The Beaumont Ball [Player Event][CLOSED]

[El]

Raemi

So he was going to leave her side then...

A small tooth nipped at her lower lip as she fought to ignore the way her chest constricted. A wave of anxiety rushed over her, a pressure of dread riddling her thoughts. Suddenly the cold glow of shadows in her peripheral were not comforting nor magical any longer, they were stifling. Deceptive. Full of unknowns. Hiding masked faces with intentions she could never trust herself to decipher. The hands clutched at her heart tightened, grasping at each other for security.

But it would be selfish to let those feelings show. So Raemi smiled through the silent suffocation, the expression warm despite the discomfort behind it. Regardless of her initial feelings, this was a good thing. Carmine worked so hard to obtain even a glimmer of recognition, wingfeathers frayed from plucking at strings from dusk to dawn, his beak stuck dry and voice croaking when Raemi checked in on him only to realise he hadn't paused to drink either. This evening of praise - and opportunity - was well overdue. Then may it prove fruitful and bountiful. The withered curl of her fins relaxed, just a touch, as a quiet pride warmed her from within.

And then suddenly, an accident.

Albeit not one that terrible. A chime of quiet - and poorly withheld - laughter trilled up Raemi's throat at Carmine's assurance that he totally meant to do that. But even as she giggled at his expense she was already moving in to assist, crouching down with pale hands and many a colourful, tinkling tendril weaving through the puddle of rupees. With Carmine's wide wingspan and her many articulate ligaments, they made quick work of the mess. In no time at all the rupees were returned to his lute case. "No need to share, Carmie." The Zora dancer made sure to clarify. "Lady Beaumont has paid me plenty upfront. More than I already need really. Take these tips as yours alone! They're well deserved."

"Plus," She paused to look at him, an excited twinkle to her eye despite the veil which was draped over them. "-maybe this means we can get you those new strings you wanted...? The gold ones we spotted at that music store yesterday! There's a pretty amount here." The shrivelled raisin of a Hylian in charge had demanded what felt like an extortionate price for them at the time, but here, with all this, such a purchase didn't feel like a mere flight of fancy anymore. "...Though, well, if you still want to." Raemi quickly added, her punctuating laugh brittle and brief with discomfort when she realised how presumptuous her remark was.

Nonetheless, with the spillage attended to, she brushed past the Rito to the bench just behind him, collecting a cotton towel neatly folded upon it. As much as she and her scales disliked the fabric it was practically a necessity, especially tonight. Imagine actually managing to secure herself a dance partner for the Ball only to smear them with ink, spoiling their outfit AND their evening! Eugh. Her cheeks reddened at the thought. ...And even if the cotton fibres were almost painfully drying, at least they were initially soft to the touch.

"Give me just a moment and I'll walk in with you?" Raemi offered, carefully wiping down the largest and longest of her head fins. She frowned a little when she spied a few stains already emerging on the pristine white of the towel: she'd need to be thorough after all. "O-or... maybe not." A sigh deflated the splayed flare of her membranes. "Looks like I may need to ask one of the staff for some assistance. I'm not sure a towel is going to-... well..." Her hand froze mid-stroke, knuckles twitching.

...Maybe she just shouldn't try at all.

This was a lot of work. A lot of time. It wasn't really necessary, was it...? This wasn't her Ball, she was just a temporary contractor, and who was to say she'd manage to pipe up some confidence and greet some new people anyway? Yeah. It was unlikely. A silly thought really. Her stage wasn't inside the grand hall and her performance was over: she couldn't hide behind her art anymore, just like she couldn't pretend to be someone else for long.

She was out of her depth here.

"Actually... you go on ahead, Carmie." A tendril wrapped around her wrist as the hand constricted into a fist. With a tight smile she beamed at her Rito friend, "I could use a good drink and a bit more fresh air. I'll be in soon: promise!"

[AmJanky]

"Blunder!? Are you kidding?" Ashley slapped his hands to his cheeks as the gentle breeze around him blew away the leaves, "It worked so well, seeing you in this makes me incredibly happy."
He tittered around her excitedly gasping every here and there pointing at little details, the wand, the mask, the whole thing.

"I have sewn so many hidden pockets on that outfit." Letting the others in on that little secret was harmless enough, even though getting all the streamers and other hidden accoutrements in their place had been a chore and a half. The rest of the little secret was that he had sworn off ever making a transforming outfit again. Even so, having seen the effect now Ashley was beaming. Alyson pulled it off flawlessly.

"Pockets? Ash, are you mad, you don't give girls pockets!" Collin exclaimed and added more conspiratorially, "They might hide pamphlets."
"Well, clearly, these held glitter." Ashley pointed out, rolling his eyes in jest.
"Equally offensive." Collin held Alyson's gaze for a while, a sweet smirk and quick little wink from behind his mask to indicate he was very much playing.

"Hello Alyson," Axel butted in, picking a stuck bit of confetti from between a joint on his arm - despite Alyson's best efforts he was going to be finding pieces for the rest of the evening - "You look every part a hero! And since the opinionated man neglected to properly introduce himself, this is Collin. - An old acquaintance."
"And my uncle..." Ashley added with over-the-top dismay.

Before Collin could voice a 'Hey, now!' It was Mabel who announced her presence. When she had said her hellos with a drink for her brother and hugs for everyone - an extra big one for Axel, who had only just gotten out of Collin's armhold. Collin took a step back and put a hand to his chin, what he had thought to be a techni-coloured dream coat á la Ashley was in fact a costume.

"My goodness, the twins are twinning. Matching butt-capes and all."
"I love it," Axel equaled Ashley's excited trill, "but butt-cape does seem to be the only fitting description." He added under his breath - picking another glittery leaf from a fold on the cloth mask around his neck.


Both twins were wearing the same dress (or suit, or coat?), it was magnificently gender unspecific, elevating both their forms while playing with nonconformity. It wasn't just a costume either, but very much formal evening wear sprinkled heavily with a theme. And in true Ashley Fashion - as Alyson had already demonstrated his style of make to be - it was all colour.

Where three pink jewels configured in a triangle sat slightly askew on Ashley's head, there were three green ones mirrored on Mabel. Where the fabric was a deep blue/turquoise on him it was a dark red/terra-cotta colour on her. The fabrics weren't quite sure what colour to be primarily, given how vividly they reflected a different tone depending on where one stood and how it caught the light.

The base was simple black slacks and knee-high, heeled boots, where the drama started was at the rest; two horns adorning the shoulders, two smaller ones jutted from the low collar, where a black breastpiece was embroidered with long sharp slightly curved tapering lines from the top and bottom. The whole thing gave the impression of a wide open maw with needle-like teeth. Lined by the horns as if they were pincers.
Below the colourful shoulder and breastpiece was a wide belt - almost corset - that was segmented and insect like. Small conical studs - the same colours as the horns - adorned the sides.The fabrics of the coat and corsetry were glistening silks, like a bug's carapace - whereas the horns and spikes were matte.
The butt-cape (As Collin had lovingly named it), had similar coloured spikes hanging at every pleat, got ever narrower towards the end, where a large yellow crystal was embroidered to look three-dimensional and three last prongs made up the end. The front was left open to have the train flow as a tail.

And the drama wasn't even half done at the end of the cape; the sleeves started narrow but puffed out tremendously from the elbows to the wrists, made to rustle at every movement of the arms. A skittering sound that could make the hairs on the back of the neck stand up, when one wouldn't know the origin was just sleeves.

"You are both uncultured swine," Ashley twirled to show the details on the back, the back was cut even lower than the front, the belt fan-laced in equally glistening silk ribbons. "It is called a demi-train, and I'll have you know it took a ton of patterning to get it to fall right. The obvious choice - as my uncle here demonstrates -" Ashley expertly ignored the 'come-for-me-bro'-look he was thrown, and returned the favor with a 'you're-old-news-old-man',  "- would have been to go for the legends of the Gerudo tribe. Obviously their legendary twin witches... Instead I have pored over my dad's bestiaries to find us another twin."

"He went for bugs." Mable said, in a voice that didn't hide she didn't quite agree.
"I did concede to the stars and silvery details on you..." He clearly didn't quite agree with her choice either. "Also, Giant Imposing Dangerous Bugs."
"Children..." Collin shushed, he could hear every capital being pronounced in that last sentence, "You all look lovely. You'll all make lovely Queens of the ball. That means you too, Axel."


This time, before Axel could voice a 'Hey, now', the music slowly went dead, so went the excited chatter around the courtyard. Even their little group of family and friends stopped their squabble and titter to enjoy the next magical display.
The blupee that had been hopping around the mansion's rooftops moments earlier at the grand opening put to shame the to do that was the opening of the ballroom. The spiel was so grande it made a child cry.

What the gathered party were made to notice was the Beaumont Power Couple officially opening their ball with a to do, a smile and a dance. Their kid was as cute as a button in his robotic looking outfit, even though he completely broke off from his parent's theme.

What Ashley noticed was that his grand benefactor wasn't present, not that the was any of his concern, but he'd at least have liked to bump into her.

What Collin noticed was that with the opening of the doors at least half the guard left for the ballroom. A part of him once more wondered if they were exceptionally cautious for a reason, another assured him it was whatever. When Collin excused himself under the guise of getting another drink, Axel was quick to join him, leaving Ashley with his sister and Alyson.


"Whelp." Ashley shrugged, "Come on, girls! Let's score ourselves a dance partner!"
He offered the both of them an arm.

[El]

Ciel

In an upper floor room, not far from the ball...

...Frontlit by a full moon and low candlelight, a man leaned against a doorframe observing a young woman seated at her vanity. She was painting her décolletage now, aided by the enormous mirror before her and a dampened sponge, she peppered glitter across her porcelain-white skin - it clung there, with the damp sheen of chuchu jelly. At first glance this step seemed straightforward enough. But no. No, occasionally Ciel would pause, tilting her chin or raising a shoulder, observing carefully how the different angles of light affected her vision.

Impatience seethed through the man's lips, his head clunking to rest against the doorframe. "...Surely you're almost done?"

The princess did not respond, so naturally he rolled his eyes.

"It's a good job you're paying me a pretty rupee, little miss." Hefting himself upright, he prowled over to her, a sharp smile unsheathing as he caught her expression change. She was pouting now, her frown burrowing deeper the closer he got. That didn't stop him of course. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance? Help speed things up and all that."

The man leaned over her chair, slinking low to rest one elbow only for the other hand to begin delicately tucking loose ringlets into the obscurity of her elaborate headdress. It was art in itself, this piece, the crystalised network of glass and crystal aglow with midnight purple, clustered together to form a crown of horns. The widowpeak hairline framed an extensive eyemask made of rich black scales, faux eyelashes, luscious and frosty, exaggerating the little lady's already expressive eyes. Eyes which now glared at him. With a sharp sting she swatted his hand aside and huffed.

A tinge of annoyance flashed across the fox's wide mouth, yet it was quick to settle back into its toothy grin. He doubled-down, leaning both elbows now as he angled his head over her shoulder, catching her attention in their reflection. "You sure about this?" He whispered conspirately, voice rich with devilish humour. "This could go veeeeery wrong. Not that it's my problem of course, but as your contractor I have a duty to inform you again of the risks involved."

Now it was Ciel's turn to roll her eyes.

Oh please.

A talon-capped finger scrawled in light upon the mirror.

You're going to make me hurl.

The pink-haired fellow scoffed. Even below the golden fur of his eye mask she could see him cock an eyebrow, the back of her bared neck itching with annoyance. Why a Keaton anyway? Pft, honestly, this man was SO full of himself.

Sure he looked great in his sumptuously decadent robe, the striking black patterns and the gold-to-ivory gradients complimenting his physique and lightly tanned skin well. And the three-tailed tie of his roped sash was clever, cinching in his waist with a dramatic flair, almost as obnoxious as the clinky-clacks of his geta whenever he sauntered after her. And yes... the curved eyes of the mask with its sharp nose and pricked ears were oddly a very appropriate reflection of the man's aggravating humour. ...But weren't Keatons supposed to be all-knowing magical creatures? Illusive and beautiful beasts. Omnipotent.

Ciel clicked her tongue.

But Seiran wasn't watching her anymore, his gaze had drifted to the open window where sheer curtains fluttered in the evening breeze. The full moon blazed in all its uninterrupted glory. "Well whatever," The Sheikah acquiesced. "Your Time IS drawing near now, so I guess I can understand the more reckless than usual attitude. Besides-"

He titled his chin back towards the Beaumont princess and gleamed that irritatingly dazzling grin again, "-I'm always up for some fun. Especially PAID fun with a whole crowd to shock. No backsies though, OK? I don't do refunds."

As if I'm that cheap.

Seiran cackled, wrapping his arms around her in one big, snug, far too hot hug, only to add insult to injury and rub their cheeks together! The adoration was abhorrently saccharine, riddling Ciel's skin with goosebumps. "Right right!" He purred. "You're anything but! I dare say if I perform well there's even bonuses up for grabs, hrm~? Y'know it's not just your rep on the line, I- OWWWW!!! THE FUCK??!!!"

Ciel knew his weakpoint.

She tugged on it now with a devious little grin of her own, struggling to bite back her giggle of victory as he writhed. It might've been well-hidden by his mask, but it was still very much there, attached oh so firmly around his ear.

"RUDE!!!" Seiran snapped, snatching her by the gloved wrist and yanking it away: even through the leather-encased silk she could feel his calloused palms. The palms of an experienced swordsman - or a bloodthirsty psycho. "And ballsy as fuck!" He added, peeved but oddly tickled, even as a hiss of easing pain warped his lips into a snarl. "And they call me a sadist. I could DIE if you're too rough."

Yet Lady CiCi simply shrugged,

Shouldn't have provoked me then.

-And resumed applying the finishing touches of her make-up, with more work to do now that he'd just MESSED some of it up! 

"...You're way too comfortable with me, Petty Princess." Sulked the fox, after a long moment's pause. He withdrew in defeat, the movement punctuated with a huff. Hands upon his hips he glared down her incredibly long routine, biting back further remarks. As a result, Ciel became even more comfortable, assured in her victory until-

A cry erupted from her throat.
Her world spun until the yelp exploded into a scream, her sponge promptly dropped to the floor.

She was on his shoulder now, hefted over it like a sack of potatoes!!! THE AUDACITY!!!

"Shouldn't have provoked me then." Seiran echoed with a guffaw of delight. She punched at his back and even attempted to kick him in the crown jewels, but he was prepared - and his grip tight! So instead the best Ciel could do was hold onto her headdress and hope her ensemble stayed intact.

"Or maybe you should've sucked it up and asked that Sword you found to accompany you instead, eh?"

Ciel hissed but Seiran cackled, meandering out of the dressing room to finally make their way towards the ball. He'd set her down before their grand entrance of course, but for now he enjoyed having his power back: a golden fox carrying away a freshly-caught black dragon with all bite and no bark! 

[Emily]

A shift in the air, almost like a distant sound, caught Ariadne's ear. She shifted her head slightly, eyes darting to the side, and heard the distant rattling echo. Her costume- such as it was- seemed to release a sound that wasn't altogether unpleasant to hear, but not what she would have expected. But what of the echo? A distant connection? No, that wasn't it, there was something else. Something strange that she could feel in her eyes and the roof of her mouth. Had she drank something? No, but- now that was interesting, there was a slight pull toward a nearby tray on top of which sat several sparkling drinks. There was a strangely hypnotising element to the party. And even more interesting than that, the effect was subtle. She hadn't been standing there long, but it was long enough to notice.

Was it on purpose? There was a buzz behind her eyes, gentling her mind. Ariadne was used to her thoughts travelling at a rapid pace, jumping between concepts and ideas, losing track of her place in books because her mind was fixated on a puzzle. But now, as the music swirled together with the lights and the gentle chatter of her surroundings, the wind in the trees and the rhythmic splashing of the water in the fountain, she realised there was definitely some effect going on with this party. And it slowed her thoughts down. She had been paying attention to fine details, her mind sticking to moments long enough to comb through them in an attempt to understand the underlying purpose. And she wondered if it might be on purpose. After all, having people relax and happy was a net benefit to any party environment, especially one as high-stakes and high-profile as this one.

Her eyes moved from the shifting colours of the fountain to the perfectly patterned pitter-patter of the water as gravity took over, to the smiling and conspiratorially-quiet wait staff, and finally to the perfect grace of the Zora spinning atop the fountain structure itself. The music that seemed to emanate from all around somehow mixed perfectly with the strumming of the nearby Rito, providing an excellent support structure for the music. And even stranger yet, that water provided an appropriate percussive backing for the entire piece. This entire estate was music. Fascinating! And at the centre of it all was the dancer, almost seeming to control the music in the same way she controlled the space. As she sped up in her movements, there was a subtle pull on the music to up the tempo; as she slowed, it did as well. There was a true artistry and grace to the performance.

As her mind remained entirely preoccupied, her costumed body created an intimidating presence, a mostly-silhouetted, horned creature clad in fragrant grasses, with glowing red and gold eyes. Her head hung slightly to the side, eyes unfocused on anything in front of her due to the overwhelming nature of her thoughts. The only thing that brought her out, as she began to travel in circles, feeling energised by a puzzle and then questioning of that energy came from the puzzle's source, was a sudden hail. She started, a slight jerk setting off another whisper of rattling throughout the grasses and herbs that hung from her. "Oh," she blinked once, twice, and then broke out in a huge grin, shattering the illusion. "Claria! Hi!" Suddenly, brain empty and happy times abound. Her friend was here!

"This old thing?" she looked down at her outfit and swooshed it a bit, side to side. She had never been one for skirts or dresses, but it was kind of fun when the entire thing had a function. "New year, new me, you know how it is. I thought, haven't I had enough of the snow and horses and mountains? Why not become a spooky swamp creature?

"Seriously though, it's absolutely lovely to see you! I can't believe you got hired on as a guard here! How many secret scandals of the high and mighty have you uncovered?"

Ariadne had made a few friends at Rito Village during her apprenticeship there. The Rito, much like her family, were warm and welcoming as long as you were willing to put in some work. Her time there had felt like a summer camp, where she could relax and enjoy the time she had with the people around her. She kept in touch with some of the Rito, mostly through letters. Her time in Zora's Domain had, by contrast, been straining and stressful. There was an expected formality and deliberateness that she couldn't easily match, and she felt the people around her had been somewhat cold and unwelcoming. The one exception had been Claria. Claria had always made a point to check in on Ariadne, to bring up interesting topics of conversation or bring gifts to cheer her up after bad days. They had hiked all around the Domain, which had been a lovely experience every time.

Letters were a difficult thing for Ariadne. She wasn't a particularly experienced or comfortable writer, and often went on strange tangents at the least opportune times. She had learned to measure her speaking cadence somewhat, so at least she could complete thoughts before moving onto something else, but it wasn't as easy in a form that required a slower pace. As far as she knew, Claria would receive her letters and they would be some sort of incomprehensible series of unrelated words, totally impossible to decipher a message from. But it still felt nice to receive messages from her friend, and to send something in reply. There was something about it, a physical heft, a sense of friendship and purpose. It felt purposeful in a way most conversations didn't.

After an unfortunately short conversation, a prickle of recognition descended along her spine as Ariadne became aware of the hypnotic signifiers bleeding away. Wait, that's right, there were hypnotic signifiers! She had gotten swept up in it as soon as she had been chatting with Claria. But now that she was aware of it again, she realised how well it had been working. She had been experiencing nothing but simple bliss during the conversation, the warm feeling of reconnecting with an old friend. Now she had to wonder how much of it was chemically manipulated. If it had been anyone but Claria, she might be suspicious, but nah, this was pretty normal.

"Are you coming inside, or do you have obligations elsewhere?" she asked, admittedly somewhat nervous about the answer. Crowds were a lot to deal with at the best of times.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Well, at least the mishap had amused Raemi, distracting her from her anxious state if only for a few seconds. With a little smile at his friend's giggle, Carmine set about sweeping up the scattered rupees with his wingtips, as her many tendrils snaked in and out of the mess. Between the two of them, it was only a matter of seconds before all the rupees were returned to the case.

"Nah, let's be honest, that was your performance there," he replied. "You've earned these! Use 'em to make a wish of your own come true!" Holding each gem up to the nearest lamp to discern the colour and squinting, Carmine divided them into two equal piles. As tempting as those golden lute strings sounded, it was only fair that Raemi should have this reminder that people had indeed appreciated the show, that the hours upon hours she'd put into rehearsing until her membranes had drooped and she'd limped from exhaustion had paid off.

Placing half the earnings into his rupee pouch, Carmine nodded in her direction as she asked him to give her a moment. He inwardly cringed for her when she tried to wipe away the decorative body ink, only to leave dark smears all over the towel, its surface too small and its fabric too thin to be of much use. In the dim lighting, he couldn't quite make out her expression, but could imagine it all too well as she sighed, her words hushed and faltering.

"Actually... you go on ahead, Carmie."

He stood from his crouch, glancing from the wide open doors to Raemi, and shook his head. Joining the musicians inside could wait, as much as his anticipation of the moment he'd get to do so had grown by the day. "There's no rush. I'll be good to go when you are." He peered through the darkness, looking out for any lingering servants who could offer assistance.


Laughing off the glitter accident, Alyson twirled so Ashley could examine his creation, her ostentatiously frilled coat flaring and fluttering. "Spreading joy is all part of a Feyranger's duty!" And that joy was clear on her fellow artisan's face as he explained how hard he'd worked to implement such dramatic effects. As busy as he'd been lately, he deserved to take pride in the fruits of his labours.

At the ensuing jokes, she gave another chuckle. "The more glitter at this kind of event, the better!" Even if they'd all be finding errant sparkly leaves for the next few weeks. She beamed at Axel, who seemed resigned to such a fate as he plucked a leaf from his arm joint. "Thanks! And nice to meet ya, Collin!" Her eyes flicked towards the older, blue-haired man.

Before the twins' uncle could reply, a familiar voice piped up, another figure joining the reunion in a blaze of colour. "Oh hey Mabel!" Alyson waved to her friend, who approached with drinks. Save for the shimmering stars in her hair, Mabel wore a costume nigh-identical to Ashley's, bearing the same horns, segmented corset, trio of eye-like head gems, and tapering train reminiscent of a tail - or "butt-cape" as Collin and Axel had so eloquently put it. The only difference was in the colour, the rustling fabric a deep garnet-red that shifted to a copper tone in the lamplight, in contrast to Ashley's midnight blue getup with its turquoise glimmers. Undoubtedly his idea.

Alyson's grin spread wider as Ashley leapt to the defense of his patterning choice, insisting on calling it a demi-train. "Eh, butt-cape sounds snappier, don't you agree?" Her mischievous gaze darted to Collin and Axel for a second. Oh the things the twins had to put up with, from both her and each other.

Just as she'd expected, it had been Ashley's suggestion to theme themselves after another pair of twins - specifically, twin bugs. Alyson raised her wand once more. "Ha! Giant Imposing Dangerous Bugs are no match for the Feyranger of Wind!"

Her dramatics paled in comparison to the orb of light welling at the estate doors, fairies drifting and converging into it from all over the courtyard. She shielded her eyes as a dazzling explosion swallowed up the illusory Blupee that leapt towards it. The light faded to reveal doors thrown wide open, an invitation to the opulent and sparkling scene within.

"Come on, girls! Let's score ourselves a dance partner!"

Securing the wand at her belt, Alyson let Ashley wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan! Let's go!"


Ariadne appeared lost in her thoughts, enchanted by the whimsical scenery in quite a literal sense. It was only upon being addressed that she jolted from her trance, greeting Claria in turn with a wide grin, the dried herbs around her waist rattling as she proudly swished her "spooky swamp creature" outfit.

"How many secret scandals of the high and mighty have you uncovered?"

A soft hum of a laugh issued from Claria's throat. "None yet," she replied, with particular emphasis on that last word, "but the night is young." It wasn't often she showed a relaxed, jokey side, yet Ariadne had a way of bringing that out.

In truth, she hadn't expected to see her friend at such an extravagant event. Ariadne had quickly tired of the formal mannerisms and clipped tones in Zora's Domain, the social expectations draining her as much as the work had. She'd much preferred the leisurely walks they'd shared around the mountains and wetlands, opportunities for her to unwind and forage medicinal algae, over any grand gathering that left both of them on the fringes. Yet the jollity of the atmosphere here, with people of various races and backgrounds mingling, was a change from all that rigid etiquette, and Claria hoped Ariadne would be made to feel more welcome than she previously had.

In any case, the two of them would make this less awkward for each other. It lifted Claria's spirits to know she wouldn't be alone in a crowd after all, keeping guard over the scene from a distance rather than being a part of it. As much joy as the letters brought, chaotic and genuine in their recounting of random events, they didn't compare to reuniting with her friend in person.

It was with a note of nervousness that Ariadne asked if she'd be coming inside. "Well, I'd make a rather poor shadow guard out here," Claria answered, surreptitiously pointing out the horned figures lurking in the darkest corners. Some remained stationed, while others trickled through shadows of hedges and walls towards the estate, somehow making nary a sound despite their heavy platemail. "Besides," she whispered, lips quirking up at the corners, "those secret scandals of the high and mighty won't uncover themselves."

[El]

Raemi

Raemi sometimes wondered what she'd done in a past life to earn a companion like Carmine. The comforting glow of his loyalty was as warm as his crimson-feathered chest, always ablaze, ever present, a flame which surely had attracted more than just her...? And yet, it was with her that he remained - even despite her encouragement otherwise. And now, now he was taking it a step further, his lush-green eyes scouring their surroundings in search of further aid.

Despite her better judgement and its oddly-twisted pangs, the Zora found herself smiling. But this would not do. While she appreciated the Rito's sentiments, she could not stomach the thought of stealing away any more of his opportunities - especially tonight. It seemed there would be only one way to placate him: she'd need to take action herself.

"Thinking about it... didn't Lady Beaumont mention there being lavatories? Inside, I mean." Raemi clutched the dirtied towel to her chin in thought, head slightly askew to tumble loose the recent memories. "I imagine there must at least be some hand basins available. Water is what I need really."

The fountain glittered in her periphery, eliciting an awkward little giggle as she clarified - despite it not needing to be said - "Water that we're actually permitted to use. Goddesses forbid I make a mess out of this beautiful garden!" There was ALSO a high chance she'd make a right mess of the inside basins too, and end up having to inform the staff for assistance after the fact anyway. ...But Raemi decided to omit that little detail. That'd be her issue to deal with, not Carmie's.

Nonetheless she neatly folded up her soiled towel and tucked it below their bench to collect later. Despite Carmine's efforts in meticulously sorting their earnings she still insisted that he hold onto her half - if only for now. (She wasn't sure her little coin purse could even contain them!) Then, without further ado, she ushered the Rito inside with her.

...Well, tried to.

Her habitual familiarity got the better of her in that moment, the slide of her arm to hook around his wing coming to an abrupt and incredibly awkward halt - a mere SECOND before the damage was done! She recoiled. She cringed. Only for that brief flicker of wide-eyed panic to quickly deepen into annoyance. Raemi pouted. Yet, even while the tinkling rush of the fairy fountain drowned out her grumble, and her sparkling veil masked her embarrassed blush... NOTHING could've hidden the way she clumsily jerked her rescinded hand to instead scratch at an earfin. ...-Only to catch a nail on some of her jewellery and tangle herself within it! Eugh. Smooth.

"WOW it's getting hot out here, huh." The dancer rambled as she quickly speedwalked ahead.

It was not hot. In fact,  the ballroom would be far warmer.

–--

Events unfolded pretty much as Raemi had expected - and feared. Yet despite her flustered apologies the staff stationed outside the lavatories took the news with calming grace. Initially she offered to assist them in the clean-up - it only felt right to! - but even that was turned aside, sweet and professional assurances persuading her to leave the task to them.

Eugh. She should've prepared for this. Prepared better.

Letting slip a sigh Raemi emerged back into the bustling and colourful crowds of the ballroom. Many other couples, friends and families had joined the Beaumonts upon the floor, swirling an extravaganza of fabric across pristine marble. Even their footfalls, with their clinking heels, tapping talons, stomping boots, stumbling childrens' sandals and sliding scales, had a rhythm of their own once united, their shared joy contributing to the energising jig the musicians now performed.

Was that what it was? Excitement? The dancer's chest fluttered, a tightening but not entirely unwelcome tickle flaring through her veins. She bit at her lip as her gaze moved past the busiest part of the crowd to instead observe and search the remaining bystanders. There were bog witches and Malice-infected, elaborate costumes which shone like rainbow carapaces, a feathered and frilled suit that reminded her of children's tales, brightbloom motifs in some and mysterious Wizzrobe(?) themes in others. Even the outfits Raemi couldn't quite identify she still enjoyed, her imagination ablaze as it sparked with guesses and delight. ...Though her mouth did quirk into a wry little smile when she noticed a few who chose a more-... minimal approach.

That wasn't why she was looking though - not to guess stories. As fun as that was (and she could do it all night!) she was, to put it mildly, instead trying to identify an appropriate target. As very easy as it'd be to cower in a dark corner somewhere until the night passed her by, Raemi had PROMISED - both herself and Carmine! - that she'd meet some new people today. Maybe make a few friends. Potentially find a-...

The Zora cleared her throat.

Anxiously her slender fingers picked at the bracelets strung about her other wrist, clutching at herself for emotional support only to wring the jewellery with agitated anxiety. How did the heroines do this again? Raemi recalled 'fainting spells' being a popular trope... but she wasn't confident she could pull that one off convincingly - and safely. There were other instances of dropping a fan or glove at their target's feet when they passed them by... of which she had neither. Quite a few times there were accidental collisions too, a spilled glass of wine, a jerked shoulder, or a tripped hem... but they could easily be received VERY badly. 

So that only really left her with...

...Oh no.

..........OH dear, ohno, ohgoddesses, o-oh-... Oh. There was nothing for it was there? Raemi would have be direct. That's it. Just ask. Go up to a stranger and ask for a dance. Yep. That simple. That easy. Just channel some inner 'badass bossbabe' and put DOWN some authority!!! BE CONFIDENT! BE SASSY! TAKE THE INITIATIVE TO MAKE THEM SWOON!!!

...

Raemi buried her face in both hands, swallowing back a high pitched squeal-squeak of distress.

...Then a moment later the fingers parted, her veiled gold eyes peeping through the gaps to observe the crowds once more. She didn't need to go for someone flashy, right? Right. And there was no need to approach the more closely-clustered groups who were already arm-in-arm. Right! Sooo... Hmn. That still left her with quite a few options, so in the end Raemi stopped thinking - and overthinking - and began walking, making the decision based purely on gut feelings.

She would not trip over her feet.
She would not cause a collision.
She would not allow her heart to thunder ANY LOUDER.
She would be calm, collected, demure, mindful- 

"AH!!!"

A taloned toe betrayed her! The world spun! FORWARDS Raemi dove until a desperate hand reached out to grab the burly bicep of-...

...

...Actually Raemi didn't know what that was. Amour...? No. No, but it was most certainly metallic, inorganic. And not at all a bicep in form. Potentially it was robotic though it was definitely a limb of some descrip-

"OH MOONS, I'M SO SORRY!!!" Raemi screeched, mortified as she flinched back upright and promptly released the guardian-tech prosthetic. "IS IT OK?! ARE YOU OK?!" Her hands slapped up to her burning cheeks, though she felt her heart sink into her stomach with dread as her eyes scoured over his Sheikah garb to the 'arm' instead. Panic quickly dissolved into concern, softening her voice with fraught despair as she babbled on- "I didn't yank anything or hurt you, did I? Do we need to do anything? Do I need to do anything? Should I go call for help? Do you need a seat? Do I-... I..."

A bubble of breathless, broken laughter tickled at the back of her throat. Inappropriate, Raemi. Now her hands slapped over her mouth instead, veil and all. But though the laughter almost did stop, her rambling most certainly didn't. "I was actually going to ask you for a dance but... this doesn't bode well for your feet does it? Haha..." Somehow the cave of her folded hands made those words echo, rather than muffle them.

Great.

...Raemi whispered a silent prayer to Carmine.

Though, no! No she SHOULD NOT! She would not tempt fate by summoning him with desperate cries! No. Maybe she'd try performing a fainting spell after all.

[Rex Draco]

The Zora held no interest towards the bird, not with such a tasty treat present. He wasn't sure if it had been the master to put the servants up to this, but attempting to lure guests into commingling was not only catty, but tacky. The male dipped the silver spoon into the shaven ice. If the metal utensil lingered long enough he could feel the sensation between his fingers as they tightly clutched the delicate tool. It was not an uncomfortable feeling and was almost soothing when he was left having to deal with the warm layers of his costume. Though he was not yet baking thanks to the cool respite of the evening, he still found himself heating up under the layers of cotton and linen. He scooped up a heaping mound of flavoured ice onto the dip of the spoon before carrying it to his mouth, allowing it to rest on the flat of his slender tongue for a moment before rolling the muscle in order to slide the treat down his gullet.

Though he wore a mask, it was parted as such so that it allowed his mouth to be on full display. It was only his eyes and face that were hidden so it was hard to discern his expression save for the passing cat-slit pupil that occasionally passed the half-crescent 'smiles' that served as the mask's eyeports. Arcade spoke of the games servers liked to play in the houses of the rich, but he had his doubts that it was a joke. He has been at the tail end of peoples 'practical jokes', and he was often left bereft of humour, dryer than a Guay in the middle of a desert. He put it aside for now.

The bird had a strange way about him. He talked and moved like any person, but he had never seen anyone with a beak, let alone wings. It was a first for him, but he was sure the man was not the only of his kind or else he'd be a spectacle among the gaudily dressed dancers and other patrons of the Beaumont's brigade. Though he didn't ask the feathered fellow pontificated on his outfit. The Zora had heard many speak openly of the Calamity, while others shied away from the cataclysmic topic with good reason, yet this man stood with a straight spine explained away his artistic rendition of terror and death incarnate, at least according to the people.

The Zora did not answer the Rito, not with a full mouth anyway, and he indeed made sure his mouth was full. Spoonful after spoonful he ate away at the juicy, ice shaven treat before setting it back with the servant. He raised his head at level with the Rito's gaze, though he appeared to be leaning heavily on his left leg if one was so inclined to read his body as he moved to fold his arms behind his back, the robes flowing over his scaled skin like shed leaves.

"Hm." He mused. "I know little of this Calamity beyond the rumors and tales of wandering journeymen. If such documents exist, I will, in time, look them over to better learn of this event that seems to stir nightmares in the common man and —" He looked Arcade up and down. "Admiration in others." His tone was distant, as if merely speaking in the Rito's direction. All the while, his eyes beneath the mask were turned to the side, leaving Arcade bereft of any of the pressure one felt when weighed down by another's gaze. The man had no desire to interact it seemed or he perhaps sought to treat the Rito as an insignificant piece on the board.

His thoughts were elsewhere, swimming around the guests that flowed into through the gates. What was their worth and did they too have appetites bound to them like this fathered fellow? A thought came to him, one that fluttered in the back of his mind while Arcade regaled him on his ensemble.
     
"Tell me... if you could become a Calamity, would you?" His eyes drifted searched for a certain person, one he had on his mind for days now, but they had yet to fall to that fate. For now he would linger in hopes that important figures would be foolish enough to meander into the masquerade.

[Chaosome]

Arcade cared little if someone had an interest in him or the topics he brought to the fore. If anything there was often something to be said for the lengths that one might go to as to avoid being intellectually challenged or even merely engage in conversation. In lieu of being able to escape due to proximity or societal norms, they will find something in which to bury their attention and focus. A particular piece of art, a distant piece of nature... a meal. The Rito cast a sidelong glance at the peculiar Zora before throwing yet another look towards the staff that had helped set up this... meeting. It was fortunate that he hadn't anywhere to be for this seeming waste of his time. It was moments like that he knew was likely the sanest man in the room.

Still though, he waited. Social pressure weighed heavy on many, one could only stuff their gullet for so long before the plate ran dry and they were left in the gap of oppressive silence fueled by their own failure of communication. Some reveled in that silence, others crumbled under that pressure. The Zora seemed, at least at first glance, one not unused to being pushed into conversations or action. But the question and curiosity remained: would he slip away into the crowds or actually attempt to partake in the daunting task of Small Talk?

The man stood still in the relative silence, eyes and 'eyes' gazing about the gathering and those milling and mingling about. The din of idle chatter and polite laughter, the trips and stumbles, the graceful dances and longing glances. So many things that could go entertainingly wrong, it's why he even bothered to care about such gatherings. Eventually though it seemed the Zora's meal had ran out and he deigned to speak once more. The bird's gaze trailed back and looked him in the eyes as he spoke. "I've little doubt that such documents do, indeed, exist. But much easier it would be to ask those who lived through it. Such as the Queen and her little swordsman." he answered in return. He recognized when the fish's gaze trailed off. He felt no pressure in stares or glares either one. he registered the Zora's seeming disinterest.

And yet he carried on still, of his own free will. It was amusing that one so disinclined to socializing would proverbially flagellate themselves to continue a conversation that wished to be no part of. He even posted a question, one of actual merit and consideration. One that actually earned a laugh from the Rito. "Now that is a golden rupee question, is it not? Perhaps to some I already am? A Calamity is a catalyst of change, a time in which all mortals are pushed to their extremes. In that cacophony there are no lengths to which some may not go to survive, to thrive in such upheaval. It's then that nature and nurture may be thrown to the wayside and an unpredictable instinct may rise to the surface. Those new and fascinating outcomes. Heroes falling to banditry in panic, marauders turning to charity in light of destruction. The things one would never expect often come to the surface in such circumstances."

Arcade stared out over the crowd as he spoke, wondering just what morals and laws that they would 'never' break would be shattered when faced with true disaster? "So in that way? Yes. Perhaps I already am. I challenge what people know or think they know, and at times it has unexpected results. Some are still unfurling even now. To me, it's truly fascinating. Regardless of what any think."

[Emily]

For whatever reason, Ariadne had assumed that the outdoor portion of the party would continue, even after the interior of the estate was opened up. She found the fountain and bar setup out here to be intoxicating in more ways than just the obvious, and -possibly- magically enhanced to boot. The realisation that this was the temporary part of the party, extravagant as it was, shook her. Then again, after thinking about it for a second, most people wanted to make a good first impression when they met a new person, and perhaps for the excessively wealthy that involved hors-d'oeuvres, fanciful drinks, and a Zora that seemed to control the music by dancing on a multicoloured fountain.

And besides, it made her happy to find that her friend, somehow the only person at this entire party she knew by name despite all her travels and all the people she had met in her training over the past few years, was going to be accessible even once they entered a new space. "Great point," she conceded, glowing eyes somehow seeming a little brighter. "Shall we, then?"

And so they entered the next phase of the party. Ariadne, who, it can't be stressed enough, was raised in a high-top tent-like structure exposed to the frigid Tabantha nights, though she commonly referred to it more simply as being raised in a barn, couldn't fathom the wealth on display in this place. And so quickly! She had been on the trail to Zora's Domain before Castle Town's reconstruction began. It was a terrifying reminder of money's expediency to see the finely detailed architecture in what was surely an unlikely amount of time. Oh Hylia, what if it wasn't an unlikely amount of time, but she had been away for longer than she thought?

Better not to think about that. She shook her arms a bit to get the nervous energy out, and looked around. The marble flooring, the bright colour of the tapestries, the perfect costumes of every single person there. While Ariadne always felt out of place, this was one of the first moments tonight that she felt like she shouldn't be here. The appearance of the extravagant- okay, she'd used that word far too many times and had to stop before it lost its meaning- resplendent count and countess sent her outside of her own body. What? Everyone here in their magic costumes, and the Beaumonts appear as the dragons?! Then again, what better to be to show yourself as above the rest of the people here?

She muttered "Quite fancy, aren't they?" as much to herself as to Claria. And that's when her eyes found little Arthur, theoretically the only of the three she would recognise from the Yule event in Hateno were he not a little robot boy, she stifled a laugh, a quiet snort. Okay, now that was great. Was he one of those giant box creatures she had heard of, the ones in the sky, linked together by energy? Now that was a costume she could support.

Once the dancing started, Ariadne found herself bemused. This was a similar feeling to what she'd had at Zora events, back at the Domain. She had, naturally, never learned how to dance. The expectation that she would either fumble around with someone and embarrass them both, or else take time out of her lessons to take other lessons on something that didn't really interest her in the first place, was unthinkable. She had instead spent her time at the official functions standing along the wall, glowering at the collected masses. Much like with magical healing, they had learned how to do this as children, and scoffed at the idea that someone could be so uncivilised as to not know complicated ballroom dancing steps by heart. Bah.

"Are you allowed to have a drink, or is it all business tonight?" she asked Claria. As drinks were on the house tonight, she was interested in trying something strange for herself. She had also had a glimpse of the bartender, and found the costume perplexing and wanted to ask what was going on there.

--

Sable watched with amusement as the crowd filtered into the manor. The people had been properly dazzled and subdued not only by her fabulous drink-making abilities, but the general tone and tenor of the establishment. She had to admit, it was amazing to see what had been done with the place- she thought she had done a lot with the Roost, but there was finely-crafted marble flooring and magically-assisted greenery in full flower already. Super swanky place. And it was sick to be paid to be here, with the ability to subtly advertise her own bar.

When they'd asked her to come up with drink ideas, Sable's eyes had sparkled. While it was still too early to introduce too many new and strange drinks into her own location, she had created some crazy things and tried them out in small batches. She had been in the business of drinkmaking even before the Upheaval, though that event had led her to Gerudo Town originally. The introduction of so many new fruits and ingredients had been a game changer, especially given their inherent magical properties. While a banana might make someone swing a weapon a little harder, a fire fruit would literally catch fire to something nearby if it were handled without care. So her drinks had, naturally, been made with excessive care.

First was the Thunderstorm, a drink built around the shock fruit. With a dark, frothy ale at the base, the foam up top roiled and moved around. Occasionally, flashes of bright gold appeared around the edges of the glass, complete with popping and muted crackling sounds. It was a heavy-bodied drink, and left the mouth tingling with citrus notes afterward.

Then there was the Blupee, the only new drink tonight that didn't feature a Zonai-era ingredient. A simple and elegant drink, the Blupee was, naturally, a powder blue cocktail in a champagne flute. A sprig of mighty thistle was served in the drink, emulating the horns of the magical rabbit. The drink had a strong taste of palm fruit and hydromelon, a sour flavour that gave way to a light sweetness after a moment. And, of course, a small blue rupee sat at the bottom of every glass. It wasn't the most out-there or exciting drink, but the Blupee was thematic and specifically requested by the estate, and she was happy to oblige.

Another was Dinraal's Flame, a red and gold cocktail with a small amount of whiskey, fire fruit juice, and various flavoured liqueurs including cinnamon, chocolate, and orange. When jostled, the drink would appear to have flames rolling through it, and steam would come off the top. The flavour profile was meant to have some spice, but an undertone of sweetness to properly balance out the discomfort and allow the drink to, in the end, still go down smoothly. It would stay on the tongue and back of the throat for minutes afterward, giving the feeling of a smokiness that the drink itself didn't have.

Next was Naydra's Wisdom, a blue and silver cocktail.  Made with ice fruit, vanilla, and mint, it was shaken with ice to provide all the chill of Mount Lanayru. It sparkled in the glass, like stark sunlight on the ice and snow, and while smooth, felt freezing in the mouth. This drink was intended to have a heavy sweetness, almost as if it contained a cream base, but instead of a sugary or creamy aftertaste, it would remain cold.

Finally, Fyrosh's Wind was a light, airy drink, fizzy with bright greens and yellows.  With a lime ring on its lightly-salted rim, it was a refreshing blend of various juices with a kick. Ironically, despite being the most flavourful of the drinks, it was also the most dangerous. The alcohol content was higher to assist in balancing the flavours, which ended up getting people who drank too many of them quite drunk. Which, while fine for a pub, wasn't necessarily the ideal outcome for a high-class event like this one.

If she'd had waaaaaay more rupees to work with, Sable had considered adding in a magical effect where images of the actual dragons rose from the top of their respective drinks, flew around the glass, and then submerged once more. She considered learning magic- well, more magic- in order to accomplish this on the cheap, but even that would cost time and effort she couldn't spare until her business had its wings. So, for now at least, she was hoping people would order some of these silly drinks and come to the Roost afterward for more.

On top of her own creations were, of course, a wonderful mix of classic drinks normal for parties of this calibre, and newer creations she hadn't heard of. These included the Goron Spiced Ale, Noble Pursuits, the Monster Cocoa, and of course th Chateau Romani. Everything, including Sable's mad concoctions, were available in non-alcoholic varieties, though the flavours wouldn't work in quite the same way.

Once the last guest had disappeared into the doors, her eyes flashed. Sable turned, closed her eyes-

And opened them in the manor. The count and countess were addressing the crowd, their adorable little son a veritable pile of boxes. Sable, of course, had utilised the magic inherent at this property to invoke a small, pre-established teleportation routine using a stone given to her for just that purpose. It pulled her from one bar setup to another, specifically so that the last person filing into the establishment could see her standing at the bar outside, and then see her standing at the bar inside once they made it in.

She watched the goings-on as the crowds began to dance, idly creating more drinks to replace those the waiters stacked onto their trays and carried away. She was always amused to see a small collection of her dragon drinks on a tray, producing smoke, ice, and fizzy spray as they were carried away. Nobody had approached her for a direct request just yet, but the night was still young.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Thanks to force of habit, Carmine extended a wing a split second before remembering why hooking arms would be a bad idea. Especially while he wore white. No way would Raemi ever forgive herself. Realisation struck her at the same moment, as she pulled away with a wince that deepened when she caught her fingers in the strings of beads draped around her head.

"You alright there?" he asked. She untangled herself without need of his assistance, but her ever-flustered expression gave him the answer. Mumbling about how hot it was - while a cool breeze swept through the courtyard - she sped up her steps.

"All the more reason to grab some refreshments," he replied with a grin, his lute once again on his back as he hurried alongside her. In truth, he could use a drink himself to steady his own nerves, but there'd be little time before he'd have to join in the performance. A performance beside some of Hyrule's most renowned musicians, in front of a high-profile audience... Yeah, no pressure.

He got it, he really did. Yet the more he kept up his confident act like a second mask, the more he'd put Raemi at ease.

The ballroom's light sharpened everything into relief and a riot of colour. The sheer size of the marble expanse - despite being in part illusory, swirls of starlit mist obscuring the ceiling - gave it an intimidating quality. No sooner had they entered than Raemi excused herself to clean up, leaving him to face the orchestra that loomed above. Amidst the many musicians, he spotted the dictinctive bright plumage of Kass, back from his travels specifically for this event. A group of Sheikah, whom he recognised as descendants of the Court Poet, strummed at shamisens. Carmine gulped, knowing exactly how Raemi must have felt just now at the prospect of being left alone in a place like this, no matter how briefly.

Smoothing the feathers on his neck and shoulders, which had begun to puff up from trepidation, he took a deep breath. He pushed away unbidden thoughts of recent anxiety dreams, in which all his lute strings had snapped at once, or someone had spilled their drink on him before he'd even reached the stage.

He could do this. Not just that, he could smash this. Make a name for himself. Rise to ever-greater heights, both literally and metaphorically, on his journey to take the world by storm.

Once the outro to the opening waltz tune reached its final note, he ascended with a sweep of his wings, taking his place at an empty spot and readying his lute. Fashionably late, he told himself as, on cue, he joined in with the lively dance song that started up.

He settled into the rhythm right away, the nervousness swept away like fog in the Hebra wind as he revelled in the energy of the dancers below. Getting onto the stage was always the hardest part, not the performance itself. This made it all worthwhile, being part of something that brought so much joy to so many people.

It was only when he saw someone tumbling in a whirl of flared membranes that he faltered on a note. He readied himself to glide down and check on Raemi if needed, although thankfully, someone caught her. Well, broke her fall anyway, as she grabbed onto what was either an elaborate gauntlet or a metallic arm. That was one way to fulfill the promise she'd meet people, even though it wouldn't exactly make the situation any less awkward for her.

Resuming the melody, Carmine gave her a reassuring smile in case she looked his way, as if to say she'd got this.


Even as someone accustomed to the opulence of Zora's Domain, Claria found herself looking around in awe, taking in the great hall's decor. Her gaze travelled upward to the indigo and royal blue clouds that swirled in imitation of the night sky, complete with crystalline ornaments that replicated constellations in painstaking detail. Not a single star was out of place. Whoever had set up the effects had displayed quite the expert knowledge of the heavens.

People swished past in costumes as elaborate as the surroundings, although just as expected, the Count and Countess stole the show with their draconic getups. Large, colourful horns jutted from ostentatious hairstyles, and iridescent scales gleamed from their clothing. The only one who broke the theme was the child, encased in... boxes? Bronze and verdigris cubes that it took Claria a moment to recognise. She was sure they bore the same design as those blocky security towers she'd seen a few times in the Depths.

"Quite fancy, aren't they?" Ariadne commented by her side. Despite the understatement, her friend's glamoured eyes were wide with fascination - or intimidation? Ariadne's features took on a familiar air of discomfort when the dancing began, her posture stiffening as it had during official dances at the Domain. A feeling Claria could relate to, despite knowing the moves, she and other Zora having spent countless gruelling hours repeating them over and over throughout childhood, while tutors frowned and tutted at every slight misstep. All for nothing, as she'd ended up on the fringes of events in recent years, those few who danced with her insisting on taking the lead and treating her as if she were made of shattered, pieced-together glass. She'd had a thing or two to say to people who'd similarly looked down on Ariadne, although the two of them had remained on the sidelines.

How ironic that social events had a way of reinforcing loneliness.

This one, however, appeared surprisingly casual and relaxed. A group nearby shuffled their feet, wiggling their hips and shoulders to the music, out of sync with each other yet exuding energy and good cheer. Two Hylian women waltzed past, one of them attempting a twirl only to stumble, her partner steadying her as their laughter rose over the symphony. While some people took the dancing seriously, most seemed more focused on having fun, hopefully to Ariadne's relief. If only the feeling of not quite belonging were easy to shake once ingrained.

"Aren't they just," Claria replied, with one more glance towards the family. "As for drinks, I'd better stick with alcohol-free ones, but they look like pretty creative concoctions." While she was technically allowed a small amount of alcohol tonight if she so wanted, she preferred to keep her reflexes as sharp as possible, in case anything happened. Besides, many of the drinks outside of the Domain were stronger than the lotus-infused wines she was used to, between tipsiness being considered uncouth in her home city, and how Zora dehydrated much faster than other races. She'd learned the hard way at that one pub in Castle Town that voltfruit wine was best sipped slowly, preferably alongside food.

"Let's take a closer look at what they've got." She approached the bar, where a woman unlike anyone she'd seen before blended all manner of colourful beverages. A Rito bearing Hylian traits - or was it the other way round? - with some eerily Zora-like physiology mixed in, wings hanging from her forearms like fins. Dreamlike afterimages blinked behind her as she worked on cocktails that flickered like flame, shimmered like ice, and... Oh Cranioc crap.

Sparked like lightning.

Claria froze in place at yellow flashes fizzling atop some of the glasses, accompanied by low, all-too-realistic buzzes and crackles. A soft gasp caught in her chest. So much for professional behaviour, she chided herself, willing her muscles back into motion, averting her eyes as she tried to ignore the sound. What guard worth their salt freaked out at a fucking cocktail?

Her focus shifted to the menu. "I'll have..." It took all her willpower not to inch to the side, away from the little bursts of light in the corner of her vision. "I think I'll try the Blupee. The non-alcoholic version."

[AmJanky]

Axel/Collin

Though his demeanor wouldn't betray it, Axel was well out of his comfort zone. He wasn't the best dancer to start with, even with attempts made by his mother to teach him, if only as a form of physical therapy. To get him comfortable with the clunker of an arm and used to not smacking others with it.
And he liked the twins for company too, but things had been a bit awkward between him and Mabel at times. And perhaps he could have handled that better at the time, and perhaps that was just what teens did... and perhaps it was a bit mean to just up and excuse himself right now.

"It's a nice night for a party." He said a bit sheepishly, not really knowing any more why he didn't just ask Mabel for a friendly dance and let bygones be bygones. When something prickled his arm, he picked another piece of glitter out of a fold - or even Alyson, for that matter. They all looked rearing for a dance in their Ashley-fashions.
"It is," Collin was about to say something along the lines of 'why aren't you, then?' when an accidental stumble landed Axel a fish to boast about. Or, to put it more eloquently, a gorgeous Zora, bedazzled in corals and pearls, unlike the Zora of Hyrule's domain, she looked almost fragile.

"OH MOONS, I'M SO SORRY!!!" she exclaimed and another flurry of apologies followed.

Axel was surprised, but nonplussed all the same, "I'm fine, it's fine," catching her in his good arm, before any of the automated segments could cause undue damage, "are you okay, though?"
Before she answered the question she giggled frantically, "I was actually going to ask you for a dance but... this doesn't bode well for your feet does it? Haha..."


Collin had always kept his eyes and ears open for the slightest bit of rumor on the road. It wasn't just goods that could be traded, but information could catch a hefty sum. Besides, spilling some tea with the locals could lead him to some interesting places. But when Ashley spilled tea, he spilled *tea*. And the latest crop to come from Hateno wasn't pumpkins but a batch of scrumptious tea-leaves provided by his dear nephew.
Ashley got it from Mabel, who got it from Sophie, who got it straight from the source; Lasli. Lasli was a Kakariko-las who got into a little spat with 'a Local Artificer', she had then only recently moved to Hateno to 'study fashion under Cece'. And none of those names had meant much to Collin, he only knew Cece as that 'darned mushroom fashionista' - darned only because Ashley's mother was in earshot.

Local Artificer, however, had meant lots. Time to get over that mishap with Lasli, lad.

What transpired between them was - to the unknowing eye - just a series of looks, but to those in the know an entire conversation in a matter of a second; it started with Collin giving a slow look from Axel to the newcomer back to Axel and a slight asking tilt of his head. Axel's eyes in turn went large for a second in realisation before his face turned away, barely audibly exhaling guiltily.
With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Collin's face scrunched into a mocking grin, "His feet are fine, he can dance."
"UH! Well, I-" Axel shot Collin a glance that could mean anything, but he turned back to the Zora and let it be, "Are you sure you are okay, though. I wouldn't want you hurt."

[El]

RAEMI

He was warm.

Raemi felt her cheeks begin to burn. Secure, but not too tight, it was peculiar how pleasant a stranger's hold could feel. How comfortable it was. ...Maybe that was due to Zora running colder than land-dwelling races. She conveniently forgot all about her regular skinship with Carmine.

The stranger was quick to inquire after her wellbeing, his easy concern melting a smile across Raemi's glossed lips. How sweet. This situation was undoubtedly embarrassing for her, but this result wasn't all that bad, was it?

Well...

Hmn.

Up until his blue-haired companion chimed in, that is. The words themselves were harmless enough - encouraging, even - yet it was what preceded them which gave her pause, the innocent delight of her heart quickly cooling when unease came needling. Pricking. Squeezing. Her mouth tightened, lips sealed in a now stiff smile. The excited flair of her fins freezing.

She was remembering something unpleasant.

"UH! Well, I-" Wide-eyed the Sheikah turned back to her, stumbling over his words. She would've found it cute. "Are you sure you are okay, though. I wouldn't want you hurt."

Raemi took a moment too long to respond. That made her shaky laugh even weaker once it finally arrived, but she grimaced through it with her pearly whites - grateful for the shimmering veil and the little protection it afforded her. "Contrary to the evidence... I am a dancer." The humbled elaboration came with a slow retreat: gently she pressed aside the man's bracing arm and took a step back. "Albeit-... perhaps a little out of my depth, hrmn~." Casting a straying look across the opulent hall and its blatant lack of ocean waves or river currents, she giggled again. "Pun intended."

How'd that Hylian saying go again? If you didn't laugh you'd cry?

Her lips pursed and she chewed over how to proceed from here.

When her attention returned to the Sheikah, for the first time she lamented the Ball's dresscode: the mask which obscured half his face made it all the more difficult to accurately discern his true feelings. Though she DID very much appreciate the skin-tight costume, try nobly as she did to ignore all of its... peripheral definition. Eyes on the eyes, Raemi!

Was his reluctance simply bashful nerves? Or had the question directed at her own wellbeing been naught but a polite way of declining her hand...? Twice now he'd asked if she was OK: she couldn't tell if he was just that tender-hearted, or if he was stuck on a loop because he already had nothing else to say.

...She didn't like feeling like the target of some secret game either. The object of a bet.

"...I probably could do with some warming up though. I must've gotten stiff from standing around for a bit too long." It wasn't exactly a lie, the ink clean-up HAD taken an infuriatingly long amount of time. She'd spent so long making sure she'd checked every scale and bead, only for her mind to work itself up into knots in the process.

Raemi sighed.

"I'll go on ahead." The Zora decided, her strayed attention already having secured an open spot on the dancefloor. An escape route. Good. It was wide enough for her to enjoy herself. Who needed a partner anyway? If anything she was far more used to her own company when it came to such things. Who knew the mess she'd cause with another whole human in the mixture.

Demurely sweet, but withdrawn in its tepid touch, Raemi delicately curtsied to the Sheikah and his friend, "Have a lovely rest of your evening, gentlemen." Just as her brother had taught her. Chin up. Back straight. Turn away.

[Sav'saaba]

Mabel

A dance partner, huh.
Easy for her brother to say, with his natural flair and confidence which magnetically drew people to him. Apart from Alyson, Axel and her blood relatives, there were no familiar faces nearby. And Axel had had the foresight to promptly whisk himself away with an excuse of drinks in uncle Lin's wake.

That had been unnecessary, but she did not let on about feeling a pang of rejection at the deliberateness of the Sheikah's quick escape. She was not that obnoxious, besotted teenager anymore.
She had grown, and not just physically. That particular infatuation? Over it! Honestly! Dead and buried! She had had no mind to even ask him for a dance, but perhaps Axel could've indulged her with just the one, as a nicety between the friends they had always been, and as far as she was concerned, still were.
Rude.

She leaned into her brother a little closer and silently watched the scenes unfold around them, one of her arms still linked with one of his, as they had been since the three of them had filed into the ballroom.

She couldn't just approach a random stranger and ask to dance with her, could she? But it was so lame to have your twin as a dance partner. Especially at a dance -no, calling this grand ball a dance would be like calling Hateno a hub of innovation, Cece's boutique notwithstanding. This was not a dance, this was a once-in-a-lifetime happening.

Goddess, Mabel, you're so lame. The absolute lamest. She nursed her reclaimed-from-her-brother drink all lamely, taking in the sights as the live music swelled.

And she didn't even know how to dance.

No, that wasn't true. She danced, a lot. Without a spared thought her limbs, trunk and hips would sway to the rhythm of her spell slinging, but that looked nothing like the measured steps of the coordinations commencing in the periphery. And whenever she rocked out to the riff of a favorite song, Ashley never had many reservations about letting her know she resembled a bokoblin being hounded by a swarm of courser bees. But she had not cared about that before now.

Did Alyson know how to dance? Of course she did. The engineer was so capable, Mabel was convinced that her friend could do anything!
Sefaro accidentally dropkicked a ball through your storefront's window?
Your cart's axle gave out under the weight of the latest harvest, the produce grown to massive proportions yet again this year? 
Not to worry when Alyson was around, your problem would be fixed in a jiff and with a radiant smile!
And without fail, Alyson's entry would be the one to wow the crowd in the pumpkin carving contest during the harvest festival.

Probably no one else present had pumpkins on their mind right now, Mabel reflected wryly.

She should ask Alyson to accompany her onto the floor; a close childhood friend as your partner would be incrementally less lame than your twin.
But, what if Mabel accidentally stepped on the Feyranger's feet? The Feyranger of Wind had even brought her wand! A wand fit to slay the Twin Beasts, to squash monstrous centipedes like the oversized bug they were. Best not get on her bad side tonight. Mabel smiled a little at her private joke. 

As she sipped on the remainder of her drink, a strategy to navigate her current predicament came to her. The bar was nearby, and no one would think anything of someone standing at the bar with a drink in hand at a party, would they? From this safety she could take the opportunity to observe the steps of the dancers, so that she could attempt to mimic the routine. She was nothing if not a quick learner.

Liquid courage, yeah, that might just be the little push that she needed for this night that was churning with promise. It was not like Mabel was particularly fond of alcohol, and she had never even gotten tipsy, although admittedly she wasn't feeling quite herself already. A little fuzzy in the brain, a muddled tickle of magic? Considering the displays all around her, it was kind of a given that there were spells being worked. 

It was possible that that first drink had been overly potent for someone not really used to drinking, but she could probably handle another to loosen up a little. It wasn't like her usual self at all to feel this self-conscious around strangers, but high society did not usually readily invite country bumpkins into their ranks, did it? Not even five minutes ago she was contemplating cart axles and harvests, for Hylia's sake.

Detaching herself from her brother, she inquired if she could bring her company back something from the bar, and excused herself for a moment.

The bartender was one of the most enigmatic and magnificent creatures she had laid eyes upon this evening, and that was no small feat at this masquerade of the lucky few. So pretty! For a few breaths, Mabel allowed herself to stare at the mesmerizing churning of the tattoo around the lady's left eye, before her attention shifted back on the works of art sitting before her on the bar.

"These are amazing!" she gasped, her wonder unrestrained, "Are these really drinks? You make these?"
It was as if she was a child again, and wide-eyed she leaned in a little closer to the bar, her glimmering gaze panning over the libations.

"My mom brews some funky-looking elixirs, but I've never seen a thunderstorm in a flute," she giggled. "Which... which should I pick?" she asked, somewhat overwhelmed by the presented options and a slight concern about missing out, oblivious that she might just have cut in line. Rude.

She couldn't possibly try them all and get herself legless on fancy cocktails at a Beaumont party.

[El]

Event Post

Meanwhile, outside in the Courtyard...

...Malanya was fishing in the fairy fountain.

Or... well... a muscular bear of a man DRESSED as Malanya was there, crouched over the gleaming marble structure and all its shimmering waters. In one large, calloused hand - laden with gold rings and chunky bracelets - he waded a fishing net, careful thought in his slow motions as he observed the numerous wish-slates clinking against its grasp. The assortment of vibrant colours reflected across his painted torso and bulging arms, the dark skin taking on all hues of the rainbow. But he wasn't admiring that.

The amount of slates was sizeable. But was it enough...?

A grumble thrummed in his throat, echoing against the large wooden mask tied over his face. The Beaumonts had been very particular in their request not to hound any of their guests to participate in the events on offer, but that was only if they didn't want to - what if some had forgotten? It seemed odd to Mr.Malanya that something as harmless and promising as casting a wish had been neglected by a substantial amount of the ball's guests.

But then again... given all Hyrule and its people had gone through, maybe it wasn't that farfetched to realise that romanticism was all but dead. Even if some WANTED to make a wish, perhaps caution had stayed their hand: paranoia is how many people survived after all.

BUT-! Just if-! Just maybe even just a handful of guests had simply gotten swept up in the current events and all its magic and had just forgotten, he figured it was worth spreading a reminder.

...

........Somehow.

With jingle and jangle and clickety-clank of various woodchimes attached to his waist-sash and as hair ornaments, Malanya stood upright with a sigh. Manicured talons scratched at his neck, absently clawing at a few of his many scars over a cumbersome, collaring necklace.

A large portion of these old wounds were completely on show and told many a harrowing tale of close calls and scathing blows - with monsters diverse and countless. While the usual bodypaint Gao wore had been modified to match Malanya's tastes, he'd discovered that as a whole that was the general effort of his entire costume uniform: altering his usual wardrobe habits with just a few tweaks.

Comforting, but arguably shamanistic knicknacks had been swapped out for more gaudy trinkets. His mane of dark but silver-streaked hair still wore braids, yet they were fewer and his hair was worn looser, demonstrating the extent of its full length. Instead of a Sheikah garb robed with animal hides, more colourful patchwork textiles flowed from his hips, draping over loose harem pants and straw sandals.

...Gao wasn't sure how he felt about his usual aesthetic being so close to that of the wickedly-humoured but widely-admired horse deity, Malanya. ...But that was a reflection for another time.

There was little time to brood anyway, as an obnoxious telltale squeak-squeak of tight green rubber over chafing, stocky thighs was creeping up on him from behind. Malanya turned to see the middle-aged man in his skin-tight onesie grinning at him, an air of oddly unnerving joviality to his rhythmic mannerisms.

"Weeeeeell, Mr.Malanyaah~? How goes your spoils, hrmmm~?" Tingle clapped his hands together and squirmed with excited delight, attempting to peer around the silhouetted titan of a man who stood in his way. "Many a rupee? Lots of wishes? I see LOTS of tasty, yummy, delicioussss colour!"

"...It could be better." Gao admitted, grimacing a little behind the cover of his mask. By Hylia's grace at least the fairy-fanatic had the decency to cover his well-defined crown jewels with some undergarments. It would've been hard not to stare.

"Oh well now that's not gooood~! Oh dear me... Not good at all." Suddenly Tingle drooped and those ripe red cheeks deflated with him. "I'm not doing so good either, Mr.Malanyaaah. Tingle's sales are very poor - poor indeed!" Shoulders heavy, back hunched, with a squashed lil choked sob - that Gao couldn't tell was genuine or not - he threw his head into his hands. "The raffle ticket sales are BOMBING! KA-BOOM!!! SPLOOOOSH!! Right to the bottom of the Necluda Sea!"

Well now Gao just felt bad.

Chest tightening with a twinge of guilt at judging the man so harshly - and on such surface details - Malanya extended a hand and hesitantly gave Tingle's quivering shoulder a few tentative pats. Ew. It was damp. Why was it damp? Had he fallen into one of the ponds while trying to catch the mechanical fairies...? That'd explain the brief ruckus he heard a few minutes ago. Odd, how even the machine variants of the magical creatures avoided the man.

"Don't give up yet, mate." Malanya encouraged. "Have you tried heading inside? That's where almost everyone is now." Spare a handful of doting, affectionate couples who he grimaced in second-hand embarrassment at the thought of Tingle harassing. "Who knows, maybe some of the other staff have already collected a bunch of ticket sales. Besides, with a few of your usual tric-...magic shows, I'm sure you'd catch some eyes.

"C'mon, let's head in together."

—

Meanwhile, inside the Ballroom...

The heavy, philosophical conversation Nex and Arcade were absorbed in was abruptly interrupted by a BRIGHT flash and a mechanical whir of turning gears. As if that wasn't distraction enough a giddy little yelp of delight followed.

"Hehe, fan-TASTIC! That Lady Purah really is a most generous genius. What a wonderful contraption!"

It was an-... Octorok?

Bouncing atop an inflated, camouflaged head bobbed a rusted treasure-chest. Assumedly it was empty, or at least a hollow cast of one...? Nonetheless two goggly, blue eyes lollygagged every which way, as the young woman's true hands clutched between dangling tentacles a peculiar, chunky box fitted with a large lens.

"Brilliant!" The Hylian exclaimed once again, almost jumping on the spot. Looking up now at the two memorable guests she promptly leapt right into complimenting their outfits, "As if your ensembles weren't already creative enough to add to my article, this tense discussion you were having really brought the picture together - what a mysterious composition it makes! Ooooh the questions! It'll really get my readers' thoughts racing.

"Oh, that's right! My name is Traysi, by the way! Leading Journalist and Head Editor of the Lucky Clover Gazette. I'd shake your hands but they're a little-... full." Protectively she pressed the pictograph box to her chest. Plus, as enthralling as her company was, she wasn't particularly fond of the idea of touching Malice-infected feathers or ominous scales - even if they really were just costumes. It was important that a professional kept some professional distance after all!

"Perhaps though, you two fine gentlemen would be open to the idea of an intervi- OH!!! WAIT!!! IS THAT-?!!" Almost squawking with shock, she jabbed a dramatic finger directly between Nex and Arcade. Riiiight aaat..... the Beaumonts? No. Not quite. The saccharine couple had parted ways after the conclusion of the first dance. Now they had different partners.

"No way..." Traysi pressed a glove to her lips, hushing her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm not seeing things, right...? That IS-"

—

Meanwhile, upon the dancefloor...

"I must say, Your Majesty, I was rather surprised by your choice of outfit but you wear it beautifully." Honey-sweet but gentle, the Countess teased the regal vai in her grasp as she spun her in waltzing circles. Through all the glitter of golden embroidery, the swirl of luxuriant silks and glistening scales, it was almost as if - for a second in an observer's rampant fantasy - Dinraal had captured a princess of her own.

"Thank you." Zelda humbly accepted, blushing a little above her royal blue veil but taking it all with ease and grace. "Admittedly I was concerned that it would be-... inappropriate. But Chief Riju assured me the complete opposite."

The Queen paused then, remembering with great fondness the innocent excitement which had possessed the Gerudo monarch in that moment. It felt cruel then to rob her of an opportunity to just enjoy being a child, troubled over peaceful trivialities like attire or what lipstick to match with this necklace. The weight upon Riju's shoulders was immense, and she had exceeded the expectations placed upon her with remarkable strength. But still... she was so young. As easy as it was to forget that at times, the bedroom full of sandseal plushies was a stark reminder. "She prepared this outfit for me herself." Zelda elaborated. "It is a joy to have an opportunity to wear such beautiful garments. I have always admired Gerudo culture."

A thoughtful hum chimed against the Countess's smile. Her Sheikahn eyes glinted with a sharp wit of mischief. "...Is that truly all?"

As they swept through another series of twirling strides, she gave a pointed glance towards the direction of her husband and his new partner. The shorter than average soul was also sporting a Gerudo garb, and given their flowing blonde hair and the billowing curves of the fabric's structure... it would be easy to mistake him for a Hylian vai as well.

Queen Zelda cleared her throat, collecting herself.

"I-... Well, yes. In truth I did make a special request of Link."

The Countess perked an eyebrow, restraining the urge to laugh as the monarch in her grasp fought valiantly to maintain a noble countenance. She gave her time, instead distracting herself with amused adoration as she watched Count 'Farosh' teach the Knight the dance's steps. Stiff as the Hero was, awkward for lack of practice, he was not at all clumsy and appeared to be learning quickly. The skilled footwork of a championed warrior was no doubt coming in handy. And for all of the Count's hearty guffaws, it was clear he was taking the endeavour of teaching just as seriously.

"When Chief Riju told me of Link's... adventures in Gerudo Town, and the challenges he overcame there, I admittedly wanted to see the outfit for myself." The Queen sighed a little then, perhaps with regret - should she really have risked Link being ridiculed by the public like this...? - but the Countess gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"-So you decided to keep him company with a show of camaraderie." She concluded for her.

Zelda smiled. "Yes. Precisely that."

The Countess then spied - from the corner of her crinkled eyes - a peculiar Octorok squirming through the crowds, wading this way and that, before popping out right above only to swoop down below. BUT-! With a deft hand and quick turn, she ruined the journalist's next shot. "Well I, for one, think he makes a very pretty vai." She laughed, the sound rich and deep. "As do you, Your Majesty. It warms my heart - truly - to see you both able to enjoy this ball in the way it should be enjoyed.

"You both more than deserve tonight."

—

Meanwhile, upon the orchestra's balcony...

...A golden fox of a man had manifested, nimbly sweeping through the neatly organised chairs and stools of hardworking musicians. Ink-dipped tails wove between plucked strings and pounding drums, the clacking rhythm of his tall, wooden geta blending in harmoniously, until eventually he found a suitable spot in which to settle: directly behind Carmine.

The lutist Rito had found an empty stool positioned within a group which-... had no group. While much of the orchestra had banded together with familiar companions, the area in which Carmine was employed comprised of talented individuals who were accustomed to more solitary performances. To his left sat a Gerudo elder with bejewelled hair as tall as her years were many, knobbly fingers expertly fingering the wooden wind instrument they called a pungi. While to his right a middle-aged man, comfortably clad in the insulating furs popular amongst Stable staff, whistled into a horse's popular favourite - an ocarina.

Seiran was not here to play music. In fact, the only noticeable 'instruments' upon his gleaming-gold person were two very obvious - but sheathed - swords. One was much larger than the other, and the Sheikah habitually adjusted them as he took a seat in the back, largely obscured by Carmine's plumage and proud stature but still able to overlook the ball's festivities with relative ease.

"Excuse me, gentlemen and gentlefolk," The Keaton whispered, throwing them a dashingly sharp grin. "Do not mind me." His crimson gaze was already scouring the crowds below. "...I just need to rest my feet for a while."

It wasn't time yet.

—

Meanwhile, down in the Beaumont Estate's kitchen...

...Malanya popped his head around the furthest back doorway.

He had managed to lose Tingle amongst a group of 'fashionistas' who had a lot of pointed inquiries about his "impactful" outfit, notebooks ready and all, the poor sod. (Or perhaps, poor them.) Given the heavy mushroom inspired theming of their own costumes, they were no doubt part of CeCe's crowd. He was pretty sure he had spied the lady herself not far from them, sporting a more luminous Depths-inspired ensemble while in rapt discussion about beetles or demi-train worms or something...

Regardless, the kitchen was alight with Din's fire, running at full power to continue churning out freshly cooked plates to replace countless emptied ones. Blupee waiters weaved in and out as if gliding across a racecourse of ice, dropping off dirtied dishes, inquiring after the status of pending orders, and then swiftly collecting what had been left ready to whisk back out to the hungry masses. As predicted, the easier to eat finger foods were a popular favourite. Despite the fumes, the heat, and all the swarming bodies with their raised voices and sweaty palms handling both cast irons and blades, these soldiers worked together like a well-oiled machine. A machine Gao really shouldn't interfere with huh...

Stuck between the pangs of nostalgia and odd sense of longing, it took the man Malanya a moment to recollect himself and get back to work elsewhere. Besides, Micah was in there. And by the looks of the steaming slab he had been stationed at and the pile of assorted rock dishes beside him, the Goron was hard at work himself. Gao grinned to see him so much in his element, ablaze with sincerity and dedication.

Where to now though... that was the question.

He had initially struck off approaching Miss Sable, as her bar was already collecting a crowd. Yet by the looks of things, he didn't really have many other options did he...? At least the familiar faces he spied at her counter were unlikely to recognise him. Especially considering the light scar he'd obtained from that Yuletide Festival was thoroughly covered by his loose mane.

...It wasn't possible to recognise a man by his chest, was it? It wasn't as if Gao was topless in his usual day-to-day life. Besides, even if Claria was also on the staff payroll tonight, their allocated jobs were so drastically different they had never been briefed together.

Regardless, he chewed upon a licked lip and braced himself with a deep breath. Manoeuvring through the crowds he eventually got where he needed to be, making sure to stand off to one side and wait for an appropriate moment to interject his own request to the barwoman. Even if the very capable businesswoman - and her intriguing interpretation of a half-Rito, huh - didn't recognise every member of staff, the vibrant, sky-blue handkerchief tied around his bulging bicep would clue her in. All the Blupee waiters wore one also, though usually as a cravat or a bowtie. Apparently some of the silvered Beaumont family crests upon them had been hand-embroidered by Ciel Beaumont herself!

"Sorry for the interruption, Ma'am." Gao whispered, purposefully lowering his voice as he leaned across the counter for extra privacy. He had no reason to shield his mouth - given the giant horse mask already obscuring it - yet still he habitually did. "Could I make a request...?

"I'm after a large platter of-... hmn, palette-cleansers." He decided after a thoughtful pause. "If you need any extra ingredients or help in general, let me know though. The last thing I want is to overwork you if things are already too busy as well." Briefly, his liquor-red eyes swept across Claria, Ariadne and Mabel, only to quickly avert his gaze back to Sable.

—

The Midnight Dance - the last official dance of the ball! - will begin soon!
Please make sure to submit your rupee wish-slates before then and purchase any raffle tickets, if desired.

Current Raffle Ticket Holders: Arcade, Carmine
Current Submitted Wish-Slates: Nex (blue), Arcade (gold), Ariadne (green), Claria (green),  Alyson (blue)

(Micah (red), Mabel (green), Collin (blue), Axel (blue) and Ashley (red) have mentioned slates but not cast them.)

[LuckyBlackCat]

Sipping one of the dangerously sweet cocktails as she entered, Alyson took a moment to marvel at the architecture, with its grand pillars, its curving balconies crowded with musicians who played in perfect sync, its intricately carved marble tiling stretching outwards. This entire hall alone had to be twice the size of Tarrey Town. That was, unless the smoke and stars swirling around merely created the illusion of extra space.

It all overwhelmed her with a sense of... Otherworldliness. Magnificence. Wrongness... No, no, that wasn't the right word to describe it, even as she wondered what it would do to ancestors who had suffered through the Calamity if they could see everyone here, revelling like everything had been fixed as magically as the theme suggested. Should she and the others even have given in to the appeal of whimsy and wonder? Shouldn't they have pushed for the funding to go towards rebuilding the rest of Hyrule?

Her fingers tightened around the stem of the glass. Those weren't Feyranger thoughts. Or the thoughts of anyone remotely grateful. Wasn't this, after all, a celebration of the leaps and bounds the kingdom's recovery had made, a fundraiser for orphanages and schools, a chance for the once-divided people of Hyrule to mingle? Weren't the hosts the same people who were furthering Ashley's career, hence supporting his and Mabel's journey, by making clothing requests? Tonight, they were all meant to have fun, now that such was possible on a wide scale. She wouldn't be the one to ruin such a once-in-a-lifetime night for her friends.

"Anyone want to grab one of those raffle tickets?" she asked, forcing cheer into her voice. "Can confirm that Hebra's a pretty good vacation spot, despite its reputation." She scanned the bunny-costumed staff standing at the walls - only for a new arrival to catch her notice. A Rito-looking woman, with Hylian limbs and elegantly curled hair, had blinked into existence at the bar.

"Did ya see that?" With an awestruck grin towards Mabel, Alyson gestured towards the barkeep, who moved around in a blur of afterimages as if she were some kind of phantasm. If anyone would be fascinated at the sorcery that permeated the place, it was Mabel. "That's one useful trick! It'd sure come in handy on construction sites, instead of having to haul planks around." Maybe, just maybe, she could sweet-talk this staff member into spilling her secrets, using flattery techniques she'd learned from a certain other Rito bartender.

A sudden yelp drew her attention away as Axel unwittingly caught himself a fish - or, more precisely, a flustered Zora with colourful membranes flowing from her head, arms and hips, who'd quite literally stumbled into his path. "You both alright?" Alyson called, rushing over. Thankfully they both seemed unhurt, but the atmosphere of awkwardness reached new heights as Collin gave Axel a knowing look that visibly perturbed him, judging by the dawning realisation in his eyes and the abrupt turn of his head.

Huh, did this have anything to do with the gossip she'd heard from Ashley, about a tiff between Axel and a certain fashion student? In any case, it wasn't her place to inquire into the meaning of those glances. The situation was already uncomfortable enough for him and the Zora alike. Best to leave him to it as he turned his focus away from Collin and his teasing, back towards his soon-to-be dance partner.

"Well, that's one of us who's accomplished their mission!" With a swish of her frilled coat, she headed back towards Ashley and Mabel. "Now for the rest of us to do the same! But first..." She downed what remained of her drink, the alcohol leaving a pleasant warm sensation in her throat and dulling her underlying doubts. "Top-ups are in order."

With that, she followed Mabel to the bar, where the half-Rito stirred drinks that smoked, crackled and glimmered in... rather distinctive ways. Alyson's steps halted. Even though these particular ones appeared new, experimental, she'd recognise sky fruit based beverages anywhere. She knew exactly who delighted in making such, who gladly accepted ingredients she foraged from the floating islands, who often got her to sample the results.

Her eyes grew wide as her gaze rose from the beverages to the bartender. "Sable?!"


"Hurry up, will you? The enchantments here don't extend to making food serve itself, you know!"

Grimacing, Micah set to arranging the steaming rock roasts and rock sirloins on cast iron trays as fast as he could. "Nearly done!" High temperatures had a tendency to make Hylians irritable, as he knew from some visitors to Goron City, but the shouting from the other chefs didn't exactly calm his nerves. Once he'd hurriedly sprinkled a dusting of salt and volcanic ash over the grilled snacks to bring out their flavour, he took a large tray in each hand and ducked his head as he stumbled out of the kitchen.

He should have known he'd be stuck doing odd jobs all night - so much for a kitchen assistant role. Eyeing the Blupee ears the other waiters wore, he wondered if he'd get strange looks for his informal clothing and his breaking of the theme. Oh well, work experience was work experience.

He wove through the crowd - no easy feat for someone much taller and rounder than most people gathered here - taking utmost care not to step on any hems of dresses or capes as dancers whirled all around, or get ash on any costumes. Somehow, he made it to the table without incident, setting down the trays with a sigh of relief.

Not that he was out of the Badlands woods just yet. Going anywhere empty-handed would get him glares and possible yells from other staff. Grabbing a smaller empty tray - the food was already disappearing fast - he stacked as many used glasses as he could onto it and headed towards the bar, only to sharply veer to the side to avoid crashing into a Hylian woman clad in a frilled, ribboned coat who made a sudden stop.

It was one of those moments that seemed to stretch into slow motion as every last one of the glasses slid from the tray and exploded into smithereens across the tiles.

"Oh no no no no!!" Micah dropped to a crouch, gathering up the shards, his frantic stare darting around. A chorus of cheers rose up, accompanied by clapping, from a bunch of raucous youths, as if the mishap hadn't attracted enough attention already.

"Is everyone alright?" he called above the noise. "Nobody got hurt, did they?"

Had he really expected everything to go smoothly?