Open [Winter Blaze] A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

[Kaie]

10th Day of Winter, 515 AV

Whoever this Straif Davin guy is, he sure knows how to throw a party, the Myrian's internal monologue noted in silent awe before the impressive glass pavilion towering before her. Its strong stone legs were formidably rooted into the earth beside the bay, while the glass glistened in Leth's glow from each of its precisely placed angles that gave life to the structure. Like a beacon it seduced the masses of the city crowd in its direction, filing in body after body through brightly lit doors within that each approaching party-goer filled with promises of great expectations. The endless collection of people dressed in their finest reds and blues sauntered through the labyrinth of winding gardens on their way, where great statues stood vigilant among the plants to welcome each visitor. Everywhere there seemed to come the echoes of excitement and the aura of anticipation. After all, the word of the near legendary party had spread like wildfire to encourage the attendance of even those with the coldest of hearts. Anyone who was anyone would certainly be there, and so they marched forth to answer the call and be a part of the fun. Only at the door was anyone's advance threatened. Alas, a simple offering of a dish to share was enough bribery for anyone to enter. Men in their sharpest attire led their stunning dates by the crook of their arms, and parents ushered exuberant children forth toward the sound of music and dance once the price was paid. Even the Myrian was offered safe passage within after payment of market bought cookies. Granted, the proud warrior woman from Falyndar had even shown up to play her part. After all, didn't someone say something about an open bar?

Kaie passed through the fancy glass doors into an expanse before her filled with twirling dresses and the sound of talented musicians vigorously playing away. Tables topped with mountains of food were scattered here and there. Children raced about with one another playing their childhood games, and of course, stealing an extra sweet when mom and dad weren't looking. The rush of immeasurable stimuli paralyzed the jungle-born for but half chime before she gathered herself once more. Amber eyes scanned the room, taking in the context of the festivities before letting her gaze find that elusive open bar. It didn't take long for the alcohol enthusiast to locate it. Cursing her in heels fiercely beneath her breath, the Myrian woman made her way to the counter to wait among the throes of other patrons for the bartender's attention. It was the best she could do to evoke patience within herself while fighting the persistent urge to tear the wretched footwear from her aching feet.

The last time she'd dressed for such a formal occasion, the Falyndar native was in Zeltiva attending Matthew's parent's party in their mansion. Their relationship was complicated at best. Yet when her close companion had accused her unwillingness to assimilate her wardrobe to the cultural norms around her as cowardice, what else could she have done but don the stupid red dress and impractical heels? The Winter Blaze was different. It did not call for the simplicity of the red dress and heels. Its grandeur had brought the Myrian to hunt for something that fit the theme of fire and ice. Eventually she had her fiery winner. The silk dress began tight like a corset to her chest, but at the waist flared out careful layers of orange and red. The shorter front and longer back splayed out when she moved, letting the fabric ripple behind her like spreading flames. Bringing it all together was the orange mask to hide her identity. It might not have been her first experience in the ridiculous outfit, but it was only the sharp food knife tied securely to the highest point of her right thigh that gave her any comfort.

"Hey, gorgeous, let me buy you a drink," a rather out of place looking human male dressed in a blue tuxedo purred beside her at the bar. Amber eyes framed by a vibrant mask eyed the man suspiciously at first before the corner of her lip twitched in a grin. "Last I heard, the booze was free," she responded just as the bartender swaggered down to their end. The woman leaned forward toward him. "A bottle of something really strong." He must've seen some kind of look in her eyes, or perhaps he was just as struck by her brutal Myrian accent as the blue tuxedo man beside her appeared to be, but he made haste to return with just her kind of poison. "Go easy on this stuff, alright?" Then the man was gone, hustling to the blue tuxedo beside her in an admirable effort to work away at the growing queue before him. Kaie eyed the bottle he left curiously. She turned it this way and then on the counter. She resigned with a shrug. Can't read whatever's written on it anyways. Alcohol is alcohol right?

A bronze hand swiped the container and explored through the crowd. It was no easy task. The party was quickly becoming all the rage and finding space between bodies was difficult indeed. Eventually she found just enough space among the endless piles of food. She claimed a spot between a bowl of popular punch and some strange rolls of what looked like sliced fish. Eyes searched the bottle one last time before she finally opened it up. There was no fizz and certainly no pop. The cap was merely removed and the contents remained just so. She gave it a sniff and quickly found herself backing away from it with a grin. Whatever it was, it was strong. A challenge, perhaps? In any case, the Myrian lifted the bottle to place it to her lips. That's when Lhex's cruelty played its brutal part. Just before she could get so much as a taste, a woman in a large, puffy dress was shoved into the jungle-born right at the most significant tick. With both Myrian and stranger reeling to recover their balance, the bottle was forced to dump its contents sideways into the innocent bowl of punch beside them. By the time Kaie managed to get her right hand to secure herself up right with the help of the sturdy table edge, the damage was done. Half the bottle was mixed with the delicious beverage...and already was a throng of parched dancers starting to delightedly go to filling their cups with it.

The puffy dressed woman rushed out repeated apologies while the Myrian stared with wide eyes at the true blunder. Kaie managed to mumble out some sort of acceptance to her relentless stream of "I'm so sorry!" assurances before she removed herself from the scene. It was the best she could do to wander through the bodies to a new spot...a spot where hopefully she'd be liberated from any more unintentional fits of mischief.


OOC:Word Count: 44,254/50,000

[Vypec]

The Akalak was impressed by the utter magnitude of this eccentric's event. The Winter Blaze would, it seemed, be the event of the season, if not the year! Vypec begrudgingly thought that he might, possibly, enjoy himself a bit here. He clutched the twin loaves of sweet bread in his hands, careful not to get any honey on his new tunic. The black leather shone in the light from the various torches and candelabras. Vypec felt a little ridiculous wearing the crow mask, but everyone seemed to be embracing it as part of the ritual of the event, so he kept it on. Better to blend in until this thing was over than the stand out and incur attention about it. When he reached the impressive main entrance Vypec took the stairs two at a time. Upon entering the high, ornately carved stone doorway to the main hall he found a servant standing sentinel next to him. Vypec grinned and greeted the man. "Hello, good evening. Are you here to take the food?" He asked eagerly. "Oh no sir. You can just put it over-" The servant began. "Excellent!" Vypec said, shoving the two loaves of honey and Rosemary covered bread into his hands. "They're bread." He said as he left. He declined to tell the man that he ha baked them himself. After all, his goal here tonight was not to embarrass the family. Vypec readjusted the Lakan hanging on his hip. He had decided not to wear the gladius, as bringing such weapons to a party was in bad taste. But he wouldn't have felt right leaving the Lakan in his house. The Akalak moved through the crowd, sidestepping a few ladies who were already deep in the booze. He rolled his eyes and looked back at them while the giggled and fell over each other. The Akalak had never much concerned himself with the pursuits of alcohol, preferring to keep his mind about him in social situations. He opted instead for the large bowl of punch. Vypec waited patiently behind the small queue, content that none of the party goers were trying to ask him to dance. The Akalak wasn't sure how he'd fair in that regard, having absolutely zero experience in it unless you counted his training at the Sasaran. He lifted the ladle of the punch and poured our three health servings of the stuff into a large glass that had been laid out in a neat pyramid next to the stuff. Vypec eyed the queue behind him. He didn't want to have to come back. He gulped down about half the glass and then topped himself off again. Smiling at the two men behind him, who were now whispering about people not waiting their turn, he moved on eagerly. He was about to stop at the dessert table when he found a small group of ladies having a heated discussion about one of the platters there. "This honeyed bread is the worst thing I've tasted in my life! What kind of idiot can't even bake a loaf of bread correctly?!" One of them was saying. Vypec coughed and passed them up without stopping. The party seemed well underway at this point, and Vypec was searching for the host. Despite being adamantly against coming to the party he could not help but be curious as to what the man looked like. Vypec was staring out over the masses, trying to see if he could spot some center of attention, when he felt an impact against his thigh and he stumbled into a table full of food. Pain shot through his leg and he braced himself by flinging his free hand out and maintaining his punch with the other. His hand landed in a bowl of dark pudding. The impact sent two fancy platters of meats flying off the other end of the table and against the wall behind it. Vypec cursed himself profusely as he righted himself. He felt his face shoulder under the mask as he cleaned his hands off on someone's scarf they had apparently forgotten at the table. Feeling guilty and wondering what had gotten into him to make him so clumsy, Vypec sidestepped his way around the table. He bent and blinked away a faint bout of dizziness as he crouched down. The Akalak hurriedly fetched the meats from the floor, piling them up on the tablecloth next to the pudding. He rubbed his hand across his shaven scalp, grateful for the mask now that he had completely made a fool of himself. Eager to get away from the scene of his idiocy he gulped down some more punch and moved on. Eventually he found a relatively sparse section of the hall. He sipped his punch and glanced around. A few older, fatter men stood by talking animatedly about the pros and cons of trade routes across the Suvan, and a woman in orange clutched a bottle standing a bit away from them. She was tall for a human woman and she wore a mask of ornate, tiny feathers. Vypec glanced around at the fat merchants. Nope. He stepped up beside the woman and nodded. "Hello, nice mask." He sipped his punch again. "What you think of this...party" He asked her, not wanting to seem awkward. His common was lacking, but he thought he might have gotten the message across. He made a show of adjusting his mask with he free hand, surreptitiously trying to see if his hand smelled like pudding. 921 words

[Kaie]

Like any good criminal smart enough to flee the scene of their involvement, Kaie found solace and a relief from some of her guilt away from the main area of congregation. She exited the large open room that housed the dance floor, the buffet, and the plethora of entertainers enthralling the guests in attendance; and instead found a less crowded section of the great hall to post up. The Myrian turned to lean her back against the nearest wall of the corner. Her eyes carefully explored the scene with the curious diligence of a bouncer at the city's hottest club. Had she really become so accustomed to debauchery and misfortune that she couldn't put her faith in the possibility of a harmless, fun social event? Close by she glanced over a collection of hefty men dressed sharply from head to toe. Their inflated stomachs puffed their dress shirts outward and their arms were squeezed in the sleeves of their fine dress jackets. Now and then one would procure a handkerchief from their breast pocket and dab at their forehead. The Myrian could only imagine how much they were sweating beneath their layers of cloths while insulated by so many bodies nearby.

"No, no. That's a stupid idea!" one man clad in a ridiculous light blue ensemble exclaimed to the men in his midst. "It's an entire economy no one has exploited yet! It would be genius!" one of the other large man retorted with a huff, righting the obnoxiously bright red top head on his head. The one between them nodded dumbly and pressed his lips together as if he were deeply thinking about the subject. "It's not exploited for a good reason! Have you gone mad? Or perhaps a death wish?" The first man crossed his fat arms over his bulging torso. The downward cast of his gaze was much like a disappointed parent trying to comprehend the idiocy of their own offspring. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you've let your nanny's old tales turn you craven! I know you've heard the other tales, too. Falyndar is rich in resources. It's a whole new frontier, my friend. I say you quit your northern trips to Alvadas and turn your bow west! A good, strong force of men would put down any barbarians who might oppose intervention by a new market. Besides, I hear there's a little fishing village somewhere along the coast that welcomes outsiders. It would be the perfect place to start." Kaie was mid-drink during the idealistic rambling, and at one point, her guffaw threatened to spit liquor all over the place. Instead she maintained control of the outburst that threatened to expose her, settling for a bit of choking laughter once she managed to swallow the burning substance.

While the Myrian took a few long chimes to both gather herself and keep from brashly storming over to set the fool right, an Akalak dressed in a black leather tunic and topped off with a crows mask meandered beside her. Amber eyes glanced about his figure while he tried to make conversation. The corners of her lips twitched at the sight of the doomed punch held in his hand. She cleared her throat. "What do I think of this party?" she parroted in Common, the words sounding more brutal by the natural accent that came with her Myrian mother tongue. She gazed for but a tick out at the twirling dresses of dancing women and the boisterous laughter of the reunion of old friends. She shrugged. "A little too tame for my taste...but I can't hate on any host who supplies his honored guests with an open bar." She waggled the battle in her hand with a mischievous grin. The clear liquid within sloshed about its glass confines. The savage took another sip, expression turning bitter for a tick at the rediscovery of the taste and the burn that came with swallowing. Then she offered the bottle in the Akalak's direction. A common courtesy.

"I see someone didn't get the memo." Kaie gestured toward the man's get-up that was clearly out of place among the crowd decked in warm and cool colors. "You're not fire or ice tonight." She'd never been one to understand the point of a themed party. From what she could see, it was more work for the host and guests. The barbarian world would never cease to perplex the foreigner. At least she hadn't fallen over the hem of her dress or snapped one of her heels. Then again, the night was certainly young indeed.

OOC:Word Count: 46,181/50,000

[Wikus]

Every man in this world had a vice that would become apparent once they were immersed in this carnival of decadence. Some would immediately go and dance until their feet shattered while others would go and try to find friends. Some would try to find a woman for the night and others would try to find one for the rest of their lives. Those types of men were the foolish ones. Wikus, however, was one of the very few enlightened of the truth: the rest meant nothing but distractions. While initially his heart spun around as he believed he’d find a friend at this party, he quickly realized that those kinds of relationships were not meant for men like him. Instead, he had found something nobler to pursue by attending this event. That noble objective was, of course, to stuff his mouth with food. Just as he was to pass the door, one of the servants came forth with a confused smile to retrieve the wooden bowl Wikus brought with him. Not quite sure of what the intention of Wikus’ costume was, nonetheless he greeted him with politeness despite Wikus’ displeasure. Shoving the bowl of boiled seagulls in the servant’s hands, Wikus didn’t even wait for a reaction before making his way past the gatekeeper and incorporating himself to the party. Days ago he had scored a big number of seagulls for him to feast on, yet they had quickly began turning problematic as his whimsical tastes demanded something new – reason why tonight was such a special occasion.

Surely, most people would’ve halted to look at the immense mansion in which they stepped, to listen to the fine music or at least scan the horizon for the nearest landmarks that would allow them to move around with more freedom. Not for him. The presence of all these people packed between the four walls like cockroaches gathering behind furniture made him nervous, and the haste sent him forward by basically shoving his way forward. The mask he wore didn’t quite allow him to see much, only the masks of the rest trying to hide their confusion, disgust or anger towards him. His teeth, broken beyond repair after many unfriendly encounters with the harsh world, were currently aching with an intensity that almost made him believe his whole head would explode in consequence. Besides that ache, his skin which the body paint covered completely was causing an itch that begged to be scratched. Doing so would ruin the fiery story his skin wore, not quite matching the ‘fire and ice’ theme of the party but instead going completely for the fire. A noose closed his mask and dangled behind him, wishing to represent the savage ritual he had once witnessed and hoping somebody would get the hint. Hang a man and then burn them, their faces covered with a sack so that the killer couldn’t feel any kind of pity. The cold heart that could witness such atrocity was the ice part of his disguise.

Regardless of it, eventually he saw the big tables and the stacks of food that laid on top, which immediately made him head towards them with the same rude haste as before. Quickly he arrived, and so he was about to achieve what he came for. Both hands coming forth to grab different items from the table, like an infant he’d directly begin shoving them in his mouth even if most of the food was smeared on the simplistic mask he wore. It was like a robbery – he only had a limited amount of time he’d endure the presence of all these people, and in that time he had to satiate his hunger enough to satisfy him for the whole evening. Sweet desserts mixed with some kind of peas, rice coming afterwards with some fish… His gluttony knew no limit, and his lack of any kind of manners only formed a circle around him as those refined individuals that surrounded him backed away from the apparent rabid animal. Wikus’ height served as a guarantee that nobody would try to disrupt him salve an Akalak that would match him, as these simpletons wrapped in their fancy clothing wouldn’t even dare to lay a hand on him.

The table was turning into a mess the more Wikus’ hands entered each plate and retrieved a handful of the contents, and his actions were not unnoticed by the hired muscle responsible of taking care of the security and peace of the event. Mostly formed by Akalaks whose tuxedos were to explode due to the hidden mass trapped within the fabrics, they quickly began making their way from their positions towards the source of the disturbance. Wikus was already unable to chew on it all due to the strange mixture of foods, and thus he proceeded with the second part of his plan. Removing his mask, it was quickly revealed that his vision wasn’t only hindered by the hem sack with holes, but also because of the bandages he had wrapped around his entire head salve for the eyes and mouth, now using the sack to slide everything he could into the sack for storage. Looking back to confirm his suspiciousness, he quickly began strolling away from the incoming company of men yet still within the limits of the buffet, adding more variety within the sack which he then packed by pressing it all with an open palm. The conglomerate of foods began leaking through the three holes of the sack, dripping through the fabric as it had all turned into some strange kind of thick soup. No matter how disgusting and unpleasant it looked, Wikus knew it could still be eaten. Salt and sugar mixed together inside the sack, and at last the group of Akalaks took a hold of the man.

They didn’t need to explain the situation to Wikus, whom was no being dragged out even if he desperately attempted to free himself from the hold of the Akalak. Nonetheless, he firmly held his sack, the contents inside surely enough to feed him for a day or two. Clearly, the ousted Drykas had a much more extreme meaning to the word ‘buffet’.

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[Vypec]

"What do I think of it? I think it's a stranger trying to grab at status here in Riverfall." Vypec answered, the grudging words coming unchecked. What the hai was that about? He never spoke I'll of a host, even if that was his true feeling. Vypec could hear her accent as she repeated his question. He could not place it though. With the mask she wore he could not tell her origin from her features either. The mystery was eating at him, as all such unanswered curiosities did. As the party raged around them, old and odd in equal measure flaunting wealth and appeal to their fellow patrons, Vypec thought on the woman next to him. When she mentioned his lack of Fire and Ice theme, Vypec had to force himself to keep his face from dropping into a grimace. He wanted to tell her he did not bend his action to the will of strangers, or any manner of other haughty retorts, but he didn't. "I must have missed that part." He shrugged and took another swig of the punch. Vypec grimaced a bit and rubbed his lips with two large purple fingers. Odd, he felt a slight numbness there. Vypec shook his head slightly and blinked at the slowness of his mind. What was going on? "Some little Jakri spiked the rum!" Vypec spat as he realized it was his drink that was robbing from him his senses. The nerve of some people. Vypec half reached for a gladius that was not there, glaring around the party. But his wrath was diverted to curiosity in that moment as a commotion erupted across the room. At the food tables there was a tussle disrupting the chaotic activity of party-goers with an equally chaotic combat. Someone was being restrained by a large Akalak. Vypec grimaced over at the pair struggling towards the door. "It was probably that shyke over there." He threw the contents of the punch upon the fine marble floor and set the glass down on the nearest table. He felt he should go figure out what was going on with the man being thrown out, but this was not his party. It was not his responsibility. It was neither a public place, nor was he on duty. Instead the Akalak returned to stand next to the woman, for a bit of peacefulness if nothing else. Vypec was fast regarding this party with contempt. Old bladders and mischief makers made for poor company in his opinion. Vypec let his eyes rest on the old blow-yards that were now talking about the pros and cons of inland trade with Kenash and Endrykas. The Spring would bring a healthier flow of goods and the economy in Riverfall might feel a rise. Vypec knew that, as anyone in the city would, but these old geezers seemed to be talking about it like it was the newest astrological sign. "This damn party seems to have brought out the worst in the best, and the worst out of hiding." Vypec said to the woman, letting his mood seep into his words. He gestured pointedly at the old men next to them. "Nothing says party like people reiterating what everyone already knows." He toyed with the idea of going to get some food, but if half of it was as bad as his breads, then it wasn't worth the risk. At that moment the band started to play a joyful, upbeat tune. Vypec thought it might have been to distract from the shock of watching one of the guests bodily removed from the room by an over-sized Akalak. Vypec glanced over at the woman again. He wanted to ask her if she was from Riverfall, where she had come from if not. He wanted to know things. Thus was his curse, curiosity insatiable. But he did not. He certainly didn't appreciate mosey strangers, and thought she wouldn't either. "You have an opinion on our esteemed host?" He opted for light conversation instead. "I have half a mind to think he's a just a madman who wants to watch us all jump for him.