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The Ball of Winter Verve
Topic Started: Jan 23 2011, 01:11 AM (944 Views)
SemperMemor
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Majestic Space Duck
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Iridae to Kazrael

Amber eyes rotated in their sockets to stare at the approaching red Lightning and nearly snarled through the steak she had her jaws clamped around. Why couldn’t people just leave her in peace? Didn’t the buffoon see that she was eating in peace, in her own little corner? Her vision throbbed; thankfully, the mouthful of tender beef was enough to sate her desire to bite something. She gnawed it viciously, tearing off a chunk with her carnassials.

“I am enjoying myself to an extent, dear Talon.” She jerked her neck back and swallowed the hunk of meat, the piece large enough to be slightly visible as it passed down her narrow esophagus. Iridae coughed a couple of times to clear her throat before angling her head to stare up at him down the bridge of her nose. “Hungry and moody, but not too much of a change from the norm. Yourself?”


[align=center]---~--~---[/align]

Lyserg to Kairen, Larka, and Kestrel

Within a few moments of having boarded the Air dragoness, Lyserg found himself in a rather strange –to him- predicament. His face was hot with flushed embarrassment and it took all of his determination to not object. There were two elegantly dressed young women directly in front and behind him; any one of his former compatriots back home might have rolled in their skins to be in his tux, but not him.

Well, sort of.

He wasn’t used to having females around him save his mother, but that, again, really didn’t count. He’d never had a girlfriend, never invited one over to his house, and never really had any contact with the fairer sex of his own age. Sure, family friends and the like for professional things, but a real woman? By the Rider, he knew as much about things of this nature than he had about the underground social world of star-nosed moles. What was he supposed to do? He felt it best at this time to just keep his mouth shut and remain quiet for lack of a better idea. Lyserg turned his face downward and tried to concentrate on the rider’s warning about hanging onto Kestrel’s feathers.

Lyserg didn’t feel the With a strangled yelp, he instinctually grabbed onto whatever sat in front of him –in this case, Kairen’s waist- and held on with an iron grip. He had never flown on a dragon, or anything else, really, before. “Terribly sorry, miss!” Lyserg apologized quickly, a bit shakily. The notion of simply grabbing onto the handrails of the harness flew over his head. “I hope you don’t…uh…mind?”
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Zinc
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The Owl Waife
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Larka to Kairen, Lyserg, and Kestrel

Larka couldn't help but stare up at Kestrel as she was guided towards the Air Dragonness. She was beautiful and the apparel she had been decked out in made it all the more a magnificent sight. The thought occurred to her that quite possibly the other dragons would be in attendance and that they would be dressed accordingly for the ball as well. She had the faint and silly notion of wondering where the dragons were supposed to gather. As she boarded the air's back she looked around her, appreciating the view.

It was quite nice to be up at this height, though she was wearing a dress which made it a little awkward to sit. She never did have much of an appreciation for the things. But there was one thing she could appreciate right now, and that was watching the interaction between her roommate and the boy Lyserg. He seemed to make Kairen -Kairen the girl who had defeated a Razor, knew pretty much everything there was to know in Larka's eyes- a little bit hesitant...okay a lot hesitant. She smiled as she watched Lyserg settle in behind Kairen and in front of her, effectively blocking her view of her roommate.

As the Air took off, the breath whooshed out of Larka's lungs, making it impossible to yell out in surprise, though the feeling to yell was replaced by one to laugh as she saw that Lyserg had managed to attach himself around Kairen clinging to her instead of the handrails. Larka was currently hanging onto the handrails tightly, but felt in no danger. In fact, it was exciting flying on dragon back, and it was a experience she was glad that she hadn't missed.

Maybe it was a good thing Kairen had decided to force her into that dress after all.
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Seiss
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Gyrfalcon- geddit right bud, or you is food.
OOC [FOR BALUWAIFE but Dhruva is free for anyone to approach.]

There were simply some people who could not be denied- no matter how distant they were. Politics and its hassles. With the Monarch missing, preserving favourable relationships was becoming more important. Without them, he doubted the Academy would survive for long. There were originally two invitations- one for Basara, another for his sister. But since there could only be one, Basara had to take over, much to Asara's resigned exasperation, and bear an excuse that she was already long gone on duty to be able to attend. So it was the Talon who passed under the great arching stone and into the lush, elaborate gardens of Pavel Palace.

Basara was a man who preferred plain elegance, simple and refined. He dressed as such, with a black overcoat which had an angled, raised collar embroidered with golden threads at the edge. The fine scrolls shied onto the seams before flourishing again in as modest a flow as gold could be down his chest. He would have jumped, perhaps, if he hadn't noticed the dame to glide next to him and hooked her arm over his elbow, patting a manicured hand over the creamy silk of his shirt (thank Celestials for the matching black vest underneath) but then again, Asara was behind all this. “So, you've finally come. Why is it so hard, Bassy, to catch you at a time of celebration?” She pursed her rogue lips, a small frown of disapproval and indignation dawning on her young face. He resisted a sigh, tolerance etched onto his wry, monotonous expression that said he'd dealt with this before and was far from enthusiastic dealing with it again.

After dragging him about a quarter circle around the garden, Alevtina Santia Ivanova, niece to Lord Pavel finally left him alone to chat with noble ladies whose foreign dresses intrigued her. Basara retired towards an isolated table, resting a hand on its cold surface for a measure of relief. He should be out there, socialising and paying more attention to Pavel, but with so many guests, Asara's head was spinning. All this thinking could such an inconvenience.

His ride- Dhruva, oddly decided to join him tonight. The reason the dragon offered was 'to bail him out of trouble'. Basara had previously waved it off and assured the dragon he could take care of himself, but he appreciated it now. Who knows if he may need the Fire's help. He was one witout gold, without silver and without gems adorning his softly glowing body. His saddle was plain, though a more refined piece unlike the normal harnesses he would wear. While the others had moved closer to the palace, he remained quietly strolling the garden with careful steps at the edges, simply enjoying the marvel of human craft.

OOC [FOR TOXWAIFE and iz open]

She wanted to see human celebrations. Oh she had seen a few a long long time ago, but this was of a different age. A little naive perhaps, but Keres hoped that maybe this might lift a little of Omega's dislike for the humans. So she managed to convince him to come along (to Larguz's dismay sprouted from his possessive jealousy) and observe the humans' curious festivity. As garden plants. Pruned plants. Keres couldn't understand why a bush had to be placed in a squarish shape, or that a tree had to be restricted. She could see order, yes, in this garden just outside the bright building, but what did order have anything to do with nature?

For now, she arranged herself as close as possible to see through the doors, by a round garden table and disguised herself as a bush. Keres took extra care to cloak Omega as a conifer tree (an extra tall one) next to her. Larguz found it entirely amusing. He took on a more dignified shape compared to the Fire Qhek and his mistress- as a white cat. Though perhaps a strange one if one looks closely- he had no irises nor pupils. Strutting to the great Qhek's feet with tail raised, he cast the Qih-nzak a Cheshire grin. “At least you aren't a fountain, eh?” he taunted, referring to one of those white stone sculptures that had a naked woman position right at the centre of a small pool, with water sprouting from a vase she carried.

Keres hushed the feline. “Don't speak, Larguz.” And that, was that. Larguz sniffed, then padded delicately to lie inconspicuously at the foot of 'Keres bush'. “Are you comfortable, Omega?” floated quietly from the hedge to the tree.

OOC [FOR BLOO~]

Tonight would either bring him success, or drop him into an endless pit. He had always taken risks, tonight was no different. Except, perhaps, he had devised a trap for himself, too. At first, his reasoning for inviting Reyzha by using his deceased past family's name, had been to rely on her as a cover. Zan had yet to find the target he was after since the failed meeting with the Taints. But really now, was that the only reason? This was one serious pit.

What audacity he had, too, to take upon a family name he had snuffed and marred with his own hands? In truth, he had been thinking of taking it- what was once bestowed upon him. There was nothing left of the Zeichart now, save for him, their adopted son. Whether they hated him, or not, he always thought they did. No matter their judgement, he was loyal still, to his benefactor. The least he could do was revive Zeichart. But still it was all still a dream. A mercenary, and assassin- he couldn't possibly let his current work taint his past family. For a certain lady rider, perhaps it was a desperate, foolish way to show her that he was somebody. It wasn't a ruse, however, for he really did receive an invitation from a close friend of the Zeichart. How the nobleman found him, Zan didn't know. He would find out later... once the night is over.

He had instructed Morrigane, quite vehemently that she should staying the fields outside the stables if she didn't want to stay in a box. As for the Cerberi spawn, well that would be her responsibility, or he'd make it quite clear that he could cage the creature. Now with everything taken care of, he positioned himself where he could see the guests trickling in, in his deep blue overcoat. He had dressed (to his taste), perhaps too fine. Zan felt... expensive, especially with his duke blue vest with low, wheat rimmed collar laced loosely together with black string. Underneath was a white, long sleeved tunic out of soft linen. His sleeves, not overly billowing cuffed at his wrists.

Reyzha may or may not know the Zeichart in the letter was referring to him. After all, he never gave her his true name, or a full one at that. But he had left enough clues, just to help her along.
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