at her, gives a little bow that somehow manages all the sarcasm of her own greeting without the vocalization.

[herbestdisguise]

The girls behind the woman giggle and a chorus of ooohs go up like teenage girls trying to prompt a catfight. The ringleader crosses closer to Neal, padding along on the balls of her bare feet.

"I was here last year and the year before. And long ago, when your kind weren't novelty items." She glances behind her and the handmaidens fall silent. "The Princess hosts a lovely party, but you're all just prizes to be won, in the end. Someone as cute as you is going to be eyed by every fae worth their weight in jewels." She reaches over and beeps Neal on the nose, her movements quick and precise.

[notalighieri]

From one moment in the frozen barracks... to a luxurious castle interior the next. Dante's eyebrows raise up as he looks around the room from his position: hands behind his head, feet crossed at the ankles and lounging on the bed. Clearly an improvement, he decides, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. A small smile creeps onto his demeanour as he takes a quick look around.

So, this is the party is it? Looking promising! By the time he pulls open the door to the suite's central sitting room, he's got a grin on his face. This doesn't look like a henchman's cottage that's for sure. On the road to party with the big guns, that's more like it!

Stepping into the sitting room he exclaims, "This sure is empty for some kinda party!" Yeah where are the women at, for one? Oh wait, there's more doors...

Might just as well try the nearest and see what happens. Will it be more bedrooms... or a corridor; empty rooms or people?

[hisstupidheart]

Des happens to be walking into the sitting room around the same time as Dante's peeking into one of the doors. He has the agitated look of a cat with its fur on end and he keeps glancing around like he's expecting something to crawl out of the walls and eat their hearts. Fucking fairies. He didn't even want to go to the damn party, but it was the only way he was going to get straight answers and-

Oh. He's not the only one in this room. He'd be lying if he said he didn't stalk keep tabs on everyone in the barracks- enough that he knows them by some clever nickname. In this case, Dante's known by the oh-so-clever moniker 'that white-eyed guy.'

...He's the only white-haired guy in the barracks. It works.

"See anything you like?" He calls, before crossing the room to the fireplace. There's a fire. As a man, Des is inclined to poke it with sticks until he feels less frustrated with the world.

[notalighieri]

"I dunno man, it lacks somethin' doesn't it."

Dante closes the door and turns around to give the other man a look. So, there are other people around -that's a start. That white-haired guy gives Des a slight sceptical yet amused look and appears strangely accepting of their situation. Waking up in closed-off fancy castle suits and looking for a mysterious gala party is totes perfectly normal.

He throws up his hands in a shrug. "With this décor you'd expect something like... I dunno," He crosses his arms and looks ceiling-wise as if lost in thought. Clearly this is an important issue. Then, in a flash of realisation he snaps his fingers and points at Des, "Oh, I know! Belly dancers! ... Or, harem girls." He ponders this for another second and thinks aloud, "Sexy faeries? Aren't faeries supposed to be pretty an shit?"

Eh, whatever. Back to the other guy. "You here for the party too?"

[aheromade]

And behind door number three...

Leaf opens the door and steps into the sitting room, glancing around warily. "I suppose I ought to expect this place to keep surprising me, by now." He takes a moment to size the other two up -- he's seen them around, he thinks? But he hasn't actually talked to either of them before.

But then the fireplace catches his attention, and he moves around to stand in front of it. This castle's already going to be warmer than the barracks, he's sure, but until his body catches up with his mind, the fire is looking very good right now.

[savesherself]

Emily was trying to sleep off her concussion. It wasn't easy when she was curled up on an old cot under a thin blanket in a badly insulated cabin. Suddenly finding herself here makes it basically impossible.

She lunges off the (much larger, much more comfortable) bed and heads immediately for the door, casting an uneasy glance at the slowly shifting image of a white rabbit crawling across the wall as she does. At least she can walk in a straight line and not fall down now. And she still has her gun. She's very grateful for both of those things.

She stops when she reaches the doorway, blinks at the sitting room for a second, and leans against the door frame with a little sigh. This is even weirder than waking up in the forest in the first place. "What now?"

[whateverthemess]

Now, Prentiss, there's the sound of something scratching at the door opposite your own. Accompanied by a constant low grumbling that sounds almost like an animal. Imagine that.

Murphy is annoyed. First, she's annoyed because she's wearing a collar and if it doesn't get taken off in the next .5 seconds now that they're in the stupid castle she's going to maul someone. Second, she has no thumbs and is tiny. Third, this door is not open.

"Damnit, Harry, are you out there?"

[savesherself]

Prentiss is deeply suspicious of everything in this place, and that scratching and grumbling from across the suite sets her on edge. On the other hand, she can't not investigate it. She pulls her gun and moves slowly across the room, trying to make as little noise as possible to alert whatever might be on the other side of the door. Paranoid, maybe, but she's been kidnapped and doesn't know how or why. Paranoia seems the way to go.

She pauses for a second outside the door, resting one hand on the knob, and takes a deep breath before yanking it open. She aims her gun at the first thing she sees inside, which... is... a cat.

...well, now she feels silly.

[whateverthemess]

"Mother of God, what is it with FBI agents?" The stab at the bureau is mostly to draw attention away from the fact that she's a startled, hair-on-end ball of fluff at the moment. At least Peter didn't actually pull his gun on her.

"I come in peace. Jesus, Mary and Joseph."