Invitation to a Masquerade

Aug 21, 2010 13:39

*Wherever you are, you have just received an invitation, and one carried by a large, darkly vivid butterfly.

One does humbly request the honor of your company at a masquerade ball, hosted by oneself.

RSVP unnecessary.

The butterfly knows the way.

If you choose to follow it - or if you missed the invitation and just stumbled upon things on your own - you find yourself being led into one of the largest barns in camp. The inside, however, is not a barn at all, but a vast ballroom. The decor is lavish, running to the baroque, with columns and statues and chandeliers, and the whole huge space filled with a hazy, surreal light.

Music comes from a musicians' balcony, though the players themselves are invisible.

Tables are heavily laden with food, particularly piles of summer fruit, and masked zombies circulate with trays of canapés and glasses of sparkling wine.

And you, finding yourself here, may also find yourself masked and elegantly dressed. The host is, it seems, enforcing the dress code. Even without the obvious displays, though, the magic would be obvious with anyone who can sense it. While not overtly threatening, the feel of demonic influence is heavy to anyone who can sense such things.

Stay for a dance?*

((It's a masquerade! That should be obvious. The food is safe, unless you don't want it to be, in which case have a blast. The alcohol, however, may be stronger than expected. Hatter is playing host, and will be circulating, though I may throw some of my others out as well. Fair warning: my connection is not playing nice with me today, so I may be slow.))
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