The Beaumont Ball [Player Event][CLOSED]

[Rex Draco]

The man listened, his hands clasped in front of him. The tattered ends of the cowl fluttered in the wind, his long head-fin protruded from the back of the hood and was probably the brightest color on his person aside from the green gem that hung from his neck. The flat, matte surface of the ebony squares appeared carved, and if one observed more closely one would be able to see some kind of writing bore into the black surface of the necklaces, but it was so tightly packed it was easily mistaken for the ridges of the points. His posture was slightly slouched, adding to the imposing air of the costume. The robed Zora raised his gloved hand, pressing his fingers against his concealed face. The wry smirk curling on his features were hidden by the cloth and leather. The wide brim of petasos seemed to unnaturally darken his face, in that one could not pierce it to discern his identity. His chin moved as his jaw instinctively clenched.

The bird's words were familiar. They were much like the words he carried in his youth. It was a dismissive, almost dark denial, of one's own cruelty as one viewed their actions as a chance to observe the forefront of society's corruption through an unbiased lens. That was him once, a long time ago.

A time he has long forgotten...

He held out his hand. "A sentient Calamity." His voice coldly rumbled with amusement. "I must say it is quite the opportunity to meet one. It is too bad we are to conceal ourselves for the purposes of these festivities or I would have requested your name, something I am rarely wont to do." Of course the Rito needn't take his hand, it was merely a coded custom learned from Hylians he couldn't quite shake, even after all these years.

Afterwards he brushed his gloved hands down the front of his robes with a dulled sense of urgency. Crossing his hands in front of him, the Zora leaned forward slightly. Though he couldn't get a sense of the bird's identity, he definitely wanted to peer into his magical competence. Whether he could gauge the bird's skill or not was wholly circumstantial. He wasn't sure if the Goddess' Blessing even had any bearing in this time, or if she was completely forgotten by the stampeding worms that seemed to exist in this time. One his icy treats were done the man debated on picking up drinks. This era was full of unusually tasty things, but it was difficult to pick on just one. He heard there were drinks available, but he had been sober for millenia and didn't want to betray the promises he made to his late wife. His gaze drifted to the side, followed by his head before he leveled with his stiff shoulders, slouch aside. He wasn't fond of bright lights so had to resist taking a step back in search of shelter. He wasn't going to find much in an open ballroom. Grumbling the wizard tugged at the lip of his hood, making sure his eyes were perfectly shrouded.

"...how gauche." What ever was he looking at? Regardless of what it was he wouldn't have offered his hands in any case. That was reserved for the most elusive of prey. The man watched as the reporter jumped from topic to topic. He was gladdened to say that not everything has changed despite the flow of time. He followed her gaze, wondering what had her a titter. He then spotted it as well. "Well, well — who would have thought she'd show up....?"

[Chaosome]

Arcade had to admit that he was pleased to have found at least marginally engaging conversation at this little soiree. Without holding a much longer discussion with the Zora, he couldn't say that the man was an intellectual equal to himself, it was however clear that at the very least he appeared to be a step above the common dredges of pseudo intellectual rabble that he was so often cursed with entertaining conversations with. It was a rather... refreshing change of pace one might go so far as to say.

A feathered brow arched slightly and a small smirk played at Arcade's features with the Zora offered a hand. He extended his own malice-free hand and gave a firm shake for an appropriate length of time — 1.7 seconds — before withdrawing with a little nod. "From even this brief conversation, it seems reasonable to believe that certain topics that pique our interests overlap. And so it's equally reasonable to assume that we will run into one another again in some place and time." Variables always made for fascinating shake ups within any experiment, and this Zora seemed as if he was a walking variable. Was Arcade a calamity? Perhaps. But something told him this Zora could very well be one himself, should he so choose...

Some people were open books, some only showed a few pages. Arcade was... difficult to get a read on. He clearly held himself with collected and confident air, but it didn't seem to be arrogance. His roving eyes scanned the guests of the room, but didn't seem as if it was with cold calculation. He showed little in the way of overt emotions beyond a slight smile or a pondering furrow of the brow. To say he was unreadable wasn't entirely accurate, but it would certainly take time to read between the lines.

When a flash filled the two's vision, Arcade didn't even flinch, only blinking for a moment when his pupils dilated and returned to their normal size, that golden gaze trailing over to the source of the light with a bemused smirk. "Ahh. The author of the Rumour Mill too, if memory serves. Charmed." the 'mage' replied, dipping his head in greeting in lieu of shaking the Hylian's hand. As Traysi began to ask for an interview, she not only cut her question off but Arcade's reply. Interest piqued, the man followed the trail of the woman's hand. For a brief moment one might notice the Rito's pupils dilate and constrict swiftly before he let out a soft chuckle into his free hand. "Well, far be it from Her Highness to miss an opportunity to partake in an event seemingly designed to lift spirits. Optimism seems to be one of her two most constant companions." he mused as he glanced around, finally spotting where the Queen herself was loo- Is that?... What was the swordsman wearing... The Rito furrowed his brow and cupped a hand to his beak in silent contemplation for a moment before shaking his head. "Ahem. As for the request for an interview, I cannot speak for my acquaintance here, but I myself would not object, depending on the content of the interview in question. However it seems that someone a touch more... famous has caught your attention. So perhaps after you've had the chance to speak with the Queen, mm?"

[Emily]

Stories were a beautiful concept. By nature creative conjurations pulled from the ether by some individual or collective, stories aimed to relate something meaningful. In their construction, indeed often in the specific narrative related, they were unique. But they were simultaneously a reflection of the creator or creators. Every important cultural touchstone, every traumatic or triumphant event, was imprinted upon them, context and symbolism between each word, every character. Castle Town, likewise, had its own unique, but also derivative, story. Tarrey Town had preceded it as a planned settlement pulled from the ground fully formed. But even Tarrey Town had been constructed around the whims and skills of those who were recruited to live there. Castle Town, meanwhile, had been planned and built without any idea of the population that would one day populate it.

Inspired by their success in Tarrey Town, the Hudson Construction Company had used their learned skills in planning to outline the city perfectly. Residential areas, commercial districts, parks and food-growing areas were placed next to one another holistically, need supplanting spontaneity. Castle Town had required the cooperation of many different people, weeks of hard work to establish connections and figure out logistics, supply chains expanding outside the city, new customer bases from the locals. They planned around the pre-existing merchant paths, incentivising travelling merchants from all races to stop in the city with stalls that only began to cost if used for a certain amount of days per month. Icehouses placed not only where they were most accessible for deliveries, but also for easy access to the markets and homes inside the city.

Sable watched on with a growing sense of pride in her heart. After all that time, all that effort, here they were celebrating their success as a community. A community without shared history, shared traditions, with no ties to one another, just the hope that those things would come in time. A city of true believers; after all, who else would choose to live in a place where evil had literally burst from the ground twice in the past century?

As the dance entered full swing, Sable was also happy to see that her own business began spinning up. There had been a couple people in the garden, near the tail end of the festivities when they seemed to believe it was their last chance to grab something. Of course, they had been entirely correct, but not in the way they thought. She had chosen a few drinks to be garden party exclusives, and a few others to be exclusive to the dance hall, with most overlapping between the two locations. She believed the dance would begin the process of people approaching in earnest, and fortune seemed to be favouring her now, as multiple avenues were being used to approach her. From one side, a familiar Zora flanked by an unfamiliar Hylian, from the other another unfamiliar Hylian, and an absolute unit of a horse peeking around a corner.

First up, the Zora... Claria? She hoped she remembered the name correctly. It was a skill she'd been developing ever since she'd started as a bartender, but it was still occasionally difficult if she'd only met the person once or twice. In those cases, she usually refrained from using it, as there was nothing more embarrassing than using the wrong name for someone who might in turn remember yours. And there was absolutely no recognition of the other, though her costume seemed quite extensive. "... they look like pretty creative concoctions," was all she picked up of their conversation as they approached.

The Hylian seemed uncomfortable. Anxious, to be more precise. Like there was a lot going on behind those glowing eyes, like there was a very tight self-control to keep it back there. The Zora, conversely, seemed to be entirely calm. This was a notable situation given their previous interaction, should this actually be the same Claria and not some other Zora who also glowed. That stormy night had suggested to the Rito that Claria had some very specific, but very strong, triggers. Something about that sent up the smallest warning signal in the back of her mind. An unknowable discomfort. Still, Sable buried a preening smile as the Hylian responded. "They're really quite pretty, aren't they? I love the elemental themes."

"That's very kind of you to say," she responded, finally revealing the final step in her glamour. Sable had attempted to recreate a vision she had seen in a dream, sketching it in a notebook in the false dawn with foggy, groggy eyes and a quickly deteriorating memory of what she had seen. It had mostly required basic illusion magic- even the afterimage was at best intermediate. But to complete the dreamlike appearance, she had applied layers to her voice, as if multiple versions of her were speaking in unison. Furthermore, while the soundwaves rippled out like normal, they masked her voice until they reached a surface, creating an effect as if her voice came from inside the heads of those people in earshot. Or at least, that was how it was supposed to work, it was by far the most difficult part of the glamour to construct. She didn't understand sound magic nearly as much as she did sight and taste. The Hylian's eyes widened, in turn surprising Sable. They had already looked so wide, she assumed they couldn't get much larger than that. "Please, try anything you'd- "

Shock like a lightning bolt ran through her, raising the down on the back of her neck and causing her to stand straight. A jolt of recognition burned through her mind, blood rushing through her ears like distant thunder. Even as the memory of specifically what had been happening at the Roost that night passed through her mind, she saw the Zora freeze up, her eyes stuck to the Thunderstorm before being torn away. "-like."

Sable attempted to hide the electric drinks from sight with a mixture of deftness and grace, or at least as much grace as she was able to muster in the moment. The version of her that had existed in the dream was not someone who would do something like this, but she couldn't just let someone experience fear at her bar. Of course, Sable's immediate instinct was to explain it away, talk about how yes, the drink did have some electricity, but to have anything more than a tiny shock would be irresponsible in a drink and most of the visual was itself illusion, but she knew too well what it was to have a sight-based fear. You couldn't reason things like that away, there was no logic, no stability. As the Thunderstorms were gently pushed out of sight, a broad wooden sign moved in front of them, she caught the Hylian's gaze, softening considerably from their previously alerted state. The Hylian mouthed a silent 'Thank You.' A strange sight, Sable thought, to see gratitude coming from those firey eyes.

"I'll have... I think I'll try the Blupee. The non-alcoholic one." Claria, having pulled herself together, seemed to loosen up a bit. That was a good sign. The Hylian looked at the drinks as if for the first time, though her eyes notedly avoided the space where the thunderstorm had been. Sable wondered if she would have tried that if her friend wasn't as reactive to electricity. "I'd like to try Naydra's Wisdom," came the voice, a calm masquing something otherwise quite young. "The cold's never bothered me anyway."

"Excellent choices, both of you. Over here are the non-alcoholic drinks," Sable said, moving and gesturing toward a specific section of the bar. "And here... is your Blupee!" She picked up a glass and handed the drink directly to Claria. As the Zora grabbed the stem of the glass, the little 'ears' wiggled. "If you need anything else, I will be here. As for you," she turned to the Hylian, "many brave adventurers have taken on the challenge of Naydra's Wisdom."

Just as she had practiced, the long preparation for this night. "Have you hiked to the peak of Mount Lanayru?" Have you braved the storms, the snow, the ice?

"It's funny you ask that." As the Hylian laughed, her outfit shuddered, releasing the sound of hundreds of leaves brushing against one another. The movement seemed to amplify the laugh; something about it reminded Sable of... home? The almost childlike nature of it almost seemed layered like her own voice, as if she had travelled back in time to laugh over and over. The patron elbowed Claria with no small amount of conspiracy in her actions. There was a natural mischievousness in the Hylian's actions, something that reflected well in the attire. This was no mere wizard hermit brewing potions in a swamp, this was much more. She bit down on her natural curiosity, allowing her customer to respond.  "Just over a year ago, Claria and I hiked the entire approach to Zora's Domain. While I was there, she even helped me climb up to Shatterback Point."

"A feat that takes no small amount of courage." Sable stifled a grin, enjoying the challenge. "But a Ploymus cliff climbed does not a Lanayru summit make."

The Hylian looked amused, pausing a moment before responding with a totally neutral comment. "True. No, I haven't been to the peak of Mount Lanayru."

She... backed down? Sable hoped she didn't appear as crestfallen as she felt. Why, after all of the creepy effects and boisterous responses, was the Hylian holding back? When she had gamed this out beforehand, there had been plenty of silly back and forth, people playing into the grandeur and almost mythopoetic nature of the hall they stood in. Everyone was an extra version of themselves tonight. Perhaps she had miscalculated. Steeling herself, Sable picked up the drink and handed it to the sprite. "Then I wish you luck, fair traveller. This drink is made with the finest ice and snow Lanayru has to offer. It is not for the faint of heart." She watched as the pair walked over to the side, out of the way of the bar. She wondered at that costume. Why did it feel so familiar?

"These are amazing" Somehow perfectly timed, Sable was pulled from her thoughts by a new arrival. She turned to see yet another Hylian, having finally made the leap from eyeing the bar to approaching it. Unlike the first two patrons, this one was clearly already feeling herself. She was wearing a magnificently avant-guard costume, at least in the sense that it was difficult for Sable to immediately understand. There were spikes, there were jewels, there were some giant shoulder pieces. Every time she moved her arms there was noise- was this a theme tonight? And of course, there was a butt-cape. "You make these? My mom brews some funky-looking elixirs, but I've never seen a thunderstorm in a flute."

Sable was immediately disarmed by the young woman's giggle. No matter how the first interaction went, she should try her best for everyone. And no matter what the lady wanted, she could always slip in a non-alcoholic version, call it her requisite hourly good deed. Reaching deep within herself to call forth all the pomp and circumstance that anyone could hope for, Sable leaned into her glamour, causing a light illusory snow to hang in the air around them. With the mid-air glitter frozen in place, she responded, voice echoing in the mind of her newest target. "You have approached a great and powerful mage indeed, young one! The art I provide, that I have dedicated my entire being to, is the magic, the splendour, of bartending. While all great bartenders, chemists and potioneers can create funky elixirs, it is only the true elite among us who can conjure the very elements themselves into cups of varying sizes! And tonight, only the best for you."

"Which... which should I pick?" The young Hylian was clearly taken aback by what she had seen. Understandable, understandable. She didn't have the same combative spark the other did, but undivided awe was also a perfectly acceptable response.

"Anything you want," she replied, presenting a discreetly non-alcoholic version of every type of drink in front of her. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Tell you what, take a sip of all of them and tell me what you like most. And if you're ever interested in seeing more of what I can do, my name is-"

"...Sable?!"

And so the Rito realised that someone had been sneaky, approaching the bar while she had been focused on providing an entertaining presentation. She laughed upon seeing Alyson, of all people, standing there. "That timing was too perfect to be an accident. You did that on purpose."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sable saw the evening's coworker approaching. "I have to check on something, but you simply must tell me what gave it away, I was so sure I was incognito tonight. Looking incredible, by the way. Be right back." And with that, she turned to the horse man at the far end of the bar.

It was truly amusing to see so large a man dress as so slender a horse. Every time she had seen him that evening, Gao had looked completely terrified, either shy or wishing he wasn't there. But she had taken a liking to messing with him, just in case it made him squirm even more. She leaned over the bar toward him and looked first to the side, then back. "Hey there, handsome. Fancy meeting you in a place like this."

True to form, Gao was flustered beyond belief, though it seemed more a result of the assembled patronage than anything she could do to him. "Sorry for the interruption, Ma'am. Could I make a request...? I'm after a large platter of... hmm, palette-cleansers. 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."

"No trouble at all, I should have everything I need. Unless..." one final push, surely something would work, "you're requesting I join you in the storeroom. Otherwise, I can have you a platter in about ten minutes, if I understand your request correctly."

Leaving him to chew on that possibility for a moment, Sable turned back to the court she held. She quickly returned to the other two, winking at Alyson before addressing her bug friend. "Anything jumping out to you yet? It's all free, pinky promise."